Col. Brown rallied his men near the town, and a few shots were fired, and then continued their retreat.
Capt. Frank was killed, Lieut. Gates badly wounded, Co. G had lost nearly one-half its numbers and the few still on an army footing were exceedingly lonesome.
The streets of the town were soon blocked with ambulances, horsemen and men afoot. The exulting rebs were pouring into town in steady pursuit. Batteries from a distance were sending shells after the retreating Yankees. It was no time to stop and visit.
"Little Schimmel" remained too long to look after his men and nearly was captured. As he spurred away his horse was shot. The general sprang into a side street, which proved to be a cul de sac. He climbed a fence and found himself in the garden of Henry Garlach. The rebels were rapidly spreading over the town, and escape by the street was impossible. He espied the Garlach woodshed. Near the outer door stood a swill-barrel, and back of that was wood, cut for the stove. "Schimmel" was a small man. He cleared a space behind the barrel, where he secreted himself by piling wood about him. There was a small peep-hole through the wood and when Mrs. Garlach came into the shed, the general whispered to her, told her he was a Union officer and begged her not to betray him. Rebels were going through the houses searching for Union soldiers. They entered the wood-shed even. Although she was terribly anxious lest the rebs should find a soldier secreted on the premises, Mrs. Garlach did not forget that the general might be hungry. Her son was a lad of ten or twelve years, and she whispered to him aside, then handing him a large pail in the bottom of which rested a cup of water and some bread, she said aloud for the benefit of some rebel soldiers in the house—
"James, take this pail to the shed and get some swill for the pigs."
The boy successfully passed the food to the general, which was all he had for sixty hours.
July 4th, when the Union troops reentered the town "Schimmel" came forth, mighty stiff, but otherwise in fair condition. And when his old regiment found him they wept; they hugged and kissed the little man; better pleased than if he had been killed and buried ten feet deep in honors. They believed he had been taken prisoner.
When Orderly Forbes gathered in all they could find of Co. G, he had about a dozen men. (The word "about" is used because there were a few detached men). The corps was once more in position on Cemetery Hill. The 157th remnant lay with the reserve on the site of the present National Cemetery. And lay they did, on July 2d, and very flat. The rebels had concentrated their artillery fire upon that part of the line.
Just at dusk this reserve was ordered out on the right. The men were ready. The 157th followed the 61st Ohio, a veteran regiment; together they numbered less than one hundred men. By some mistake the 157th party became divided, a portion following Col. Brown and the others, Capt. Place. It was a night without a moon, and in the shadowing woods, very dark. Just as the 61st and the detachment of the 157th under Capt. Place, "had reached the angle of our line," writes that gentleman, "a volley was fired from behind a stone wall in the edge of the wood … the woods beyond were all ablaze with musketry … several of the detachment were killed or wounded. The officer commanding the 61st ordered his men to file to the right and left as fast as they could. Our men were ordered to follow. When out of range the boys were halted and it was then discovered the colors were missing." The color-bearer, Geo. H. Davis, of Co. A, had been wounded.
Capt. Place felt, as soldiers should feel, at such a time. And the eyes of Cortland and Madison were upon them. Believing that they had been fired upon by Union troops, Captain Place, with privates Marcus Livingstone of Co. C, and Francis M. Gault of Co. G, went back to find the flag, but they found that the rebels had advanced their lines, and they were soon prisoners.