A FEW NOTES OF GENERAL INTEREST. (continued 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The wounded from Chancellorsville were brought over and placed in tents not far away, conveniently near for visiting. John Pfleiger, wounded below the knee, suffered from a painful wound. Hank Whaling was grazed below the stomach with a piece of shell. He had but recently recovered from an attack of measles when he went into the fight, and his voice had left him, so that he spoke in whispers. When he was struck, the shock restored his voice, and he yelled, "Hub, —— —— I'm hit!" He finally recovered from the effects of the bruise, and saw more of the war.

When money is plenty among soldiers in camp there are always traders of various kinds on hand. A maker of tin-types set up his shop nearby and drew quite a trade. Some of those old pictures are still in existence and they are fondly treasured. Occasionally a proud son of Lenox borrowed the coat of an officer to appear smart in the picture he was to send to his deary. By far the greater number appeared before the camera rough and unpolished; sometimes in blouses, with pipes in their mouths, and caps tilted on their heads. Not at all like the frozen figures of Hamilton days.

One result of the recent battle was the depletion of the color-guard. While at dress-parade one evening Col. Brown delivered one of his measured speeches.

"Men are needed to fill out the color-guard," he said. "Candidates for vacancies can send in their names to the adjutant. I want none but brave men. The post is one of great danger. The appointment means promotion."

A subdued growl went down the line, for the speech was a commentary. Brave men! Just one man in Co. G sent in his name, and he did it to avoid guard duty. A few weeks later and a private soldier of Co. G carries the flag off a bloody battlefield. Where were those brave corporals? The sergeant was down, several of the corporals were wounded. The brave color corporal from Co. G was scratched and left the field with all its glory behind him and he never returned to the company.

One beautiful day the battalion was taken out for a drill in charging. Col. Arrowsmith commanded half the men and Major Carmichael the others. The boys were moved about, here and there, until at last they started over a sharp knoll and the divisions met, with bayonets fixed at a charge and the officers and men cheering. Company A's captain and the lieutenant commanding B, crossed swords and the fire flew for a few moments. Both were quite warm over the matter. The voice of Col. Arrowsmith stopped the threatening storm. It is safe to say, neither of those swords ever again came so near drawing blood. For the officers' swords in the infantry, usually, were applied to switching off the tops of grass and daisies, or killing snakes; few of them ever tasted gore.

Dress swords were issued to the orderly sergeants and to duty sergeants also. They were carried only for a short time. One or two campaigns and superfluous equipments disappear. Usually, their rifles were sufficient for the boys of Co. G. Those nice little swords would have answered for toasters when sharpened sticks were scarce.

In the first weeks of June orders came for the men to be supplied with extra rations and eighty rounds of cartridges. Gen. Hooker intended the men should carry plenty of powder and ball.

Sick and wounded were sent away, and with the sick went Lieut. Hemstreet, who had resigned. The sutler also struck his tent and followed after the man of the picture gallery, seeking a quiet, out of the way place.

Even the men who peddled the Washington newspapers (for ten cents, which cost them but two and a half cents) they, too, flitted.

The ins and outs and the ifs and wherefores of those days are mystifying literature. In the North the so-called Peace Party were seeking by every means in their power to bring the war to a close. That party had but recently in a convention held in New York, declared "That under the Constitution there is no power in the Federal Government to coerce the states, or any number of them by military force."

Horace Greeley compared those resolutions to the fourteen reasons offered by an Irishman in court, as to why his father was not present. The judge decided on hearing the first one—that the father was dead and couldn't come—was conclusive, and waived the remaining thirteen.

So amid the jangle of peace in the presence of war, on June 12th, the 157th moved out and marched to Hartwood church. A short rest at Potomac Creek was made memorable by a generous donation of cigars by Col. Arrowsmith, who was temporarily in command. Col. Brown was detached for a day or two and led a brigade of the first division.

The march, June 13th, was nineteen miles in a hot sun, over dusty roads. The men suffered greatly that day and were glad when Catlett Station was reached.

Co. G pitched their shelters, dug small trenches under the drip of the tents and prepared for a wet night, for the sky looked very black, the air was hot and lightning was playing in the distance. Camp was made in a heavy growth of young timber where plenty of fuel was found, coffee was made and the weary sons of Lenox turned in, tired, tired.

When the storm broke the much quoted and yet ever fearful Virginia lightning flashed out spitefully, thunder boomed and the rain came down very heavily. Amidst the racket an occasional shout was heard from some person who had failed to provide for bad weather—"My roof leaks!" or "the cellar of my house is afloat!"—ordinary occurrences.

The march on the 14th was eighteen miles, across the Manassas Plains to Centerville and camp was made near the old camp ground of the preceding winter.

The corps rested at Centerville two days, lying in readiness for a battle. And a rest was needed. Such extreme hot weather began to tell upon the men. Many of them were suffering from blistered feet; and a few men had been overcome by the heat.

On the 17th of June Co. G were again on the road, at night stopping in a sheltered hollow by the waters of Goose Creek.

This day's march of but seventeen miles, was exceedingly severe. Dust rolled up, filling the eyes, penetrating nostrils, and even the mouths of the men. They were thirsty, but the steady, close-file marching made it lively work for the boy who fell-out for water. The guns were loaded and flankers thrown out and uncertainty and discomfort appeared on every hand. Toward noon, a bend in the road led down between two thick fields of timber. The dust seemed finer and lighter than ever, and the rays of the sun darted down into that oven of a place, most viciously. Suddenly the regiment opened right and left, other regiments did the same, the men staggering into the fence corners, everything looking blue and misty before them; while a thumping noise sounded in their ears.

Directly the boys heard the voice of "Little Schimmel," who appeared to have been in the rear, as officers were marching left in front. Forward he came, shouting—

"Halt the column! Mein Gott, what for they kill all my men? Halt the column!"

Soon the general came back, cheering up the boys with a promise of coffee in the shade. Co. G rallied and found, just ahead, the shady grove. An hour's rest, and they were again ready for the road.

As they filed down into a cosy camping place by the creek that night, the men resembled the gray-back johnny rebs, more than they did boys-in-blue. They resembled men who had been rolling in the dust. However, it was not long before Goose Creek was thoroughly appropriated for bathing purposes.

While the gallant G are resting at Goose Creek, in a camp located on elevated ground, the good people at home are worrying about them. Lee's advance-guard has been seen in various places across the Potomac. A force of rebels have pressed into Pennsylvania and the whole north is excited. One hundred thousand militia from Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia and Ohio, and twenty thousand from New York have been ordered to Harrisburg. All the troops about Washington have been placed under orders. The greatest anxiety exists as to Lee's point of attack.

Vallandigham has been tried for seditious utterances and is to be sent over the lines to his Confederate friends. The party clamoring for peace is unceasing in their efforts. But the great heart of the loyal North is true.

Lee, it came about, had great hopes that this effort would be of practical worth to the cause of secession. The Confederate government hoped his success would benefit their cause abroad. And with a united South and a divided North, the rebels were to come out, ultimately, with honor. Such was the hour of preparation, of anxiety and of hope.

On June 21st heavy cannonading was heard in the direction of Aldie, and Howard's corps were placed under waiting orders, but they did not move.

Co. G were taking the world very comfortably, eating dew berries and milk and saving up strength for the next grand movement in the programme.

