Again Colonel Pattee's voice rings out: "DEPLOY SKIRMISHERS!"

and in less than a minute a line of Bucktails stretches through the woods, facing the enemy. There is no waiting. "FORWARD!" pa.s.ses down the line, and we move out into the open field in front. A hundred yards ahead the cavalry are stubbornly facing a heavy force of rebel infantry that is crowding on them and steadily pushing them back. Now and then a man falls from his horse or rides back wounded. We were on lower ground than they, and the bullets whistled above us; but as we went up the rising ground, they began to hiss around our heads. We double-quicked forward and began firing.

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

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

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

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

"See that!" he added, his aim not in the least disturbed. The gunners were shooting over us, as we supposed, at the line of battle farther back. But we had only fired a few shots when a sh.e.l.l burst in front of us, its fragments scattering dirt, fence rails, and splinters for yards around.

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

After this had continued for some time, the One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, a Zouave regiment, came down behind us on a double-quick, deployed as skirmishers. As they neared the fence a sh.e.l.l from the battery screamed over our heads, and exploding, killed one of their men.

They heeded this no more than if it had not occurred, and came on with a cheer. Giving a parting shot to the battery which was now pulling out, we started on, bearing to the right toward the town. As we neared the point of the strip of woods on our right, Ginter, of Company E, stopped and sat down flat on the ground, remarking that it was getting mighty hot. I was of the same opinion, and halted a few feet in advance of him and fired a few shots in a kneeling posture. While thus engaged, I heard the sound of a blow behind me, and looking around, I saw Ginter tumbling on the ground, his heels in the air. He quickly gathered himself up to a sitting posture with a very rueful countenance, giving vent to his feelings in sundry expletives, as soon as he could get breath enough to deliver them properly. With many a doleful grunt he examined the extent of his injuries. A bullet had struck the belt of his cartridge-box, nearly over the heart. The ball had force enough almost to pierce the leather belt and severely bruise the chest, raising a lump half as large as a hen's egg, and very painful. Some fellow off to the left had reached for us, and well-nigh finished Ginter. He did not go to the rear, but kept on, holding his clothing from the painful bruise, too much engaged in this to do any more shooting.

A few minutes later, a rebel officer galloped along the line with a white flag. We were almost to the road at this time, at the outskirts of the town. We did not think of continuing the fight any longer, but some rebel soldiers on the left past the town, fired on us when we exposed ourselves, and we returned the treacherous fire, and advanced across the road. By the road, facing us as we approached, stood a negro cabin, out of which a rebel officer came as we reached it. A few words were exchanged between him and Adjutant Wright, and I think he was allowed to go down the road to where the main body of the rebel troops had halted.

Our fire continuing, Colonel Pattee rode up to us, excitedly, to learn what it meant. Adjutant Wright explained that rebel skirmishers were still firing at us.

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

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

At this moment a bullet whizzed past the colonel's head, and killed a cavalry man on the bank beyond him. He rode off to the right, and left us to manage it to suit ourselves. In a little while the firing from both sides ceased. The Army of the Potomac had accomplished its mission. We had fought our last battle. The One Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hundred and Ninety-first had proved themselves, to the last hour, worthy successors of the Pennsylvania Reserves.

The preceding narrative will be better understood by a fuller statement of the part taken by the entire regiment in the engagement. The original intention was for Colonel Pattee to connect the right of his command with the First Division and the left with the command of General Ord. On reaching the front, he discovered that the cavalry were hard pressed, and would soon be dislodged from the woods, which would have to be regained at great disadvantage, and perhaps serious loss. He, therefore, ordered the regiment forward to their relief. Advancing rapidly, they relieved the cavalry and engaged the enemy before the troops on either flank were in position. Colonel Pattee now found his skirmish line confronting heavy lines of battle, and back of these, on the ridge near the village, in position to sweep all the open ground in front, Lee's artillery was ma.s.sed. He at once thinned the exposed center and right of his line, strengthened the left, and charged boldly forward upon the enemy, throwing his left around upon their flank. Meantime the right pressed rapidly on, and engaged the rebel infantry in the open ground, and, later, the artillery on the ridge. Their infantry was routed, and driven back over the ridge, where their officers tried in vain to rally and lead them forward. Their artillery resisted with desperation until their commander was killed. By this time many of their horses had been shot, and they tried to drag the guns away by hand. But now the left of the regiment, under Colonel Pattee, came charging down on their right flank, bursting upon them like a tornado; and literally mingled together, almost fighting hand to hand, they went pell-mell toward the village. Here the flag of truce met them, and soon hostilities ceased.

