Ozaukee County's
War History
by Daniel E. McGinley

as extracted from THE PORT WASHINGTON STAR
September 26, 1896



The Ozaukee Rifles
Chapter 14

A bright, clear dawn on the 21st of July, ë64 ushered in a day that will long be remembered in many Wisconsin homes as the day upon which the Twelfth and Sixteenth Wisconsin regiments, by a heroic and brilliant assault, captured the rebelsí works on Bald Hill, near Atlanta, Ga., a position which, held by these two regiments and a battery, saved the Army of the Tennessee from disaster on the following day when it became the centre of one of the fiercest and most sanguinary battles of the war. Nearly one hundred brave Badger boys died on Bald Hill, and the mention of its name awakens pride in the breasts of hundreds of veterans and sorrow in many a fireside.

Our boys were awake at an early hour on the morning of the 21st, and the bullets were ìzippingî and ìspattingî around so thickly that the boys after hastily eating their breakfasts, set to work building a line of breastworks. Soon axes, shovels, picks and other tools were flying, while some of the boys, including the writer, went out to a fence near the edge of the clearing to get rails with which to build the revetment. Reaching the fence we had a good view of the scene in our front, and were greatly surprised to see that we were quite close to the enemy's main line. A small stream flowed along the edge of the timber, its banks thickly covered with willow and laurel bushes in which our skirmishers were hidden. On the top of a hill, about 60 rods distant and 40 or 50 feet above us, was the rebelsí main line of works, swarming with boys in grey, while nearer on the brow of the hill was a line of rifle-pits, from which their skirmishers sent well directed shots, wounding one of our skirmishers while we were there. From the creek the ascent of the hill was quite steep for a few rods, and then sloped gradually to the crest, leaving a swell in the side of the hill that no doubt saved many lives in our line that day. Directly in front of our regiment a small frame farm house stood near and in front of the main line on the hill, and on the slope near it was a garden of an acre or two in extent, enclosed by a picket fence, the posts, rails and pickets of which were solid oak. In front of the Twelfth a small strip of timber stretched down the northern slope and hid the enemy's works at that point. The field had been planted in corn which was then two to three feet high, and having been lately cultivated and hoed into hills the ground was not favorable for easy walking, let alone running.

At 7:30 A.M. we were ordered to ìfall in without knapsacks,î and dropping our entrenching tools we hastily buckled on our ìtrapsî and formed in line in the rear of our partially constructed works. Very few of the boys had any idea or forewarning of the desperate struggle into which they were soon to plunge, and the joke and laugh, in a quiet way, was being passed around as usual, but when the field officers took their places on foot and ordered the men to see that every gun was loaded and ready for business, there was more than one sober face in the line. The color bearers unfurled their flags and coolly prepared for action. Sergt. Charles Richardson, of Co. G, and one of the original members, was the bearer of Old Glory, and Corporal Pat. Keogh, of the same company, and a survivor of the Ozaukee Rifles, carried the blue state flag. A braver pair of standard bearers never went into battle.

It was about 8 o'clock when the command ìforwardî was given, and stepping over the works, the brigade advanced to the attack in the customary two lines of battle, the two Wisconsin regiments forming the first line, the Twelfth on the right of the Sixteenth, and the Twentieth, Thirtieth and Thirty-first Illinois in the second line. The balance of the division acted as a supporting column, and the Iowa brigade of the 4th division made a strong feint on our right. Our lines were broken while crossing the creek and getting through the bushes on its banks, and a halt was ordered on the further side to reform and ìdressî our line.

We were now in the open field and in plain sight of the enemy's main line, into which our skirmishers had driven theirs, and which greeted our appearance with a shower of lead, but owing to the swell in the slope they could only see our heads and their bullets flew harmlessly over our heads. But the regiment coolly ìdressedî its line, and then the voice of Col. Fairchild was heard shouting: ìFix bayonets!î At this moment Gen. Force rode up in the rear of our company and said in a quiet way: ìNow, boys, do your best marching!î Our company being the first on the left of the colors, and the writer being near its right was consequently in a good position to see what was going on. Again the Colonel was heard shouting commands the last of which was: ìForward, guide right, double quick, march!î and the two regiments sprang forward and swept up the hill with a cheer or rather a yell, that rose for a minute or two above the din of battle. But the cheers did not last long; it was very hard work running up that hill over the loose corn hills, and the boys soon found they needed all the wind they could muster to bear them up.

On, on, up through the cornfield sweeps that gallant line of blue-coated Badger boys, keeping an excellent line and presenting an unbroken front of glistening steel. The enemy's works are now fully manned; a constant sheet of flame plays along the parapet; the smoke rolls up in clouds, and bullets rain down on our devoted line. Soon our line passes over the prostrate forms of our skirmishers, who lay on the swell of the slope, and the right centre of regiment reaches the garden fence. The boys find it impossible to force their way through the oaken fence, they cannot knock off the pickets with the butts of their guns and file to the right and left of the garden, Co. E, the color company, filing to the left and causing a crowd of men to gather in the rear of our colors. Here the enemy's fire does fearful execution and our boys fall thick and fast.