June 25th quite a number of convalescent men returned to the regiment from the hospitals at Washington. Among them was Durell Moore, a boy of Co. G. All of those boys looked rather pale for vigorous campaigning.

"Jerome," said Durell, as the orderly handed him a gun and accoutrements, "these things will be the death of me." It was a thoughtless remark lightly spoken but one that was noted. He was the first man (so said) in the company, killed at Gettysburg.

The afternoon of the 25th camp was broken and the corps moved down to Edwards Ferry, on the Potomac, and bivouaced in a fine field of clover. Engineers were out on the river laying a bridge and the noise of moving teams and falling planks lasted long into the night. Co. G had now become convinced that the whole weight of the contract did not rest upon them, and content and sleepy, too, they lay among the clover blossoms on the hillside, their feet to the river and their faces turned toward "God's country." They gazed at the North star and talked of home. Then sweet sleep came.

Early on the 26th the corps began crossing over the bridge of boats. A bridge laid under the supervision of Capt. C. B. Reese of the Engineers, a Canastota boy.

As the head of the regiment struck Maryland soil the boys cheered. They sang "John Brown's Body," until the chorus rolled from the end of the line. Then was heard the old hymn, "We're Going Home to Die no More." Alas, yes—nearly one out of six of them was to be left dead at Gettysburg, and scores of them writhing in pain.

They were in a new country. Virginia's neglected acres gave way to fields of corn and waving wheat yellow and nearly ready for harvest.

Monocacy was passed and the column filed through a narrow gorge and took the road to Jeffersonville. The boys of G felt well and indulged in much nonsense, similar to this—

"When are you going to cut your wheat, Steve?" inquires Doc White.

"I expect to begin the first of the week," replies Harrington.

"Orderly," says Zerne to Jim Johnson, "I think I see a rebel at that house over yonder. You will take Loucks and Wise and surround them."

"—— —— —— ——!" from Jim.

And so they moved along. Think kindly of them, reader; they are rough, but their hearts are right. They have followed a tedious road for many miles to fight for Lenox, for humanity—South and North—to save the Union and free the Negroes. The little part they have in the great drama entitles them to recognition, and to a mite of sympathy.

Rain set in toward night making the roads slippery. Plenty of new-mown hay was at hand, also good, seasoned rails in abundance. Maryland farmers grumbled some at such wanton destruction. It was a Union officer who pointed to his empty sleeve and said to the complaining farmer—

"Your crops will grow again, your woods will supply you with rails. This sleeve will always remain empty."

Starting out on a cloudy morning, the 27th, the column passed through Jeffersonville; the brigade band stationed by the roadside treated the boys to a little cheering music.

Reaching the streets of the small town Co. G were excited to see here and there a handkerchief waved to them. Out of the ranks sprang one of the boys.

"Come back here, what are you doing?" called out several.

"Nothing great—only wondering how it seems to walk on a sidewalk."

Near night they reached Middletown. The band unlimbered and went into action, the boys straightened up and kept step. Ladies waved flags and little boys shouted. Quite a number of houses kept closed blinds, which very likely opened when the boys-in-gray marched past and then other blinds were closed.

Beyond the town camp was made in a region ripe with dry rails and fresh hay. It was at this bivouac where Col. Arrowsmith interposed for his men as already stated.

Next day, June 28th, was Sunday and the church bells rang. Co. G were called up and formally notified that Gen. Hooker was satisfied Gen. Lee and his army had crossed into Maryland.

"You will reduce yourselves to light-marching order. Those who have blankets will tear them in two," said the captain.

Light marching order! Indeed, very little remained to be sacrificed. Many of the boys were reduced to the last shirt. To lighten up a few ounces, nearly every man went to a convenient brook and a crowd of them were soon busy, bathing and washing that last shirt. Long before those garments were dry, a headquarters bugler sounded the "Assembly." Clutching their washing from the bushes, the boys hastened to camp and were soon on the road again; some of them vainly trying to dry their shirts by throwing them over their knapsacks and tying the sleeves under their chins, thus gathering more dust than before washing. And the shirts went into the ditch.

It was a short march to Frederick, which was reached early. A delegation of small boys were out to meet Co. G, and as they marched around the outskirts of the town the rail fence was lined with little boys and girls, the boys on the top rail gazing at the free show. At one point where the children were collected, a tempting rail-full of all colors came in view.

"See the little—here—here—r—rebs! Doc," exclaimed one to his neighbor.

"Get back into the ranks, Loucks!" called out a half dozen. "You wouldn't hurt a child, would you?"

"I believe in taking them when they are young," growled Lute Loucks, one of the kindest-hearted of boys.

He had jumped toward the children with his rifle clubbed. Of course the ridiculous caper raised a laugh, in which the children joined merrily. Those jolly fellows were the life of the march.

There was Al Bridge, his face always prepared for a smile, his ways were pleasant and his heart was light. Jim Travis and Dan Grovestein skylarking all day on the road and going into camp at night kicking up their heels. Charley Ricker, another young boy who appeared too frail for the road, yet tough as whit-leather; Hugh O'Brien, with his stories of the fairy order, or of his experiences along the Erie Canal; Nick Ecker, not much of a talker, but a loud laugher, and others who trudged along enjoying the fun. They were a good crowd to be with, kind to each other. Rarely were angry words heard among them.

In fact, the entire regiment enjoyed an excellent record for good order. At times the camps of some of their neighbors were very noisy, especially when they were having a high old time; but that sort of thing was not permitted in the 157th and if ever it did occur, it was conducted in a manner worthy of the occasion.

Gen. Hooker had asked to be relieved and Gen. Meade took command of the Army on June 28th, 1863, at Frederick, Maryland.

When the 11th Corps filed out into the road on the morning of June 29th, they opened ranks to let Gen. Meade and staff pass; the boys were braced up for loud cheering and waving of caps, but the general took a different route and Co. G moved along on the Taneytown road, just enough rain falling to keep the road "greasy," as the men said. But a good long march was made and Emmettsburg was reached before night, the troops camping near the town.

The morning of the 30th, Schurz's division were moved near the town. The quarters of the 157th were on grounds adjacent to the Convent of St. Mary's. It was an unpleasant day. There were many changes being made by the new general.

The 11th Corps was passed by the 1st Corps at Emmettsburg and went into camp a half mile distant. Gen. Reynolds of the 1st Corps ranked Gen. Howard. Had the 11th Corps been thrown forward, instead of the 1st Corps, perhaps they would have made as fair a showing as the 1st Corps on the pages of history. They certainly were as good men as there were in the army.

Pickets were detailed from the company while lying at Emmettsburg. When the boys returned to camp, they were well supplied with home-made bread and other good things.

Wednesday, July 1st, the 11th Corps resumed the route to Gettysburg. Before the column is ordered to move, a glance along the lines of the 157th will be interesting.

The regiment left Hamilton something like nine months before, with over eight hundred men. Now they are drawn up in line and number three hundred and eighty-six muskets. Reports have been given of their sufferings from sickness and in the Chancellorsville fight, and desertions, which have combined to reduce the regiment to the present figures.

