Military Hierarchy:

CORPS	Two or more Divisions
DIVISION	Smaller than Corp, larger than Brigade
BRIGADE	Made up of Regiments
REGIMENT	Two or more Battalions
BATTALION	Three or more Companies
COMPANY	Sub-division of a Regiment or Battalion


Lamented Comrade's Writings Tell of Service Of Locally Recruited, Civil War Unit in 
147th Regiment 

By M. S. SCHROYER

CHAPTER I
   This is to be a history of Company G, 147th, Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, the 
only company of Civil War soldiers credited to Snyder county, that was sworn in for 
three years in that terrible war between the North and the South.
   To effect our organization we held meetings in Port Trevorton, Beavertown, Salem 
and Kratzerville. This was in August and the early part of September, 1862. On 
September 12 we were sworn in by John Emmitt, Esq., right opposite the Keystone 
Hotel (now the Hotel Sterner). 
   We immediately assembled for the purpose of electing officers, and these officers 
were chosen: Captain, Charles S. Davis: First Lieutenant, Nelson Byers; Second 
Lieutenant, William H. Schroyer.     Other members of the company were:   
Non-commissioned officers - First Sergeant, B. T. Parks; Second Sergeant, James E. 
Lloyd; Third Sergeant, George W. Townsend; Fourth Sergeant, Henry W. Baker; Fifth 
Sergeant, Frank M. Stuck.
   First Corporal, Isaac D. Whitmer; second corporal, John R. Reigle; third corporal, 
Francis W. Wallace; fourth corporal, Frederick B. Ulrich; fifth corporal, Henry H. 
Shrawder; sixth corporal, Jeremiah Malick; seventh corporal, Samuel H. Bower; eighth 
corporal, George W. VonNeida; Musicians-Lewis C. Schroyer, and Antes Ulrich. 
   Privates-SOLOMAN APP, JEREMIAH APP, John F. Bingaman, Asa B. Churchhill, 
H. J. Doebler, Amantes M. Eby, Daniel Ehrhart, Edward Fisher, W. E. Fausnaucht, 
George D. Greggs, Jacob Garman, Daniel W. Gross, William Henninger, William H. 
Herbster, Thomas Herbster, Allen Hassinger, Uriah P. Hafley, Daniel Herbster, John 
P. Haas, Jeremiah Hathaway, Samuel Jarrett, Jacob Krebs, William S. Keller, Henry 
Kreamer, Franklin Knarr, Daniel W. Kreamer, Fred H. Knight, Peter Lahr, Daniel D. 
Lahr, John C. Long, Joseph A. Lumbard, Jacob Lieder, John T. Mark, Elias Millhoff, 
Louis Millhoff, John Millhoff, Elias Miller, Jeremiah Moyer, John Mull, Reuben 
Miller, John Matter, William McFall, Isaac A. Knapp, Jacob Nerhood, Elias Noll, 
George Noaker, Calvin E. Parks, Martin L. Parks, John Reed, Isaac E. Reed, Levi J. 
Romig, Jacob J. Reigel, Isaac B. Reed, M. S. Schroyer, Henry E. Schreffler, John K. 
Stuck, James W. Smith, William Spade, Jacob Swab, William Seesholtz, John A. 
Swartz, Adam S. Sholly, Michael Schoffer, William H. Schaffer, Stephen Templin, 
Joseph S. Ulsh, James P. Ulrich, Lot Ulrich.


   Hardly had we been sworn into service until the body of the first Selinsgrove soldier, 
who died in the war, was brought home at 4 o'clock that afternoon. The deceased was 
Henry J. Miller, of Co. F, 131st, P. V. I.  A goodly number of the company marched 
over to Isaac Miller's residence, opposite the poorhouse (now the Isle of Que school 
house) and viewed the corpse.
   Next morning, the 13th, we lined up in Market street near Pine, ready to depart for 
the front. Before we left Market street each member of the company was presented with 
a "housewife," donated by the ladies of the town. The gift consisted of a sewing kit, and 
during the time of our service recalled many pleasant recollections.
   Headed by the Selinsgrove band we marched to the river and there boarded flats to 
be ferried across the stream to the Junction, where we were delayed several hours on 
account of the lateness of the train. It was at that time that the Rev. Messrs Hall, 
Domer and Parks delivered addresses, and Rev. Domer baptized the company as the 
"Keystone Guards." A rather humorous incident occurred when Rev. Dr. Stephen A. 
Owen, of Hagerstown, Md., then a student in Missionary Institute (now Susquehanna 
University), delivered an address to us. At the height of his oratory the stones on the 
mountain side, where he was standing, began to slide, and the young orator made a 
sudden and unceremonious descent, cutting short his excellent speech.
   We boarded the train at Selinsgrove Junction and arrived at Harrisburg in the 
afternoon of the above date. To the music of drum and fife we marched up Market 
street to Third, and from Third to Ridge avenue, out Ridge avenue to Camp Simmons, 
where we camped.
   This was my first visit to Harrisburg, and the march up Market street and out to 
camp was one of the proudest days of my life. My age was 19 years and five months. 
So proud was I that I hardly think General Jackson's overcoat would have made me a 
jacket. 

CHAPTER II
   After arriving at Camp Simmons Captain Tarbutton, who was in command, assigned 
us to quarters.
   We were placed in A tents, in messes of four in a tent, with a board floor four inches 
above the ground and on it a good bunch of straw. A cook shanty had been erected and 
our meals were served there, done up in Continental style by the cook, Mr. 
Laubenstein.
   On Monday morning we were given a thoro examination by the army surgeon. Only a 
few were rejected for not coming up to the army standard. We were then marched to 
Market square in Harrisburg and sworn into United States service for three years or 
during the war.
   The man who administered the oath sized us up; and, seeing a good pair of legs 
under each one of the boys, he believed we would make good runners, so he swore us in 
as cavalry.
   Then we marched to the quartermaster's building, where we were fitted out as 
follows: a cap, coat, overcoat, pair of trousers, pair of shoes, two shirts and two suits of 
underclothes. The clothing was tailor-made and given to us regardless of size. The 
result was certainly amusing, as some of the boys, who wore a number 10 shoe, would 
probably receive a number 5, and vice versa. It was the same way with the clothing. The 
large fellows would invariably get short legged trousers. It took some time to adjust 
matters by trading until we were all satisfied. Haversacks, knapsacks, gum blankets and 
woolen blankets were then drawn.
   The Government allowed us $45 a year for clothing and if at the end of the year we 
had overdrawn that amount, our overdraft was deducted from our voucher, and if the 
amount was under the $45 the government paid us the balance.
   Now we were fitted out as full fledged soldiers and willing to do our duty as such.
   One of our duties in Harrisburg was to guard the capitol buildings. One night the 
writer-then a private-was on duty acting as corporal, and placed John K. Stuck, of our 
company, on guard duty and instructed him how to challenge any one coming toward 
him. I told him to challenge thus: "Who comes there?" The party challenged would 
answer: "A friend with the countersign." The guard would then say: "Advance one and 
give the countersign."   About midnight I went the round to relieve the guards, and so 
advancing to Stuck's post, he yelled out in broken English: "Who comes dere?" I 
replied: "A friend with the countersign." After waiting a while, Stuck finally blurted 
out: "Our now wase ich byme donner net wos tsu sawga."   That reply of his became a 
by-word with us until the close of the war.
   One night a soldier from Camp Curtin, adjoining Camp Simmons, broke thru the 
guard, and running at breakneck speed, yelled that someone was chasing him and 
wanted to kill him. He broke into the tent occupied by Sergeant John R. Reigle, J. J. 
Reigle and William Henninger, stepping on them while they were asleep.   They awoke, 
fearfully frightened, and downed the intruder. While Messrs. Reigle held the intruder, 
Henninger, all excited and trembling, tried to rub a match on the tent, at the same time 
calling to the two men in German: "Habe un bis ich des licht ow sthecht."  
   Finally a light was produced, and there beneath those two stalwart soldiers lay the 
poor stranger, shouting: "Ich bin der Johnnie Schultz. Ich cum fun Schuylkill koundy. 
Ich bin un gardraften mon, dot cumma se, se welle mich dote maucha. Oh, ich bin der 
Johnnie Schultz. Ich cum fun Schuylkill koundy."  


   By this time the nearby tents were emptied to see the fun. Some of the camp guards 
later removed him to the hospital, where it was said that he had the poker. That was 
the last we saw of him, but the name of Johnnie Schultz from Schuylkill koundy was 
never forgotten by us during our army service. 

CHAPTER III
   While in camp a little girl was murdered on Allison's Hill, east of Harrisburg. It was 
reported that the murderer was a soldier, so orders were issued that no soldier was 
allowed to leave camp, but that any and all should be admitted. Some five or six 
citizens. men and women, were brought into camp to search for the supposed 
murderer.
   We were drawn up in line, and those people took a front and back view of us. A man 
was taken from the line near us, and that created quite a commotion for a little while, 
but he was later released. It is said that the girl was a distant relative of Governor 
Curtin, and that her slayer was captured two years later.
   One of the very pathetic features of our stay in Harrisburg occurred when we were 
keeping a guard at Walnut street hospital. The convalescents were sitting on a bench 
outside the hospital and among the wounded ones were two Rebel soldiers.
   Women from the city came along with baskets of fruit, and they passed along the 
line distributing their gifts. They gave fruit to all except the two boys in grey, and then 
went into the hospital to continue their donations.
   Hardly had they departed until one of our boys arose and said that he was unable to 
enjoy his fruit alone and that he proposed to share his portion with the Confederates. 
He then placed some fruit in the laps of the two men, who had not been helped by the 
women. All the other Boys in Blue thereupon began dividing with the two Johnnies, and 
soon the Southerners had more fruit than any of the Northerners.
   It was then that one of the Boys in Grey arose, and made one of the most pathetic 
and inspiring speeches I ever heard. He said that he did not blame the Northern women 
for the slight to himself and his wounded comrade. He believed that Southern women 
would likely have treated Northern prisoners in the South similarly, but that he was 
overcome by the generosity of the Northern soldiers in sharing their fruit with him and 
his companion.
   Both those Rebel soldiers then arose and with hand uplifted to Almighty God 
pledged allegiance to the American Flag.
   That was just one of life's instances showing the value of an act of kindness.
   We expected to leave Harrisburg soon, and boys of Company G wanted to be ready 
to meet the enemy. A number of them bought Bowie knives and revolvers. Among them 
was Ed Fisher, who conceived the idea that if he had a self-cocking revolver he would 
be able to put down the rebellion himself.
   One day in camp Fisher hurriedly ran his hand down into his trousers pocket, where 
he carried his rapid firing piece of ordinance, and to his surprise he struck the trigger 
and off went the gun. The hot smoke curled down his pantaloons, and he, of course, 
imagined that it was blood.
   A hasty examination relieved his anxiety, but the ball of the cartridge had gone thru 
his pocketbook, which was very light after the purchase of the revolver. The ball struck 
the ground just in front of his big toe, and that settled Ed for carrying such deadly 
weapons. I don't think he ever carried one since then.
   An order had been issued by the War Department that any volunteer was privileged 
to join the regulars, and Henry H. Shrawder, now of Sunbury, took advantage of the 
order and leaving us at Harrisburg, was assigned to the Fourth Regiment, U. S. 
Regulars. He was wounded under Sherman in the battle of Kenesaw Mountain, Ga., in 
1864, but there is another sad feature of his military career and I expect to chronicle it 
at a later time. 
   The company remained in camp doing guard duty at the city hospitals and in and 
about the camp until November 24, 1862, when we were transferred to Harper's Ferry, 
Va., for the purpose of organizing the 147th Regiment. I was detailed to carry the 
colors from Harrisburg to Harper's Ferry.
   We left Camp Simmons on Monday, but were compelled to camp in a shanty in 
Harrisburg until the next day, on account of the lateness of the train. We went to 
Baltimore, Md., on the 25th and took our meals that day at the Soldiers' Relief 
Association rooms. The meat, served us, was said to be salt horse. It compared, 
however, favorably with the old sow belly, so much relished by the boys during the 
balance of our service.
   We were placed in a large brick house in Baltimore for the night. Some of the boys 
managed to get out and attended the theater. So far as I was concerned my exchequer 
was too low, for two cents was all the money I had. I was anxious to see the Chesapeake 
Bay, so I started off alone for the wharf. The bay and fish markets were great sights for 
me, and it was a delightful trip.
   Wednesday, the 26th, we left Baltimore, Md., for Harper's Ferry, Va., where we 
arrived about noon. We marched thru the town to Bolivar Heights, two miles distant. 
Here we joined the regiment and became Company G of the 147th Regiment, 
Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, First Brigade, Second Division, Twelfth Army Corps. 
Our Division Commander was General John W. Geary.
   We were now on Rebel soil, where just a few weeks before General Miles surrendered 
thousands of Yankee boys to Stonewall Jackson. It was in Harper's Ferry, too, that 
John Brown organized his insurrection for free slaves, just prior to the war, for which 
he was hanged at Charlestown, Va., just five miles distant.

