Headquarters 53d Regiment P. V.,
Camp Near Sandy Hook, Md.,
Thursday, July 16th, 1863.
Messrs. Editors–We have received the Ledger of the 14th, and were somewhat surprised that a large communication that we
wrote you several weeks ago, while our corps was watching an advancing column of the enemy and eating a dysenteryish
quantity of cherries at Thoroughfare Gap, Va., did not reach you.–Hoping that the letter we scribbled under so many
difficulties will yet turn up, we will, with a few dashes of the pen, leave our old camp near the battered and heroic city of
Fredericksburg, and hasten to the beleaugered State of our birth and love.
We left Falmouth on the 15th of last month, and by a series of most severe marches we yet have performed, we
marched via, Stafford Court House, Dumfries, Occoquan, Sangster Station and Centreville, to Thoroughfare Gap, Va., reaching
the latter point on the night of the 20th. On Thursday night, June 29th, our pickets were attacked. An apparently heavy column
of the enemy was advancing upon our position. Ordered to leave, which we accomplished instantly, the rebels hurrying our
movements by repeated doses of shell in our rear, wounding several. We marched fifteen miles and bivouacked for the night at
Gum Springs. A furious rain storm rained all night–somebody must have been hurrying up a contract for a new deluge. Next
morning, we again moved onward, and by noon halted on the banks of the Potomac, at Edward’s Ferry.
At midnight the column crossed the river on pontoon bridges and we were once more treading the fertile soil of “My
Maryland.” On the 27th we marched through the pleasant burg of Poolesville and mud. Passed Barnesville after nightfall and at
10 o’clock stacked arms on the eastern slope of Sugar Loaf Mountain. It was, as usual, raining most of the day–and it was a
very wet and uncomfortable rain. Early next morning the column again moved forward, our route was through a splendid, rich
and well-cultivated country, abounding with fields of golden grain and pretty blue-eyed girls. At noon we reached the summit
of the heights, and spread out before us was the glorious, beautiful and picturesque valley, in the midst of which the steeples of
Frederick City raise their white and slender forms towards the blue sky. We bivouacked at Monocacy, about two miles below
that city.
At 7 A. M., (June 29th) the resumed the march, passed over Monocacy bridge at the railroad depot, passing to the
right of the city about two miles, we struck the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and once more passed over the Monocacy.
Taking a road to the left, and which the residents told us was the direct way to Pennsylvania, we scarcely had marched a mile,
when the omnipresent Monocacy again crossed our path, and for the third time we crossed it, this last time, however there was
no bridges about, and so we forded it. About nine miles from Frederick we passed the “right smart” town of Liberty. A slave at
Liberty will still be a slave. A march of six miles in a valley of the greatest fertility brought us to Johnstown–that being the
collective title of a dozen cheerful looking residences, situated along the road at an average distance of one-fourth of a mile
apart. We passed hundreds of acres of the finest wheat; at many places the farmers were busy harvesting. By 2 o’clock we
arrived at Middleville and the weary end of eighteen miles.
The column was rested for a short time, when we again moved onward. The fact became painfully apparently that we
were to do some “big” marching. On we go, over hills, through shaded woods and sweet-scented valleys; slowly but steadily
the long dark blue heaving mass for miles dragged its slow length along. The sun slowly sank to rest in the far west, but there
was no rest for us; in the beautiful twilight we kept marching on. By 8 o’clock, A. M., we had marched twenty-eight miles.
Many of the troops were exhausted and lay by the roadside. Everybody was very tired. We even believe that some of our
soldiers would have given utterance to more or less profane words, but they were too much exhausted to speak. Uniontown was
generally believed to be our destination, and every countryman we met was asked a thousand times by as many different
persons, “How far to Uniontown?” The answers of course would be contradictory. One said “four miles,” marching a mile
further we would receive the pleasing intelligence that it was “just five miles,”–this was refreshing plaster for blistered feet.
Under the severe circumstances of the case many of the boys propounded to themselves in a manner peculiarly emphatic the
question: “Oh! Why did you go for a soldier?”
