- Joined
- May 3, 2013
- Location
- Pennsylvania
Father William Corby CSC is better known for his absolution of the men of the Irish Brigade before they went into the Wheatfield on July 2, 1863 at Gettysburg. The following recounts Memoirs of Chaplain Life: Three Years with the Irish Brigade in the Army of the Potomac published in 1893.
"Our brave Gen. McClellan overtook the Confederates at South Mountain, on September 14, 1862, and badly worsted them. It became our turn to lead the army next day. We were in advance of all, and, as we dashed along, following the retreating Confederate forces, we saw, on every side, men and horses, dead and dying. I dismounted occasionally, and when I found men still living, did what I could for them. If Catholics, I heard their confessions, and if Protestants, baptized them, as individual cases required. Following up a routed and retreating army is very exciting. The men seemed to be wild in their pursuit of the Confederates. Finally we came up to Antietam. This stream empties, not very far from where we were, into the Potomac River. Here Lee took a stand. On September 16, 1862, no great fighting was done, except a fearful cannon duel. Next morning, September 17, the battle opened. The Confederates outnumbered McClellan's force, and, besides, they had the choice of position. Our brigade received orders to go in "double quick," that is, on a full run. I gave rein to my horse and let him go at full gallop till I reached the front of the brigade, and, passing along the line, told the men to make an Act of Contrition. As they were coming toward me, "double quick," I had time only to wheel my horse for an instant toward them and gave my poor men a hasty absolution, and rode on with Gen. Meagher into the battle. In twenty or thirty minutes after this absolution, 506 of these very men lay on the field, either dead or seriously wounded. Gen. Meagher's horse, a beautiful bright bay, was shot under him, and also the horse of the notorious Jack Gasson. I shall never forget how wicked the whiz of the enemy's bullets seemed as we advanced into that battle. As soon as my men began to fall, I dismounted and began to hear their confessions on the spot. It was then I felt the danger even more than when dashing into battle. Every instant bullets whizzed past my head, any one of which, if it had struck me, would have been sufficient to leave me dead on the spot, with many of my brave soldiers, as the bullets came from the Confederates at very close range. All the wounded of our brigade, numbering hundreds, were carried to a large straw-stack, which had to answer for a hospital. Here they had dry straw at least; but during the day, as all could not get into the shadow of the stack, the hot sun made it very uncomfortable for them. Here I saw one poor man with a bullet in his forehead, and his brains protruding from the hole made by the ball. Strange to say, he lived three days, but was speechless and deaf, and had lost his senses entirely. I attended another, a well-built man, in the full vigor of manhood, and about thirty years of age. A ball had passed directly through his body. He lived but two days, and died in great agony.
McClellan defeated the Confederates, who sustained a terrible loss, and then marched on and took possession of Harper's Ferry. I remained behind several days with the wounded. The next day after the battle I had a small hut erected near the straw-stack, celebrated Mass, and gave Holy Communion to all who were prepared. In doing so, I was obliged to carry it to them, as they lay here and there on the straw, unable to move—stepping over some, and walking around others. Those ready to receive were pointed out by a good soldier, or each made a sign for himself. Those who died were buried on the field, and the wounded were removed to the city, where they could be more easily cared for. A glance over this battle-field—that will ever occupy a prominent page in the history of our nation—shows that the battle was a terrible one in more than one sense. First, 500 pieces of artillery were engaged, and, counting both sides, about one hundred and seventy thousand men. Had the Confederates been successful —as they would have been if opposed by a less skillful general than McClellan—it is hard to say what would have been the result. The field presented a sickening sight the day after the battle—on September 18, 1862. Meagher's brigade did its duty as a military body, and received the highest commendation from Gen. McClellan—and from many historians since. Gen. McClellan, in a long report of its charge and other action during the battle, says, among many other words of praise: "The Irish Brigade sustained its well-earned reputation."
Having passed several days in doing all that I could for the wounded men, finding my services no longer required, I moved on to join my command at Harper's Ferry. …."
"Our brave Gen. McClellan overtook the Confederates at South Mountain, on September 14, 1862, and badly worsted them. It became our turn to lead the army next day. We were in advance of all, and, as we dashed along, following the retreating Confederate forces, we saw, on every side, men and horses, dead and dying. I dismounted occasionally, and when I found men still living, did what I could for them. If Catholics, I heard their confessions, and if Protestants, baptized them, as individual cases required. Following up a routed and retreating army is very exciting. The men seemed to be wild in their pursuit of the Confederates. Finally we came up to Antietam. This stream empties, not very far from where we were, into the Potomac River. Here Lee took a stand. On September 16, 1862, no great fighting was done, except a fearful cannon duel. Next morning, September 17, the battle opened. The Confederates outnumbered McClellan's force, and, besides, they had the choice of position. Our brigade received orders to go in "double quick," that is, on a full run. I gave rein to my horse and let him go at full gallop till I reached the front of the brigade, and, passing along the line, told the men to make an Act of Contrition. As they were coming toward me, "double quick," I had time only to wheel my horse for an instant toward them and gave my poor men a hasty absolution, and rode on with Gen. Meagher into the battle. In twenty or thirty minutes after this absolution, 506 of these very men lay on the field, either dead or seriously wounded. Gen. Meagher's horse, a beautiful bright bay, was shot under him, and also the horse of the notorious Jack Gasson. I shall never forget how wicked the whiz of the enemy's bullets seemed as we advanced into that battle. As soon as my men began to fall, I dismounted and began to hear their confessions on the spot. It was then I felt the danger even more than when dashing into battle. Every instant bullets whizzed past my head, any one of which, if it had struck me, would have been sufficient to leave me dead on the spot, with many of my brave soldiers, as the bullets came from the Confederates at very close range. All the wounded of our brigade, numbering hundreds, were carried to a large straw-stack, which had to answer for a hospital. Here they had dry straw at least; but during the day, as all could not get into the shadow of the stack, the hot sun made it very uncomfortable for them. Here I saw one poor man with a bullet in his forehead, and his brains protruding from the hole made by the ball. Strange to say, he lived three days, but was speechless and deaf, and had lost his senses entirely. I attended another, a well-built man, in the full vigor of manhood, and about thirty years of age. A ball had passed directly through his body. He lived but two days, and died in great agony.
McClellan defeated the Confederates, who sustained a terrible loss, and then marched on and took possession of Harper's Ferry. I remained behind several days with the wounded. The next day after the battle I had a small hut erected near the straw-stack, celebrated Mass, and gave Holy Communion to all who were prepared. In doing so, I was obliged to carry it to them, as they lay here and there on the straw, unable to move—stepping over some, and walking around others. Those ready to receive were pointed out by a good soldier, or each made a sign for himself. Those who died were buried on the field, and the wounded were removed to the city, where they could be more easily cared for. A glance over this battle-field—that will ever occupy a prominent page in the history of our nation—shows that the battle was a terrible one in more than one sense. First, 500 pieces of artillery were engaged, and, counting both sides, about one hundred and seventy thousand men. Had the Confederates been successful —as they would have been if opposed by a less skillful general than McClellan—it is hard to say what would have been the result. The field presented a sickening sight the day after the battle—on September 18, 1862. Meagher's brigade did its duty as a military body, and received the highest commendation from Gen. McClellan—and from many historians since. Gen. McClellan, in a long report of its charge and other action during the battle, says, among many other words of praise: "The Irish Brigade sustained its well-earned reputation."
Having passed several days in doing all that I could for the wounded men, finding my services no longer required, I moved on to join my command at Harper's Ferry. …."