They have been pictured as cleanly, well-dressed men. Now they appear neglected. Their clothes show hard service, the shoes, especially important, are getting hard wear. Rapid marching and lightening of knapsacks has reduced the boys' underwear; few of them have but the one shirt, which is in use. That big chap in Co. C is unable to hide, with his blouse, the fact that he has sacrificed his last shirt for the cause. But they are the boys of Cortland and Madison and even though they are out in the rain and the mud, their pulses are regular, and their powder is dry.

The corps moved leisurely along the Taneytown road until near noon. At Marsh Creek, Battery I passed the regiment, its support. Soon after, heavy cannonading was heard and orders came to double-quick the men.

For two miles or more the fast walking and trotting was kept up until the boys drew near Gettysburg. They had come about twelve miles, and were approaching the town from the southwest.

On the hills beyond and west of the village, the 1st Corps were hotly engaged. Citizens were met coming from their homes in the town, in some instances laden with light articles. They were frightened. No wonder.

As the boys went through the streets men and women were gathered in little groups here and there, with pails of water, which the boys gratefully swallowed and hastened along.

Outside the town and north and east of the Pennsylvania College, between the Carlisle and Mummasburgh roads, Battery I was already in position and ready for work. The 157th was stationed in rear and to the right of the battery, near the Carlisle road, in a small field of growing corn.

A rebel battery took position a half mile distant and opened on Battery I. Shells came rapidly, pieces struck among the 157th quite freely. The faster came the shells the more Co. G hugged the soft earth. That sort of thing continued for a time, until Capt. Dilger had dismounted several of the rebel guns, when the others were limbered up and driven to a new position. In the meantime one of the corporals of the color-guard was killed and a lieutenant was wounded in the hand.

An order came to Col. Brown to advance his men. They started forward in double-column on the center and—to use the colonel's expression—with "alacrity."

"Battalion, halt!" somebody yelled.

The batterymen were shouting and Co. G were wondering why they were being taken through a battery while it was firing.

"About, face!"

And they returned and moved to the left of the battery and then forward down the slope, the boys of Battery I firing over their heads.

Proceeding forward two hundred yards, the regiment deployed in line of battle. A line of rebel skirmishers were coming over the rise in their front. The rebs to the number of fifty or so, threw down their guns and came forward and surrendered. Several men were detailed to take the prisoners to the rear.

Off on the right, skirmishers were very busy. Shells were flying toward them from two rebel batteries.

"Battalion, double-column on the center—March! Right wheel!"

Then it was, under lively shelling, those much-abused fellows quarter-wheeled to the right, as steadily as if on their quiet parade ground.

Again they went forward and over a rail fence, into a field of wheat standing ready for the reaper. Then came the order to deploy column.

"Co. G, not a man of you fire until you reach the line, and then give them a volley!" shouted Capt. Frank.

The boys had met the enemy again and some of them were falling. Peter Agan, the first man hit in the company, fell with a ball through his thigh. Another man fell forward and bellowed like a calf and as the company went forward he crawled to the rear and deserted—unhurt.

Into line went Co. G. They formed on the colors, steadily and ready.

"Co. G, give it to 'em!" called out the captain and a grand volley was sent toward the line of rebel heads which were bobbing up and down over the wheat, twenty rods distant. Then the fighting began. It was murderous while it lasted—only about twenty minutes.

At one time Col. Brown ordered a charge and the line surged forward for a few rods. Again they halted and stood up for a time and took their medicine like men, giving back their best. Along that line the boys were falling in all shapes. Then some one shouted "get down into the wheat!" And thus was the fighting continued in Indian fashion. Zip! zip! came the bullets, scattering about the ripe wheat wastefully.

"What did you-uns stand up like that for, and be shot down?" asked a reb of one of Co. G's boys, a prisoner.

Capt. Frank, Capt. Backus, Capt. Adams and Capt. Briggs were down—the two former, killed. Other line officers were killed or wounded. The gallant Lieut.-Col. Arrowsmith was dead. It was a question of but a few moments when his entire regiment would be disposed of, and the colonel looked about wistfully for an approaching aide.

A staff officer finally came riding rapidly toward the field. He reached the line of fire and his horse fell. It was Capt. Klincker of "Schimmel's" staff. Klincker dismounted, waved his hand to Col. Brown, then unfastened his saddle and with it started for the rear.

Col. Brown ordered a retreat. The scattered remnant of his regiment, their organization broken, a sorry sight, left the field.

Joe Hart, of Co. G, as the order came for retreat, arose from the wheat. Near him lay the colors. He picked them up and started for the rear. He succeeded in reaching the fence, when he was shot through the leg. Joe tossed the flag over the fence to Ir Sayles of G, who carried it from the field.

Col. Brown rallied his men near the town, and a few shots were fired, and then continued their retreat.

Capt. Frank was killed, Lieut. Gates badly wounded, Co. G had lost nearly one-half its numbers and the few still on an army footing were exceedingly lonesome.

The streets of the town were soon blocked with ambulances, horsemen and men afoot. The exulting rebs were pouring into town in steady pursuit. Batteries from a distance were sending shells after the retreating Yankees. It was no time to stop and visit.

"Little Schimmel" remained too long to look after his men and nearly was captured. As he spurred away his horse was shot. The general sprang into a side street, which proved to be a cul de sac. He climbed a fence and found himself in the garden of Henry Garlach. The rebels were rapidly spreading over the town, and escape by the street was impossible. He espied the Garlach woodshed. Near the outer door stood a swill-barrel, and back of that was wood, cut for the stove. "Schimmel" was a small man. He cleared a space behind the barrel, where he secreted himself by piling wood about him. There was a small peep-hole through the wood and when Mrs. Garlach came into the shed, the general whispered to her, told her he was a Union officer and begged her not to betray him. Rebels were going through the houses searching for Union soldiers. They entered the wood-shed even. Although she was terribly anxious lest the rebs should find a soldier secreted on the premises, Mrs. Garlach did not forget that the general might be hungry. Her son was a lad of ten or twelve years, and she whispered to him aside, then handing him a large pail in the bottom of which rested a cup of water and some bread, she said aloud for the benefit of some rebel soldiers in the house—

"James, take this pail to the shed and get some swill for the pigs."

The boy successfully passed the food to the general, which was all he had for sixty hours.

July 4th, when the Union troops reentered the town "Schimmel" came forth, mighty stiff, but otherwise in fair condition. And when his old regiment found him they wept; they hugged and kissed the little man; better pleased than if he had been killed and buried ten feet deep in honors. They believed he had been taken prisoner.

When Orderly Forbes gathered in all they could find of Co. G, he had about a dozen men. (The word "about" is used because there were a few detached men). The corps was once more in position on Cemetery Hill. The 157th remnant lay with the reserve on the site of the present National Cemetery. And lay they did, on July 2d, and very flat. The rebels had concentrated their artillery fire upon that part of the line.

Just at dusk this reserve was ordered out on the right. The men were ready. The 157th followed the 61st Ohio, a veteran regiment; together they numbered less than one hundred men. By some mistake the 157th party became divided, a portion following Col. Brown and the others, Capt. Place. It was a night without a moon, and in the shadowing woods, very dark. Just as the 61st and the detachment of the 157th under Capt. Place, "had reached the angle of our line," writes that gentleman, "a volley was fired from behind a stone wall in the edge of the wood … the woods beyond were all ablaze with musketry … several of the detachment were killed or wounded. The officer commanding the 61st ordered his men to file to the right and left as fast as they could. Our men were ordered to follow. When out of range the boys were halted and it was then discovered the colors were missing." The color-bearer, Geo. H. Davis, of Co. A, had been wounded.

