Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 May 1886 — THE BATTLE OF MONOCACY. [ARTICLE]

THE BATTLE OF MONOCACY.

BY W. L. GARDNER.

The morning of July 9, A. D. 1864, broke clear, bright, and sultry over the hills and valleys of “Maryland, My Maryland.” A slight shower had fallen during the night, only sufficient, however, to “lay” the dust, which at this time seemed to be plentiful everywhere, and freshen the heated summer air for a few hours, as by ten o’clock a. m. the heat was as intense andthe dust as easily disturbed as it had been on the preceding day. A somber quiet brooded over the tranquil scene, soon to be broken by the roar of artillery, the crash of small arms, and all the “harsh clamors of war. ” It is not my purpose to give a detailed account of this memorable engagement. Its details are familiar, even to the most casual student of our country’s history. Sufficient to say here that on this occasion the Federal forces, comprising about 6,000 men of all arms, withstood for five mortal hours the steady advance and determined onset of more than three times their number, consisting for the most part of the veterans of “Stonewall” Jackson’s old corps, nowunder command of Jubal A. Early. They were provided with a numerous and well-served park of artillery, while the Federals had but ! two batteries of light field-pieces. These I were handled, howeycr, with great rapidity and effect during the action, and were taken off the field in safety when the retreat was ordered. The Union forces were commanded by Major General Lew Wallace. With these facts, and other prominent features of the affair, my sketch may very properly be said to have nothing to do. It is only those incidents of the battle that came under iny own observation that I wish to relate. The brigade of which my regiment (One Hundred and Tenth Ohid) formed a part had arrived at Monocacy Junction, by rail, a little after nightfall on the evening of the eighth, disembarked at once, and went into bivouac, in full expectation of the battle which was destined to take place on tbe morrow. The writer was suffering from ap