But their understandings were too weak to furnish consoling reasons. To reach Uniontown and bivouac was during
the time the height of our aspirations. By some hocus pocus the town gradually neared us–it was difficult to tell whether we
were moving towards the village or the village moving towards us. We moved our weary limbs so
slowly that we almost stood still. In answer to our interrogatories, the well fed farmers left off the “4’s”
and “5’s” and got the distance mixed up in a conglomeration of “3’s,” “2½’s” and occasionally “4’s.” “
‘Twas the o’clock that moonlight night, we ever shall remember,” when the town was only “just over the hill,” “a few hundred
yards,” &c. At last we reached it. We passed through it, and in the night darkened woods at the hour when the old day under
cover of midnight shades was stealing good-night kisses from to-morrow, we lay our wearied bodies on the green sod and
slept. The Yankees who done up seven nights’ sleep in one night had a restless slumber in comparison with the sweet, balmy
sleep of the boys of the 53d after a march of 32 miles in one day. We rested here twenty-four hours.
On the morning of July 1st, we packed up early and resumed the march. We moved slowly. We were nearing
Pennsylvania and the enemy. How strange it sounds to use those two words in such close connection. Two miles march passed
us through Taneytown. At 4 o’clock P. M., we passed over Mason & Dixon’s line into the Keystone State. We were moving on
the Gettysburg road. A fight was progressing in our front; at 10 o’clock we halted for the night about three miles from the
battle field and bivouacked in line of battle. The 53d was put on picket. During the night the entire Division was engaged in
building breastworks–it was possible that a flanking column of the enemy might attack us.
The following morning, the ever memorable day–Thursday, July 2d, we were marching before daybreak, and reached
the battle field by 8 o’clock, and halted in a wood, where we rested half an hour. All the while the troops were briskly moving
and taking positions in order of battle. We moved from the woods to the rear of the left centre of our line and the whole
division was massed in columns of regiments. Slight cannonading was kept up all morning. About 3 o’clock, P. M., one of our
batteries on the left opened fire, the enemy quickly responding, inaugurating quite a lively fusilade of shell and shot. The
different divisions began moving in line of battle toward the front. The 3d Corps began the action. The enemy steadily resisted,
and finally completely checked the advance of the 3d Corps, and it began falling back. This was part of Meade’s programme–it
led the enemy to do just what he did, follow up the 3d Corps and attack us in our chosen position of battle, where the advantage
of position was in our favor.
About 4 o’clock our Division was moved to the left. It now became evident that the object of the enemy was to turn
our left flank, and by so doing cut us from the Baltimore Pike and our source of supplies. The cannonading became terrifically
grand–fully three hundred pieces of artillery were incessantly belching forth the missiles of death. The infantry engagement
became general and was, like the cannonading, confined mainly to the left. The great battle for the redemption of Pennsylvania
was being fought. Hearts beat high with hope–the army went in to the action confident of success–all hearts resolved on victory
or death. The tide of battle rolled higher. The sharp cracking of a hundred thousand small arms kept dreadful harmony with the
deep, deadly base of the heavy ordnance. The birds that had quietly nestled and warbled their cheering notes in the green
foliage of the wood, flew screaming through the air, alarmed at the terrible uproar of battle.
For three hours the conflict raged with perfect fury; the rebels fought splendidly and made several desperate charges.
But our brave soldiers were fighting for their homes and firesides, and gallantly repulsed every attempt to drive them from their
position. Col. Brooke’s Brigade went into action on the left about 4½, P. M. The 53d was formed in the centre of the brigade
line of battle. Under a severe shelling fire the column was moved from the centre to reinforce the left. Formed in order of battle
on the edge of a copse it moved forward in fine style, and relieved the 1st Brigade, and finally the Irish Brigade, when it had
advanced about a fourth of a mile and reached the centre of a wheat field, firing commenced.
But this was too slow work for our brave Colonel, bayonets were fixed–“Forward, charge!” was the word, and with a
loud hurrah, that was heard above the din of battle, at a double-quick, the entire line moved on. The enemy could not stand. He
broke and ran for dear life. Hundreds of prisoners were captured. On went the line. Brave men fell. That field of golden wheat
that was itself ready for the harvesters was made the bloody harvest field of death and carnage. Col. Brooke’s sword still
flashed in the advance, cheering on this grand old charge of the old veterans of the 4th Brigade. The crest of hill is captured,
and the enemy is forced from a strong position.