Capt. Place felt, as soldiers should feel, at such a time. And the eyes of Cortland and Madison were upon them. Believing that they had been fired upon by Union troops, Captain Place, with privates Marcus Livingstone of Co. C, and Francis M. Gault of Co. G, went back to find the flag, but they found that the rebels had advanced their lines, and they were soon prisoners.

Once more did Co. G try to score a point for the old flag. One of their boys had brought it from the deadly wheatfield, and was wounded. Another had volunteered to accompany the gallant Place, and was captured. Gault had a taste of rebel prisons from Richmond to Andersonviile, returning to the company in April, 1865.

On July 3d the remnant of the 157th, then pretty well banged-up, were withdrawn from the front and placed on provost duty at the quarters occupied by Gen. Schurz.

The first roll-call after the battle occurred the evening following. Thirty-nine privates, eight corporals and four sergeants answered to their names. The entire regiment, July 2d, consisted of Col. Brown, Major Carmichael, Captain Place of Co. C, Lieuts. Jenkins of Co. B and Tallman of K, and fifty-six men. Other officers were present at the time of the fight, but were not acting with the regiment.

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

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

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

KILLED.

Capt. Harrison Frank.

Albert D. Bridge.

John A. Hart.

Luzerne E. Johnson.

Durell Moore.

WOUNDED.

Lieut. Frank E. Gates, groin.

Corporal Jas. B. Hooper, arm.

Corporal Nicholas Binges, side.

Private Amos Avery, shoulder.

Private Peter Agan, leg.

Private Robert Farrington, arm.

Private Joseph Hart, leg.

Private Wm. Miller, hand.

Private Wm. Pease, leg.

Private James L. Travis, arm and shoulder.

Private John H. Roe, face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As they approached Hagerstown they were deployed as skirmishers and advanced ahead of the cavalry. Two miles from Hagerstown the rebel rear-guard was encountered and a lively skirmish followed, but the 157th got the rebs started and kept them going until they were checked by a battery planted on the hights beyond the town.

As the battery opened the cavalry rushed forward and Co. G and their comrades came near losing their opportunities for distinction; soon however the cavalrymen came back in confusion.

Maj. Carmichael had screened his men from the hot, raking fire, by taking advantage of a broad ditch and as the cavalry returned, the boys started on a keen run for the town, which they reached successfully and under cover of the buildings were soon in possession of the city. With the enemy still in sight on the hights, their names were registered at the Washington Hotel, directly following those of the rebel officers who had stopped there the night before. Fifty prisoners were captured in different parts of the town and among them, two wounded officers, from the field of Gettysburg.

As a mark of distinction the 157th were distributed over the town on provost duty. Hagerstown had five or six thousand inhabitants. This duty continued for two days; meanwhile they can be credited to date.

The 157th had turned over to the provost marshal of the Army, one hundred prisoners. At Gettysburg they had lost but eighty-six of their men prisoners, besides seven officers. As one officer ought to count for two men, the regiment has vindicated itself, with a heavy credit balance in its favor of more than two hundred and sixty casualties. As to prisoners, they have seldom found glory in being captured. They attract much sympathy, but there is usually an ugly "if" lurking in the background. The dead are heroes. 'Tis well.

July 14th Col. Brown returned to his regiment and the major to duty as mustering officer on Schurz's staff.

On that afternoon Co. G were marched out to within two miles of Williamsport, in search of Gen. Lee. The regiment camped in a pine wood. Next day, the 15th, they were counter-marched twenty miles to Middletown over the road they had come. Lee's army had escaped, and Co. G, like the loyal people of the North, were hunting for some secluded place where they could quietly kick themselves, undisturbed, and get cool.

The 16th found them en route to Berlin, camping within two miles of that place, after a tramp of twelve miles. They lay there until the 19th and then marched to the Potomac and crossed on the pontoon bridge, camping three miles beyond Waterford. They took an early start on the 20th and marched to Groveton, Va. While there they were sent on a wild-goose chase after Moseby's cavalry, who were supposed to be in the vicinity of Mt. Pleasant. On the 23d of July they moved to Middleburg—a secesh town where all the ladies kept behind the blinds—camping at night at White Plains. On the 24th the boys reached New Baltimore. July 25th the regiment marched to Warrenton Junction having found at last, the close of the campaign.

The boys were not very attractive in appearance when they left Gettysburg and they had not improved greatly by an additional twenty days' march. They were short of soap and of underwear. In many cases where neglect seemed inviting him, a well-known pest appeared, and skirmishing, "with vigor and alacrity," was not considered unbecoming to many a dignified officer. Truth is stranger than fiction, and here effect follows cause in close pursuit. At last however time was allowed for cleaning up, and those boys were not slow to make the most of such glad hours. The subject is not pleasant.

As has been intimated, the troops around Warrenton were not entirely idle. Considerable picket-duty was required. On the 1st of August they moved to Greenwich, so named after one Green, who claimed British protection, and the flag of Britain waved above his spacious mansion.

On the 3d camp was moved to near Catlett Station. At midnight of the 6th orders came to be ready to take the cars on short notice. Next day, the 7th, the little squad of Co. G heard the order to go into camp. They had done so much tramping that a prospect of a free ride, for a time seemed dissipated. They grumbled not—the grumblers had been captured and were eating pie and pudding at Carlisle. At noon the skies brightened and the bold Co. G were to shake the soil of Virginia from their feet for all time.

Gordon's division, which included Ames' brigade, moved to Warrenton Junction and the same night took comfortable freight cars for Alexandria. On the car tops were the able-bodied men and on the first floor were the sick and the officers, with scarcely room to stretch themselves. The train reached Alexandria at 5 a.m. The men alighted and partook of a soldier's breakfast in a field near the depot. At noon they were taken to a steamer and next day were at Newport News.

Newport News had been a favored camping place, from the first of the war. When Co. G, with skin as tender as their hearts, stepped ashore, multitudes of hungry fleas, gnats and mosquitos attacked them and the poor boys were once more suffering for the cause of freedom.

Ten days' rations were issued before leaving Catlett. The officers now discovered that the men were in a way to hunger before the journey was ended. For it is true of men everywhere—some are prodigal by nature.

On the evening of the 9th of August Co. G found themselves aboard a steamship and bounding on the billows of the Atlantic. They sailed under sealed orders. In all games of chance strategy is recognized. Secretary Stanton was about to send a few thousands of troops to re-enforce Gen. Gilmore.

Co. G was not entirely happy. Besides a slight sympathy with the rolling ocean, they were wondering just how bad they would be missed by their critics in the 1st Army Corps. Alas, little did they know of the future—how high and in what black letters would the fame of the 11th Corps be written by jealous pens.

And thoughts, longing, sweet and bitter, burdened the hour. Finally they went into the scuppers, and as Cape Henry dropped into the deep, they washed from their noble forms the last accumulation of Virginia soil. The parting was not pathetic.

Rightly named and suitable for the operations before Charleston, was the new camping place of Gordon's division. There was as high standard of tom-foolery in that department as in any, during the war. And for some time Folly Island served as a base.