CHAPTER IV
   Thus we started out for three years active campaigning with a full determination to 
do our humble share in blotting out secession. 
   Harpers' Ferry, on the south side of the Potomac River, is situated on Bolivar 
Heights, West Va. East of the town the Shenandoah River breaks into the Potomac. 
Just across the Shenandoah River is Louden Heights in Louden county Virginia. North 
and across the Potomac River is Maryland Heights is Maryland. 
   A large fort had been erected thereon. Batteries placed upon either height can easily 
throw their projectiles from each to the other.
   We reached Harpers' Ferry by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. The bridge across 
the Potomac had been burned and we crossed on a pontoon bridge. The first sight 
greeting our eyes was the ruins of the old United States arsenal which had contained 
from 100,000 to 200,000 stand of arms, destroyed by John Brown. 
   Later we visited John Brown's cave, along the river, just above Harpers' Ferry. Here 
Brown had with him 17 white men and five blacks, when he began hostilities. I think 
that a great majority of Company G entered the cave at different times, and explored it 
thoroughly.
   The opening of the cave was made secure by two massive doors, made of railroad sills 
and fastened with large pieces of iron and huge hinges. Thru these sills holes were cut 
so that the muzzle of the guns would pass thru in case of attack and those inside could 
protect themselves.
   While at camp here our duty was heavy. When not on picket or camp duty we were 
fortifying on Louden Heights. Here we drew our Springfield rifles and drill was the 
order of the day. The boys were all happy. Some of the company never fired off a gun 
before they entered the army, and therefore they thought that when the Johnnies 
learned that Company G had enlisted for the war, the Confederate army would scatter 
to the four winds. We learned different later on.
   The old 28th Pennsylvania Regiment was mustered into service on June 28, 1861, 
composed of fifteen companies, with John W. Gory as the colonel. In 1862 an order 
was issued by the War Department that regiments should consist of ten companies 
only. Therefore companies L, M, N, O and P were detached from the 28th and became 
A, B, C, D and E of the 147th regiment with Ario Pardee, Jr., Lieut. Colonel, and John 
Craig, Major. This organization took place October 21, 1862 at Bolivar Heights. 
Three new companies were added, namely F, G, and H, the regiment consisting of only 
eight companies instead of the full quota of 10. We had the advantage of being with 
soldiers who had seen considerable service in the 28th regiment.
   We were awakened bright and early the morning of December 10 by the bugles of the 
different regiments of our division. Breakfast over, roll was called, and everything was 
in readiness to move. We started out with knapsacks well packed, all our household 
goods on our backs.
   We crossed the Shenandoah River on a wire bridge, marched to Hillsburn and 
encamped for the night, traveling 10 miles. We were a very tired set of boys, but after a 
good night's rest we were up early and ready for another day.
   By this time our knapsacks were considerably lightened. We agreed that we were 
carrying a surplus of goods, with which we could dispense. It was said that some of the 
boys even threw
away their postage stamps.
   Freddie Ulrich carried an extra pair of boots, hung on his knapsack. The boys 
quietly, whenever a chance afforded, dropped a stone into his boots until finally poor 
Fred, as he says,
stopped at a tree to wait for Will McFall. Freddie says he never played-out and we 
agreed to let him have his own way about it. Had not the stones in his boots rattled 
when he lay down to
rest, I do not think he would have been able to go with us the next day.
   On December 13, 1862, we left Gum Springs and marched to Fairfax Court House 
and encamped, traveling 17 miles.
   On the 14th we broke camp, passing Fair Station, encamping at Wolf Run Shoals, 
near Occoquan Creek, march seven miles.

CHAPTER V
   On December 16 we broke camp and marched to Dumphries, traveling four miles.
   The battle of Fredericksburg was fought the next day, and we could hear the 
cannonading very distinctly. After the battle we faced about and marched north along 
the Potomac River to Wolf
Run Shoals. about three miles south of Fairfax Station on the Orange and Alexandria 
Railroad, traveling 20 miles. We were expected to go into winter quarters, but in that 
we were mistaken.
   While in this camp brother Lewis took sick. We remained there until the end of the 
month, when we broke camp and marched to Dumphries, a distance of 20 miles. Soon 
after our camp was established and winter quarters put up, we were visited by 
Selinsgrove friends as follows: John Parks, Levi Ulrich and Edward McClinsy. Their 
stay, however, was not very long, as the first night after their arrival orders were quietly 
sent around thru the regiment about midnight that Rebels under General Mosby with 
his cavalry were prowling around and expected to attack us before morning.
   This was fun for the boys of Company G, but not much cause for delight for our 
friends from Selinsgrove. They were in an enemy's territory and had nothing with them 
to defend themselves, and had the enemy made an attack upon us and captured any of 
them, they might have been kept prisoners during the balance of the war.   Fortunately 
the attack was not made. Nevertheless our friends determined to go home in the 
morning. Mr. Parks said to Levi Ulrich: "By Judas, Levi, mere gana hame." "Gosh." said 
Levi, "Do is ken blots for uns."    And home they went.
   January 17, 1863, was a sad day for me. Brother Lewis, who took sick about a month 
before, grew worse daily until that morning at half-past five o'clock, when typhoid fever 
had done its work, my dear brother breathed his last. He gave his young life a sacrifice 
to his country, at the age of 22 years, 10 months and 29 days.
   Eight of the boys of the regiment lay sick with typhoid fever, when brother Lewis 
died in a canvas hospital tent, 12x16 feet. No beds or cots were there for them to lie 
upon, but instead saplings from six to eight inches in diameter were split in two, pine 
bows were scattered over the saplings and a gum blanket was spread over them. There 
was no fire with the exception of a small sheet iron stove, which had to be carried out 
whenever the least bit of air stirred, on account of the smoke filling the tent.   Neither 
had we light of any kind in the hospital. All was darkness and quiet, save for the 
moaning and groaning of the poor fellows by my side. It was a cold January night that 
my brother's spirit ascended to God, Who gave it.
   The doctors would then not allow a drop of water to be given any of the fever 
stricken victims. Our camp was only 40 miles from the city of Washington, yet no 
accommodations for the sick. January 18, Lieut. William H. Schroyer was given 
furlough to take the remains of brother Lewis to Selinsgrove for burial. His body now 
rests in sight of his old home, awaiting judgment day. 
   Our camp duties were pretty difficult. When not on picket on camp guard the order 
of the day was drill. The winter of 1862-63 we had very cold and unpleasant weather. 
and on February 22 we had about eight inches of snow. A goodly number of us were on 
picket at Fort Gandy and nearly froze to death. I remember the gunboats on the 
Potomac River firing salutes that day in honor of George Washington. 
   We were called on to witness the drumming out of camp of one of the members of 
the 28th Pennsylvania Regiment. This particular soldier had just come in from picket 
duty. when the captain told him to chop some wood. The private told the captain that 
if he would excuse him from other duty he would chop the wood, or would take it 
turn-a-bout with the other boys of the company, otherwise he refused to do the work. 
The captain reached for him and the soldier knocked him down. The private was court-
martialed, and the finding of the court was that he was to have his head shaved and a 
letter D picked on his hip with India ink. That was to brand him as dismissed or 
disgraced.
   He was brought out in full view of our brigade of six regiments. They placed a bar of 
soap in a large bucket of water, not too warm either, for it was snowing at a great rate 
at this time, lathered his head and shaved it as bare as the inside of a hand. Then they 
picked the letter D on his hip, cut all the military buttons off his clothing, tied his 
hands behind his back, and a guard with fixed bayonets in the rear of him and the drum 
corps playing Poor Old Tory, tarred and feathered and sent him away, because he was a 
Tory. They turned him out of camp and left him run.
   This same soldier went home, recruited a company. became captain of it and is said 
to have done good service for Uncle Sam until the close of the war. He was certainly a 
wronged victim, the boys agreed, for when General Geary ordered us to hiss and hoot 
him, when he marched past us, not a soldier, opened his mouth.

CHAPTER VI
   On the 12th of March we buried with military honors Samuel P. Mullen, a member 
of Company E of the Regiment, and strange to say he was the only soldier of our 
regiment over whose body military funeral honors were performed during our term of 
service.
   I think it was the most solemn funeral I had attended up to that time. The Regiment 
was drawn up into line Colonel Ario Pardee in command. The corpse was placed in an 
ambulance; the drums were muffled; the Regiment reversed arms and marched in 
columns of fours to the place of burial. The tune of the funeral march is the same as 
the Portuguese hymn, found in our church hymnals. With slow and solemn tread we 
marched to the grave; there we were ordered to shoulder arms, then to invert arms, 
which is done by placing the muzzle of the gun on the toe of the left foot, barrels to 
the front, the left hand on the stock of the gun and the right hand on top of the left 
hand, the head bowed slightly forward. You remain in this position until the body is 
lowered into the grave, when the firing squad shoots three volleys over the grave, Then 
the parade returns to the camp and is dismissed. 
   A pathetic part of the burial was that no relatives of the deceased was present. 
Someone placed on the headboard of the grave this inscription: "Sleep, sleep, a soldier's 
sleep. Thy weary march is over." If my memory serves me correctly, not even a prayer 
was offered. Our Regiment had no chaplain, a position held by Rev. Hall, who died of 
smallpox before we left Harrisburg.
   We had quite a number of typhoid cases during the winter of 1862 and 1863 The 
medical department issued orders that each company should report at the doctor's tent 
every morning until further orders.
   Company G was always on hand as soon as sick call was given by the drum corps. 
The dose we got was a mixture of quinine, red pepper and whiskey. This was a hot 
dose, but we had to swallow it. It was die dog or eat the hatchet. William E. 
Fausnaucht positively refused to take his dose, and said that "you can lead an ox to 
water but you can not make him drink."
   Henry J. Doebler was the only one who was successful in coaxing the doctor to give 
him his whiskey straight. Whether or not the above was a preventative, this I know, that 
Fausnaucht never missed a day of service until he had his leg shot off at New Hope 
Church, Ga., in 1864, and I am glad to say that at this writing he is still in the land of 
the living.
	(Editor's Note: This article was written by Sergeant Schroyer in 1911)
   While in this camp the boys enjoyed themselves to the fullest extent. When off duty, 
they played tricks on one another and there was always something to make the camp 
lively. Often times it would happen that all the members of a mess were out on a picket 
at the same time. Then someone would quietly get into the tent and, having a lot of 
powder, would scratch away the ashes in the chimney, place the powder, then scatter 
ashes over all, then get wood and fix up everything ready to put a match to it.
   When the pickets were relieved and they entered their tents, they could be heard 
talking to themselves and wondering who was the kind, friend in the company who did 
the kindness of arranging for their fire. They would begin preparing their meal, placing 
coffee on the fire and getting everything ready for their mid-day meal, the salt pork 
broiled, the crackers roasted and the coffee about boiling, when lo and behold an 
explosion takes place. The tent is filled with dust and ashes, the coffee gone, but the 
crackers and salt pork would be gathered up, washed and prepared again. The guilty 
ones would scamper off to their tents, get under their blankets and pretend to be 
asleep, having sweet dreams of home.
   I cannot give you the details of the second explosion; you, dear reader, will have to 
imagine what took place.
   Mr. Laubenstein, as stated before, was our company cook. The army beans required 
three hours cooking. This occupied very much of our precious time. Someone 
informed the cook that if a handful of nails were thrown into the camp kettle the sharp 
edges of the nails would cut the outer skin of the beans and they would be ready to 
serve much sooner. The next bean soup we had, sure enough, the handful of nails were 
at the bottom of the kettle. 

CHAPTER VII
   The army louse, that historic "grayback," which went in and out before Union and 
Confederate soldiers without ceasing, like death was no respecter of persons.
   The best and most patriotic blood in the land flowed in its veins, from the Major 
General to the lowest private. The majority in Company G, in this camp at Dumphrie, 
had their first experience with the army louse. We seemed to not want even our tent 
mates to know that we were lousy. The neatest escaped the longest, but sooner or later 
the time came when every one of us had them. 
   When for a little while we had none of the louse or very few of them, we imagined 
that some disease was lurking in our veins and that the army louse wanted none of our 
blood. It was said that the animal became a great-grandparent in 24 hours. We thought 
that they always bit where it was hardest to scratch, especially under the knapsack, 
between the shoulders while on the march. 
   When in camp, by boiling our clothes we soon got rid of the insects, but the boiling 
would need to be repeated often. The catching of the louse was called (k)nitting work. 
Some one was examining his garments, when one of the boys yelled out: "Hello, 
Freddie, you better get up and shake that shirt, then write home to your parents and 
sweetheart and tell them that you stood where hundreds fell."
   The wood tick was another pest with which we had to contend. It was round and 
small with eight legs and a small head. The head would be imbedded in the flesh and 
the only way to get them out was to pinch the skin until they would back out. If they 
were pulled off, the head remained in the flesh and that would fester, giving the soldier 
much pain and trouble. The boys used to say that the wood-tick belonged to General 
Geary's white-star division, because it had a white spot on its back. 
   You know a company of soldiers is always composed of many different characters 
with as many different dispositions. 
   One of these peculiar characters was Michael Schaffer, who was  superstitious and a 
believed in spooks, hobgoblins and powwowing. The writer was on picket duty one 
night at a very lonely place in the woods. It was near a low, wet place and dark as dark 
could be and raining all the while. The will-o-the-wisps were plentiful everywhere. 
   When I was relieved by Schaffer. I called him aside and said: "Schaffer, Da holt di og 
uff."  "Fur was?" he asked. I said "du warst shunt ous finna."  
   I left him and he took my place on the picket post for two hours. I knew he was 
worked up and that the hours were long ones for him. When he was relieved and came 
back to the reserve post he saw me and said: "Schroyer, cum mole har.  Node sancked 
ehr du worst recht.  Dot drouse sin socha net sauver."   "Why, did you see something?", 
I said. "Gawiss, hov ich. Finf de shenshda hlana visa hundlin sin ols schiwicha my ba 
gasprunga."    The poor fellow was just so worked up that he really believed he saw five 
little white dogs in that dark place. 
   Our winter quarters were built up with logs three and a half feet high. about seven by 
eight feet floor space. Our chimneys were all built on the outside. The reason for that 
was that we had more room on the outside than we had inside
   Our salt pork was shipped to us in barrels. These barrels were sawed in two and used 
for wash tubs. Other barrels were used for placing on the tops of our chimneys, the top 
and bottom of each barrel being knocked out so as to create a good draft. In the 
evening, when the roll had been called and taps sounded at 9 o'clock, all lights were 
ordered out, when we had any with which to obey the command. All were supposed to 
be asleep, but, of course, that was only supposition. 
   Then the lions would come forth from their lairs and seek their prey. A barrel, used 
for a tub, would be placed upon the chimney of some tent, in an inverted position. The 
smoke would soon fill the tent, and the innocent sleeping inmates would begin to 
cough, and cough, and cough, until they would be compelled to get out of bed, no 
matter how cold the weather, and remove the tub from the top of the chimney. The 
guilty ones would sit in some secluded spot and listen to what was said, and sometimes 
they would hear things they would rather not have listened to. After a while the 
mischief makers would retire and perhaps before morning someone would play the 
same trick on them. 
   The reader must kindly pardon the Dutch so often used in our little stories. The 
boys of Company G, all of whom were of German descent, would get into an argument 
in English, but as the argument would advance and they would get hot under the collar 
English was too slow, so they would finish up in Dutch, thinking that they could make 
it more emphatic. The balance of the Regiment being English speaking soldiers, they 
christened Company G, "The Dutch Company of Snyder county," as we held up that 
end of it until the close of the war, and, I am glad to say, the survivors continue it at 
this late date. 
   On the fourth of April, Sergeant Henry W. Baker died. I can not recall the cause of 
his death. He was sick only a short time. His brother, George, living then in 
Selinsgrove, was informed of the illness and came right on, but when he arrived Henry 
was dead. Arrangements were made, the body embalmed and brought home for burial. 
He was placed beside Lewis C. Schroyer in the First Lutheran cemetery, Selinsgrove. 
John Matter died at Aquia Creek on the 29th of typhoid fever. That was the third 
death in the company.