Rarely has a more brilliant and successful attack been executed in modern warfare, and it reflects the highest credit upon Colonel Pattee and his command. Rebel officers who witnessed it spoke in the highest terms of the splendid and reckless courage with which this skirmish line dashed upon the heavy ma.s.ses of the enemy.

The death of the cavalryman, to which reference has been made, was a cause of great regret to all who witnessed it. He was a brave young man.

When relieved by the Bucktails, he might have retired from the field with honor, as did most of the command to which he belonged. He preferred, however, to remain. Falling in with Colonel Pattee, he fought by his side during all the engagement, charged with him in the last deadly onset, and escaped unharmed, to fall by the bullet of a cowardly truce-breaker.

Lieutenant Hayden, of the One Hundred and Ninety-first, a brave young officer, formerly of the Eleventh Reserves, lost a leg in this battle.

It seemed hard to suffer death or maiming in this, the last hour, let us hope, that the nation will know of civil strife; but let us honor the men who were thus faithful to the end.

CHAPTER XX.

Generals Grant, Meade, Ord, and others came down the road to the village. General Lee and his a.s.sociates came in the opposite direction.

They met at a house about two hundred yards from us, in full view of the place where we stood. Here the surrender was completed.

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

As soon as a few wagons came up with provisions, rations were issued to both armies; but there was not a sufficient supply. We remained on the skirmish line till the 10th, when we returned to the brigade. Several days of wet weather followed, and the wagon-trains could not be brought up. On the 15th we began the homeward march with empty haversacks.

We camped that night at Pamplin's Station. In the evening George Dunn stole a couple of the meanest, most diminutive, runty little hams you ever saw. I helped him eat them, and am willing to bear a fair share of the blame; but a country that can produce such hams needs reconstruction. On the 16th we reached Farmville. The next day we camped eight miles from Burksville. At the latter place we rested a few days, before resuming the march to Washington. Here the news first reached us of Lincoln's a.s.sa.s.sination. A number of men, who had been taken prisoners during 1864, rejoined us.

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

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

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

"Yes; I belonged to Company D."

"You did!"

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

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

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

But my narrative must hasten to a close. We resumed the march, pa.s.sed through Petersburg, Richmond, Fredericksburg, and camped at last on Arlington Heights. We partic.i.p.ated in the grand review. It was something of more than ordinary interest, to see and compare the two great armies.

Most of Sherman's army had but just arrived, and were dusty and travel-worn; while the army of the Potomac had been resting for some time, and looked fresher and more sprightly. The latter wore caps, and the former hats, which gave them a more somber appearance. I was also of the impression that there were more young men in our army than in Sherman's.

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

The report of the Adjutant-general of Pennsylvania gives these two regiments, the One Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hundred and Ninety-first, no credit for active service subsequent to the battle of Welden Railroad, August, 1864. At this time, Colonel Carle, of the One Hundred and Ninety-first, and Colonel Hartshorn, of the One Hundred and Ninetieth, were made prisoners, with the greater part of their respective commands, and remained in captivity till after the cessation of hostilities. The remainder of the two regiments acted together as one organization, under command of Colonel Pattee, as mentioned on page 118, until the close of the war. This was by far the longest and most brilliant period of their history; but of this, the public records of the State make no mention. At the time of the muster out, Colonel Pattee was absent, and the report of the One Hundred and Ninetieth was made out by, or under the supervision of, Colonel Hartshorn; that of the One Hundred and Ninety-first by Colonel Carle. We suppose that these officers neglected to insert the names of the engagements which occurred while Colonel Pattee was in command.

The following is a list of the battles in which the regiment took part:

WHITE OAK SWAMP, {190th,} Col. J. B. Pattee.

June 13, 1864, {191st,}

PETERSBURG, {190th,} Col. J. B. Pattee.

June 17, 1864, {191st,}

WELDON RAILROAD, {190th,} Col. W. R. Hartshorn.

August 19, 1864, {191st,} Col. ---- Carle.[*]

2D WELDON RAILROAD, {190th,} Captain Birkman.(?) August 21, 1864, {191st,}

POPLAR GROVE, {190th,} Col. J. B. Pattee.

September 29, 1864, {191st,}

HATCHER'S RUN, (190th,) Col. J. B. Pattee.

October 27, 1864, (191st,)

ROWANTY CREEK, (190th,) Col. J. B. Pattee.

February 5, 1865, (191st,)

HATCHER'S RUN, (190th,) Col. J. B. Pattee.

February 6, 1865, (191st,)