Stono Inlet was reached on the 12th of August. The trip was made without incident. Co. G had gathered along the rail of the John Rice and they bit huge chunks from the sea breeze; for it was "hotter than—here—Hamilton!" below decks, as John Miller would have said, had he been present.

In the evening of the 12th Co. G stepped to the floating wharf (an old hulk) at Pawnee Landing and for the first time pressed the sacred soil of South Carolina. They had tried hard to reach the seat of rebellion at Richmond and failed. They had now come to the original incubator for another attempt. Charleston was still defiant and Co. G were on Folly Island.

Oh, brave Co. G, you were born heroes. Why did Fate thus trifle with your yearnings for fame?

The day following the landing, the 157th moved two miles up the island, or half way between Stono and Light House Inlet.

On the 16th they were marched up the beach to the rope ferry and crossed to Morris Island, and proceeded to duty in the advance parallels of the approaches.

Gen. Gilmore was trying to reduce Fort Wagner. One month before, a desperate battle was fought, with great loss to the Union forces. Then Gilmore began his siege. The troops worked hard and were sure of unearthing the enemy if the sand of Morris Island held out.

Duty in the bomb-proofs was very trying. The heat was oppressive and fresh air very scarce. With other discomforts, sand fleas were very plentiful. Whenever the rebel fire slackened, the boys got out and exercised. Three days of such miserable experience were quite enough for them, but they were detailed again and again. Perhaps it was during that siege Co. G replenished their stock of sand, as the boys insisted they breathed it and ate sand with their food, and it blew into their mouths when they were talking, and into their eyes, and into their ears.

On the 21st of August Gen. Terry reviewed the troops in Gordon's division. Those men had not been supplied with new clothing since the Gettysburg campaign and Terry was disposed to censure their shabby appearance. For his brigade, Gen. Ames made a proper explanation and concluded with something after this style—

"But, General, if you have any fighting for us, you will see that we understand our duty and will obey orders."

August 27th the division returned to Folly Island and went into camp four miles from Light House Inlet.

Sept. 6th Ames' brigade, consisting of six regiments numbering less than five hundred men, were taken to the front on Morris Island as a portion of an assaulting column to advance next morning at 9 o'clock. During the night a deserter came into Gilmore's lines and reported the rebels evacuating the fort. Fort Wagner had at last come into Yankee hands, and was re-christened Fort Strong, in memory of Gen. Strong, who led the assault on the fort, July 11th. He was dangerously wounded, and died at New York, a few weeks later.

Up to this period the regiment was composed of two companies. Men were returning from hospitals and parole camp. The ranks of Co. G were steadily increasing in numbers as also were the other companies. Their duties were not severe, but the change of water affected some of the boys badly.

With the exception of a night alarm, when the long-roll was beaten, there was very little to vary the monotony of life among the sand hills. To be sure the regiment was camped in a grove of small live-oaks, but behind the camp was a sand ridge and sand, dry sand, was the prevailing soil.

Bathing was a necessity, and at a prescribed hour the beach for miles was patronized by the men.

Col. Brown had left the regiment at New Baltimore, Va., for recruiting service at Elmira, N.Y. Major Carmichael was now lieutenant colonel and commanded the 157th.

For some weeks Col. Carmichael was confined to his tent. Then the camp was a dull place. Eventually the days became brighter. New clothing was issued, the wormy hard-bread gave way to good soft loaves, and soldiering was soldiering once more.

Captain Lafayette McWilliams was not a "boy of Lenox." He enlisted in Co. F, at Peterboro and was made third sergeant of his company. At Chancellorsville he acted as adjutant of the regiment, was taken prisoner and was sent to Libby prison. Rejoined the regiment just before the Gettysburg fight and was assigned temporarily to the quartermaster's department. He was left in Virginia when the regiment went South, and returned to duty early in September, duly commissioned as captain of Co. G. His first essay at speech-making was in censure of the boys captured at Gettysburg. His remarks, for one who was not in the fight, were very extraordinary. Co. G, in that fight did well. One of the boys was captured supporting his dying captain. Two others assisted a badly wounded and fainting man (of another company) to the regimental hospital; and not knowing the proximity of the rebels, ran into their clutches, very much as did Adjutant McWilliams at Chancellorsville. Col. Brown went through the streets with one man of Co. G, who bore the colors. All organization was destroyed. Who was blamable? Was there anything praiseworthy in the acts of the men of Co. G on that dreadful day?

Long did some of the boys hold spite against their new captain for his unkind words, until they understood that he had been wrongly informed. And when they became better known to each other, unpleasant differences vanished.

Lafayette McWilliams was an excellent officer. He took pride in the good appearance of his men. Co. G, under their new captain, throve finely. The honor of old Lenox was again a light burden.

Carmichael's ideal soldier was a possibility. Brown's ideal was a mixture of puritanic devotion and Napoleonic dash.

"Keep the men clean; nourish manly pride; make them feel that they are men; treat them in a way to gain their confidence, and you will have soldiers you can depend upon. Drill him as you may, a man without pride is unreliable;" such was the doctrine of Col. Carmichael.

Camp was moved further up the river and A tents were issued. From a convenient pine grove the boys cut posts and sunk them into the sand. Then they raised the tents upon the posts and had roomy space, with plenty of standing room. The bunks were built well above ground and the lower part around the tents enclosed with the old shelter tents.

It was an attractive camp on the white sand, and the boys were in better health. An eating house was built of pine poles and roofed with palmetto leaves. Tables and seats were erected and the men were marched in regularly to their meals.

For spiritual food the chaplain served his preparations on Sundays, when Gen. Ames occasionally dropped over to attend.

There were regular duties on picket at the White House, with an occasional detail to Coles Island, or Kiawah. The details to Kiawah were for fatigue duty on fortifications and they were pleasant, owing to freedom from the strict discipline of camp. Mud clams were abundant in the creeks over there.

Picket duty at the White House on Folly River, was attractive as the cold weather approached, on account of the abundance of cluster oysters which lined the banks. Those oysters, when taken from the shells, were usually very small—from the size of one's finger nail, to an inch in length.

Dan Brockway saw his opportunity. It was a happy day for him when he was detailed for picket at the White House. When off post he was picking open the shells, and far into the night while others slept, Dan was still at work, until he had secured a good quart, which he sold to officers for about fifty cents; and well he earned his money. Often the orderly's voice was heard in the camp calling, "Brockway!" Brock was either out after oysters or with haversacks loaded with apples, was peddling in other camps.

That sort of thing must end. The captain declared it should end. One day Brock was arraigned in presence of Co. G, and the punishment he merited seemed imminent.

"Captain," says Brock, "I have only a half-barrel of apples left, and they will spoil if you don't let me sell them."

"Very well," replied the captain. "But you must promise, hereafter to attend to duty."

Brock promised and escaped punishment, but that half-barrel of apples lasted a long time. It appeared he had another supply by means of which he kept the first barrel from being exhausted.

At Folly Island, for the first time, men were detailed in each company to wash the clothing of the men and all were of a uniform cleanliness, and the wash-squad did their work well.

The regimental organization was again complete. In November a detachment of substitutes and drafted men reached the regiment; of those Co. G received five men.

