GDG- Sarah Broadhead

[Ginny Gage]

Catching up!

--

June 30.‹

My husband came home last night at 1 o¹clock, having walked from Harrisburg,
thirty-six miles, since 9 o¹clock of yesterday morning. His return has put
me in good spirits.  I wonder that he escaped the Rebels, who are scouring
the country between here and there. Fatigue is all the ill that befell him.
This morning the Rebels came to the top of the hill overlooking the town on
the Chambersburg pike, and looked over at our place.  We had a good view of
them from our house, and every moment we expected to hear the booming of
cannon, and thought they might shell the town. As it turned out, they were
only reconnoitering the town preparatory to an advance if no force opposed
them. We were told that a heavy force of our soldiers were within five
miles, and the Rebels, learning that a body of cavalry was quite near,
retraced their steps, and encamped some distance from town.  It begins to
look as though we will have a battle soon, and we are in great fear.  I see
by the papers that General Hooker has been relieved, and the change of
commanders I fear may give great advantage to the enemy, and our army may be
repulsed.  

July 1 -
I got up early this morning to get my baking done before any fighting would
begin.  I had just put my bread in the pans when the cannons began to fire,
and true enough the battle had begun in earnest, about two miles out on the
Chambersburg pike.  What to do or where to go, I did not know.  People were
running here and there, screaming that the town would be shelled.  No one
knew where to go or what to do.  My husband advised remaining where we were,
but all said we ought not to remain in our exposed position, and that it
would be better to go to some part of the town farther away from the scene
of the conflict.  As our neighbors had all gone away, I would not remain,
but my husband said he would stay at home.  About 10 o¹clock the shells
began to ³fly around quite thick,² and I took my child and went to the house
of a friend up town.  As we passed up the street we met wounded men coming
in from the field.  When we saw them, we, for the first time, began to
realize our fearful situation, and anxiously to ask, Will our army be
whipped?  Some said there was no danger of that yet, and pointed to
Confederate prisoners who began to be sent through our streets to the rear.
Such a dirty, filthy set, no one ever saw.  They were dressed in all kinds
of clothes, of all kinds and no kind of cuts.  Some were barefooted and a
few wounded.  Though enemies, I pitied them.  I, with others, was sitting at
the doorstep bathing the wounds of some of our brave soldiers, and became so
much excited as the artillery galloped through the town, and the infantry
hurried out to reinforce those fighting, that for a time we forgot our fears
and our danger.  All was bustle and confusion.  No one can imagine in what
extreme fright we were when our men began to retreat.  A citizen galloped up
to the door in which we were sitting and called out, ³For God¹s sake go in
the house!  The Rebels are in the other end of town, and all will be
killed!²  We quickly ran in, and the cannonading coming nearer and becoming
heavier, we went to the cellar, and in a few minutes the town was full of
the filthy Rebels. They did not get farther, for our soldiers having
possession of the hills just beyond, shelled them so that they were glad to
give over the pursuit, and the fighting for the day was ended.  We remained
in the cellar until the firing ceased, and then feared to come out, not
knowing what the Rebels might do.  How changed the town looked when we came
to the light.  The street was strewn over with clothes, blankets, knapsacks,
cartridge-boxes, dead horses, and the bodies of a few men, but not so many
of these last as I expected to see.  ³Can we go out?² was asked of the
Rebels.  ³Certainly,² was the answer; ³they would not hurt us.²  We started
hoe, and found things all right.  As I write all is quiet, but O! how I
dread to-morrow.

July 2--

Of course we had no rest last night.  Part of the time we watched the Rebels
rob the house opposite.  The family had left some time during the day, and
the robbers must have gotten all they left in the house.  They went from the
garret to the cellar, and loading up the plunder in a large four-horse
wagon, drove it off.  I expected every minute that they would burst in our
door, but they did not come near us.  It was a beautiful moonlight night,
and we could see all they did.

