fully, making many a poor fellow bite the dust. So far as I can judge, our Brigade was in the hottest fire of the battle, and the wonder is that the Regiment was not entirely cut to pieces. As it is we have to report 137 of our Regiment among the killed, wounded and missing, out of less than 600 who went into the fight.

The newspapers will give you a pretty accurate account of the movements of our Division, (Humphrey's) Butterfield's Corps, (Fifth) and Hooker's Grand Division, on that day, and with the aid of maps you can get a very fair idea of the action.

We broke camp early on the morning of the 11th, and were to have been at the river, ready to cross by 9 A. M. The cannonading commenced long before the break of day, principally from our side, for the purpose of clearing the opposite bank of the enemy's sharpshooters, so as to enable us to throw the bridges across the river. The attempt was fruitless for a long time, until several boats, filled with volunteers from the different Regiments, pushed themselves across right in the face of the enemy, and soon had the bank of the river and houses near by cleared of the rebel sharpshooters. A good deal of fighting took place in the streets, but the rebels finally took to their heels. It was nearly dark, however, by the time this was effected, and in the meantime the air was filled with the roar of the artillery. We encamped about one and a half miles from the river, on the hard frozen ground, with nothing over us but the clear, blue sky, and by the time morning came we were all pretty well chilled. We started early in the morning again, and moved forward nearly a mile when we halted. The large number of troops in advance of us, and the resistance met with on the other side, made our movements very slow. We bivouacked for the night in a pine woods, where we were almost suffocated and blinded by the smoke. During the whole of the day the cannonading was continuous, and every now and then we could distinguish the sharp rattle of musketry. Dense clouds of smoke hung over the town and about the batteries of the enemy and our own. The town itself had been fired in a dozen different places and was burning furiously. The sight from the hill where we were encamped, was magnificent. We could see from right to left of the whole line of batteries, where the contest raged most furiously.

Next morning we moved on again, with our whole Division, towards the middle pontoon bridge. The cannonading had become more furious than ever, and the continued volleys of musketry told that the infantry were at last engaged in close combat. We crossed the river about noon, and the rebels commenced to pepper us with ball and shell from the batteries beyond the town, though without doing us any more damage, than giving us lessons in the art of dodging. We had become so well accustomed to the sound and to the shells flying about our heads, that no confusion was created in the ranks. As we got into the streets of the town, where we marched and countermarched for an hour and more, the shell fell fast and furiously about us, shattering the buildings and creating havoc all around. Here I saw the first man killed. He belonged to the One Hundred and Thirty-fourth Pennsylvania Volunteers, and was not more than thirty feet from me when he was struck. He was almost cut into two. He threw up his hands, exclaiming, "Oh, my God! take me," and expired almost immediately. I have no doubt the sight of this made some of the boys feel a little queer-a little qualmish-as though playing with such balls was not exactly such harmless sport as many of them had imagined. We deposited our knapsacks and blankets in one of the buildings of the town and then moved on towards the out

skirts of the town, by a road leading directly from the river to the bluff or high eminence on which most of the enemy's batteries were posted. This hill extends in the rear of the town from the river along the whole length of the town and still further both on the right and left, and is perhaps three-fourths of a mile from the town. After getting beyond the outskirts of the town, we arrived at a marshy place, near an old tanyard, protected from the principal battery in front by a rise in the ground behind which we lay, but in full view from the batteries on the right. We were not here more than a minute, when from the position where I stood (on my horse) I could see the smoke belching out from the battery on the right, and I could see the shell come whizzing right down into our ranks, where it exploded, killing several and wounding others. I could see them drawing the cannon back, reloading it, and firing again. The shots were well directed each time, and two of them came uncomfortably close. They had full chance for sweeping and raking us where we lay, and we thought it about time to look for better quarters. It looked fearful to see them loading the guns, running them out, firing them, and then see the balls come plunging along almost in a direct line for one's self-and it required more cool courage to witness this without flinching, than afterward to go into the charge, where everything was excitement and uproar. Lieutenant Parvin, Company B, was mortally wounded here. He has since died-his father I think, lives in Reading. We moved out from this position, and took our position in line of battle on the left of the road, behind a battery which was playing most vigorously on the enemy in front. The position was nevertheless a dangerous one, for the shot and shell fell around us and burst over our heads, every now and then stretching some soldier lifeless on the ground. Here we lay until it began to grow dusk, when a charge was ordered for the purpose of capturing a stone wall about two hundred yards ahead of us, and behind which the rebels lay, pouring in a destructive fire, and the cannoniers working the batteries were fearfully exposed to the shots from the enemy's batteries posted behind the stone wall, about half way up the hill, and from accounts since received, their forces lay thick behind the wall and in a piece of woods running towards the top of the hill. The famous stone wall itself ran along the foot of the hill, and afforded safe protection to a large body of the enemy. In addition to this were the rifle-pits constructed in front, and the numerous batteries which covered the hill, and you have an idea of the terrible difficulties to be surmounted, and the fearfulness and rashness of the charge to be made in order to capture these works. Several attempts had been made during the day to capture them, but without success, and the ground over which we charged, besides being very muddy, was strewn with the dead and dying who had fallen in the previous attempts.