And there came also from Elmira a new adjutant for the 157th. Chas. J. Baldwin was an inexperienced soldier. He had been acting as Col. Brown's adjutant at Elmira and was promoted on personal grounds. There was an unconfirmed report that he was a drafted man. Had he been so, or had Baldwin been a veteran of many battles, Col. Brown's thus slighting his regiment, would have been no less unfair. Baldwin was a good man, made a fine adjutant. Perhaps he was innocent of an intent to appropriate the position which was clearly due one of those men who had seen so much hard service.

Col. Brown detailed Joseph Heenye to be his personal waiter. Then he promoted him to sergeant-major of the regiment. While Joe Heenye was enjoying the comforts and privileges of exemption from drill, from camp duty and from picket, the other enlisted men were out in the sleet and the snow and the mud. While Joe slept in a warm bed every night, his comrades slept out in the dismal picket huts. No fault of Joe's. But when he was promoted adjutant over the heads of many worthy lieutenants, Col. Brown added greatly to the offense. Joe was a gentleman. He was killed at Gettysburg.

Col. Brown from a settled policy, promoted officers and assigned them to other companies than those in which they had enlisted. Such a scheme was an exhibition of his arbitrary power and in some instances the effect was demoralizing. When Lieut. Gates was transferred to Co. K, the boys of his own company wondered and Co. K were offended. By and by, Lieut. Pierce was assigned from Co. K to Co. G, and the scale was righted. And when Bob Grant was made first lieutenant of Co. G, his own company, Co. I, were inconsolable and the philosophical Co. G, were correspondingly pleased.

That system of crossing-the-breed was peculiar to Col. Brown. Had the good people of Madison discovered such propensity in time, undoubtedly they would have suggested that Prof. Brown seek a colonelcy in some other county. But the regiment is still on Folly Island.

Such a pity so good a regiment should have seen so much trifling. And even yet were they to steam up rivers, to march, to camp, to wade swamps, to fight and hang-on, for many months to come and after it all, not one enterprise in which they were engaged—barring the siege of Charleston—in that Department, has been deemed worthy of place in standard history. The stubs of Gen. Grant's cigars, the white vests of Gen. Sherman and the peculiar cast of Gen. Butler's eye, all are immortal. Poor Co. G, you are making history and your valiant deeds shall be chronicled. And your children may know, that while brave and true men were required to perform these deeds, even the weakest of men may record them. Such is fate.

In the latter part of December, Col. Carmichael was ordered North with a recruiting party; winter had reached South Carolina, and in the morning thin ice frequently was found upon the surface of bathing tubs. Not the pleasantest season to journey northward.

As the weather grew colder drinking water was more agreeable. All the water used on the island was obtained by digging below tide-mark and curbing with barrels. The finest and best protected well in camp was made by cutting into a sand dune and making a winding passage to the water, thus placing the water continually in the shade and protecting it from dust and dirt blowing around the camp.

The regiment remained on Folly Island until February 7th, 1864, when orders came to prepare for a march with three days' rations and forty rounds of ammunition. At dusk they were ferried over to Kiawah Island. Three brigades and two batteries formed the expedition. They marched up Kiawah, forded the narrow creek to Seabrook, and then over the bridge to John's Island, tramping until daybreak, when they found themselves near the center of the island. A line of skirmishers under Lieut. Gates was thrown forward to meet the advancing rebels, then a lively exchange of shots ensued, resulting in the enemy falling back. Next the brigade was advanced about a mile until they came up with the skirmishers. A large quantity of arms and accoutrements were found in some buildings near Edisto River and were destroyed. The rebels were found well posted behind a hedge. The first brigade fell back again and bivouaced. Next day the second brigade went to the front and stirred up the rebs a little. The third day the first brigade (in which was Co. G) again went to the front and supported a battery. At midnight the pickets were withdrawn and after setting fire to a mansion the expedition returned to Folly Island. The demonstration was to draw the enemy from the army opposing Gen. Seymour, who was then about to fight the disastrous battle of Olustee, Florida.

In that trip to John's Island one man was killed and one wounded, of the 157th regiment, both of Co. I.

On the 22nd of February Co. G, under Lieut. Grant, (Capt. McWilliams had gone north with Col. Carmichael) were ordered to pack up, for Gen. Seymour had been roughly handled and he wanted Co. G to come down to Jacksonville with the other boys. Gen. Seymour had exceeded his instructions. He deserved to have been cashiered, but Grant ordered him North, gave him another command, and the rebs soon after captured him.

The 157th landed in Jacksonville Feb. 25th, 1864, with two hundred and eighty-six muskets, or one hundred less than at Gettysburg. They were commanded by Col. Brown.

The trip down was very unpleasant for the men on the lower deck and a number of them were seasick. The comments of Nick Snyder and John Miller can be left to the imagination of readers. For they felt glad they were fighting for Yankee land, instead of beastly, blasted, blinkety-blank ships on a r-r-rolling ocean.

Feb. 25th the boys landed at Jacksonville, at the time only a good-sized village. Gen. Ames led his men to the outskirts. Rumors came of a threatened attack and preparations were made accordingly. It may be put down here at once, that no rebel ever attacked Jacksonville (except by rumor) during Co. G's stay at the place, and if any other of the companies had been attacked, Co. G would have heard of it, promptly.

In a day or two the regiment was busy with picks and shovels, throwing up breast-works and redoubts, nor did the work stop until a line was built nearly a mile in length. The redoubts were protected with chevre du frieze and trip-wires were stretched along the front of the works.

The regiment had been eating hard-tack for some time because facilities for supplying them with fresh loaves were not perfected. Capt. Gates obtained leave to draw flour from the commissary and arrange a bakery for his company. He took possession of a bakery in town, detailed men, with Ike Perry of Co. H at their head, and in a short time Co. K were eating fresh bread. The plan succeeded so well that the bakery was called upon to supply the regiment.

The bakery was a saving scheme, for the flour allowed by the government, was in excess of the amount required for an abundant supply of bread, and in a few weeks hundreds of dollars commutation for such excess was allowed the 157th.

At Folly Island Col. Carmichael had organized a brass band and armed those men with a varied assortment of instruments. The grand revelation at Jacksonville in the one item of bread, opened a way to purchasing a set of fine German silver instruments. Strange it was that Capt. Gates was soon after relieved from the bread management and from that time, the regimental fund ceased to be a matter of history. The query often passed around the camp—if two hundred men can save a thousand dollars in a few weeks by commutation of rations, how much should a regiment or an army save in one year? and from one item of bread. The good people at home, also were being bled by army sharks.

This little work is not designed for the purpose of paying-off old grudges. The above item is history. Col. Brown, let it be known, is believed to have been innocent of any meanness in providing for his men. They usually were well supplied with plenty of good food. He looked after their sanitary welfare, and in proof of this last assertion can be given the fact that during its entire service, no severe epidemic raged among the men. Credit is due also to the surgeons of the regiment, Drs. Hendrick, Crawe and Beebe, who were faithful in the performance of their duties.

During the battle of Gettysburg Dr. Crawe remained in the town; and while shells were flying over and bullets pattering against the walls, faithfully, with other Union surgeons, continued to labor for the relief of the suffering wounded.

While work was being done on the fortifications regular details were sent out for picketing. And with all preparations for a reception the rebels did not come.