But now a new unlooked for danger menaced our brave but decimated columns. For a mile and a half the 4th Brigade
had charged a flying foe. The desired goal was reached, but the noble old brigade, in the fury of the onset, had outstripped the
rest of our line and was far in the advance. The enemy soon perceived this and commenced crowding his troops on our both
flanks with the intention of cutting us off and effecting the capture of the entire brigade. Col. Brooke at once dispatched Lieut.
Smith, one of his aids, for reinforcements, but the aid was wounded, and at this juncture the Colonel received a painful
contusion of the thigh. To prevent all from being killed, wounded or captured, the order was reluctantly given to retire back to
our former line. This was effected in good order through a murderous fire of the enemy’s infantry and artillery. Forming near
Roundtop Hill about 8 o’clock, when the battle for the day was over. The enemy was repulsed at every point, the fight was
expected to be renewed in the morning, and many were the surmises made with regard to Lee’s plans for the morrow.
At early dawn on the morning of the 3d the challenge shot was fired from one of our batteries, which the enemy were
prompt in answering. The morning was occupied in skirmishing and artillery dueling. At noon the enemy opened upon our left
centre and left with all of his artillery, perhaps 150 guns, and shell, shot, grape and stones were thrown inside of our lines by
tons. Our troops during the night had thrown up earthworks which served greatly to protect them from the furious fire of the
enemy. Several “forlorn hopes” charged upon our works on the left, but in every instance it was an ignominious failure., and
very few escaped to tell of their defeat and slaughter. Under cover of this fierce artillery fusilade on our left, Lee threw the whole
mass of his infantry on our right near nameless hill. This attempt to turn our right was gallantly met by the 12th and part of the
6th Corps. For several hours the attack continued, and only about sundown when some eighty pieces of artillery were cross-firing
the rebel lines, they fell back. Thus on the close of the 3d days’ battle the Union forces still remained the victorious masters of
the position. And thus was closed the battle of Gettysburg, one of the most sanguinary of the war. Lee’s army of invaders was
badly defeated. His boasted programme of northern conquest was torn and scattered to the winds. His grand battalions that
were to overpower, capture or disperse the Army of the Potomac, and march with the flaunting banner of the rebellion to Baltimore
and the nation’s Capital, were, in a fair contest completely overthrown, and, like thieves, escaped under cover of night. Pennsylvania
was free from the traitor’s foul foot-steps pollution. The blue starry cross of treason, shame and robbery, was tumbled into the mire
and the transplendent oriflamme of freedom and Union on the morning of the anniversary of our nation’s birth, waved the gorgeous
emblem of victory, over all the fair fields and hills of the Keystone of the Republic.
On the 4th, the troops lay under arms in the breastworks; sharp skirmishing was going on. A reconnoissance to the
front showed that the enemy was retreating and active measures were at once taken to closely follow up. Only seven
Companies of the 53d were in the engagement. The other three Companies, A, B and K, were provost guard and were only
under shelling fire and suffered no loss, except Henry Butz received a contusion wound of shell. The Regiment was
commanded by Lieut. Col. McMichael, who nobly led his command through the thickest of the conflict. It is unnecessary to
remark that in this the fifteenth battle in which the regiment has taken part, it acted gallantly. Of 124 men who went into action,
only 45 came out uninjured. Six were killed, sixty-seven wounded and six missing. We intended to send you a list of casualties,
but unfortunately we lost it, and have no means at present of getting one. The only casualty from Pottstown is Sergeant Major
Samuel H. Rutter, who received a severe flesh wound in the leg by a minie ball, while gallantly fighting in the front line of the
battle. In the regiment seven officers were wounded. Two officers of the 53d on Col. Brooke’s staff, Capt. Smith and Lieut.
Smith, both brave young men, were severely wounded. Lieut. John H. Root, Acting Assistant Inspector General of the first
Brigade, was severely wounded in the shoulder, while in the hottest of the fight. He remained on the field attending to his
duties half an hour after he was wounded.
