On September 5 it was definitely rumored in camp that the enemy had crossed into Maryland by way of Edward's Ferry. All of the Army of the Potomac were soon after moving up the river toward Darnestown, where a defensive position was taken and the enemy's movements awaited. There were no further developments until the 10th, when an order came from General McClellan to store in Washington all of the officers' baggage and the company tents and property, and turn over the teams to be used in hauling provisions and ammunition. This looked more like business than anything we had yet seen.
The next morning we began to move in earnest, passing through Darnestown, and on toward Frederick City. On the 12th we made a long march to Ijamsville, where we heard from one party of citizens that the enemy were evacuating FrederickCity, and from another that they were preparing to fight us at the crossing of the Monocacy River. In the morning, we were early on the road, marching rapidly to the ford of the Monocacy, and crossing without trouble. As we approached Frederick, we could hear the firing of the advance of Burnside's Corps, as they were driving the rear guard of the retreating enemy from the passes of the Catoctin Mountains, about five miles west of the city. Over 800 prisoners were sent back that day, mostly stragglers and deserters, who had soldiered as long as they wished.
That night we camped near Frederick City, a large portion of our Regiment taking advantage of the opportunity to visit old friends and acquaintances in that place. We had been there so long during the past year that it seemed to us almost like home. The Confederates had been in possession for nearly a week, and many stories were told of the good people who had displayed their loyalty under adverse circumstances. The real heroine of the town was old Barbara Fritchie, who had kept a Union flag waving from her window during all the time of the Confederate occupation.Her name has been immortalized by Whittier. I know that in recent years it has been said that no such person ever lived, and that the flag was not displayed. But I heard the story told within twenty-four hours after the Confederate army had left Frederick, from persons who knew the circumstances, and I am going to believe it until there is more positive proof than I have yet seen, that it is not true.
We were ready to march by four o'clock on the morning of the 14th. But we might as well have stayed in camp until seven. The road west from Frederick was a fine, broad turnpike, wide enough for two or three wagons abreast, but it was now completely choked with the ammunition and provision wagons of the troops in advance. Even after we did finally get started, and were clear of the town, we had to march through the fields and woods on either side of the road.
When we reached the top of the Catoctin Mountains, we could hear the sound of artillery and musketry fire on the next mountain ridge beyond.Occasionally we could even catch a glimpse of the lines of our troops as they moved up the slopes to assault the position of the enemy. We were now rapidly marched down the mountain and turned off by a circuitous route to the right, in order to strike the enemy on the left flank. Before we could reach their position, however, it had already been carried by assault, and the enemy had taken advantage of the darkness to make good their retreat. Such was the battle of South Mountain.
We now countermarched to the turnpike near Middletown, where we went into camp at one o'clock in the morning. We had been on the road for twenty-two consecutive hours, most of the time climbing over rocks and through brush on the mountain side. Again we were on the march, at eight o'clock the next morning, crossing South Mountain as we had crossed the Catoctin Mountains, with the wagon train occupying the road and the troops in the woods along the side. We passed through Boonsborough in the afternoon, and by night had reached nearly to Keedysville.
The road was strewn with the muskets and other accoutrements of the enemy fleeing fromSouth Mountain, together with a great deal of plunder that they had gathered in Maryland. There was every indication that they had retreated in a state of demoralization. The houses in Boonsborough and the vicinity were filled with their wounded, and we were constantly meeting squads of from twenty to one hundred prisoners who were being sent back from the front. Occasional artillery firing in the front seemed to indicate that we were being waited for not far ahead.
On the morning of the 16th we moved forward to a position behind a range of low hills near Antietam Creek, and there we remained until night, undisturbed save by occasional shots from the enemy's batteries, posted in the hills on the opposite side of the creek. The remainder of our army kept coming up all day, taking position as they arrived, until at night it was understood that they were all at hand with the exception of Franklin's Corps, which had gone to the relief of Harpers Ferry. At about nine o'clock we were called up and moved across Antietam Creek, closeto the enemy's lines, where we lay down to secure such rest as we might in preparation for the next day's fight. General Hooker's Corps lay in position, just in front of us.