Pollard in his "Lost Cause," says, the battle of Olustee "was decisive, as it resulted in the expulsion of the enemy from Florida, and the preservation of this state to the Confederacy." Co. G did not agree with Mr. Pollard of Richmond, any more than they agreed with those Army of the Potomac critics who so strongly intimate that when Jackson drove back the 11th Corps at Chancellorsville the Army of the Potomac was defeated. The 11th Corps never assumed to be the bulwark of that army. Gen. Seymour was not the forlorn hope of the North. The brigade of Gen. Ames was soon to hold Jacksonville, St. Augustine and Fernandina. Co. G was not so easily expelled.

On the 12th of April came the news that the brigade was to be dissolved and Gen. Ames was ordered north with the 10th Corps. Co G had never seen that army corps assembled during the six months they had been attached. While on the John's Island excursion they were in the largest assemblage of that corps with whom they ever had marched. There "Little Schimmel" was at their head once more, in charge of the expedition, and the general had not forgotten them. The boys had learned to like Gen. Ames, because he was a good officer, if a little rough at times. This new arrangement made the 144th and the 157th N.Y. regiments virtually the town guard at Jacksonville. The 17th Conn. was sent to St. Augustine and the 107th Ohio to Fernandina, while the 75th Ohio was to be mounted for scouting purposes. To these forces should be added the artillery and not least, the gunboats in the river.

In the month of March one hundred recruits arrived who had been secured by the recruiting party under Col. Carmichael; they were soon after followed by that officer and his attachment. Of those recruits Co. G received twenty-two, increasing the company to about forty men. With but few exceptions those new men were excellent material.

To those boys of Lenox it seemed always summer, a country where snow never fell; yet, they knew spring had come in Florida, when the magnolias spread their blossoms.

The trying experiences of Jacksonville were at an end. No more digging by day and by night, no more sleeping in those trenches to be preyed upon by fleas. The regiment was to be divided.

One hot morning, April 21st, 1864, the boys moved down to the St. John's river. Companies A, B, C, D, E and F under Col. Brown, embarked upon one boat for Fernandina, and Co. G, H, I and K under Col. Carmichael, on another boat, for Picolata twenty-five miles up the river.

With Col. Brown went the state colors and the band. With the Picolata detachment was the beautiful flag presented the regiment by the ladies of Cortland.

When the two boats swung out into the stream the boys cheered, and moisture gathered in some eyes, for it was the parting of a family. Then the band struck up a lively tune, and a bend in the river intervened, drawing the attention of Co. G to the subject of torpedoes. The gunboats and other boats, most of them, were provided each with a torpedo-rake at the bows, nevertheless there was great uncertainty in the air as well as in the dark colored water upon which they were riding. At the wide water some distance above Jacksonville, lay two large side-wheel steamers, sunk by torpedoes. On one of these boats a large number of colored troops perished. The trip was not entirely comfortable and Co. G was too intently listening, to note many really novel and entertaining features of this first excursion on the upper waters. There was danger, as afterwards proved, as a steamer was sunk near Jacksonville shortly after. So when Picolata was reached the boys were not sorry to step on dry land.

The 157th boys relieved a detachment of colored troops, pitched their tents under the trees and softened their beds with gray moss.

Duty at Picolata was picketing. Men were sent up the river to Orange Mills and to other points. At night a picket boat lay in the river below the post. Really, the Picolata station was an outpost of St. Augustine some twelve or fourteen miles distant. It was a crossing point on the St. John's.

The river is sluggish and water coming from many swamps is not wholesome. For a few days the men drank river water, then barrels were filled and brought into camp from springs outside the lines and drinking from the river was prohibited. Dr. Crawe, to whom the matter was referred, decided the water of the St. John's was well-fitted for breeding alligators, but not wholesome as a beverage for men.

As an additional safeguard, a small stockade was erected in the rear of the camp, armed with two small brass pieces which had been captured at Pilatka, a few months previous. To man those guns men were detailed from the post and drilled by an artilleryman.

On the 27th of April, Gen. Birney came up the river with a colored regiment and two steamers. Companies G, H, and K were ordered to draw fourteen days' rations and to be supplied with sixty rounds of cartridges, all of which was promptly done and the colonel and his three companies embarked on the small steamer, Harriet Weed. Then, convoyed by the gunboat Ottawa the expedition moved up the river. The gunboat stopped opposite Pilatka—not an inhabitant was in sight—and the huge amidships gun bore threatening upon the small city. Leaving the Ottawa, the other steamers passed up the River to Welaka, where Co. G was hurried ashore and thrown out as skirmishers, while the other troops were rapidly landing and getting into line. With a guide, the 157th in the advance, the column proceeded up the river. It was a dark night, the deep foliage along the roadside added to the gloom.

Soon after dark the boys reached a house. For some reason Col. Carmichael suspected a rebel was hidden about the premises. A search was made and he was found hiding under the house. When the man was brought forth, his family made pitiful appeals, to which the colonel kindly replied, assuring them the union troops would take good care of Mr. Shook, who was blacksmith for the troop called Steven's cavalry. And so the unfortunate man was marched away from his weeping family, a prisoner of war.

Gen. Birney halted the column near old Fort Gates (a relic of the Seminole war) and the boys laid down behind their stacked arms. They had been asleep but a little while when a gun was fired, then another, and more.

Col. Carmichael called his men to "attention" and they stood at their guns, until it was learned that the colored pickets had mistaken shadows for men moving about. Co. G were again nicely dreaming the hours away, when bang! bang! went the guns.

"Lie still, boys," said the colonel, "there is nothing out there but stumps and bushes."

And the tired men snuggled down under their blankets, not very well pleased with the picket-line.

Next day, the 28th, the column left the river and marched out into the country, halting at a place called Granville Priests, a small and varied assortment of poor houses and negro cabins. At that place the 157th parted from Gen. Birney and the colored regiment.

At Priests a fine lot of sweet potatoes were found. The cooks arranged their kettles and the boys held a feast.

Col. Carmichael and his men were ordered to return to Picolata driving as many cattle as could be secured. Native herdsmen were employed and the colonel, with no escort, started with them, all mounted, in advance of his men, promising to await them at Middle Haw Creek.

Capt. McWilliams was then ranking officer. He led his men to Middle Haw and camped. The colonel was not there and every one worried, for they knew he was among natives.

Next day, April 30th, they were marched fourteen miles through the pine woods and saw no house until reaching Sander's corral. There they found a sort of cabin built of poles, raised two feet above the ground. There, also, they found Col. Carmichael, safe and sound, with several herdsmen and a large drove of cattle, and when night dropped over the scene the epicures of the detachment gathered a few of the Sanders chickens.

The door of the cabin suddenly opened and a tall woman appeared, holding high a lighted candle.

"Colonel," she screamed, "your men are taking my chickens. I heard them squawking."

"Oh, no, madam, I guess they will not hurt your chickens?" was the reply.

It was fine to have the colonel a little hard of hearing, sometimes. Very well he knew his boys had no hold on any chicken that "squawked." Some chicken roosts were too near the house, anyway.

May 1st was Sunday. The route led over the usual flat country, through stretches of pine, across savannas, and occasionally here and there a basin-shaped pond or sink-hole. The column passed around the head of Dunn's Lake, the boys supplying themselves with sour oranges from trees near the landing. At night they bivouaced near a corral. They had made eighteen miles.