Near the left of our company, brave, jovial ìBobî Coleman, of Port Ulao, is pierced through the heart by a minie, and throwing up his gun over his head and shouting, ìHurrah for the Stars and Stripes!î falls dead. The comrade at my left elbow, manly little Charley Thomas, of Saukville, drops his gun, sinks upon his knees and presses his hands to his abdomen. I pause long enough to ask: ìCharley, are you hit?î and to receive his faint answer: ìYes, -- I -- am -- killed!î and then start ahead again as Charley sinks dying in the arms of his file-closer. The pause, short as it was, has left me several steps in the rear of the line, and I hurry to regain my place. As I near the colors, Keogh, who has been a pace or two in advance of the line, carrying the colors in his left hand while he swings his hat in his right and cheers the boys on, plunges forward and falls upon his flag. But as I come up to him, he starts to regain his feet, and thinking that he has merely stumbled over some obstruction, I pass him and keep on with the line. But Keogh has been badly wounded and is unable to raise the flag. Oren Hugaboom, of Co. E, and one of the color guard springs to his assistance and grasps the flag-staff, but before he can raise the colors he too is pierced by a minie, and falls mortally wounded. By this time, all except the officers have passed and left the wounded color-bearers in the rear, but little Lieut. Tom McCauley of the original Co. G, is near, and catching up the flag he wrenches it from Keogh's grasp (for though sorely wounded, Keogh thinks he can still carry it), and bears it through the remainder of the assault.

Forward sweeps the blue line through that merciless storm of lead in which men are constantly falling, and soon it is on the top of the hill on a level with the enemy's works a few yards away. The scene at this moment is simply terrific; the works are almost entirely hidden from view by clouds of smoke through which sheets of flame flash, and from which the unceasing rain of bullets tear through our line. But there is no faltering or hesitating in that heroic line of blue, for it well knows the sooner it reaches those works the less lives will be lost on its side. But when the line reaches the edge of the smoke, it suddenly parts or lifts, disclosing a line of grim faces behind the works, and a number of the boys cannot resist the temptation to pause long enough to throw their guns to their shoulders and fire a volley at those faces, ere they go at them with the bayonet. As they fire the tall, heroic form of Capt. Wheeler springs in among them, waving his sword and shouting, and in less time than it takes to tell, the line is over the works. The brave defenders of the works who prove to be Gen. Pat. Cleburne's famous fighting division armed with breech-loading rifles, hold their ground with a tenacity of bulldogs, and fight desperately. But the bluecoats climb over the works and for a few moments an indescribable scene of confusion and excitement ensues. Officers and men fight, shout, curse and yell, and a pandemonium seems to have taken possession of Bald Hill.

Some of the rebels throw down their arms and surrender at once; others fight until overpowered; but our bayonets are too much for them, and in a few moments all that can get away are running for their lives. Our boys follow close on their heels shouting: ìSurrender!î ìHalt or I'll fire!î ìHalt, halt you son of a gun!î ìShoot that fellow!î ìBayonet him!î and hundreds of like commands and exclamations. In front of our company is the rebel flag borne by a tall, supple young fellow who does some tall running to get away with it. Lieut. Col. Reynolds shouts: ìSee the colors, boys, shoot him down!î Several level their guns to obey but in the confusion other bluecoats dodge in the way, and the pursuit continues until the color-bearer is wounded and captured by Capt. Rowe, of Co. E., but not until a rebel horseman had taken the colors and galloped away. A number of boys turn their rifles after the fleeing horseman and soon bring down the horse, but the rider escapes with the colors into the timber at the foot of the hill.

Numerous deeds of heroism were performed by individuals that day, notable among which was the capturing of two prisoners by Stewart Daniels, of Grafton. In the chase after the flying enemy, Stewart, who was a good runner, outran his comrades and headed off two of the rebels whom he forced to throw down their guns and surrender.

In a few minutes all the rebels that had not managed to reach the friendly shelter of the timber were in our hands and we were halted at the foot of the hill and ordered to return to the captured works. As we turned to retrace our steps the enemy opened a galling fire from front and flank, one of the bullets plowing its way through both of Capt. Wheeler's legs at the knees, and he was borne from the field, a cripple for life. At the same time the writer received his first introduction to a flying minie, it cutting a piece out of one of his shins making him dance something after the style of a Sioux brave. The line fell back slowly, turning now and then to return the enemy's fire, and reaching the works and finding the supporting line in possession, continued on down the hill to where the first of our comrades fell, where it halted and the boys dropped to the ground nearly exhausted. The day was a very hot one, even for that climate, and as the firing made the heat more intense, the running and fighting had been too much for a number of the boys and many sun-strokes were reported.

Figuring up the results we found that we had routed Pat. Cleburne's famous fighters from a strong position, the possession of which was very valuable to our army, and had captured a large number of prisoners and small arms, but at a great cost. Our regiment taking about 400 into the fight had lost 78 in killed and wounded. The Twelfth Wisconsin lost 140 killed and wounded of the 600 men it had taken into the assault. The loss of the brigade was in the neighborhood of 400 killed and wounded. The Sixteenth lost both its Colonel and Lieut. Colonel, the former opening his Shiloh wound by a fall at the works, and the latter having his thigh bone shattered by a ball after the battle had ended.

The loss of the Ozaukee Rifles was two, Robert A. Coleman and Charles Thomas, killed; and two wounded, Pat. Keogh shot twice through the left arm and Henry Thomas, brother to Charles, wounded in the shoulder by a piece of a shell.

After a short rest, the Illinois boys were moved further to the left and the Wisconsin regiments returned to the captured works which they held for several days. This being the first hard fighting done by the Twelfth, its heavy loss proved what good fighting material it possessed. In this regiment was a company from Washington county, which lost heavily that day.