It was reported that night that Harpers Ferry had been surrendered by Colonel Miles without a struggle, and when the relieving force of General Franklin was within three miles. It was rumored also that Miles had been shot by the men of his own command when they learned that they had been surrendered.
We were awakened soon after daylight by the sound of heavy cannonading in the front. It had been raining during the night, but now the sky was clear and the sun shining. The men hurried into the ranks, and the Corps formed in close column by companies. We moved a short distance to the right, then sat down to await developments. As battery after battery came into action, the artillery firing continually increased in rapidity, until for a few minutes the roar would be continuous. Then there would be a lull, and the sharp crack of the musketry would be heard, as the skirmishers pushed forward through the timber. Now thescattering musketry fire increased into crashing volleys; as more and more troops became engaged, the volleys developed into one continuous roar, like the roll of distant thunder.
Within a few minutes we became aware by sight, as well as by sound, that a bloody battle was in progress; a constant stream of wounded men was coming back to the field hospital in the rear. Many were but slightly wounded and still clung to their muskets as they hurried back to have their wounds dressed. They would stop on their way, for a moment, hastily to tell how they were "driving the Johnnies" in the front. Others, more seriously hurt, were being helped along by comrades; while others, still more unfortunate, lay silent on stretchers as they were borne back by ambulance men and musicians. Soon, a number of ammunition wagons which had ventured too close to the front, came dashing by us to seek shelter behind a neighboring hill. They were followed shortly after by a dismounted cannon being dragged back for repairs. Now came a temporary lull in the musketry. The thunder of the artillery increased as if in compensation; but rising above all camethe cheers of our comrades in the front, announcing that the opening engagement had ended in victory.
The pause in the musketry was of short duration. The enemy, largely reënforced, soon attacked in their turn, making desperate efforts to regain the ground that they had lost. Upon our side, more troops to the right and left came into action, and the battle was soon raging again with redoubled fury. The enemy in our immediate front seemed to have largely increased their artillery, and scattering shot and shell were dropping around us.
At length our First Brigade was sent into action. We soon followed, at double-quick, in close column by companies. Passing rapidly through the woods, we emerged upon the field a little northeast of the old Dunkard church, and our Regiment deployed in line. The manœuvre was executed as though we had been on a parade ground instead of a battle-field. I have seldom seen it better done.
Immediately on our right and about one hundred yards to the front, was posted one of our batteries of twelve-pound brass guns. It had evidently been in action for some time. All of itshorses were killed or crippled, and the gunners were just falling back before the advancing Confederate line of battle. To the left of the battery, and stretching off to the woods directly in our front, stood the remnants of a brigade, still stubbornly contesting the advance of the enemy's infantry. Our Regiment moved forward to the battery, the artillerymen at the same time returning to their guns. The Second Massachusetts took position to the right; the Twenty-Seventh Indiana came up on the left.
The Confederate infantry moved steadily across the corn-field, while the decimated brigade in its path fell back, step by step. We were obliged to wait before commencing fire, until they could be moved out of the way. Then we opened fire from one end of the line to the other. The enemy were handicapped by the fact that they were moving diagonally across our front, instead of directly toward us, and our fire was terribly severe, so it was not long before they broke and ran back to the woods. Immediately, however, another line was coming up, this time confrontingus squarely. And now commenced the work in earnest.
Our position was in a stubble-field. The ground in front of us sloped gently downward, so that we were fifteen or twenty feet higher than the enemy. About a hundred yards in our front was a rail fence, beyond which lay another open field. The previous day, that field had contained a luxuriant growth of ripening corn; now it was cut by bullets and trampled by men and horses, until scarce a vestige of the crop remained.
