Company G — Context and Discussion

A Deliberately Unpolished Record

Barlow’s preface is a rare author’s note that foregrounds the book’s limitations. He writes that the work makes “no claim” as a literary effort, only for “general accuracy in the matter of events and dates.” He expects critics to notice his unusual grammar—individualizing a collective noun while retaining plurality, and “pervert[ing] mood and tense.” This is not carelessness but a conscious choice: the unit’s experiences were themselves irregular, so the telling should match. Barlow also states that he has omitted occurrences that “might not be understood by others than the actors,” suggesting that some inside jokes or local references remain unrecorded. The book is explicitly an “offering to comrades,” not a bid for public acclaim.

The Human Cost at Gettysburg

The Gettysburg section provides a stark accounting. Barlow describes the 157th’s remnant lying “very flat” on July 2 under concentrated rebel artillery. A night movement goes wrong: a volley from behind a stone wall, the color-bearer wounded, and Captain Place captured while trying to recover the flag. Barlow lists casualties with precision: two officers and twenty-one men died of wounds, making the casualty list “nearly two hundred and sixty men, and fifteen officers.” He names the dead and wounded—Colonel Arrowsmith, Captains Backus and Frank, Lieutenant Lower—and notes that Captain Stone died in prison at Macon, Georgia. The roll call after the battle: thirty-nine privates, eight corporals, four sergeants. The regiment’s entire strength on July 2 was Colonel Brown, Major Carmichael, three officers, and fifty-six men.

Prisoners and the Fate of the Missing

Barlow tracks the fates of men who were captured, including Francis M. Gault of Company G, who volunteered to accompany Captain Place and was taken. Gault “had a taste of rebel prisons from Richmond to Andersonville,” returning to the company in April 1865. Another soldier, “Schimmel,” was thought dead but emerged “mighty stiff, but otherwise in fair condition” when Union troops reentered the town on July 4. His comrades “wept; they hugged and kissed the little man.” Barlow also notes that three lieutenants were sent to Macon and later to Charleston, South Carolina, where they were “impounded with other officers.” These details underscore the book’s focus on individual soldiers rather than grand strategy.

Readers should approach Company G as a primary source written by a participant who valued accuracy over polish. Barlow’s frankness about his methods—and his admission that some stories were left out because only the actors would understand them—makes the book both frustrating and valuable. The roster at the end provides a concrete link to the men named in the narrative. For those interested in the Civil War from the perspective of a single company, this is a direct, unvarnished account.

Reading Company G, the clipped casualty lists felt like counting stones in a wall. It put me in mind of sitting with my grandfather, who once showed me a ledger from his great-uncle’s fur trade post—small, careful marks for each pelt, each man lost to winter. Pelts and palisades: The story of fur and the rivalry for pelts in early America — Themes and Context whispered the same quiet ache: how meticulously we record what we cannot keep, hoping the ink holds the warmth.