GDG- Mary McAllister

[Ginny Gage]

Wednesday, the first of July, the Union soldiers began to come into town and
we thought we were safe, but in an hour or two the shooting began and that
was the battle starting. Then the Union infantry began to come down our
street at double-quick.  Martha (Mary¹s sister) had baked bread all that
morning and I was stowing away things.  When the soldiers began coming down
the street, they called:  Give us water!  Give us water!²  They were going
at double-quick.  Our boys and Horner¹s boys dipped the tin cups in the tubs
and the soldiers tossed back the cups as they ran on.  And the biscuits got
all burned and there was so much excitement that we went into the house.  We
locked the doors and went upstairs and thought we could bar them out. But
soon the wounded ones came in so fast, and they took them in different
houses and into the church. The first wounded soldier I saw was with John
McLean.  John was not fighting; he was too old to go into the army.  The
first wounded man I saw he brought in. The soldier was on a white horse and
John was holding him by the leg.  The blood was running down out of the
wound over the horse. Our John (John Scott) had been sick and was just able
to be about and he fainted.  John McLean went to Belle King¹s and he
hollers:  ³Belle, come out here and help this man in.² They got him off the
horse and they let the horse go.  They brought him into our house and Martha
and I put him on the lounge, and I didn¹t know what in the world to do.
Mrs. Weikert lived near us and she said Let us go to the church. We can be
of use there.² Martha had torn up sheets for bandages and I gathered up
sheets and water and Mrs. Weikert and I went to the church and we went to
work.  They carried the wounded in there as fast as they could.  We took the
cushions off the seats and some officers came in and said ³Lay them in the
aisles.²  Then we did all we could for the wounded men.  After a while they
carried in an awfully wounded one. He was a fine officer.  They did not know
who he was.  A doctor said to me ³Go and bring some wine or whiskey or some
stimulant!²  When I got outside I thought of Mr. Guyer near the church.
³Well,² I said, ³Mr. Guyer, can you give me some win?²  He said ³The rebels
will be in here if you begin to carry that out.²  ³I must have it,² I said.
³Give me some.²  I put it under my apron and went over to the church with
it.  They poured some of it into the officer¹s mouth. I never knew who he
was, but he died.  Well, I went to doing what they told me to do, wetting
cloths and putting them on the wounds and helping.  Every pew was full; some
sitting, some lying, some leaning on others.  They cut off the legs and arms
and threw them out of the windows.  Every morning the dead were laid on the
platform in a sheet or blanket and carried away.  There was a boy with seven
of his fingers near off.  He said, ³Lady, would you do something for me?²
The surgeon came along and he said ³What is the use doing anything for
them?²  and he just took his knife and cut off the fingers and they dropped
down.  Well, I was so sorry.  A man sat in a pew and he was young and white
(pale from shock). He said, ³Lady, come here. Do you know if there is a
Mason in town?²  I said, ³Yes, there is one Harper, a printer, but he has
left town and I know no other. (She was speaking of Robert Goodloe Harper,
editor of the  Adams Sentinel.)  ³Oh!²  he said, ³if you could only get to
him.²  But I was too scared.  The church was full and just then there was a
shell struck the roof and they got scared, and I was scared.  I wanted to go
home.  (I often think that a shell might be in the church yet).  I looked
around for Mrs. Weikert.  They said ³They are going to shell the church!²
Well, they begged me not to go, but I went out and there the high church
steps were full of wounded men and they begged me not to try to cross the
street.  Our men were retreating up the street.  Many wounded ones who could
walk carried the worst wounded ones on their backs.  I said, ³Oh, I want  go
home.²  So they let me go at last.  I struggled through the wounded and the
dead and forgot the horror in the fright.  I was as high (far) up as
Beuhler¹s drug store before I got across the street and got home. When I
came to the door it was standing open and the step was covered with blood.
³Oh!² I thought, ³All are dead!² and I ran through.  I could hardly get
through for the dining room was full of soldiers, some lying, some standing.
Some ran in to get out of the shooting.  The rebels were sending grapeshot
down the street and everyone who was on the street had to get into the
houses or be killed and that is the way some of these Union men got into our
house.  Col. Morrow, of the 24th Michigan, was in our house.  I saw the
blood on his face for he had been cut on the head with a sabre (Note:  It
was a bullet that grazed his scalp ­ see Official Records 27-1-271) and I
said:  ³Can I do anything for you?²  He said, ³Yes, if you would just wash
this handkerchief out.²  I rushed out to get water and I washed it out and
laid it on his head.  There was a young Irishman in there, too.  His name
was Dennis Burke Dailey, 2nd Wisconsin.  He was so mad when he found what a
trap they were in.  He leaned out of the kitchen window and saw the bayonets