For a time, the enemy came on rapidly, without firing a shot. Their right, like our left, was "in the air" and about even with us. They were as gallant fellows as ever moved to an assault. One could but admire the steady courage with which they approached us; great gaps being made in their lines at every discharge of our grape- and canister-laden twelve-pounders, and our bullets also wore them away at every step. A portion of these stern fighters reached the fence; none came farther. They there stopped and opened fire on our lines. From our higher ground we could see the steady stream of their wounded being helpedto the rear. Still they held on, returning fire for fire; and we too were suffering terribly. At length the Confederates had been reduced to a mere handful; it was hopeless to hold on any longer, and they fell back toward the woods. But before they had reached there, another of their brigades was coming up behind them. The newcomers, however, halted and opened fire at nearly double the distance that their predecessors had taken. Soon they also began to waver, then suddenly broke, and joined their comrades in the flight to the woods.
As they all disappeared toward the timber, General Hooker rode up and ordered us to fix bayonets and pursue. With a whoop and hurrah our Regiment and the Twenty-Seventh Indiana started down through the corn-field, General Hooker himself leading like a captain. It was such traits as this that made him popular, even with those who did not think him fit for high command. We had passed fairly into the corn-field, which was literally strewn with the dead bodies of Confederates, when a staff officer rode up, and ordered us to get out of the way, for General Sumnerwished to put in a division at that point. This was all that prevented us from assaulting a position with about a hundred and fifty men, which a few minutes later Sedgwick's Division, with five or six thousand, failed to carry.
We moved back out of the corn-field to our old position, and immediately after Sedgwick's Division came in from the northeast. As they moved forward in perfect line to the attack, they presented a splendid sight, even to old soldiers, and we had little doubt that they would sweep everything before them. They marched in three parallel lines, one behind the other, and about seventy-five yards apart. The brigade and field officers, aware of the peculiar danger of being on horseback in such a place, all marched with their men on foot. The only mounted officer in the entire division was old General Sumner himself, who rode a little in the rear of his first line. He was then nearly seventy years of age, perfectly grey but still proudly erect. As he stretched his tall form to its full height on his horse, in order to see what might be in front of his men, he was the most conspicuous object on the field, and undoubtedlywas the target for every Confederate sharpshooter in sight.
No resistance of consequence was met until the advance brigade was out of sight in the woods, and the Second Brigade was just at the edge. Then a heavy musketry fire showed that the enemy had reformed their lines and were making a stubborn fight. Their artillery also now opened fire, and shells and round shot began to fall in our neighborhood. It soon became evident to us, who were spectators of the fight, that General Sumner's formation had been a serious mistake. His second and third brigades were exposed to a heavy fire from the enemy, yet they could not reply on account of the line in front of them. They soon broke up in confusion, therefore, and fell back out of range. The leading brigade held on for over half an hour, to the position that it had gained in the woods, when it also fell back, with but a small portion of the magnificent line which a short time before had so gallantly gone forward to the attack.
The remnant of our Regiment, together with portions of several other like commands, were nowstationed at the edge of the woods behind a battery of artillery. There was little more active fighting, however, in that part of the field during the remainder of the day. At one time the enemy made an attempt to recover the lost ground in the corn-field, but the batteries easily drove them back to the woods. Soon after twelve o'clock we were relieved by fresh troops and moved a short distance to the rear. With the friendly aid of a rail fence we now built a fire, and prepared our dinner of hardtack and coffee, and remained quiet for the rest of the day. To the left the firing continued until late in the afternoon.
Many of our gallant boys laid down their lives that bloody day on the battle-field of Antietam. In the morning, our Regiment had taken into the fight twelve officers and not quite 300 enlisted men. The number was thus small because our wounded from Cedar Mountain had not yet rejoined us, and hard marching had sent others to the hospital. Of the twelve officers, we lost one killed and seven severely wounded. The Colonel had been hit in the head by a bullet, which had cut just deep enough to draw blood; while I hadreceived a severe bruise from a spent ball. Of our 300 privates, we lost 194 in killed and wounded. The Twenty-Seventh Indiana on our left, had lost about half of its men; the Second Massachusetts on the right, had suffered in about the same proportion.