attack of chronic diarrhea at the time, and, as a consequence, gained but a very indifferent night’s rest. The night passed in quiet, and at daybreak the camp was astir, breakfast prepared and eaten, after which preparations were made for issuing rations, of which we were sorely in need. It was now about eight o’clock in the forenoon. A train of freight cars, loaded with provisions, stood upon a side track, at a little distance, and thither I, with others of my company, repaired, along with our commissary sergeant, and were soon returning laden with hard-tack, coffee, sugar, soupbeans and “sow-belly,” in quantities sufficient, according to army regulations, for five days’ rations to each man. Scarcely had we reached camp, however, when orders came to “fall in.” But what, was the query, are we to do about our rations? Must we go into battle hungry, with plenty all around us? There was only a few moments’ suspense in regard to the matter, when we were ordered to carry our provisions with us. for distribution at the first opportunity. From this we understood that we were not to move to any great distance. Indeed, our destination became known to almost everyone in a few minutes. The cause of this sudden removal, was also at once apparent. The enemy, who, it seems,’ had moved out very early, had been reported as approaching in force, and it became necessary to act with promptness and celerity, in order to meet the coming storm. So away we went, “toting” our provisions with us, across the railroad and the river (Monocacy), which at the point where we crossed was quite shallow, up the steep bluff on the southern shore, and into a large rolling field, from which the last shock of wheat had been removed by its dwner scarcely an hour before. Line of battle was speedily formed along the northern slope of this field, the line facing to the south. Our right rested on the river, and the line, extending eastward round the crest of the ridge, was joined on the left by the Ninth New York Heavy Artillery. . The company to w’hich the writer belonged formed the extreme left of the line. This arrangement completed, the men were allowed to stack arms, and the distribution of rations began. As yet not a shot had been fired, and, in fact, no signs of an enemy were visible in oiu - immediate front. Soon all this was changed, however. It was now ten o’clock and the heat was becoming oppressive. Our commissary called out, “Third round of sugar for Company K,” when suddenly the lond roar of artillery off to the left announced the opening of the fray. Almost at the same moment the rebel skirmish line appeared, at the distance of perhaps a couple of miles. It is needless to remark that all further thought or care with regard to issuing rations was at once laid aside. Each man grasped his weapons and sprang to his place in the line. The writer stood in the front rank, near the center of his company, with many gallant comrades round him, whose names were never again heard at roll-call. The Union skirmishers promptly advanced, and soon the rattle of musketry and the wildpheers of the combatants blended with the heavy boom of cannon. The noise and fury of the conflict on our left increased with every passing moment, but the scene was hidden from our view’ by intervening hills. In our front and to our right the prospect was quite extended. Indeed, I have always felt that I had cause to congratulate myself upon the favorable position I occupied during the battle; that is, so far as a chance for observation was conceined. Not that the position was at all a safe one, for safety was nowhere. After standing in line of battle for some time, we fell back just a little from the crest of the ridge, and were ordered to “lie down.” Full well we knew what this portended, and obeyed the command with alacrity. Very soon our anticipations were realized, for the enemy had brought up a battery to the line of their skirmishers, and suddenly opened a rapid fire of shot and shell upon our position. It was now’ eleven o’clock, and the uproar - on all sides had become terrific. Every available piece of artillery on the Union side was brought into play, .and the fire of the skirmish lines, re-enforced by both sides, continued with ever-increasing fury. The air seemed tilled with the fragments of bursting shells, and the“wheep” and “ping” of musket balls was almost continuous. Dense clouds of dust and smoke were soon rising in all directions, at some points entirely shutting out the view. The writer, raising himself upon his elbow, watched the scene with that intensity of interest w’hich only those can realize who have undergone a like experience. I was particularly interested in the splendid action of a couple of small field pieces, posted near the summit of a hill, a short distance north of the railroad and to our right. The fire from these guns was rapid and accurate during the whole period of the battle. Among the many excellent shots made on that day by those pieces I have space to note but one, the effect of which was greeted with a hearty cheer by the hundreds of Union soldiers who witnessed it. A group of rebel officers, riding briskly up from the direction of Frederick City, came to a halt, we presume not unwillingly, within the welcome shadow cast by the leafy branches of a small spreading tree in an open field, and, as it happened, within point-blank range; and the hope w - as •at once expressed by many that those gunners had noticed their approach, and would speedily extend to them the compliments of the season. Nor were we doomed to disappointment. The very thing wished for, and doubtless expected by some, quickly came to pass. The group of officers in “faded gray” had little more than time sufficient to clear the dust and moisture from their eyelids, preparatory to taking a look to their front, when a shell from one of those guns on the hillside hurtled through the air, and descending, exploded, as nearly as I could judge, directly in the midst of the tree-top above them. Leaves and branches flew into the air. while more than one saddle was emptied, and the survivors of the party lost no time in getting away from a locality so unhealthy. All this while our part of the line was lying exposed to the fire of a full battery in front, while tLe toar of battle on our left gradually drew nearer, until it became evident that our flank was completely turned and that a retreat would be unavoidable. A few minutes after two o’clock p. m. the welcome call of “Attention” was heard, and the line was up and ready in an instant. No situation is more trying to a soldier’s mettle than to be forced to lie inactive for hours under the enemy’s fire, with no chance to return it, I will not attempt a description of the charge which followed. to say that it served its purpose, in that it gave a temporary check to the on-

ward rush of overwhelming numbers, and afforded our broken left wing a chance to save themselves from utter rout and capture. While advancing in this charge I was struck on the head, just over my left ear, by a spent ball, with immediate result of seeing such a galaxy of stars as I never beheld in the sky, succeeded by a most distress rag headache. Compelled, however, to yield to the pressure of three times our number, we fell back and formed in line once more, not far in the rear of our first position. From this point I had a good view - to the right, left, and rear, and it seemed tome as if the whole army, with the exception of our one small regiment, was in full retreat, and that we must inevitably be captured en masse, and I felt a sense of great relief when presently we were ordered to fall back beyond the river. The retreat now became general. The enemy threw numerous shells after us to accelerate our movements, and one of these bursting some distance to our right and rear, a small fragment thereof inflicted upon me a second and more serious wound, from the effect of which I have never recovered. I was helped off the field by a comrade, and managed in the course of the evening to reach Ellicott’s Mills, six miles from the battlefield, where, “weak and wounded, sick and sore,” I crawled aboard a car filled with others of our wounded and was carried to West Buildings Hospital, Baltimore. Here, by kind and judicious care and treatment, I was soon put up on my feet again. Several months were destined to elapse, however, ere I should be able to rejoin my regiment, which in the meantime was constantly marching and fighting. The battles of Winchester, Fisher’s Hill, and Cedar Creek had been fought, and in the last mentioned the noble comrade who helped me from the field, and thus saved me from falling into the hands of the rebels at Monocacy—a fate I dreaded worse than death—laid down his life, a willing sacrifice upon the altar of his country. Truly A brave boy was he, Gone at his country’s call; And yet, and yet, we cannot forget That many brave boys must fall.