CHAPTER VIII
   In our Dumphries camp our Company street was about 40 feet wide. The officers' 
headquarters were located at the west end of the street. The street declined slightly 
toward the east from company headquarters. We had splendid drainage, but every 
precaution was taken to have our camp ground clean and in healthy condition.
   The first thing in the morning was reveille at 6:00 o'clock. At 6:30 roll call by our 
orderly, Sergeant B. T. Parks; at 7:00 a. m., breakfast, if we had anything to eat. At 
7:30 a. m. police call. At this call we would all get out each with a home made broom 
which we made ourselves, or with a bunch of brushes tied together, and sweep the 
company and regimental grounds. The sinks and slop pits would be looked after under 
command of a corporal and several men with shovels. 
   When this was done at 8:30 we had what was called guard mount. Those, who at the 
previous evening roll call were detailed for camp guard or picket duty, would assemble 
at regimental headquarters under command of an officer. There the camp guards were 
separated from the pickets, and under an officer, detailed for camp guard, were taken to 
their post of duty. Those detailed for picket marched to Brigade headquarters and 
there received their instructions, and under a proper officer were taken out and 
stationed on the picket line. 
   Picket duty is always dangerous, but is necessary for the safety of the camp.
   Let me say right here that when in camp this was the daily routine throughout our 
army service. No matter how the weather was, rain or shine, warm or cold, often 
drenched to the skin before we reached the picket line. When there we had no shelter, 
we had only a rubber blanket to throw over our shoulders. Generally 24 hours was the 
time for which we were detailed, but often we were out for three days in succession. 
While on this duty we would stand on post two hours, and off four hours, thus making 
eight hours on the lonely vidette line out of 24. 
   At 10 a. m. drill call, when the companies would go out and have company drill by 
the officers for one hour. At 12 o'clock dinner. At 2:00 p. m. battalion or regimental 
drill for two hours. 6:00 p. m. supper, dress parade at 6:30; 8:30 roll call, and taps at 
9:00 o'clock. That meant lights out and that the day's work was done.
   On Sunday we had no drill, only inspection at 10 a. m. Our tents, beds, clothing and 
guns were closely inspected, also our company grounds. Company G was quite often 
complimented for cleanliness, and the report read at dress parade in the evening. Many 
of the tents of the company were named Mess Number One, Cosy Nook, Kevic, 
Growlers' Retreat, the Happy Family from Penn's Creek, etc.
   The life of a soldier is a busy one, and often a very hard one. Many people imagine 
it's all fun. Those of old Company G, who had a continuous service of two years and 
nine months, know from experience that a soldier's life is not an easy one.
   On the 6th of April our company cook resigned. It was not necessary that Congress 
or the President accept his resignation, so he simply quit. Mr. Laubenstine was not 
sworn in as a soldier. Being blind of one eye, he was exempt from military duty. 
Therefore he could quit whenever he saw fit. He opened a suttlers tent and started by 
selling 3 cent postage stamps for 5 cents each. The colonel, hearing of it, notified him 
unless he stopped at once his whole outfit would be confiscated. After that we bought 
our stamps at the old United States price, 3 cents each. 
   After the resignation of Mr. Laubenstine each one became his own cook. We did not 
follow the recipes of Mrs. Roarer very closely. It took us some little time to know how 
to put up a meal. 
   We had pans with handles 12 or 15 inches long. We often came across flour or corn 
meal; sometimes bought it, sometimes otherwise. We would stir this up, make a batter 
of it, grease the pan well, hold it over the fire, keep shaking the pan to keep the 
slapjacks from burning fast. When we thought it time to turn the cake, with a slight 
twist of the wrist the cake would be thrown into the air, turn a somersault and be 
caught again in the pan. Sometimes half of it would hang out over the edge of the pan. 
Sometimes it wouldn't hang at all, but drop in the ashes. Then we would always make 
the best of it.
   I think it would have pleased some of the large salaried cooks of our swell hotels to 
see how well we managed, and what grand meals we did get up. We always relished 
these meals because we were in good shape to receive them. No dyspepsia in Company 
G.   Someone of the mess would be selected to do the cooking for a little while, then 
another, taking turns. This gave us all a chance to become experts in the culinary 
department. Sometimes we had nothing but crackers. On one such occasion SOLLY 
APP, who was messing with his brother, JERE APP, and was cook at this time, said to 
him "JERE wos wella mere hovva fur suppe?" JERE replied, "I, ich denk grackers."  

CHAPTER IX
   It might be interesting to know just what we received from Uncle Sam, to keep us in 
fighting trim. W. S. Keller was company commissary for a little while and then he was 
promoted to brigade commissary. John T. Mark was then appointed in his stead, and 
held the position until the close of the war. A better selection could not have been 
made from the members of the company. He certainly was faithful and impartial in his 
duties. 
   A soldiers daily allowance while in camp was one lb. crackers, one lb. beef or pork 
(when beef was issued we got no pork and vice versa), beans, rice, coffee, pepper, salt, 
sugar, vinegar and desiccated vegetables, and on a march, beans, rice, vinegar and 
desiccated vegetables were cut out. This vegetable was prepared by being pressed into 
cakes, about 10 by 12 inches square and about one inch in thickness. In it we found 
peas, beans, cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes, rice and onions, and almost everything that 
grows in a garden. The boys used to say it was made up of the rakings of the garden, 
but, nevertheless when it  was properly prepared it made a first class vegetable soup. 
   We received a very small piece for a ration, but by soaking it in water it became quite 
bulky. Elias Noll took his ration with him on picket, intending to eat it without 
cooking. He did eat it, and some time later he complained of severe pain in the 
stomach; his belt got too tight, then his pantaloons had to be widened, and finally he 
lay on the ground moaning, rolling and tossing his pain was dreadful and we thought 
he was going to die. His stomach looked as if he had a bass drum in it, but after quite a 
siege he got relief and you may rest assured, he always cooked his vegetable after that 
instead of putting it away raw.
   The company commissary would draw the rations for so many men in bulk and bring 
it to the company quarters for distribution, where each man would receive his ration of 
crackers for one, two or three days. Generally three days ration would be issued. The 
beef or pork was cut in as many pieces as there were boys in the company, and each one 
was handed his piece. This, oft times, was the cause of a great deal of dissatisfaction, as 
each one thought that the other fellow was getting the largest piece. However, we never 
had any bloodshed about it, for a big growl was the end of it all. The balance of the 
rations were poured out upon a gum blanket, upon which the commissary would make 
as many heaps as there were boys in the company, dividing all as equally as possible. 
   Sometimes we drew our coffee unground, but always roasted and of the best quality. 
When it came unground we put it in little bags which we made out of old pieces of 
shelter tents, took a hatchet and pounded it on a stone until it was fine enough for use. 
When tired and nearly worn out after a hard day's march or a battle, a cup of coffee 
almost strong enough to bear an egg, a few crackers roasted, and a piece of salt pork 
broiled over the fire held with a forked stick, made one of the best meals we think we 
ever ate.
   April 20th, 1863. Upon this day, after spending nearly 90 days in winter quarters in 
our camp at Dumphries, the spring campaign of 1863 opened. Again Company G is on 
the march and the cry is on to Richmond. We left our old camping ground with some 
regret, for it was here that we had many joys and many sorrows.
   The bugles sounded the fall-in call about 8 or 9 o'clock. then forward, and we were 
on the march, going south along the Potomac River. We traveled six miles and 
encamped early in the afternoon near the Chippawampsy Creek.
   April 21st we broke camp, crossed the creek, marched to Aquia Creek and, having 
traveled eight miles, went into camp. The day was intensely hot and the marching 
severe.
   April 22nd, we broke camp about 9 a. m., passed Stafford Court House, traveled six 
miles, where we encamped. From this camp we had a plain view of Prof. Lows' balloon 
in which observations were being made of the enemy in the vicinity of Falmouth. We 
remained in this camp until the 24th, when we broke camp and moved one mile nearer 
Aquia Creek. This camp was known to the boys of Company G as the orchard camp, 
and a fine place it was. On the evening of the 26th, orders were read that the army 
would move next day. 
   When Company G entered the service General McClellan was commander of the 
Army of the Potomac, he having been recalled after the defeat at Manasses under 
General Pope to lead the army upon the invasion of Lee's Army in Maryland, where he 
fought and won the battle of Antietam. Then McClellan moved his army south of the 
Potomac, and was preparing to strike the Confederates. But this step he was prevented 
from taking because, while on the march to Warrenton he was suddenly removed from 
the command of the Army of the Potomac. General Ambrose Burnside on November 
5th, 1862, was directed by the President to relieve McClellan and that he, Burnside, 
was to take command. 

CHAPTER X
   The army numbered 119,661 men on May 21, 1863. Each man was to carry eight 
days' rations, 40 to 60 rounds of ammunition and all his house-goods weighing at least 
75 or 80 pounds. On the 27th the bugles sounded, we broke camp, and the army was 
on the move towards Chancelorsville, traveling this day 12 miles. We crossed Potomac 
Creek and encamped. April 28th. Broke camp, traveled 13 miles, passed Harwood 
Church and encamped in the vicinity of the church. Here we met Captain Ryan's 
company of the 131st, P. V. I. Lieut. M. L. Wagenseller, W. H. Gemberling, J, J. 
Houseworth and a number of others, whose names we cannot recall, belonged to this 
command.
   During the winter of 1862 and 1863 some cavalry was encamped near this church, 
and someone with charcoal had drawn a cavalry charge on the wall, back of the pulpit. 
This picture, of course, showed the Johnnies routed, and the Yankees in full pursuit.   
April 29th. Broke camp, crossed the Rappahanock River, at Kelley's Ford on a canvas 
pontoon bridge. This was 27 miles above Fredericksburg. We also crossed Cedar 
Creek, and the Rapidan River at Germania Ford, and having traveled 18 miles 
encamped just beyond the river. Here a bridge was in course of construction. General 
Lee preparing for a northern invasion. 
   A spy of General Geary's, disguised as an old planter, was sent ahead of the army, 
rode to the bridge and engaged these workmen in a conversation about the invasion, 
hoping that the Confederates would be successful, and the Yankees badly beaten. 
During the conversation he looked around and said to these men. "See, there the 
Yankees are coming. Let us flee out this way." They all took his advice and were 
captured. This was all planned before he started away from headquarters. The prisoners 
were then taken back to where General Geary was and he seeing them said, "What is 
that old man doing in there?" and ordered him out. He was taken to the rear, his 
disguise removed, and he came up on another horse and conversed with the old 
Confederates with whom he had been captured. Those of us who knew this spy could 
scarce believe that he was the same person. Eighty Johnnie rebs were in this bridge gang 
and all were made prisoners.
   April 30th. We are again on the move, traveling on the old plank road leading to 
Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg. We skirmished along this road until we reached 
what was to be one of the greatest battle fields of the war. As we were advancing the 
skirmish line the Confederates opened on us with artillery. This was our initiation and 
introduction to rebel shell. The skirmishers captured about 200 rebels, with a loss of 
only one man. Traveled 10 miles and encamped in sight of the Chancellor house. 
   May lst. Our line was advanced about two miles on the plank road in the direction of 
Fredericksburg. We halted in an open field where some one was burning charcoal. Here 
the boys divested themselves of all their surplus clothing and everything that would 
lighten their load. In the distance artillery and musketry could be distinctly heard. A 
few shells were thrown around us, and later in the day we were withdrawn to our 
former position near Chancellor house. Here we remained all night. 
   Saturday, May 2. We constructed breast works as best we could with the few 
implements we had. We lay behind these works until 7 o'clock in the evening, when 
down the plank road a charge was made upon us and after some very hard fighting the 
Confederates were compelled to withdraw. 
   Sergeant Simpson, of Company A, was killed, and Sergeant George W. Townsend, of 
Company G, was the first man wounded in our company. After this charge the 
skirmishers were again sent out. Samuel F. May, of Company G, had been detailed, and 
after being out on the skirmish line a little while he sent word in that it was impossible 
for him to keep awake, and he asked to be relieved. He was relieved, and the writer, 
knowing full well the dangers to be confronted, very unwillingly took May's place, to 
which he had been detailed. May who had been a member of the old 28th Regiment, 
and transferred to the 147th, was always twitting Company G as conscripts and 
cowards, and now, when he smelled the smoke of battle in the air, he was the first to 
show the white feather. 