In my Company, of the thirty men whom I took into the field, two had been killed, two mortally wounded, and sixteen so severely hurt, that they were ordered to the hospital. Of all that Company, only one had escaped without the mark of a bullet upon his person or his clothes. Every one of our color-guard, composed of a corporal from each company, had been shot down before the battle was over. As its bearers fell, the flag had been passed along the line until it had come into the hands of one of my privates, Joseph Collins, who carried it the remainder of the day. The color-bearers of the enemy had been even more unfortunate. On our charge into the corn-field, our men picked up several of their banners that had fallen with their bearers.
When night at length put a merciful end to the battle, all along the line, both thoroughly-worn-outarmies were, I am sure, glad for the chance to rest. I know that I, for one, was completely exhausted. The sun had scarcely set before I had wrapped myself in my overcoat, and with my haversack for a pillow, was sound asleep, quite oblivious of the fact that the field of the dead was only a few steps away. In the morning we were early astir expecting a renewal of the fight. Our men threw away all of their old muskets, and armed themselves with the new Springfield rifles of the improved pattern, picked up on the battle-field. Ammunition and rations were issued, and every preparation made to receive the enemy. All was quiet, however, and so remained for the rest of the day. At about noon, General Franklin's Corps came up from Harpers Ferry and took position on our right.
During that afternoon I went over the corn-field that had been the scene of the hardest fighting the previous day. It was a sight which once seen could never be forgotten. The dead lay as they had fallen, and in such dreadful numbers! Several times had the ground been fought over; the bodies of brave men were so thickly strewn over it,that one might for rods have walked on corpses without touching the ground.
When we advanced our lines, the morning of the 19th, the enemy had disappeared. Only his picket line still remained, and that surrendered without resistance. These prisoners appeared to be dazed with discouragement; many of them seemed glad to have been taken. Like the thousands whom we had captured during the heat of the battle, they were destitute of clothing, and their haversacks contained nothing but raw corn.
So far as we were concerned, the battle of Antietam ended active campaigning for the winter of 1862. During the next two months we moved about between Harpers Ferry and the mouth of Antietam Creek, doing occasional guard duty, and for the most part passing the time uneventfully. On October 1 President Lincoln visited our camp at Maryland Heights. It seemed to me that he did full justice to his reputation for homeliness. He came entirely unannounced, but we hurriedly turned out the Regiment and presented arms. Fora time, on account of their greenness, the new regiments in camp furnished a source of amusement. Most of them had received large bounties on enlistment, and the old soldiers taunted them as bounty-bought; they were told that the Government could have secured mules much cheaper.
On November 13 came my commission as First Lieutenant of Company E. This did not materially change my position, for I had been in command of a company ever since the battle of Antietam. On November 17 we went into winter camp at Fairfax Station, but sometime in January removed to Stafford Court House. In the meantime McClellan had been finally removed from the command of the Army of the Potomac; and Burnside, who had followed him, had in his turn, been relieved after the battle of Fredericksburg, by General Joe Hooker.
Hooker was evidently determined to build up a thoroughly efficient army, and spent the winter in constant efforts toward improving the condition and effectiveness of his troops. Inspections became extremely rigid; they extended not only to arms and equipment, but to camp and garrisonequipage, policing, and sanitation. Regiments reaching the highest standard for general efficiency and appearance were awarded leaves of absence for two officers at a time for fifteen days each, and furloughs for two men at a time, in each company, for the same period. Regiments that at first were not up to standard, were in the course of the winter given their furloughs as they attained efficiency.
Our Regiment was one of the eleven in the entire army which, when the first inspection was made, proved to be in the highest degree of efficiency. Leaves of absence and furloughs commenced at once, and before spring all who cared to go had a chance to visit their homes. The distance to Wisconsin was too great to make it profitable for me to return; so I visited a sister in New York State, taking advantage of this opportunity to see the sights of New York City and Washington.
During the winter the army was gradually strengthened by the return of convalescents. Thus our Regiment was able by spring once more to muster about 400 muskets. Many of the permanently disabled officers were transferred to theinvalid corps, and those who were sick were discharged, thus giving way to more vigorous and able-bodied men. The army was now in the best condition that it had ever been in, and we all looked forward to a successful campaign.