July 2-

The cannonading commenced about 10 o¹clock, and we went to the cellar and
remained a little while until it ceased.  When the noise subsided, we came
to the light again, and tried to get something to eat.  My husband went to
the garden and picked a mess of beans, though stray firing was going on all
the time, and bullets from sharpshooters or others whizzed about his head in
a way I would not have liked.  He persevered until he picked all, for he
declared the Rebels should not have one.  I baked a pan of shortcake and
boiled a piece of ham, the last we had in the house, and some neighbors
coming in, joined us, and we had the first quiet meal since the contest
began.  I enjoyed it very much.  It seemed so nice after so much confusion
to have a little quiet once more.  We had not felt like eating before, being
worried by danger and excitement. The quiet did not last long.  About 4
o¹clock P.M. the storm burst again with terrific violence.  It seemed as
though heaven and earth were being rolled together.  For better security we
went to the house of a neighbor and occupied the cellar, by far the most
comfortable part of the house.  Whilst there a shell struck the house, but
mercifully did not burst, but remained embedded in the wall, one half
protruding.  About 6 o¹clock the cannonading lessened, and we, thinking the
fighting over, came out.  Then the noise of the musketry was loud and
constant, and made us feel quite as bad as the cannonading, though it seemed
to me less terrible. Very soon the artillery joined in the din, and soon
became as awful as ever, and we again retreated to our friend¹s underground
apartment, and remained until the battle ceased, about 10 o¹clock at night.
I have just finished washing a few pieces for my child, for we expect to be
compelled to leave town tomorrow, as the Rebels say it will most likely be
shelled.  I cannot sleep, and as I sit down to write, to while away the
time, my husband sleeps as soundly as though nothing was wrong.  I wish I
could rest so easily, but it is out of the question for me either to eat or
sleep under such terrible excitement and such painful suspense.  We know not
what the morrow will bring forth, and cannot even tell the issue of to-day.
We can gain no information from the Rebels, and are shut off from all
communication with our soldiers.  I think little has been gained by either
side so far.  ³Has our army been sufficiently reinforced?² is our anxious
question.  A few minutes since we had a talk with an officer of the staff of
General Early, and he admits that our army has the best position, but says
we cannot hold it much longer.  The Rebels do so much bragging that we do
not know how much to believe.  At all events, the manner in which this
officer spoke indicates that our troops have the advantage so far.  Can they
keep it?  The fear they may not be able causes our anxiety and keeps us in
suspense.  

July 3‹

To-day the battle opened with fierce cannonading before 4 o¹clock A.M.
Shortly after the battle began we were told to leave this end of the town,
for likely it would be shelled.  My husband declared he would not go while
one brick remained upon another, and, as usual, we betook ourselves to the
cellar, where we remained until 10 o¹clock, when the firing ceased.  We
could not get breakfast on account of our fears and the great danger.
During the cessation we managed to get a cold bite.  Again, the battle began
with unearthly fury.  Nearly all the afternoon it seemed as if the heavens
and earth were crashing together.  The time that we sat in the cellar seemed
long, listening to the terrific sound of the strife; more terrible never
greeted human ears.  We knew that with every explosion, and the scream of
each shell, human beings were hurried, through excruciating pain, into
another world, and that many more were torn, and mangled, and lying in
torment worse than death, and no one able to extend relief.  The thought
made me very sad, and feel that, if it was God¹s will, I would rather be
taken away than remain to see the misery that would follow.  Some thought
this awful afternoon would never come to a close.  We knew that the Rebels
were putting forth all their might, and it was a dreadful thought that they
might succeed.  Who is victorious, or with whom the advantage rests, no one
here can tell.  It would ease the horror if we knew our arms were
successful.  Some think the Rebels were defeated, as thee has been no
boasting as on yesterday, and they look uneasy and by no means exultant.  I
hope they are correct, but I fear we are too hopeful.  We shall see
to-morrow.  It will be the 4th of July, and the Rebels have promised us a
glorious day.  If it only ends the battle and drives them off it will be
glorious, and I will rejoice.

July 4‹

This morning, about 6 o¹clock, I heard a great noise in the street, and
going to the door I saw a Rebel officer on horseback hallooing to some
soldiers on foot, to ³Hurry up, the Yankees have possession of the town and
all would be captured.²  I looked up street and saw our men in the public
square, and it was a joyful sight, for I knew we were now safe.  Soon after,
the Rebels sent in a flag of truce, but what was communicated we did not
know, and, in consequence, the people were more scared than ever, the report
spreading that it was to give notice to remove the women and children before
shelling the town.  As soon as the flag of truce had gone, our sharpshooters
were pushed out to this side of town, and were all around us.  We were
between two fires, and were kept close prisoners all day, not daring either
to go out, or even look out of the windows, on account of the bullets fired
at every moving object.  The people of other parts of the town could go
where they pleased. It has been a dreadfully long day. We know, however,
that the Rebels are retreating, and that our army has been victorious.  I
was anxious to help care for the wounded, but the day is ended and all is
quiet, and for the first time in a week I shall go to bed, feeling safe.