CHAPTER XI
   After the charge had been repulsed, a Confederate, who had been badly wounded, lay 
on the plank road. At one time he would call for help, then he would pray, and again 
cursing the Yankees, would call for his parents.
   Captain Mackey, of Company C, who had command of the skirmishers, advanced the 
line until we could hear the Confederate officers cautioning their men to keep quiet. 
We finally reached the wounded rebel, and brought him in, and had him taken to the 
hospital. We found that a shell had torn all the flesh off his hips. Poor fellow; 
although an enemy, yet how horrible it made war appear to us. Some time during the 
night the skirmishers were withdrawn, and they joined their respective companies. 
About midnight we had a very heavy artillery duel lasting several hours. Stonewall 
Jackson was killed on Saturday night.
   Sunday morning, May 3rd, 1863. Fighting began this morning about 4 o'clock. 
Stonewall Jackson's troops attacked the 11th Corps commanded by General O. O. 
Howard, in front, and flank. Fighting was severe. The rebels slowly pushed our lines, 
until about 10 o'clock A. M., when there was a general route. The bullets came from 
front, flank and rear. The onslaught was fearful. Before the battle opened Colonel 
Pardee made a speech. He said that we were about to go into battle; that he knew the 
five old companies of the 28th regiment, who had been tried in the fire of battle 
before, would again prove true to their country, and their flag. As to the three new 
companies F, G and H, he hoped they would follow the example of the old companies. 
  We were in our breastworks when the battle opened. We gave "three cheers", and our 
color bearer, Sergeant Henry, of Company C, who had taken off his cap and cheered, 
was just replacing it when a rebel shell killed him. His head was shot away, and his 
brains were scattered over the old flag he had carried so long. Colonel Pardee, being 
close by picked up the colors, saying, "We will stick to the old flag to the last, and if 
we go to Richmond, we will all go together." The Colonel carried the flag until we were 
driven off the field.
   A braver soldier than Colonel Ario Pardee was hard to find, and I want to say right 
here that Company G followed our brave commander, thru all our battles to the close 
of the war. I know that all our regimental officers had implicit confidence in our 
company.
   As I said before, General Jackson attacked our front, right and rear, making it 
impossible for us to hold our breastworks. We finally abandoned them; moved to the 
left, only a short distance, when we were halted. Here we formed a line at right angles 
with our breastworks. Soon the order was given to forward. The regiment charged in 
grand style, driving the enemy out of our works, and after occupying them but a very 
short time, we were again driven out. Again we rallied, again we charged, drove the 
enemy out of our works, when a line of Confederates rose outside the breastworks, 
where we could see into their very eyes. To show the reader how close we were to the 
enemy, when this line of rebels arose, Mathias Fox, of Company H, a German, who had 
served thirteen years in the German cavalry service before coming to this country, 
reached out over the works, caught a Johnnie rebel by the hair, and pulled him over the 
works, telling him in German to throw down his gun and accoutrements. The rebel, not 
understanding what he said, and Fox not having any time to spare, gave him a kick on 
that part of the body that first comes in contact with a chair, and again motioning him 
to drop his gun and accoutrements, he needed no further persuasion, but hurriedly 
threw down the implements of war and became a prisoner.
   The Colonel, seeing this brave act, promoted Fox to Corporal, although he was 
unable to read or write a word of English. He was pretty well advanced in years, and on 
the march to Gettysburg, in June, he gave out, and was sent to the hospital and never 
returned to the regiment. Brave old fellow, we all admired him. 
   Corporal John R. Reigle was the first man on the right of the company. The writer 
was his file closer. Soon after the fighting began Reigle was shot thru the shoulder. He 
went to the rear and I took his place, and was after this at the right of the company 
until I was promoted to Sergeant.
   On our second charge as we again filed into our works, the right of the company ran 
down two rebels. The writer being at right of company, ordered them to surrender. 
This they did by divesting themselves of their guns and accoutrements. Captain Davis 
said to me: "Now, as you captured these men, you take them to the rear". I said, "No! 
Captain, I would rather not. Allow someone else to take them back". Corporal Eby then 
came up and told the Captain that he would take them to the rear, which he was told to 
do. Henry J. Doebler was by my side, and can verify the above.
 
CHAPTER XII
   We now fell back again to the plank road, formed in line, and were ordered to lie 
down, and we were only a few moments in this position until H. J. Doebler was 
wounded. Orderly Sergeant B. T. Parks told him to get up and run, and after a little 
while someone helped him off the field. Again we charged with only a few of our 
company present, owing to the breaking of our lines, by one of the Ohio regiments of 
our Brigade, which was driven by the Confederates. The last time we charged with only 
a remnant of our regiment, and we gained the ground on the right of our regimental 
line, when to our surprise the Johnnies almost surrounded us, except along left of line 
of battle, which afforded the only avenue by which to escape. Both Yankees and Rebels 
had empty guns, having fired them during the charges and unable to reload on the run. 
   The Rebels charged and we were followed closely and the writer never ran faster in 
his life, to escape being captured. A long legged Confederate yelled at me: "Halt, you 
Yankee son of a gun!" I replied in not very complimentary language. He at the same 
time had his bayonet on his gun and we were running at breakneck speed. He lunged at 
me with his gun. Just then I happened to look around and saw how close his bayonet 
was to me, and I want to tell you that on the battlefield at Chancellorsville there was 
one twenty-year-old boy that was nearly scared out of his boots. I know from that time 
on I put in my best licks to get out of reach of another lunge from that old 
Confederate. I often wished I had the record of the time I made. Do you know that 
made such an impression on me that since then whenever I hear any rattling in the rear, 
I feel like running away.
   Well, we are thankful we got away, even if it was by the skin of our teeth and we 
believe in the old adage that he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. We 
were driven thru the woods where the explosion of the shells had set fire to the leaves 
and brush and there many a poor fellow lay wounded, and being unable to get away, was 
burned to death. Had I been wounded by that confederate with his bayonet it would 
certainly have put me in a bad shape to make application for a pension.
   The loss in Company G during the battle of Chancellorsville. Va., May 1, 2 and 3, 
1863, was as follows: Killed, Franklin Knarr and Reuben Miller; wounded, Lieut. 
William H. Schroyer, Sergeant John R. Reigle, John Calvin Long, Henry J. Doebler; 
captured, Sergeant Fred H. Knight, Edward Fisher, Michael Schaffer, William McFall, 
and Elias Miller.
   The wounding of Lieutenant Schroyer was rather peculiar. He had his leg hurt while 
in camp at Dumphries and was compelled to use crutches a long while. The marching 
to Chancellorsville and the moving about during the battle caused his leg to give him a 
great deal of pain. The surgeon told him the battle was virtually over and directed him 
to go to the hospital. When a few hundred yards from the company a stray shell from a 
Rebel battery struck a horse which he was passing at the time and exploded, killing the 
horse and threw him on the Lieutenant. From these internal injuries he died on May 
15. 
   To describe a battlefield with all its horrors, especially a panic stricken army, is 
simply out of the question. You may read war history and look at battle illustrations 
until you grow gray but no one knows anything about it except those who participated 
and have learned by cruel experience.
   The writer saw men shot in every conceivable manner. A soldier next to me in above 
battle had an eye shot out. When struck he reached his hand to his face and said, "Well, 
the eye is gone." Raising his loaded gun to his shoulder he said, "Here's one more shot 
for the Union", and fired his piece at the enemy. Brave fellow, he was! A number of 
years after the war he was appointed superintendent or chief of police of Philadelphia, 
which position he held until his death. This brave fellow was Sergeant Harry M. 
Quirkof, of Company E, 147th Regiment. 
   Now the opposite kind. I saw another fellow (I will not mention his name for he is 
dead and gone), who at the exploding of a shell very near us left the ranks and ran like 
a deer down the plank road. Someone called to him to stop but he was not able to draw 
the brakes tight enough to come to a standstill. Finally, after the battle when he came 
back someone asked why did he run? He replied that he thought the Colonel had given 
the command to double quick. Yes, said the other, but you did not obey the command 
because you went out on a canter. Well, said he, I would not give three cents for my 
life. 
   We saw a teamster who had been to the front with ammunition, driven back with the 
troops who were demoralized and running to get away from the enemy. He had one eye 
shot out, his wagon was riddled with bullets, and himself covered with blood from head 
to foot, yet. Like the good soldier that he was, he stuck to his saddle, urging his team 
on with whip and lines, and yelling at the top of his voice, “Git up! Git up!” They did 
git and as far as we know this brave driver saved himself and his team.
 
CHAPTER XIII
   The loss in our regiment was 125 men. The number engaged was 3,500. The entire 
loss of our army was 16,030. That of the Confederate Army was 12,581, making a 
total of 28,611. Three thousand were killed on the field, and many more died in 
hospitals from wounds. When the remnant of our regiment left the field, the ground 
we had occupied was covered with the dead of the enemy, and scattered over the field 
were the dead and dying of both armies. Can you, dear reader, imagine the horrors of 
this battlefield with its thousands of dead and dying? All of them had loved ones 
somewhere. Here they lay on this field without care or sympathy from any one about 
them. Later on I will tell about some who lay upon this field for many days before 
being removed. If these 28,000 were to march in procession it would at least take five 
or six hours to pass a given point, and these were the flower of our country, men who 
died to offer their lives for their country's flag.
   We were now taken back to where General Geary had assembled his old division, 
when Colonel Pardee arrived with only a remnant of his regiment, including a few men 
of Company G, General Geary came out to meet us and shook hands with Colonel 
Pardee, and welcomed us, for the General thought that the entire regiment had been 
captured. 
   On May 4th, Monday, a new line of works about one and a half miles from the 
battlefield-and about the same distance from the Rappahannock River, had now been 
erected and we were placed in these. There was very heavy cannonading in the direction 
of Fredericksburg and a heavy rain during the night. 
   May 5th, from 9 o'clock until noon, we were engaged in erecting or strengthening 
our entrenchments. Heavy rain, with the Rappahannock rising rapidly, and the army 
retreating, made it difficult.
   May 6th, Wednesday, the army retreated across the river at United States ford, 
crossing on a canvass pontoon bridge. The river was very high, and the cables by which 
the pontoons were anchored were cracking and snapping. The bridge was loaded so 
heavily that the boats almost dipped water, and every one was anxious to get to the 
northern side of the river. Had a cable snapped or a boat been punctured hundreds 
would have been drowned. Every precaution, however, was taken for the safety of the 
men. A man was placed in each boat for the purpose of watching so that nothing would 
strike or cut the canvas boats, and to dip out the water that was continually oozing 
thru the canvas. At last we were safely across and every one of us, I know, was much 
relieved. We marched to within a short distance of Harwood Church and encamped, 
traveling 13 miles. From the time we crossed to the south side of the Rappahannock at 
Kelley's Ford April 29th, until the evening of May 6th, not a drum or bugle had 
sounded a note. But when we reached this camp north of the river, the drum corps of 
the different regiments gave us martial music, and the bugles sounded forth their 
beautiful calls. Every soldier in camp cheered, and members of Company G, as usual, 
had their mouths wide open and did their full part. 
   May 7th, broke camp, crossed Potomac Creek, passed Stafford Court House, and got 
back into our old camp at Aqua Creek landing about 2 p. m., traveling 12 miles. 
   May 8th, I first learned, thru Lot Ulrich, of the sickness of brother William, in the 
division hospital, which was located four miles from our camp. I asked for a pass to 
visit the Lieutenant but this was not granted me as no passes were issued at this time. 
Lieutenant Nelson Byers, who had command of the Company, (Captain Davis being 
home on furlough) told me that if I would report every morning and evening that I 
might go, and that if I was needed in camp he would see that I was notified. From that 
time until May 15th, whenever I was off duty I stayed with brother and attended to his 
wants as best I could. I would attend roll call in the morning then walk four miles, stay 
with him all day, come back in the evening to attend roll call at 8:30, then go back to 
the hospital and stay until morning, when again I would go to camp. H. J. Doebler, 
who was also wounded at Chancellorsville, was only a few tents from where brother 
William was lying. My brother-in-law, John Crossgrove, then sheriff of Union county, 
was written to by the Lieutenant, telling him of his sickness. He came to Washington, 
got a pass and came to Aqua Creek and arrived there on the morning of May 15th, only 
a little while before brother died. Arrangements were made for having the body 
embalmed and sent home to Selinsgrove for burial. 

CHAPTER XIV
   The hospital was about one mile inland from the Potomac River and we could see 
down to the steamboat landing. I told Mr. Crossgrove that I would not be allowed to 
accompany him to the landing without a pass. I went to the Officer-of-the-day, who 
had charge of the hospital camp, and told him my circumstances. He said that he was 
not permitted to issue any passes. I then went to Dr. Earnest Goodman, our division 
Surgeon, and he told me the same as the Officer-of-the-day. 
   General Geary's headquarters were some distance away. I went to headquarters and 
the guard directed me to the General. I told him that I would like to go with my 
brother-in-law, who was taking home the body of my brother for burial, and asked him 
to please give me a pass to go to the landing. To my surprise, in the gruffest way 
possible, he said, "No, I have no right to give you a pass." I then told him where I 
belonged, the company and regiment, but to no avail, and I started to go away 
heartbroken. 
   One of his staff officers, Major Forbes, then jumped up and spoke to the General. 
They had their backs turned toward me but I knew that the Major was interceding for 
me.
   The General then called me back and said: "The Major will give you a pass, but I 
don't want you to desert." I said, "General, if you desire it, I will report to you after the 
boat has gone." He said, "When the boat has left you report to your regiment." I went 
to the wharf and was hardly seated until a guard asked for our passes. Mr. Crossgrove 
had received his official pass at Washington which was all right. I showed him my pass 
from General Geary and the guard said it was no good and that I must leave the wharf.
   Of course, I could not censure him for he had his instructions and was acting 
accordingly. I gave my brother-in-law good-bye and started away, sad and lonely, 
because just four months before I had lost brother Lewis at Dumphries, and next the 
Lieutenant, brother William, until now of the three brothers who enlisted I was left 
alone.
   As I was leaving the wharf and going in the direction of the camp, I met a Lieutenant 
who was in charge of the guards. He stopped me and asked what was the matter. I told 
him my story and he said he could hardly believe that men could be so harsh and so 
unsympathetic. "You go with me. I'll see that you get a place until the boat leaves," he 
said, and he did. "The only thing," said he, "that I ask of you is that immediately after 
the boat has gone you leave the wharf." Thanking him over and over again I started to 
camp. The treatment of General Geary I never could forget, and when he was a 
candidate for Governor of Pennsylvania, altho my old commander, I could not make up 
my mind to vote for him. 
   While making my trips to and from camp to the hospital, I had to pass the smallpox 
hospital. One day I saw a soldier standing in his tent door and he beckoned to me. I 
went over to him and asked what he wanted, when he asked me whether I would please 
fill his canteen with water. I said certainly I will. Let me have your canteen. He gave it 
to me; I filled it, returned and gave it to him. He was the only person I ever saw with 
smallpox. He thanked me very much, and said that when he was home he had the best 
of care and attention when sick and could have anything his heart desired. But now the 
surgeons would come in the morning and prescribe for him and if he needed anything 
during the balance of the time he would have to get it himself. If I knew at that time 
who he was and where he belonged, the lapse of 48 years has entirely obliterated from 
my mind his name and regiment.
   A night or two before brother died the ambulance train came to the hospital loaded 
with wounded men who were brought from Chancellorsville and who had been lying on 
the battlefield for 11 days. They were brought on these ambulances about 28 miles, 
over rough roads. The hospital attendants had lanterns and the wounded were hauled 
about camp until a place could be given them. The wagons would sometimes strike a 
stone, run over a tree stump, and the poor fellow within would cry, curse and pray. Oh, 
such heart rending scenes.