On the morning of April 27, 1863, we left our winter camp at Stafford Court House and marched to Kelly's Ford on the Rappahannock. Pontoon bridges had been laid ahead of us, and the Eleventh Corps had already crossed. Early on the morning of the 29th, we followed, and started at once for Germanna Ford on the Rapidan, twelve miles off. Three corps of the Army of the Potomac were engaged in the expedition—the Fifth, Eleventh and Twelfth. Our Corps, the Twelfth, after crossing, pushed on to the head of the column, and our Brigade was given the position of honor in the advance. We carried eight days' rations and a hundred rounds of ammunition. In addition, several pack mules laden with boxes of cartridges followed each regiment, so that we felt sure we were out for business. The men were in goodspirits, however, and notwithstanding the heavy loads marched rapidly.
We arrived at the ford in about four hours, without alarming the enemy. A portion of the Regiment were deployed as skirmishers under cover of the woods, three or four hundred yards from the river bank. At the word of command they moved on the run down to the river. Here each man hastily found for himself such shelter as he could, behind trees and brush, and opened fire on the enemy who were occupying some buildings on the opposite side. As we approached the river about a dozen Confederates started to run up the hill back of their position, in an attempt to escape. Our men were excellent marksmen, however, and after two had been killed and several others wounded, the rest of the enemy hastened back to the shelter of the buildings. Occasionally some fellow would fire at us from a window, but the puff of smoke from his gun would make him immediately the target for every musket within range, and that practice was soon discouraged. In less than ten minutes from the time when the skirmish commenced, the Southerners had hung out a whiterag and surrendered. The swift-flowing Rapidan, nearly three hundred feet wide, separated them from us, but we compelled them to wade over. In this way, without a casualty to ourselves, we bagged 101 prisoners, and not a man escaped to the enemy to give warning of our approach.
We had just secured our prisoners when General Slocum came up. He immediately took in the situation, and ordered us to cross the river and secure the heights on the other side. We had had a good time laughing at our prisoners as we made them cross over to us, with the water up to their armpits; but when we had to go in ourselves, it did not seem so funny. It was still early in the spring, and the water was icy cold from the melting snow in the mountains. Moreover, the current was so swift that some mounted officers and cavalry who went in ahead of us could scarcely keep a footing. If a horse stumbled, he was washed off his feet in an instant and carried down stream. In fact, one man was drowned in such an accident, and several others had narrow escapes. We prepared for crossing by placing our ammunition and provisions,and such valuables as would be injured by the water, on the ends of the muskets or on our heads, and plunged in. We had the small men distributed among the large ones, and in this way crossed without serious trouble. We were followed in the same manner by the Second Massachusetts. Once across we pushed rapidly for the hill overlooking the ford, where we took a strong position and threw out our pickets.
The pontoon train had by this time come up, and a bridge was soon built. The remainder of our Corps and the Eleventh Corps then crossed and went into camp ahead of us. We now gathered about our fires, and dried out our clothes in order to have them once more in comfortable shape by bed-time.
The next morning we moved to Chancellorsville, where we arrived early in the day. It is a very big name for a very small place; at that time it contained only one house. The position which we had thus gained uncovered the road to United States Ford, on the Rappahannock. Here another pontoon bridge was laid, and General Hooker crossed it with his force. We were all inthe best of spirits, for in securing this advantage of position we thought that the victory had already been gained.
On the morning of May 1 our Brigade engaged in a successful reconnoissance toward Fredericksburg, in which we captured a number of prisoners. On our return to Chancellorsville we were sent to occupy a slight rise of ground at Hazel Grove, about a mile southwest of Chancellor House. Here, in a sharp skirmish with the enemy, Lieutenant-Colonel Scott was shot through the head by a chance ball and instantly killed. During the afternoon, General Hooker rode around the lines, jubilant over the success of his movements. Several times he remarked that now he had got the Confederates where he wanted them, and they would have to fight us on our own ground or be destroyed. At that time the army still had unbounded confidence in him; but it seemed to me a bit curious that the man who was ready at Antietam to lead 150 men to a charge on the whole Southern army, should now get into entrenchment when he had at his command 150,000 soldiers.
