596 Nortu Carorina Troops, 1861-’65.

about 6 o’clock a. m., and by the time we could look around
at the situation we saw across a small field about two hundred
yards wide, the Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment, number-
ing 339 officers and men, advance from the wood in a full
charge towards us. Immediately we commenced some of
the most rapid firing we had ever been called upon to do;
and our regiment succeeded in repulsing them. In that
charge they lost one hundred and ten (110) killed and
wounded and one prisoner who ran into us to save his life.
Before they had advanced one hundred yards they had four
(4) color-bearers killed and four wounded. They were sup-
ported by the Second Massachusetts, which immediately
came forward to charge over the same ground with two hun-
dred and ninety-four (294) men and twenty-two officers.
They soon retired to the wood leaving four officers and forty-
one men killed and six officers and eighty-four men wounded.
The above figures are correct, for they are copied from the
monuments of the two regiments above mentioned, now stand-
ing upon the field. The rest of our brigade was fronted to
the west, while our regiment was fronted to the South. The
line of battle at Gettysburg was in the shape of a fishhook,
the First North Carolina Regiment was on the extreme left,
or point of the hook, and fronted south right across the point
of the hook.

The enemy did not attempt again that day to charge us out
of our stronghold, but they planted a battery at a conven-

ient distance and commenced to shell the tops of the giant old
oaks that stood around and whose limbs hung over our heads.

+Many limbs fell on us during the remainder of the day, but
we would ward them off as best we could, and while some
were hurt by them, no serious damage was sustained.

At about 4 o’clock that evening when Pickett and Petti-
grew’s charge on the opposite side had failed, that noble old
hero, our Division Commander, General Edward Johnson,
made his appearance on the firing line, and said: ‘Men, I
want you to fall back on your position of yesterday; but I
don’t want to see one of you run; follow me slowly,” which
we did in good style. As the enemy never pressed us in the
least I suppose they had had enough. In a few minutes we

 

Tue First Reeiment at Gerryspure. 597

were recrossing Rock Creek. We were very warm and the
water was about waist deep and I took a chill.

A kind Confederate cavalryman in passing, saw me all
shivering and shaking and invited me to a near-by rock and
told me to mount his horse behind him. He carried me
about two miles out on the Cashtown road and put me down
at one of our field hospitals. I found the physician in charge
too busy with the wounded to give me any attention. As it
was growing dark I lay down opposite the farm house that
had been converted into a hospital, the yard of which was
full of wounded and dying men. At that time I felt sure
that the battle was ours, for a great many of our wagons were
moving towards Gettysburg during the night.

When these two grand armies met at Gettysburg, the Con-
federates came from the north and the Union army came
from the south. Thus as I had come in on the Cashtown
road I felt safe because our wagons on the night of the 3d
were still going on towards Gettysburg. General Lee was
concentrating southwest of the town, preparing to withdraw
his shattered, but not defeated, army in that direction.

Next morning when I arose from the ground the first thing
that met my gaze was a regiment of the enemy’s cavalry a
hundred yards up the road, coming toward me. I still had
my trusty rifle in my hands, but it would have been suicidal
to have used it then. As they approached an officer asked
me why I did not drop my gun. I told him that I had for-
gotten that I had one. ‘‘Well,” said he, “You had better go
on towards Gettysburg,” which I did and that night got some
medical attention, a night’s rest in a hay loft and something,
to eat next morning. I was then turned over to Kilpat-
rick’s cavalry, which started us on the march to Frederick
City, as narrated by me in “Two Years at Fort Delaware.”

I must refrain from narrating the means by which I es-
eaped from Fort Delaware and my adventures on the road
home; since at the time I was pledged to secrecy as to many
matters which it may not be well to divulge even after a
lapse of nearly thirty-seven years, lest some one, though an
enemy at that time, will be inconvenienced even now, for I
would have to mention names of persons who might yet be