CHAPTER XV
   In the morning the surgeons asked whether I would help dress some of the wounds. I 
said certainly. One poor fellow, a large, stout looking man, was shot thru the calf of 
the leg. You may imagine what such a wound meant in the heat of summer.
   A soldier belonging to one of the Massachusetts regiments had his right arm terribly 
mangled. The doctors held a short consultation and determined to amputate his arm, 
but Massy, as the doctors called him, said no. The doctors asked, what do you want us 
to do? Massy said, "This is the only right arm I will ever have and I am going to keep 
it." They told him that unless it was amputated he must die. Massy said, "All right. In 
that case the arm goes with me, there can't be a separation." He then directed the 
attendants to get a cracker box lid, and proceeded to direct the surgeons what to do. 
They did as he directed but handled his arm rather roughly, and he immediately told 
them that he wanted to be treated as a man should be treated and not as a dog.
   Now, said he, put my arm on this board. Then he began pointing to and naming the 
broken bones, giving the correct medical terms, and ordered each into its proper place. 
One of the doctors asked, "Did you ever read medicine?" Massy replied, "That's none 
of your business. Go ahead with your work." It was a painful job but he saw it thru, 
and just as the doctors finished their work, poor Massy fell over in a dead faint and it 
was quite a while before he was revived. Next morning when the doctor came, he asked. 
"Well, Massy, how are you this morning?" "Well, sir," said Massy, "I feel as if I could 
knock down any son of a gun of a doctor with my right arm that would attempt to take 
it on." I went to camp that day and never heard further from either of these wounded 
men.
   While in this camp we did quite a good deal of drilling, preparing for another 
campaign, and doing guard duty about Aqua Creek Landing, along the Aqua Creek and 
Falmouth railroad. Here we had quite a distance to go and were usually put on picket 
duty for three successive days. Fortifications were being built all along the Potomac 
River from the Rappahannock to Harper's Ferry. General Hooker was anticipating a 
movement north by General Lee, but was in ignorance of Lee's intended move. 
Everything possible was being done for the improvement of the army of the Potomac.  
 A division drill was ordered while we lay in this camp, and General Geary's white star 
division of the 12th army corps, to which our regiment, the 147th, belonged and, as 
you all know Company G formed a large part of the regiment, was ordered out on drill. 
Brigadier General George S. Green was in command. Fourteen regiments numbering 
5,000 men composed the 2nd division. We were out in heavy marching order. This 
meant that we had all on our backs that we owned. The day was hot and everything dry 
and dusty. The drilling was done on Bell's Plain, a beautiful place and entirely adapted 
to such a drill.
   After double quicking back and forth quite a while we were nearly exhausted. General 
Green's daughter, who was a visitor in camp at this time, was sitting in a barouche and 
enjoying the movements of the troops. She said to the General: "Papa make them trot 
again. I like to see them trot." I will not attempt to tell you what the boys said, but 
their remarks were equal to the time, the place, and the occasion. After that incident 
whenever the old General would pass us, someone would yell, "Papa make 'em trot 
again, I like to see 'em trot."
   Many darkies had gathered in camp. At night they would sing their old plantation 
songs, and I am sure every member of Company G enjoyed them. One night they 
assembled in a large tent and continued their singing and carousing until after 
midnight. The Colonel being kept from sleep, came out to see what was the trouble. 
Just at this time the darkies were in the midst of their jollification. A number of 
Company G boys gathered around the tent and at a given signal cut the ropes and the 
tent fell upon them. The screaming of the ladies of color and the noise made by the 
young and old bucks awakened everybody in camp. Of course, all were anxious to know 
the cause. The Colonel was out of humor and not appreciating the joke, placed a 
number under guard. I would like to tell of some real funny things that took place that 
night but there are some things that happened which are company secrets and are only 
told within the inner circle. However, if you would whisper softly into Ed Fisher's left 
ear be might give you a little history of that night's doings.
 
CHAPTER XVI
   On June 4th, William McKee, and William Gruver were members of Company A, 
46th Pennsylvania Regiment, Logan Guards, first defenders from Mifflin county. 
These boys were arrested for desertion, tried and sentenced to be shot.
   General Lee was now on his march of invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania. June 
13th, 1863. Many of Company G, the writer among them, had gone out in the 
morning to work upon fortifications, and felling trees. Government whiskey was 
furnished us in large camp kettles, which held about five gallons. Captain Krider, of 
Company F, who was in command of this detail, said that every man who drank water 
that day would be fined five dollars. The consequence was that when evening came all, 
with a very few exceptions and the writer was not one of the exceptions either, were 
drunk as drunk could be. We arrived at camp about six o'clock, had no time to get our 
suppers, but were ordered to pack up and fall in.
   We marched all night until noon next day, when we encamped at Dumphries near our 
old camp ground of the winter of 1862 and 1863. Traveled 25 miles. Many of the boys 
were so overcome-I think that's what they call it, when they drink to excess-that they 
had to be placed in an ambulance and hauled all night. The writer never spent a more 
miserable night during his army service, for I was so sick that I hardly knew how to get 
along. Several times during the night someone would come and say, "Schroyer, take a 
couple of swallows, it will help strengthen you and you will feel much better." At that 
time I was two months and a few days over 20 years of age, but I am very thankful that 
I then had the courage to say no, and I spelled it with a big N, and a big O. I told the 
boys it would be a long time before I would take another drink of whiskey and I have 
not touched a drop since then.
   Monday, June 5th, broke camp, crossed Occoquan Creek, passed Fairfax Court 
House. encamped about one mile from the town. Traveled 25 miles. Here we met 
Captain Roush's Company B, 6th Pennsylvania Reserves. In this Company were a 
number of Selinsgrove boys, among them John Emmitt. Jr., son of Esquire Emmitt, 
who administered the oath to Company G when we started for the seat of war.
   June 18th, broke camp, passed thru Dranesville, crossed Goose Creek and encamped 
about one mile from Leesburg. Traveled 14 miles. Leesburg is located in a beautiful 
valley about three miles from the Potomac River, and is in sight of the Balls Bluff 
battle field. Here General E. D. Baker was killed.
   Friday, June 19th, we were called upon to witness the execution of William Gruver 
and William McKee, whose arrest and trial I have already mentioned. These lads were 
from Lewistown, Pa., but we were ignorant of this at the time of execution. They were 
arrested June 4th for desertion to the enemy. They were tried and sentenced by General 
Court Martial to be shot to death by musketry. One other was shot for the same 
offense at the same time, but his name I am unable to give. The writer would be glad to 
learn the name of this unfortunate man. The names of Gruver and McKee were not 
known to us until many years after the war. All were members of the 1st Division 12th 
army corps.
   In this beautiful valley about one mile from Leesburg, Va., three graves were dug; a 
hollow square was formed by the troops; the guard or firing squad was placed in 
position. Then the ambulances came, each with a prisoner blindfolded, seated upon a 
rough box. When they arrived at the grave, the prisoners were taken from the 
ambulances, the rough boxes were placed beside the graves, and the lids placed thereon, 
upon which the men were seated. Short religious services were conducted by a chaplain, 
and then the Officer in command raised his handkerchief. The guard took aim and as 
he dropped his handkerchief, the squad fired. All three men fell dead into their rough 
boxes. Then all the troops were marched by the bodies of these unfortunate boys as an 
example and warning not to desert the cause to which they had sworn allegiance.
   As we look back over the past 48 years we feel that undue haste was given this trial. 
Think of it, arrested June 4th- executed June l9th, just 15 days from arrest to 
execution. A story comes to us that these two boys were about 17 years of age when 
they enlisted on September 21st, 1861, that they had been with their commands and 
participated in all the battles fought by the 46th Regiment, and that their reputations 
were first class as soldiers. These boys had frequently asked for furloughs but never 
received any and then they undertook to French leave it home, intending to return 
again, but before this could be done they were arrested. One of the boys after his arrest 
had written to his father, a Mr. Gruver, at Lewistown, and he hurriedly went to 
Washington to see President Lincoln, and he received a pardon for the boy. While the 
army marched to Leesburg on the west side of the Potomac, the father on horse back 
rode leisurely on the east side of the river until reaching Edward's Ferry, three miles 
from Leesburg. Here he crossed over and came to camp just about one hour after the 
boys had been shot. He had the pardon from President Lincoln in his pocket.
   I have in my possession a dairy written on the field at the time of the execution 
which says the boys were arrested while attempting to desert to the enemy.

CHAPTER XVII
   After the shooting of the deserters, we returned to camp and remained for seven 
days. During this time General Hooker was watching the movements of General Lee 
closely and had the Army of the Potomac so distributed along the Potomac River as to 
give the best protection possible to the City of Washington, should an attempt be 
made in that direction by General Lee.
   During our stay here we had our regular routine of camp duty. Picket duty was very 
severe, owing to the fact that a heavy line of pickets was required for the safety of the 
camp. We were placed about three miles from camp for three successive days.   On the 
26th of June the army was again in motion. Crossed the Potomac River on a pontoon 
bridge at Edwards Ferry. We now turned our backs upon old Virginia and entered the 
State of Maryland. We passed thru Poolsville and encamped at Monocacy Aqueduct at 
the mouth of the Monocacy River. Marched 12 miles. Hundreds upon hundreds of the 
soldiers went in bathing, and the sight was very amusing, for after a day's march thru 
the dust and the heat of the day this bath was both refreshing and necessary.
   When the army left camp at Leesburg, the writer, with a number of the members of 
Company G, whose names I have forgotten, was on picket three miles away, but we 
knew nothing about the army having moved until pretty late in the day, when we were 
relieved by the officer of the day and were compelled to march very hard to catch up to 
our company, which was in camp long before we arrived. The marching for us was very 
hard owing to the fact that the army wagon train occupied the road and we had to walk 
at the side as best we could.
   While on picket duty we noticed several fine shoats running at large beyond our line 
and although strict orders were given forbidding foraging, the desire for fresh pork 
became stronger with each longing look at the animals and then, of course, we feared 
being bitten by one of these porkers. A council of war was held and we decided, if 
possible to capture one of these shoats.   We were not allowed to do any shooting on 
the picket line, so we made up our minds to charge without guns. Outside of our lines 
was a creek with very steep banks, beyond which was an open field. This field was to be 
the battleground, and we started to surround the porker, which we had selected as the 
one best suited to our purpose and tastes. We formed a line of battle with the creek 
with its high banks on one side and the open field on the other, We got around this 
fellow in a sort of friendly way and drew in our lines closer and closer until Mr. Shoat 
began to cock his ears and wonder what was going to be done. Now, my dear reader, 
did you ever help to catch a live pig? If you did you may know something of the fun 
connected with it. Well, we charged and the pig charged. The first dive he made was for 
a fellow's legs, then you would see someone on his back with his feet in the air, but by 
sharp maneuvering we kept him between us and the steep bank and finally, when the pig 
and we were about played out, one of the boys picked up a stone, threw it, hit the pig 
back of the ear and knocked him over the high bank into the water. We jumped into 
the creek after him. Meanwhile the porker, being only slightly stunned, revived and you 
may well imagine the splashing until finally we got him on land and killed him.
   While skinning and getting him ready for use, we saw the officer-of-the-day 
approaching. We hurriedly threw our porker into the bushes, covered him with a few 
limbs, washed our hands, took our places and looked as innocent as if we had killed a 
sheep and when the officer-of-the-day arrived we were ready to receive and to salute 
and to report to him: "All's well at this post." After he left we had our pork steaks 
broiled in grand style, and we thought we never ate any pork that tasted any better.
   Saturday, June 27th, broke camp, crossed over the aqueduct at the mouth of the 
Monocacy River, crossed the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and canal at Point of 
Rocks. Marched on tow path to Catocton Station where we passed thru a tunnel or 
culvert under the canal. We marched beyond Petersville and encamped about two miles 
from town. Traveled 23 miles. While we were crossing the aqueduct, an officer on 
horseback, rather nicely dressed rode down to water his horse. He rode down to the 
stream where the wagons had forded and coming out had deep ruts in the mud. He 
threw his rein on the horse's neck and, in going into the water he got into a rut and 
down went the horse's head into the river and for a little while scarcely anything could 
be seen of either of them. The boys on the aqueduct yelled: "There he goes! Watch 
him! Hit him with a brick! Keep an eye on him." While the officer did not enjoy his 
unexpected dump into the river. I am sure the boys did.
 