The night passed off without incident. Atabout ten o'clock the next morning it was discovered that the enemy were moving wagon trains toward the southwest. Birney's Division of the Fifth Corps, which had been in position somewhere in our rear, was sent out at about noon to stop them. A sharp musketry fire for a minute or two indicated to us that the attack had been made, and soon after several hundred Southern prisoners were sent back to us under guard. At about four in the afternoon, our Regiment was ordered to deploy as skirmishers through the woods upon the left of Birney, to capture Confederate stragglers who were believed to be lurking there in large numbers. Obedient to these orders we piled up our knapsacks, overcoats, and other baggage, behind the breastworks we had built, and moved forward into the woods. We had advanced about half a mile from our entrenchments, when the storm broke loose in the rear. The army of Stonewall Jackson had struck the Eleventh Corps in the flank and rear, and had brushed it away like a swarm of flies before a hurricane. I was afterward told that the defeated Corps came tumbling along through the woods, an indiscriminatemass of flying men, pack mules with their packs turned, and stray artillery horses. Nor did they bring up until they were stopped at Chancellorsville by three regiments of Hooker's cavalry. However, the best troops in the world could not, if struck in the same way, have stood against such an attack.
Our line was now halted to await developments. Very soon a Confederate battery was in position on the hill which we had just left, and was throwing shells over toward Chancellor House. Directly in our front, to the south, another battery was firing in the same direction. We were hidden from this second battery by timber and underbrush, but were so close to it that in the intervals of the firing we could distinctly hear the strokes of swabs and rammers as the guns were swabbed out, and the charges rammed home. From my position I could see the battery near our old entrenchments, as it came up and commenced firing. However, it did not remain there long. The fire from our own batteries, near the Chancellor House, blew up two caissons or their limber chests, and the rest of the Southern battery sought a safer place.
The roar of artillery and musketry still continued around the Chancellor House and to the west of it; but we could tell by the sound of the firing that the Confederate advance had been stayed. By seven o'clock darkness had settled over the field, bringing with it for a time comparative quiet. We began to look around now, for a way out of the woods, and back to our Corps. Our scouts soon found that Geary's Division still held the entrenchments which they had built the night before, and that we might return safely through their lines to the Chancellor House. By nine o'clock, therefore, we were once more in line of battle with the rest of the Brigade, in the woods west of the House.
Shortly after our return, occurred the confusion in which Stonewall Jackson was mortally wounded. Our picket line had been driven in by the enemy, and we had fired a volley or two into the woods on our front. At the same time we had been fired on in the darkness by the Thirteenth New Jersey. General Jackson was struck just at this time, in the woods into which we had fired. It has been presumed that he was hit by his ownmen, but there is a possibility that the bullet came from the Third Wisconsin.
We secured but little sleep that night. Our artillery continued throwing shot and shell over our heads into the woods fronting us, where the enemy were supposed to be in force. At midnight the Confederates again attacked us; but Birney's Division, which had been cut off from us in the afternoon by Jackson's attack, struck them with fixed bayonets in the flank at the same time that we opened on them in the front—and of course we made short work of them. We had now regained the ground where we had left our knapsacks, but for fear of another attack, the officers would not let us go up after them. So we shivered miserably through the night, and in the morning arose thoroughly chilled.
The enemy, however, soon gave us enough to do to warm our blood. Birney's Division had, during the night, taken a new position in our advance, at Hazel Grove. It was attacked early Sunday morning, and in the course of an hour driven back with the reported loss of one of its batteries. As Birney's men passed back over us, the enemy cameon, flushed with victory, and in some disorder. But in a few minutes we sent them back, in worse disorder than they had come. We followed them for a quarter of a mile, but there encountered a second line. In a short time we had the satisfaction of seeing their backs, also, dimly in the distance. Colonel Colgrove of the Twenty-Seventh Indiana, who was commanding the Brigade, now ordered a bayonet charge; but before we were fairly started, General Ruger sent orders not to advance any farther. Soon the enemy attacked again; but after a stubborn fight we sent them back for a third time, their ranks disorganized and the ground thickly strewn with their dead.