It pains us to notice the death of Andrew Miesimer of battery A, 1st U. S. Artillery, who was shot dead while at his post
of duty. He enlisted at the commencement of the war in Company A, 53d Pa. Vols., was in a number of engagements and for a
few weeks was a prisoner of war in Richmond. Becoming tired of the infantry arm of service he was transferred to the Regular
Artillery. While nobly fighting in the heat of the battle he died for his country, Liberty and law.
On the 4th we visited the 68th P. V. They were actively engaged on the 2d, and lost heavily. Col. Tippin exhibited great
gallantry during the day, and had his horse shot under him. Lieut. Benjamin Guest commanded Company H, and the boys
speak highly of his coolness and bravery in action. Company H fought with undoubted courage throughout the battle, and won
laurels that will never fade. You have already received and published a list of their wounded. Our friend fellow-printer, Sergt.
D. Q. Geiger, received a painful flesh wound during the fight. While gallantly using his “shooting-stick,” a dastard rebel
knocked his arm into “pi” with a minie ball. Many a column he “leaded” for the Ledger; but now a Johnny Reb has “leaded”
him. May the “period” of his indisposition be short and may he soon again be able to make a “dash” in the “lines” of the
enemy. May he long live to “shake types” and tense the “devil.”
On Sunday July 5th, we left the battle-field and marched about three miles to a small place called Two Taverns where
we bivouacked. On the 7th we left Pennsylvania and bivouacked at Taneytown to await supplies. Raining most of the time.
Marched next day–raining all morning. The roads were in a miserable condition, and muddy enough in a quiescent state but
ten thousand feet was working the roads into one long mortar bed. In one field that we passed through was of such an adhesive
nature, that we thought we were passing through an acre or so of Spalding’s prepared glue. At noon we halted one hour for
dinner at Woodsborough. At 4 P. M., we bivouacked for the night within four miles of Frederick City–having marched twenty-
two miles through the mud. The next day we marched about twenty miles, passing over South Mountain at night and halting
for the night near Burkettsville.
On the 10th we passed through Rohrersville and Keeleysville and bivouacked near Funkstown about eight miles from
Williamsport. Line of battle was formed by the Corps connected with the 12th Corps. Early next morning we marched, and had
gone about two miles when our skirmishers engaged those of the enemy. The rebels were posted along the edge of a wood
between the Hagerstown and Williamsport roads. After popping at each other for half an hour, two pieces of Pleasanton’s horse
artillery were put in position and commenced shelling the rebel skirmishers. In the afternoon we marched forward and
occupied the woods in line of battle. During the night the troops fortified the position.
The next day, Sunday the 12th, things were quiet, except an occasional shot on the picket line. Monday was also
quiet, General Meade reviewing the lines. A skirmish Brigade was under the command of Col. Brooke. About 8 o’clock the
skirmishers carefully advanced, but had not gone many miles where they discovered that the enemy had evacuated. The line
proceeded briskly forward capturing a number of prisoners. The line of skirmishers, including the 53d Pa., became engaged
with those of the enemy near Williamsport, and drove the enemy before them, taking many prisoners. The enemy shelled our
line, but did not hurt any one. The line was halted near Falling Waters, where Lee crossed his infantry. The Rebel army had
made a clean and thorough escape, saving nearly all his ammunition and stores.
The next day we resumed the march, passing through Sharpsburg and over the old battle-field of Antietam. At the
mouth of Antietam creek, we left the road and marched on the tow-path of the Potomac canal. When near Harper’s Ferry we
bivouacked. The next morning, we had the pleasure of meeting some of our friends of the 175th P. V., that are here awaiting
transportation, their time having expired. Captain Steele and Lieut. Binder look very well, after their tough campaign in the
pine woods of North Carolina.
This day (16th) we reached Pleasant Valley, a few miles below Harper’s Ferry, where we have gone into camp to refit, and
wash ourselves–something that most of us sadly need.
Saturday, July 18th.
Early this morning we broke camp, and passing over the pontoon bridges at the Ferry we marched about 8 miles and
are now in bivouac in Loudon Valley, near Waterford.
Yours, &c., Levi J. Fritz.
[Montgomery Ledger, August 4, 1863]