CHAPTER XVIII
   Sunday, June 28th, struck tents and were again on the march. went back thru 
Petersville and thru the towns of Cherry Grove, Centreville and Jefferson and 
encamped about one mile from Frederick city. Traveled 12 miles. Here General 
Pleasonton, with the entire cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, passed us to go 
to the front. This was a grand sight.
   Our corps, the 12th, under General Slocum, was to march to Harper's Ferry, there to 
concentrate with General French, who had under his command 11,000 troops. Slocum 
was to be joined by this garrison and the united force under command of General 
Slocum was to threaten the Confederate rear by a movement toward Chambersburg, Pa. 
This plan of General Hooker's failed, because General Halleck, at Washington, did not 
approve of General Hooker's plan of abandoning Harper's Ferry. Finding himself 
deprived of that freedom of action on which, in so large a degree, the success of 
military operations depends, General Hooker requested, on the 27th of June, to be 
relieved from command of the Army of the Potomac. On the following morning a 
messenger reached Frederick from Washington with an order appointing General 
George G. Meade, commanding the fifth army corps, as Hooker's successor.
   Monday, June 29th, broke camp, passed thru Frederick City, Walkersville, 
Woodsboro, Ladiesburg, crossed Pipe's Creek, passed the towns of Marysville and 
Bruceville, and encamped about one mile from the last named town, having traveled 20 
miles. While passing thru Frederick we first learned that General Hooker had been 
relieved of command of the Army of the Potomac. While marching along rumors were 
afloat that General McClellan, the idol of the Army of the Potomac, was again recalled 
to take command. Cheer after cheer was given for Little Mack, as he was familiarly 
called. Every one seemed to look to him to lead the army on to victory. We learned 
later on of the appointment of General Meade. All knew of General Meade's sterling 
worth as a soldier and all had confidence in him as a leader.
   The entire army had concentrated at Frederick City and so far as we know General 
Hooker's plans were not changed in the least by General Meade. While passing thru 
Frederick many of the soldiers managed to get something to drink and of course many 
became unmanageable. We remember of an artilleryman who became so abusive against 
his officers that they were compelled to place a gag in his mouth and to lash him to the 
spare wheel (an extra wheel was carried on the rear portion of every caisson), placing 
him on the hub with his hands and feet tied to the outside of the wheel. There he sat in 
the hot sun, crazed with drink, cursing his officers until they had to tighten the gag, so 
that the blood ran down his chin. 
   Along the roadside we came across a goodly number of cherry trees which were 
loaded with the precious fruit and we ate many quarts in a very short time. While 
resting, some three or four ladies came along in a carriage, singing "Maryland, My 
Maryland." The boys cheered them all along the line as it certainly was inspiring to 
hear this song as we were nearing old Pennsylvania. A large, long-haired, yellow dog 
came to our company from one of the Maryland homes, became a pet and stayed with 
us on the march.     Tuesday, June 30th, broke camp, passed thru Taneytown and 
shortly came to a tree upon which was posted, "Line between Pennsylvania and 
Maryland." Just beyond the line in Pennsylvania, an old man stood at the gate in front 
of his large white house. Some one in Company G said, "Now we are in old Dutch 
Pennsylvania and I am going to ask the old man in German about the exact place of the 
line separating the two great States." When we got a little closer someone yelled out in 
Dutch, "Dauty, wu gade de line do dorrich?"    The old gentleman turned around and 
pointing to the chimney on his house replied in German, "Graude dorrich de mit fun 
seller shonshta."    Then we all yelled and gave three hearty cheers for our good old 
German Pennsylvania.
   Nearing Littlestown we received word that the Rebel cavalry occupied the town, when 
a courier was sent back for Knapp's battery of artillery, which was farther in the rear, 
and but a short time elapsed until we could see the battery coming at breakneck speed, 
and until they reached us their horses were white with foam. The battery halted but a 
few minutes, when the order for an advance was given. Here we expected a fight but the 
Confederates, hearing of our advance, retreated toward Hanover. As we passed thru 
Littlestown, the ladies came out and greeted us in true Pennsylvania style giving us 
water, cakes, pies and bread. Someone noticed a sign, "James Crouse, Druggist," as we 
passed thru town when someone in Company G proposed three cheers for Jimmie 
Crouse and three cheers were heartily given because he had his namesake living in old 
Selinsgrove. 

CHAPTER XIX
Gettysburg Campaign
   An old lady who was standing with her arms folded and was looking at us marching 
by said, "My grund, wu wella oll de lite schloffa de nocht? Gook wos un grosser 
schnopsock hut seller gla cal uff sime bookel. Orma drep, wos mere se dowera. De 
soldauda sin oll so hallich und ferlicht sin se oll dode bis morya."    And many other 
expressions of like nature.
   Littlestown was the only place since we left Harrisburg in the fall of 1862 in which 
we were recognized as friends, and this kind reception encouraged us wonderfully. We 
encamped near the   town having traveled 15 miles.
   Here the writer was detailed to fetch a box of cartridges from the ammunition train 
to the company. A box contained 1,000 rounds and weighed 100 pounds. He had quite 
a little distance to carry it, and after a march of 15 miles thru the heat and dust of the 
day I thought I would have to quit, but I rested often and finally got back to the 
regiment entirely tired out. This being the last of the month, we were mustered for 
pay, and after a night's rest we were ready for another day's march.
   July 1st. From this camp we returned to Littlestown, took Baltimore Pike and 
marched to Two Taverns, situated midway between Littlestown and Gettysburg, where 
we halted for dinner. In the afternoon we marched to Little Round Top, quite near the 
terminus of the trolley road and restaurant as it is today.  There we encamped for the 
night, traveled 12 miles.
   On our front in the ravine General Green was posting the pickets. The writer with a 
number of canteens was out searching for water and, it being moonlight, he saw a house 
in the distance for which he started. He passed General Green who asked, "Where are 
you going?"  I replied "Over to that house for water." The General said, "You get back, 
for if you go to that house for water, you will go to Richmond as the rebels are in that 
yard." 
I gladly took his advice and later found water back of Round Top. Very hard fighting 
today. General Reynolds killed. Loss heavy on both sides.
   July 2nd. We were relieved this morning by the Birdan Sharpshooters and taken past 
General Meade's headquarters to the kettle back of Culp's Hill on the right of our line. 
Here several pieces of Knapp's Battery were taken to the top of Culp's Hill and a 
number of Company G boys also went up but were soon ordered back by General 
Geary who was there posting the artillery.
   Soon after we came off the hill an artilleryman was brought back on a stretcher with 
his breastbone entirely torn away by a shell from a rebel battery. About dusk the enemy 
opened on us with artillery and musketry and were advancing their lines on our right 
with the intention of striking the Baltimore Pike upon which were our wagon trains. 
We received orders to move down the pike about one and a half miles to McAllister's 
Mill. We remained there until towards morning.
   July 3rd. Captain Davis was home on sick furlough and First Lieutenant Nelson 
Byers had command of the company. When we returned to our former position on 
Culp's Hill our brigade inspector came from General Geary's headquarters and said 
that they had a Rebel Brigade bagged and wanted the 147th to tie the string.
   Soon after daylight, probably 5 o'clock, the Rebels advanced to the stone wall on our 
direct front. We had thrown up temporary breastworks with rails on the ridge, after 
which, the Colonel, seeing the disadvantage to us in this position, ordered the regiment 
to advance into a narrow timbered ravine just in our front and somewhat lower than the 
breastworks. This move was our salvation, for when the Confederates advanced and saw 
the breastworks, they supposing we were there, directed their fire on said works, while 
we were shielded behind rocks and trees. When the order to fire was given by Colonel 
Pardee, the Rebel line of battle, which had advanced to within a short distance of our 
own hidden line, dropped almost out of sight. So severe was our fire that the writer 
saw five Confederates drop side by side, who had just touched elbows on this their last 
charge.
   The enemy with their famous Rebel yell made repeated charges upon our lines, but 
were as often swept back with fearful slaughter, our men holding their fire until the 
enemy was at close range and finally, broken and dispirited, the Rebels were driven 
from the field. Owing to the nature of the ground where our regiment stood, the 
enemy's fire passed, for most part, harmless over our heads, and consequently, the loss 
was small compared with that which we inflicted, and with the mortal nature of this 
wonderful battle. The loss in the regiment was five killed and sixteen wounded. 
Lieutenant Wm. H. Tourison, of Company E, was among the killed. In Company G 
only three were wounded. Corporal Harris Bower received a severe wound in the 
abdomen, Calvin E. Parks index finger of his right hand was shot off, while J. A. 
Lumbard received a slight scalp wound.

CHAPTER XX
   Many narrow escapes were made during this battle. James P. Ulrich's gun stock was 
shattered while he held it in his hand. After the last charge on the right of our line by 
the rebels about 10 o clock A. M., everything became very quiet. Both armies, nearly 
exhausted by the hard work of our marches and the three days battle, soon fell asleep. 
About 1:30 P. M. a signal gun was discharged; then a reply from the other side, after 
which was experienced one of the greatest artillery duels of the war.   About 300 
cannons belched forth death and destruction everywhere. The air was full of screeching 
and bursting shells. This was kept up for about one hour and a half. The very earth 
trembled during this time.
   While the artillery duel was in progress Picket's rebel division was getting ready for 
their famous charge. This charge lasted scarcely an hour, and during this time Picket's 
division was almost wiped off the face of the earth. This was the last charge made on 
the battlefield of Gettysburg. The battle closed about 3 P. M. The combat over and 
won, Gettysburg has gone into history as the greatest battle of modern times. General 
Slocum, with his head uncovered, rode along our lines soon after the enemy had been 
repulsed and said, "Boys, you did bully."  He was cheered by every regiment as he 
passed along.
   During the battle word was sent along the line that General McClellan was on his 
way from Carlisle with 20,000 militia. This certainly was inspiring news, but, as we 
found later, this was not correct. General Couch had command of these troops, but 
they were too late to take part in the battle. The official loss of both armies were as 
follows:

UNION
Killed ......... 2,834
Wounded ........13,709
Missing ........ 6,643

 Total .........23,186

CONFEDERATE
Killed ......... 3,500
Wounded ........14,500
Missing ........13,621

 Total .........31,621

Entire loss in both armies 54,807

  While the army received the plaudits of the people of the North, resolutions were 
passed by Congress, and the President sent a message of praise to the officers and men 
of the Army of the Potomac, for the great battle so nobly fought and won. This was all 
very nice, but what of the homes made desolate by the death of over 6,000 brave men, 
and over 28,000 poor wounded fellows, many of whom died, others eking out a 
miserable existence the balance of their lives? Can any form an idea of the vast amount 
of suffering in thousands of homes?
   A few little incidents that happened before during and after the battle. While in camp 
at Harrisburg before joining the regiment, John Mull, of Company G, received a 
furlough for a short time for the purpose of visiting his family, and while home he 
went out gunning and while so engaged the hammer of his gun accidentally caught a 
brush, exploded the cap and shot off the index finger on his right hand. On our way up 
the pike from Littlestown, on July 1st, Cal Parks and Mull got into a quarrel about 
some trivial matter, when Parks, who was a very rapid talker, said in Dutch, "Du 
daitshed besser hame ga un di finger opp sheesa."    Mull replied in his slow way, 
"Well, won ich miner opp gashosha hop sheesed du diner au opp,"    and sure enough, 
the first man wounded in the company was Cal Parks with his index finger of the right 
hand shot off at the same joint. When Parks was wounded Jere Moyer said: "Cal, you're 
wounded." Parks replied, "Tell me something I don't know," and started up the hill 
toward the hospital.
   The long haired yellow dog that followed the company from Maryland was with us 
all thru the Gettysburg battle and when a shell dropped near us and exploded, the dog, 
who had found a cool place under the rocks, would come forth and bark at the bursting 
shells. The dog stayed with us until our return march thru Maryland when he left us 
and we never saw anything of him again.   Sergeant Reuben A. Howeter, of Company 
H, who had been a theological student at Missionary Institute of Selinsgrove, was the 
first man the writer saw killed at Gettysburg. He was a fine fellow and beloved by all 
who knew him.
   Samuel May, who was a shyster and of whom I made mention in my Chancellorsville 
chapter, tried the same game of quit at Gettysburg. Someone close by the writer fired 
his musket off so close to my ear as to make it very uncomfortable. I turned and saw 
Sam May with a companion going up the hill as fast as he could In the rear of his 
company. I told Captain Byers, who was back of me at the time, about them going back. 
He used some pretty strong language and started after them right in the midst of the 
fight. When he got near them he commanded them to halt, which they did. They were 
at once ordered back to their company and Captain Byers told them in the presence of 
their company officer, Captain Mackey, that they had been making fun of Company G, 
calling the men cowards, conscripts, etc., and that now while Company G was standing 
like a rock these men were trying to run away. Byers further told their captain that if 
they attempted to get away again that he would turn the fire of Company G upon 
them. After this we never received any more taunts from them.