It was now near nine o'clock. We had been fighting continuously for three hours, and all of the ammunition that we carried had been exhausted. That carried by the pack mules had been distributed, also, and was nearly all fired away. The muskets had become so heated and foul that it was difficult to load them. Some of the pieces were so hot that the cartridge would explode as soon as it struck the bottom of the gun, and before the man had been able to aim. Because of this, we wererelieved by a fresh brigade, and marched back about a mile to the rear. From there we were sent to a position a little northeast of the Chancellor House, where we built breastworks and remained until the army was withdrawn across the river.
All the rest of the day we could hear the firing to our right, and the next day, off in the direction of Fredericksburg, where Sedgwick's Corps was engaged; but we made no move. We only sat around, wearily watching the time pass away, until the night of the 5th, when preparations began to be made for the withdrawal of the army to the north bank of the river. The night was cold and rainy. Our blankets and overcoats had been lost, for we had left them on the second night of the battle to pick up stragglers, and fires were not permitted, lest they reveal our movement. As we shivered through the long, dark hours, all the admiration vanished that we had previously felt for Fighting Joe Hooker.
Toward day we silently withdrew from the entrenchments we had made, and marched off to the river. We found when we came near, however, that the approaches to the bridge were stillcrowded with the moving troops; we had, therefore, to double-quick back to the entrenchments, and wait until the bridge was cleared. Then we crossed over, the last of the army, entirely unmolested except for a few shells thrown by a Confederate battery.
We now returned to Stafford Court House, and at night pitched our tents on the very ground we had left ten days before. We were all thoroughly discouraged over the outcome of our expedition, and feeling, as one of our officers expressed it, "that we had gone out for wool, and come back shorn." The old soldiers who took part in that movement cannot think of it, to this day, but with the strongest feelings of disgust.
The camp that we occupied on our return to Stafford Court House was one of the best we ever had. It was an old orchard, with a vacant field near by for a drill and parade ground. Our friends, the Second Massachusetts, occupied one end of the orchard and we the other. Between us was a good baseball ground, where we amused ourselves at playing ball or pitching quoits. Every night after supper, the officers of the two regimentswould get together for a big game, while the rank and file would follow suit, and our drill ground would present an animated sight. Thus we whiled away the time with considerable comfort, often speculating on the possibility of the enemy coming across the river to attack us. So many regiments of two-year men and nine-months men were being mustered out of the service, that we did not consider it at all likely that we would cross the river until our ranks were filled by the conscription which had then been ordered.
On June 6 this easy life came to an end. The company commanders of our Regiment were summoned to the Colonel's tent, and informed that the Regiment had been selected to accompany a cavalry expedition. We were instructed to leave behind all baggage not carried on the persons of the men, and to take only those who could march thirty miles a day. The expedition was to be composed of the two best regiments in each corps—the Second Massachusetts and ourselves having been selected from the Twelfth.
We left our camp at about six o'clock and marched that night to Spott Tavern, fifteen miles away. The next day we reached Bealeton Station, where we bivouacked in the woods until the night of the 8th, awaiting the arrival of our cavalry. We were joined here by a number of other regiments, the whole force being under command of General Ames. Our State pride was highly gratified to find four Wisconsin regiments in this detail of picked commands from every corps.
On the night of the 8th, our whole force, infantry, artillery, and cavalry, moved down to the Rappahannock at Beverly Ford. The next morning, a portion of the Third Wisconsin was deployed to cover the crossing; but the enemy had not discovered us, and we passed over without trouble. The cavalry now pushed on to Brandy Station, on the railroad; the infantry following, with our detachment in the lead. The cavalry were soon briskly engaged, and in a little while Colonel Davis, their commanding officer, was brought back mortally wounded. The infantry was now disposed on the flanks, to guard the cavalry from being taken at a disadvantage. Thefighting soon became general, being mostly by detached companies deployed as skirmishers. At one time, in advancing with my Company to clear out a piece of woods, I had a lively fight for a short time; five men out of the twenty with me were severely wounded before we drove the enemy from their shelter. At another time, Company D succeeded in getting on the flank and rear of a North Carolina regiment, and captured over a hundred prisoners. Some of our cavalry regiments were pretty severely handled at the beginning of the fight, especially before the infantry came up. On the whole, however, the expedition was a success, resulting in the capture of the headquarters of the Confederate cavalry leader, General J. E. B. Stuart, together with many valuable papers and orders relating to the contemplated invasion of the North.