The boys of Co. G long remembered the camp of that night near Dunn's Lake. It was decided that one of the herd should be butchered. John Wise of Co. G was the butcher of the detachment, but the night in question he politely waived his privilege and an officer was allowed to do the shooting. The result was amazing. The poor creature had been driven all day and yet was strong enough, when dressed, to have pulled a cart. He was a patriarch of the herd. And the boys cut him into small bits and toasted him on sharpened sticks; they threw the meat on the coals to see it curl up like bark; they nibbled at it, they tried to chew it, but the patriarch was to be eaten only in lumps. Many compliments were launched at John Wise, who came forward, explained and was excused. For John was a good fellow.

May 2d was the anniversary of the Chancellorsville fight. After an easy march camp was reached about 5 p.m., at Middleton's farm. As evening came on the cows were driven into a yard and milked by women. No milking stools were necessary, as the native cow of Florida is built on the elevated plan. Milkers placed their heads in front of the cow's hip and slightly bending, drew the milk into the gourd. Each cow yielded nearly one quart of milk, or as one woman said, the forty cows gave, "I reckon, about a bushel." Co. G gathered around the corrall and when milking was over they held out their canteens and had them filled, paying for the milk in cash. When Colonel Carmichael said, "no foraging," he was obeyed.

May 3d the boys marched to Moccasin Branch, an easy tramp of eight miles. There they found the most primitive methods of farm life in the wilderness, still in operation. The old man had his tan vat behind the house. A stump was scooped out to serve as a mortar for making samp or hominy. His apparatus for sugar-making—the rollers for crushing cane and the sugar out-fit generally, all were of the simplest design. But the sour oranges there were fully up-to-date in their intensity.

May 4th, after an absence of one week, Co. G found themselves again in camp at Picolata. The detachment had marched one hundred miles and brought in fifteen hundred cattle of all sizes and ages. Co. G were becoming accustomed to good old Florida beef. The cattle were taken to Jacksonville for army and navy consumption.

The jaunt was rather enjoyed by the old trampers. On the recruits, however, it bore heavily, that being their first march in harness; but they did remarkably well.

The routine of camp life was again established, and quite easy it was. The heat of a far southern sun was becoming stronger and the boys felt languid. Moored along the river banks were dozens of dug-outs of every pattern, prizes taken along the shores; and these little boats afforded a diversion for any who could handle them. Some of the boys set night-lines and caught cat-fish. Others fished at night with torch and spear for the gar fish. Alligators were often seen floating with the current, or at night they were heard among the rushes bellowing like young bulls. Occasionally an alligator was shot.

The greatest pests Co. G found in Florida were mosquitoes and gnats. Many a blacksnake was seen with an occasional venomous snake, and water snakes, but no member of the regiment was bitten although they spread their blankets for the night, on the ground, without thought or precaution. Often small scorpions were found in the tents and rarely a centipede. But fleas were sometimes secreted in the hanging moss.

East Florida in those days, was mostly wilderness. Deer and other game abounded. Outside the picket line, for some time, the men on post were frequently annoyed by prowling wildcats, whose running about and snarling, broke the monotony of dark nights.

The view about Picolata was very pleasant when the plains were bright with flowers, when the land appeared worthy of its fair name. Florida is much improved in population and thrift in these later days and may be enjoyable. But for all their sunshine and flowers, their oranges and "'arly sarce," Co. G would not, in 1864, have parted with a single square acre out of old Lenox,—not for all East Florida.

Sunday, May 22nd, while the Picolata force were drawn up for inspection, two steamers arrived, together with the gunboat Ottawa.

Before this time, Col. Brown had been ordered to Hilton Head as Provost Marshall of the Department of the South. That change made Col. Carmichael ranking officer and he accordingly made requisition for companies A and F and also for the band, all of whom were at Fernandina.

Maj. Place had returned from imprisonment, and came up to Picolata in charge of the two companies. When the boys marched aboard the gunboat Ottawa the major was left in charge of the camp.

This time a landing was made opposite Pilatka, the men halting for the night seven miles further up the river.

May 23d the column marched to Middle Haw Creek, nearly twenty miles, reaching camp at 9 p.m. A junction was made there with troops from St. Augustine.

May 24th was hot and sultry. One day's rations were issued and the boys took the back-track for Picolata.

Near noon a halt was made near a large water hole and the men were told to fill their canteens, as no more water would be found until night. In the afternoon as they moved along the narrow trail they grew very thirsty, so that long before night many of the canteens were empty. As the night came on and no water was found, Col. Carmichael suspected some trickery from the guide, and he detailed two men with loaded pieces to escort the man and to shoot upon the first indication of treachery. And so they moved along, the poor guide insisting that he was right, only he had miscalculated distance. The boys of the 144th N. Y., were suffering from thirst and their colonel ordered his pioneers to dig for water. The guide called out,

"You'll not get water there."

"Where will we find it?" growled back a chorus of voices.

"Jist about two mile from yere."

"Are you sure?" asked Col. Carmichael.

"Yes, cunnel, I'm dead sure."

The colonel called to several mounted officers, and away they all went out into the darkness. Co. G sank upon the ground and waited patiently. After a time the colonel returned and reported water a short distance ahead and marching about a mile they reached Middleton's and were again on familiar ground. It was midnight before the boys had drank their coffee and were under the blankets. They were very tired, having marched thirty miles.

March 25, an easy march was promised the men and they made eight miles to Moccasin Branch, where they halted for dinner. Again taking the road the march was increased to thirteen miles, part of the way through a brisk summer shower.

The boys were halted that night in a lane not far from the shack where the colonel was quartered. Air to breathe seemed scarce and fleas appeared to be unusually active. At the miserable house the officers, lying on the floor, were much annoyed by the persistent occupation of hogs underneath them. Fleas gnawed the officers and they scratched and scolded. Fleas tortured the saw-backs and they humped themselves and rubbed against the floor-joists, and as they toiled they grunted. Out in the lane the men of Co. G were too busy to sleep. That little farm in the wilderness might have been the main supply station for all East Florida fleadom.

It was an easy march May 26th of only nine miles to Picolata. When the boys approached the camp Maj. Place came out to meet them with the band. Then Co. G braced up in style and stepped off to the good old tune of "The Girls We Left Behind Us." Co. G remembered the girls.

The object of the expedition, besides giving the boys an outing, was to gather up any loose rebels in the vicinity of Dunn's Lake. Probably there were more soldiers in that command alone, than the rebels had in the entire state of Florida at the time. There was no accounting for novelties in the department, illustrative of experimental or theoretical campaigning. And while Folly Island was anchored permanently, its suggestive and appropriate title was indelibly stamped upon nearly every expedition organized in the Department, from September, 1863, until the close of the war.

It was an extensive experiment station for the engineer officers of the army and for the navy. There they could study the flight of missiles and their force; the relative difference in guns and mortars, and resistance of sand and iron armor. In short, it was a safe school where many a favorite matriculated and from which very few graduated. It was called warfare, because there were hospitals there and many graves.

Soon after the return from the second excursion, Col. Carmichael with fifty picked men were taken across the river and landed near Green Cove Springs. They proceeded into the country, returning next day, having captured a rebel mail and several horses.