CHAPTER XXI
   J. A. Lumbard, if my memory serves me correctly, was the only member of the 
company detailed for skirmish duty during the battle. This certainly is always an 
unpleasant as well as a very dangerous duty to perform. After the repulse of the 
Confederates several of their battle flags were left upon the field directly in our front. 
Jere Moyer started to procure the one nearest to the company but the Colonel ordered 
him back. Jere was never satisfied that he was not allowed to get it. Some time after 
this a member of the Fifth Ohio regiment went out and brought it in.
   Some little distance on our left in front of the Seventh Ohio regiment of our brigade 
about 200 Confederates were coming in for the purpose of surrendering as prisoners, 
bearing flags or truce such as handkerchiefs, pieces of shelter tents, and whatever they 
were able to get. Assistant Adjt. General James M. Leigh, of General Ewell's staff, saw 
them, and riding among them, wanted them to return, when a company of the Fifth 
Ohio boys fired a volley at him, killing him and his horse instantly. The Confederates 
then came into our line and were made prisoners.   After the battle was over it was 
found that General Leigh's body was pierced with six bullets, and his horse was riddled 
with balls. It was also said that $85 in gold and a gold watch were taken from his 
pockets by some one of the Ohio boys. On the first day of July as we were marching up 
the Baltimore Pike towards the battle field we passed a lady, who was carrying a child 
and a little girl was running along side of her holding on to her mama's dress. All three 
were crying bitterly. The mother said the rebels had chased her and her children out of 
her home, but she hoped we would whip them and drive them off.
   Rebel General Archer's Brigade, including Archer with 800 men were captured in the 
first day's fight. They were brought back as prisoners. One among them had been 
wounded in the leg, but he was still a rampant Southern fire eater and said that the 
South would in the end conquer the North. Some of the boys of Company G had the 
pleasure of talking with him and found this Southerner to be M. M. Miller, from 
South Carolina, who, just before the war, was a student at Missionary Institute at 
Selinsgrove, but left the Institution and joined the rebel army. We never heard from 
him since.
   J. A. Lumbard and the writer walked out over the battle field on July 4th, where the 
dead were lying around by the hundreds. Seeing a rebel lying on his back with a blanket 
over his face Lumbard, of course, thinking him dead gave him a kick and said, "This 
fellow fell nice." To our great surprise the man threw the blanket off his face and said, 
"Please don't hurt me, I am badly wounded." and we walked away without even asking 
him whether we could do anything for him, or even so much as to offer him a drink of 
cold water. This has always been one of the saddest regrets of my life. We might excuse 
our actions by the fact that the feeling ran so high between the North and the South; 
that they were our enemies and ready to kill us at any opportunity; that we were mere 
boys only 20 years of age and knew but little of the ways of the world; but even 
granting the above excuses were true, yet how unkind and inhuman our treatment of 
this man.   On July 4th we had a great thunderstorm and very heavy rain. After the 
storm Samuel Jarrett made a fire to dry his clothes and shelter tent, when Henry 
Schreffler, of the company, came to this fire to boil a cup of coffee, and began stirring 
and scattering the fire. Jarrett said, "Ich will net hovva dos du my fire furdarbst, ich will 
my glater un my stzelt drickala, grick un noscht mit un hocka drau and habe di coffee 
ivver os fire. Ich du nix on der soch hut der Schreffler gasaut. Well mere wella sana, un 
we bulfer is dis omale op gonga, de cougla sin no de bame rum gafloga un de rin 
opgashloga ovver des hut nix ous gamocht. Grossa worta sin au rum gaflooga. Der 
Sammy hut der Schreffler om holtz firicked un gasaut by goonney 'des wor um Sammy 
si sprech wort' sell nem ich net au un hut der Schreffler wetter um daum gabacked un 
ene amole ains he sheesa wella we der Kankee Garmon si cop ous sime stzelt gapaked 
un hut gagrisha 'Go in Santy Anna.' Des hut der Sammy locha mocha, un graute hen se 
era druvel gasettled un de union un de konstitution warra witter safe."  
 
CHAPTER XXII
   On the third of July after repeated charges by the enemy upon our regiment, the 
ground in our immediate front was strewn with the dead and wounded. We noticed one 
wounded man sat up and reached for a gun. The supposition was that he intended to 
shoot someone of our officers. A few shots were fired at him, but none struck him and 
I think they were only fired to scare him. He loaded his gun, placed a cap on the tube, 
then placed the butt of the gun between his feet, placed the ramrod upon the trigger 
with one hand and held the muzzle under his chin with the other. He looked down to 
see that all was right, when he pushed the ramrod against the trigger and another poor 
soul was ushered into eternity. After the retreat of the rebels a number of the company 
went out to see this man and found he had been shot thru both hips, the ball having 
gone clear thru. Many rebel dead were buried on the afternoon of the fourth.
   On Sunday morning, July 5th, Samuel Jarrett, James W. Smith, and the writer were 
detailed to help bury the dead. Sergeant Wallace was permanently detailed on pioneer 
duty and he helped to dig the trenches. Jarrett, Smith and myself helped to gather up 
the dead and bring them to the trenches. We four, as my memory serves me, were the 
only ones of Company G who helped in this work. The woods were full of dead men 
and horses, some of whom had been killed on the evening of the second.
   On the night of the third, and on July fourth, very hot with heavy thunderstorms, 
and Sunday morning, the fifth, the sun came out bright and hot, and the stench from 
these dead was something fearful.
   While the trenches were being dug we gathered the corpses and the stench was so 
great that we were ordered not to carry any more until the pioneers had finished their 
work. Some of the pioneers got sick and had to quit. The trenches were dug about six 
and a half feet wide and about two and a half feet deep. We placed 42 in one trench and 
31 in another. The trenches were dug in the woods. A tree separated the two trenches.
   We gathered these dead, who lay in every conceivable position, from a very small 
portion of the field.
   In their last resting place they were placed side by side and two deep. Three men 
generally brought in a corpse, one at each arm or a stick was placed under their 
shoulders, and carried to the trenches. The third one would grasp the legs just above 
the ankle. In this manner we lifted the corpse, when the head would drop back almost 
dragging on the ground, while the blood oozed from mouth ears and nose. Nearly all 
the dead had turned black. It was said that whiskey had been given the rebel soldiers 
before going into battle and that was the cause of their turning black. Oh! the horrible 
sight! Can you imagine it? These poor fellows, middle-aged, young men, and boys, fine 
looking, and to sacrifice their lives for so unworthy a cause and one which they thought 
was right. As I write these lines it makes my heart feel sad to think of war's destruction. 
Would you believe it, every one of these unfortunates as they lay there dead, had been 
visited by the battlefield thieves and every one was searched and their pockets rifled. 
We helped carry a very large man. He had been killed and lay in a pool of water when 
we placed the sticks under him and started for the trench. In stepping over a mud 
puddle the stick broke and he fell into the water and such a time as we had in getting 
him out.
   A captain of the pioneer corps cut the bark off the tree and then asked, how many are 
in the trenches? The answer was 73. Just then a member of the Fifth Ohio regiment of 
our brigade, came in with a bare foot (the leg of some Confederated had been shot off 
just above the ankle.) A sharpened stick had been stuck into the foot and he carried it 
on his shoulder in this way to the trenches. He said to the captain, how many in this 
trench? The captain replied 73. The other said make it 73 and one foot. This story, (as 
well as the one about the rebel shooting himself) are still told by the battlefield guides.
   People from all sections of the country came on horseback, afoot and in carriages to 
visit the battlefield. Hundreds had gathered and while they were watching the burial of 
the dead a number of the army boys gathered up guns, loaded them and then fired a 
volley, at the same time yelling that the rebels were coming, and in a very few minutes 
the place was entirely cleared of citizens. These dead men were far away from their 
homes and loved ones and were buried like brutes without any religious services of any 
kind. After the war these bodies were disinterred and taken to Richmond, Va., and 
buried in the Confederate cemetery.

CHAPTER XXIII
   While lying in camp here the writer went to town to have a few cakes baked. We soon 
found a place where a lady was doing some baking for the soldiers. We asked her 
whether she would bake us some cakes. She seemed to be delighted to have the 
privilege, and said to us that we should make a chair until the cakes were baked. And we 
certainly were delighted to wait until they were baked. But while waiting for the cakes 
an order came in and in a very stern and commanding way asked the lady if he could 
have some cakes? She answered: "Yes, as soon as this soldier is served I will bake some 
for you." The officer said: "Let him wait. I am an officer, serve me first." This the lady 
resented, and said: "No, he shall be served first, then you shall have your cakes."   
When the cakes were baked she very nicely handed them to me. I thanked her very 
kindly for them. The officer was not pleased at all, but notwithstanding he had to wait 
to be served until after I had received my cakes. I always had a kind feeling for this 
young lady, and often wished I knew her name.
   We had in our company a soldier by the name of William Henry Harrison Shiffer; 
for short we called him Bawley. Bawley was a fiery red headed fellow; his face and hands 
full of red spots. Well, Bawley was away from camp for a day or two, having been lost. 
On seeing him coming back to the company, Jim Smith said: "Why do kumt yo der 
Bawley, dar wor fur shure furlora, gook usht amohl we rushtic dos ar is,"    This did 
not suit Bawley very well and he expressed himself by using some very strong language 
such as is not found in Sunday school books.
   About 10:30 a. m. we were relieved from our sickening duties of burying the dead 
and the order to march was given. We traveled down the Baltimore pike to Littlestown 
and encamped near the town. Marched 10 miles.
   We remained in this camp until the morning of the seventh, Tuesday, when we struck 
tents, marched back into Maryland, passed thru Taneytown, Woodsboro, Middleburg, 
and Walkersville, and encamped near the latter place. Marched 28 miles.
   Wednesday, July 8th. Broke camp, passed thru Walkersville, Frederick City, and 
Jefferson, and encamped about one and a fourth mile from the latter place, traveling 15 
miles. This was a hard day on all of us, because of the very heavy rain all day, which 
made the pike like mortar. Here we first heard of the surrender of General Pimberton 
to General Grant at Vicksburg, Miss. We were drenched to the skin and almost 
exhausted by our hard marches and fighting and the extreme hot weather, so that when 
we arrived at Frederick and General Geary read the dispatch to us not a single cheer 
was given. We felt at this time like SOLLY APP, who said, in the droll way on one of 
our heavy marches and when we were nearly played out: "Ich fecht fur de Union, ovver 
de naighst mog tsum divel ga."  
   A bright, jovial and good looking young man had come to our camp after the 
Chancellorsville campaign, his name was Richardson, and hailed from Howard county, 
Md., and became our newsboy. He rode a horse and the papers he sold were unfolded 
and spread over the horse's back from which he distributed them throughout the camp 
at five cents each, and Company G bought many a paper from him. We all liked him. 
He continued with us on our Gettysburg campaign, making his headquarters with the 
army wagon train. While the army marched to Gettysburg the wagon train was sent to 
Westminster, Md., about 40 miles away. When the battle was over the train was sent in 
advance of the army to Frederick City. While there this young man was suspicioned by 
General Kilpatrick of being a rebel spy.
   He was arrested and found guilty, he having at the time of his arrest a complete map 
of the defenses of Baltimore and Washington. It was said that when these papers were 
found on his person and when confronted with the other strong evidence, which was 
brought against him, that he made a full confession and said that he had been in 
communication with the rebel cavalry and had he not been arrested for one hour more 
our entire wagon train would have been destroyed by the rebel cavalry. As a result of 
information given he was immediately ordered to be hanged just west of the city and 
left hanging for three days. The whole army, which had been concentrated at Frederick, 
was marched by this rebel spy.
   We saw him on the second day after he was hanged. He was entirely nude, his eyes 
protruded from their sockets and were wide open, the veins over his body were much 
swollen, in short, it was a horrible sight to behold. A poor, misguided, intelligent 
young man, who offered up his young life without honor to himself, his family or his 
country.

CHAPTER XXIV
   Thursday, July 9th, we broke camp, passed thru Burgetsville and encamped near 
Rohersville, traveling 10 miles.
   Friday, July 10th. Struck tents, marched thru Rohersville, Keedyville, and encamped 
about a half mile from Bakersville. Marched seven miles.
   Saturday, July 11th, broke camp, passed thru Bakersville and Fairplay. When we 
entered the town of Fairplay a Rebel flag, which the citizens had raised on a pole, was 
floating in the breeze. Only a short time elapsed until this was lowered and Old Glory 
took its place. At this place we found a spring of water such as we had never seen 
before. The water was of the best, and gushed forth in a great volume. Just below the 
spring a large grist mill was run by its water power. The boys made good use of the 
water while in this vicinity.
   At this place we expected a battle. The rebels were in sight, but orders were given that 
not a shot should be fired. Our entire regiment was placed upon the skirmish line, in 
open fields during the extreme heat of the day. On the 8th, just three days before this, 
we entered Frederick City, we were almost drowned by the heavy rains, today almost 
burned up by the scorching rays of a July sun.
   John Reed managed to get away from the company and bought a pie from a lady and 
he was coming toward the company when the Colonel rode up to him, gave him a few 
cuts over the knapsack with his riding whip, reprimanding him, and telling him that he 
wanted him to remain with his company. But John, like the good soldier that he was, 
held on to his pie, and made good use of it later on.
   During the day some rebels drove off 10 or 12 head of cattle within gunshot of us, 
but we were not allowed to shoot. This was galling to us, but the orders had to be 
obeyed. We remained here during the night, marched only two miles.
   Sunday, July 12th, everything quiet in camp all day.
   Monday, July 13th, a line of breastworks was thrown up about one mile from 
Fairplay. Large fields of grain had been harvested and stood on shock. The fences 
surrounding beautiful fields were torn down, a sort of cribbing made with the rails, 
then the grain that was standing on shock, gathered and placed in the cribbing, and 
ground thrown on the grain which made us a real good breastwork. In our regimental 
front was a large field of grain, and when ordered to use it, for breastworks, it took 
only a little while until every sheaf had been gathered. We now felt pretty secure should 
we be attacked.
   Tuesday, July 14th, remained all day in our breastworks.
   Wednesday. July 15th, The expected did not happen, and we left our breastworks 
without a battle. We discovered that the rebels were retreating and nearly the entire 
rebel army was now south of the Potomac River. We left our breastworks, passed thru 
Fairplay, Bakersville, and Sharpsburg, marched over the Antietam Battlefield, passed 
Antietam iron works, crossed Antietam Creek, and encamped near Maryland Heights, 
on the Potomac. Traveled 17 miles.
   Thursday, July 16th, broke camp, passed thru Sandy Hook and encamped about a 
half mile from town. Marched three miles.
   Friday and Saturday, July 17th and 18th. Remained in camp. While in this camp 
Lieutenant B. T. Parks was hit on the calf of his leg by a spent minnie ball, and while 
the ball did not penetrate the skin yet it was very painful. This was only the beginning 
of the Lieutenant's troubles, which we will relate further on.
   Sunday, July l9th, struck tents, marched thru Sandy Hook, Maryland, crossed the 
Potomac River on a pontoon bridge at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, passed thru the 
town, crossed the Shenandoah River near the town on a wire bridge, encamping near 
Hillsboro old Virginia, traveled 12 miles. We marched in three States today: Maryland, 
West Virginia and old Virginia. When we entered Harper's Ferry, the boys soon 
smelled in the air that a bakery was not far off. By a little maneuvering it was found 
that a large bakery was close by us. This place was enclosed by a high board fence, but 
unfortunately the proprietor left the gate open.     The baker, seeing trouble ahead, 
rushed off for a guard from the troops, who were stationed there, but before he 
returned a charge was made upon the bake ovens and the hot pies were taken out of the 
oven, and such a time for a little while, it was amusing. Someone would grab a hot pie 
(these pies were made out of what the Snyder county Dutch would say dried apple 
snits). He would soon find out that it was too hot to hold, or someone would snatch it 
out of his hand. Finally the pies were so far back in the oven that some venturesome 
fellow would get near the opening of the oven and reach back and get out the red-hot 
pies. Soon they became reckless and pushed one of the soldiers into the oven. When he 
yelled like a Comanche Indian, they pulled him out and the others all took warning and 
kept away. When the baker arrived with his guard all looked as innocent as little lambs, 
but the baker's pies had disappeared.