of the rebels bristling in the alley and in the garden.  I said, ³There is
no escape there.² I opened the kitchen door and they were tearing the fence
down with their bayonets.  This young Irishman says ³I am not going to be
taken prisoner, Colonel!²  And he says to me ³Where can I hide?²  I said, ³I
don¹t know, but you can go upstairs.²  ³No,² he said, ³but I will go up the
chimney.²  ³You will not,² said the Colonel.  ³You must not endanger this
family.²  So he came back.  He was so mad he gritted his teeth.  Then he
says to me ³Take this sword, and keep it at all hazards.  This is Gen.
Archer¹s sword.  He surrendered it to me.  I will come back for it.²  I ran
to the kitchen, got some wood and threw some sticks on top of it.  The Iron
Brigade was the one that captured Gen. Archer and made him give up his
sword.  This Dailey was the only officer and Gen. Archer would not give it
to a private.  So Dailey stepped up and said ³I am next in command!² and he
took the sword.  Col. Morrow says to me ³Take my diary.  I do not want them
to get it.²  I did not know where to put it, so I opened my dress and put it
in my dress.  He said, ³That¹s the place, they will not get it there.²  Then
all those wounded men crowded around and gave me their addresses. Then this
Irishman, he belonged to the 2nd Wisconsin, said, ³Here is my pocketbook, I
wish you would keep it.²  Afterward I did not remember what I did with it,
but what I did was to pull the little red cupboard away and put it back of
that. In the meantime Martha had gone upstairs and brought a coat of John¹s.
She said, ³Here, Colonel, put this coat on.²  But he would not take the coat
she brought him.  He would not stoop to disguise himself and he gave the
others orders that they were to give their right names when they were taken
prisoners.  So he kept his officer¹s coat and epaulettes.  Then there came a
pounding on the door.  Col. Morrow said, ³You must open the door.  They know
we are in here and they will break it.²  By this time the rebels came in and
they said, ³Oh, here is a bird!²  He was such a fine looking man.  But they
just demanded his sword.  He had a beautiful sword.  They paroled some.
There was a young man there from Michigan, the same as Col. Morrow. He said
³Do write to my mother. I am slightly wounded, but I guess they will take me
prisoner.  I had all these addresses, but I mislaid his and did not find it
until two months afterward.  Then I wrote to his mother and the same day she
got a letter from him and it seems he had escaped.  It was this way ­ they
were exchanging prisoners at Libby Prison and this young man thought he
would just come and stand in line, though his name had not been called.  He
thought nothing worse could happen than for him to be shot, so he just
walked to the other end of the line while the officers were at the opposite
end, and no one knew that he had no right to be there.  So he was taken with
the rest to Baltimore and there paroled, and somehow he got to his mother.
Then he entered medical (or was it law) school and he had just graduated
when he took typhoid fever and died.  His mother was heartbroken.  She wrote
to me.  He was one they took prisoner in our dining room, along with Col.
Morrow and the rest.  That Irishman, (Dailey) he was so stubborn.  He was a
major (1st Lt., acting ADC on Gen. Meredith¹s brigade staff) then.  He stood
back so very solemn.  Then they took him prisoner.  He asked them to let him
come back into the house.  Then he said to us ³Give me apiece of bread.²
Martha said, ³I have just one piece and that is not good.² He said, ³It
don¹t make any difference.  I must have it. I have not had anything to eat
for 24 hours.²  Then the rebels took him.  That the wounded in there saw.
Then the rebels said ³Those that are not able to walk we will not take; we
will parole them.² But they said to these wounded men ³Now if you ever get
to fight you know what we will do.²  But the wounded ones did not pay much
attention to that.  Then they took away as prisoners all that could walk.
The next thing then was to get these wounded fixed.  Then the firing ceased
for that evening.  That was the time we went upstairs to get some of the
wounded ones in bed and to get pillows to make the others as comfortable as
we could.  Five surgeons came in and one of them said, ³Now if you had
anything like a red flag, it would be a great protection to your house,
because it would be considered a hospital, and they would have respect.²
Well, Martha thought of a red shawl she had.  She got it and I got the broom
ad we hoisted the front window and were just fixing it on the broom when six
or seven rebels came riding up the street firing and yelling.  Well, we did
not know what we were doing.  They halted at the church to say something to
the wounded men on the high church steps who had gathered themselves out of
range of the firing, and in a few minutes a pistol went off and we saw they
had shot a man.  He was down then ad when we looked, he was lying with his
head toward us on the pavement.  And those men on the steps said, ³Shame!
Shame!  That was a Chaplain!²  Those on horseback said, ³He was going to
shoot.²  But the wounded men said, ³He was not armed.²  They had a good many
words and then they rode off again, shooting as they had come.

Ginny Gage