When the order to charge was given, we moved forward with a loud burrah, and charged at a run, with bayonets fixed, over the gently rising plain towards the enemy. Our line was well preserved, even though we were obliged to pass over two other Regiments lying down, and cross a fence that stood in our way. Immediately the batteries began to play upon us from every side, and there was a continuous line of fire from the top of the stone wall right into our ranks. How the bullets whistled and hissed about our heads, and the shell exploded right in our midst. Nothing could withstand that withering line of fire. Men fell around me on all sides, and it seemed almost a miracle that I was untouched. The line was kept in as good order as was possible under the circumstances. We advanced to within a short distance of the wall-perhaps

fifty or seventy-five yards-and then flesh and blood could stand it no longer. The line began to waver and part-our advance was checked. We could not keep the gaps in the ranks filled up. The officers did their best to urge the men forward, but it was worse than useless, as nothing but death stared them in the face. We began to retire, and the enemy seeing this, poured in a more destructive fire thap ever. Still there was no panic among the men, and although some confusion occurred in the ranks, we retired slowly and deliberately to our first position, where we formed once more, ready to meet an attack from the enemy, which we fully expected after our repulse. Had they attempted it, they would have found us prepared to receive them with unbroken ranks. By this time it had grown quite dark; still the rattle of musketry and the thundering of the cannon continued until long after. The charge our Brigade had made was the most spirited of the whole day, and we advanced nearer the enemy's position than any other troops. From the time we first started on the charge to the time we returned, was scarcely more than fifteen or twenty minutes; yet in that short time one hundred and thirty-seven of our men had fallen, either killed, wounded, or afterwards discovered to be among the missing. Nine officers of the Regiment were either killed or wounded, and, so far as I know, there was not one who faltered or hung back. Our Colonel exposed himself fearlessly, keeping the line in good order, and cheering the men forward in that fearful advance; and afterwards, when we were compelled to retire, restored the line once more, so as to be prepared for any movement of the enemy. We remained in this position until long after dark, and the firing had almost entirely ceased-a few stray shots from the pickets were all that could be heard.

Late at night we moved back to town and rested for a time on the sidewalk of one of the streets, tired, weary and dirty. We were called into line again after midnight, and once more moved out to the field. It presented a terrible sight. The dead lay all around us, in every conceivable position, the groans of the wounded and dying filled the airone poor fellow, who had a terrible wound in the side, begged to be shot so as to put him out of his misery-another young soldier was talking incoherently of his mother and his home, whilst another still was uttering fearful imprecations. You could also hear the groans of the rebel wounded, as they lay behind the stone wall. Broken muskets were strewn over the ground-some of the dead held their guns firmly in their hands, as though unwilling to give them up, though the power to use them had long since departed, and they had been summoned to another land, far away. It was a sight never to be forgotten. We lay in our old position until morning, wet, cold and hungry, and then moved back again to the town, having been relieved by other troops. We found shelter in some of the deserted houses. The Field and Staff of the Regiment procured ample accommodations in the "Planters' Hotel"-a fine three-story brick-we occupied the "ladies' parlor," had fine mattresses to sleep or, an old fashioned piano to discourse sweet music, plenty of flour in the larder, out of which we baked slap-jacks," an abundance of kitchen utensils, enough to supply several Regiments. The accommodations were extensive and the food very good for soldiers accustomed to nothing but hard bread and salt pork. The place had evidently been left very hastily, just before breakfast time, for the table was set, the spoons in the sugar-bowls, the cups and saucers ready to be filled, with rye coffee, I presume, and the table-cloth spread. I did not get there in time to see what kind of meats or preserves the proprie

tor had intended to regale his guests with that morning, probably, however, the usual beefsteak was on the table, with corncakes, "hog and hominy." Here we remained until Monday night, when we were ordered out on picket, and set to work digging trenches, rifle-pits, breastworks, &c. We expected hot work next morning, and worked like beavers to put ourselves in proper condition to receive the rebs. At about 1 o'clock we were relieved and marched down to the lower part of the town, where we remained for several hours. We wondered what it all meant, though we had a suspicion that an evacuation was intended. About 4 o'clock we received orders to move, and were marched directly across the river to this side, without giving us any opportunity of getting the knapsacks, blankets, or tents of the men. We trudged along through the rain and mud, and at last reached an old camp. It has been intensely cold ever since, and the men have suffered terribly without shelter and without blankets.

THE OFFICIAL REPORT OF COLONEL FRICK.

The following is the official report of Colonel Jacob G. Frick of the conduct of the Regiment, with the casualties sustained by the command:

HEADQUARTERS 129TH REGIMENT, P. V.,

Camp near Fredericksburg, Va., December 17, 1862.}

CAPTAIN: In compliance with instructions from headquarters First Brigade, I have the honor to make the following report of the casualties of my Regiment in the "Battle of Fredericksburg," December 13, 1862, and as required by paragraph 465, Revised Army Regulations:

Officers Killed.

Lieutenant J. Parvin, Company B.
Officers Wounded.

Captain Lawrence, Company A.

Captain L. C. Leib, Company G. William Wren, Company B. Lieut. A. A. Luckenbach, Co. C.

J. K. Taylor, Company C.
Herbert Thomas, Co. D.
E. G. Rehrer, Company E.