CHAPTER XXV
   Monday, July 20th, broke camp, marched to Snickersville and pitched our tents, 
marched 10 miles. We remained in this camp July 21 and 22.
   Thursday, July 23rd, broke camp, passed thru Snickersville, Upperville, and Paris. 
Marched until one o'clock at night and encamped, traveling 25 miles.
   Friday, July 24th. We left camp this morning, passed thru Markham, also the Rebel 
General Ashby's beautiful Southern home. The General had been killed in one of the 
engagements in Western Virginia. We were marching toward Manasses Gap when we 
counter-marched, came to Markham, passed General Ashby's home and encamped near 
Peidmont. Traveled 15 miles.
   At Snickersville some of the boys went out on a hillside field to get a few 
blackberries. While walking along in the bushes, they spied a Johnnie Reb, also eating 
berries. They ordered him to surrender, which he did. But he said he had been in the 
Gettysburg campaign and as the Confederate army was going south and marching so close to his home he thought he would go and see his old mother. He said, "Just in 
yonder house she lives. Had I not stopped to eat blackberries I could have seen her, but 
now I am a prisoner and must go with my captors." Such keen disappointment as this 
is the cruel price of war.
   General Ashby's home was one of the finest we saw in all Virginia. The house stood 
on an elevation with a lawn of several acres surrounding it. The soldiers thought that 
home might be a good place from which to get something to eat. Quite a number of us 
managed to get into the lawn, when five large, full grown blood hounds came dashing 
for us, and just then we believed we would have been just as safe in the midst of a 
battle as on General Ashby's lawn without a gun. But each of us had his rifle loaded and 
when those dogs came near enough we fired and five dead blood hounds lay before us. 
Whether or not these dogs were purposely set upon us we had no way of finding out, 
but we claimed the advantage of the doubt and acted accordingly. Plenty of edibles were 
taken but nothing was maliciously destroyed.
   Today we passed over the battlefield where General Pleasenton whipped the rebel 
cavalry previous to the battle of Gettysburg, and while resting, one of Company C's 
boys went to a stone fence to light his pipe, Powder had been spilled here during the 
fight and when he lighted his pipe he carelessly threw down his match, which ignited 
the powder, seriously burning him. The surgeon applied some remedy to his face, 
which turned it as black as a negro's. He was placed in an ambulance and sent to the 
rear.
   Some troops just ahead of us got into a little fight and captured an entire rebel 
battery. These men were brought in under heavy guard, each batteryman occupying his 
accustomed place. Some were sitting on caissons, while others were riding their horses. 
We were highly pleased to have them come in this way and only wished that all the rest 
might come in the same way.
   Saturday July 25th, broke camp, passed thru Rectortown, and encamped in 
Thoroughfare Gap, traveling 15 miles. On this march we were commanded to carry a 
full canteen of water owing to the scarcity in the gap, but we found full and plenty of 
the best.   Sunday, July 26th, broke camp, passed thru Thoroughfare Gap, Greenwich 
and Catletts Station on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. Went into camp near 
Warrenton Junction. Marched 25 miles. Today we passed over what is called the White 
Plains, which was the poorest section of country we met with in Virginia. We had been 
again commanded to fill our canteens as water was very scarce, but because we had 
received the same order the day before and had found water in abundance of the best 
quality, we did not obey the command, and tent day we got into a country that was 
about dried up and our canteens were empty. The town of Greenwich used nothing but 
cistern water gathered from tar roofs, which was not fit to drink, and all along by 
Catlett's Station and Warrenton Junction we could scarcely get water enough to quench 
our thirst. The heat was intense and everything dry and dusty. We scoured the country 
far and near to find water locating her and there a small spring or run and these were 
soon dipped dry by the hundreds of thirsty boys. We remained in this camp until July 
31st.
 
CHAPTER XXVI
   While here Captain Davis, who had been home on sick furlough, returned to us and 
we were all glad to have him with us again. He brought many messages for the boys 
from their loved ones back in old Selinsgrove, and many were the questions asked him 
concerning the old folks at home.
   July 26, Lieutenant Nelson Byers left us to go to Philadelphia for the purpose of 
getting recruits for our regiment, which at this time numbered less than three hundred 
men. In the yard at General Slocum's headquarters was a fine well, around which a 
guard was placed and no one was allowed to get any water except for use at 
headquarters. The house occupied by Slocum had evidently been used as a hospital 
during a battle some time before.
   A few days after headquarters had been established (the well was a draw well) the 
bucket had been let down for water and to the surprise of the drawer part of a man's leg 
which had been amputated in the hospital and thrown down the well, was in the bucket. 
This, it was said, was the cause of the removal of our camp next day, and the boys were 
all happy that they had not been allowed to get any water from the moss covered 
bucket that hung in the well."
   The first evening we encamped here a goodly number of the boys gathered brass 
carbine cartridges (a cavalry battle had been fought here and the ground was strewn 
with cartridges) and these were placed upon the railroad track which ran thru camp for 
quite a distance. After dark some time a freight train came up from Alexandria and 
when the wheels of the engine struck these cartridges they exploded and made quite a 
racket. The engineer thought he had run into a Rebel camp and was being fired upon, 
stopped, reversed his engine and ran his train back a few miles to Catlett's Station. 
There he learned the truth of the situation and brought his train back again. The boys 
who did this work were soon scattered by the guards, and each one skedaddled to his 
respective company. Lewis Millhoff of Company G, was the only one captured. Of 
course the only guilty one, he was placed under guard at General Geary's headquarters 
during the night and released in the morning.
   Saturday, July 31st, struck tents, passed Warrenton Junction, crossed Cedar Creek, 
and went into camp on the north bank of the Rappahannock River only a short 
distance from Kelly's Ford. where we had crossed while on our Chancellorsville 
campaign just about three months before. Marched 20 miles.
   Orders were given to erect our tents and we, of course, expected to remain all night 
and have a much needed night's rest after a hard day's march. After dark some time, 
orders were sent around by General Geary to strike tents and pack up quietly, and soon 
we were marched down to the river where the pontoon train was ready with their canvas 
boats. Several boats were pushed off into the river and loaded with men, the writer and 
several of the company among them, and hurriedly departed for the southern shore. As 
soon as we landed the boats returned for more men. Those that had already crossed 
formed a skirmish line in the shape of a half moon, with flanks resting on the river, 
and as each detachment was landed, this skirmish line was extended. Under this guard 
the bridge was completed in a very short time and the troops began crossing. However, 
before the bridge was quite finished the Rebel cavalry pickets discovered that the 
Yankees had played a trick on them, by pretending to go into camp and then in the 
stillness of the night, when all of us had lain down for a good night's rest, we had been 
roused out of our slumber and taken across the river before they discovered the move.
   The Rebel cavalry of course advanced. Our skirmishers kept quiet and got down into 
the high grass and when the cavalry was near enough our line fired into them and their 
surprise was so complete that they about faced and skedaddled. By daylight our whole 
corps was again south of the Rappahannock. Our entire regiment was placed on the 
skirmish line during Sunday, August 1st.
   In the evening we again re-crossed at Kelly's Ford on the pontoon bridge and 
encamped for the night. At the Battle of Gettysburg, George D. Griggs, (nicknamed 
Colonel) unnecessarily exposed himself to the enemy, but when we got to the 
Rappahannock River he was very despondent, and seemed to have a dread of crossing 
the river. He had a premonition that if he crossed to the south side he would never get 
back alive. When we did get back Jake Garman (nicknamed Yankee) tapped Griggs on 
the shoulder and said, "Colonel, you ain't dead yet." Strange, but he soon became the 
same Colonel Griggs and as jolly as ever.

CHAPTER XXVII
   Monday, August 2nd. Struck tents and marched down the Rappahannock River to 
near Ellis' Ford, where we encamped. This was one of the hottest days we experienced 
on our Gettysburg campaign. Traveled four miles. If my memory serves me right eight 
soldiers of our division were sun struck that afternoon. Today our Gettysburg 
campaign closed. We left Aquia Creek on June 13th, marched north along the Potomac 
River, crossed over into Maryland at Edward's Ferry, thru the State into Pennsylvania, 
fought the battle of Gettysburg, and returned, passing thru Maryland, West Virginia 
and Old Virginia, and now in camp only 20 miles from where we started.
   This campaign was made during the heat of the summer, and the distance traveled 
was 391 miles. The actual marching days were 27, making an average march of 14 ½, 
miles a day. I would have you remember that we did not wear nice cool shirts, neither 
white linen trousers, nor linen dusters, neither were we furnished with white gloves, 
fans or umbrellas, but on the contrary we wore woolen socks at 32 cents per pair; 
woolen shirts, $1.50 each; shoes, $2.05 per pair; a forage cap, 60 cents; a pair of 
trousers, 95 cents, and a woolen blouse at $3.12. Entire cost of outfit, $11.04. On the 
march we were not permitted (no matter how hot the weather was) to take off our 
coats, but had to have them buttoned up to the neck. Such clothing was all right for 
winter, but for summer they were regular sweat boxes.
   The Government officials did not seem to concern themselves about the boys who 
were doing the work. While in this camp, four regiments of our brigade, the fifth, 
seventh, 29th, and 66th Ohio were sent to New York City for the purpose of quelling 
the great draft riots of 1863. The above named regiments were taken to Long Island, 
but their services were not required, and in a short time they were again sent back to 
us. After the New York riots, many of these rioters (roughs and toughs) enlisted to 
escape arrest and punishment. We received drafted men on the tenth of the month, who 
were attached to Company G. About 100 in all were brought to the regiment from 
Philadelphia by Captain Moore, of Company B, and Lieutenant Byers, of our company. 
The names of those assigned to our company were Henry Brown, Charles Grant, 
Francis Smith, and Edward Reed Smith. These four were first-class soldiers and all 
remained with us until the close of the war, with the exception of Charles Grant, whom 
we nicknamed Jack. He was killed on the skirmish line at Kenesaw Mountain, Ga., June 
24, 1864.
   Charles Brown, Thomas Medbeater, Thomas McDonald, William Powell, and 
William Rayburn, these six were drafted August 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 1863 and all 
deserted on October 1st, same year. When these were brought to camp the ambulance 
which accompanied the squad carried a dead soldier who had taken sick on the way. 
Someone looked into the ambulance and saw him then remarked, there is no use to 
send us dead soldiers as we make them out here. The above remark shows that no 
regard whatever was paid to life.
   Our camp at this place was a dandy. Located at a beautiful place well laid out and I 
think the best for health of any thus far occupied. Not a member of our company was 
sick during our encampment at this place. Perhaps the extreme service we had on our 
Gettysburg campaign gave us new life and the rest which we now had we enjoyed to the 
fullest extent.
   While in this camp Freddie Ulrich returned to the company from the hospital. The 
boys saw him coming at a distance and having recognized him they saw that he was 
dressed up like a Philadelphia sport with a white collar, shoes shined, a silk necktie, 
and I don't remember whether he had his pantaloons pressed but as he came within 
hailing distance the boys began yelling at him, take off that necktie! Tear up that white 
collar! Philadelphia sport! Fifth and Buttonwood, Callowhill street! (These two latter 
places were hospitals in which Freddie has been since he was away from the company). 
While all were exceedingly glad to have him join us again and grasp him by the hand in 
the warmest kind of friendship yet we all felt like teasing him and I think we carried it 
out to perfection. In less than a week his pale face had disappeared and he looked as 
black and dirty as any of us.

CHAPTER XXVIII
  On a Sunday morning while in this camp a half dozen or more of us wandered out a 
little from camp and found a cultivated field of a few acres surrounded with woods. We 
noticed a large cherry tree along the edge of the woods with several large limbs 
extending over the field and a nice green plot of grass beneath its shade. Here we lay 
down and were talking about our past experiences as soldiers; about friends at home 
and almost everything else boys would naturally talk about, when the writer turned on 
his back and looking up, saw a large black snake lying on a limb just above us with 12 
or 15 inches of its head hanging over the limb and it appeared ready to jump down on 
us. We yelled Snake! And in less time than I could tell it we were from under that tree 
but we could see no snake. The top of the tree was broken off and was hollow. We 
drew sticks to see who should go to camp for an axe to cut down the tree. The one sent 
for the axe stayed too long for us so we discovered a pretty large hole near the bottom 
of the tree and decided that if we could find a