We now recrossed Beverly Ford and went into camp until the 12th. Then we learned that the Confederate army was on the move toward the North, and that our army was marching to ManassasJunction and Centerville. We therefore marched in the same direction, and on the 16th rejoined our Corps near Centerville. Reaching Leesburg on the 18th, we went into camp. We had no definite information as to the location of the Confederate army, but rather suspected that it was moving into the Shenandoah Valley. This suspicion was confirmed when we learned that they had occupied Winchester and Martinsburg. We heard of them next as crossing the Potomac at Williamsport and marching into Pennsylvania.
During our stay at Leesburg, several men from a New York regiment were shot for desertion. They were the first executions for that crime in our army, and for a time, they produced a great sensation. On the 26th we crossed the Potomac at Edward's Ferry, and proceeded up the river to the mouth of the Monocacy; thence we moved across to Frederick City, where we went into camp early on the afternoon of the 28th.
During the night I learned that our Division was under marching orders to strike for Williamsport in the morning, and destroy the bridge on which the enemy had crossed the Potomac. Wewere to destroy, also, all boats and ferries that might be used by the Confederates in a retreat. Then we were to rejoin the army if we could; if not, to move west to Cumberland, and rejoin as opportunity offered. With morning, however, came a change of commanders, and with it also, a change of orders. General Hooker had been superseded by General Meade, and now we were ordered northward to follow the army that had gone ahead.
At noon on July 1, while we were preparing our dinner at Two Taverns, some eight miles south of Gettysburg, the distant rumbling of artillery to the north announced to us the opening of a great battle. The cannonading became more and more furious as the minutes passed, until in the distance it sounded like one continual roll of thunder. At length came the order to march, and in five minutes we were on the road to the front as fast as our strength could take us. As we trudged along, we met hundreds of Confederate prisoners being sent to the rear, as well as a good many of our own wounded, on their way to thefield hospitals. Of stragglers, there were exceptionally few.
On the run we reached Cemetery Ridge, where we learned that the First and Eleventh corps had been compelled to fall back through the town of Gettysburg. They had taken a new position on a ridge east of the city. A portion of our Brigade now filed off to the right, across Rock Creek, thence north about half a mile; and then, having deployed about half of our Regiment as skirmishers, advanced toward the west until we were sharply engaged with the enemy's skirmishers. Only a little over two hours had passed from the time when we received the order to march eight miles distant, before we were in position on the extreme right of the line of battle, checking the advance of the enemy in that direction. There we remained until sunset, when we were relieved by the cavalry, and recrossed Rock Creek to the west side.
As the remainder of our Corps had come up, they took position on the right of the First Corps. We now rejoined them there, our own right resting on Rock Creek. Immediately we began tothrow up breastworks, and by evening had built for ourselves quite respectable entrenchments. It rained during most of the night; but in spite of that and the enemy, we secured a good rest for the next day's work.
Early the next morning we were stirring, in anticipation of an attack; but until noon there was nothing but skirmishing in our vicinity. Then the storm broke loose on the extreme left of the line, near Little Round Top, where Sickles's Corps was situated. The place was entirely hidden from our sight, and from the sounds we could form no opinion as to how things were going; but we were constantly receiving reports that Sickles was either holding his own or driving the enemy before him. In the light of subsequent events, these reports seem to have been purposely colored, in order to keep up our spirits. Occasional demonstrations along our front kept us in constant expectation of being attacked, but nothing of the sort occurred.
About six o'clock we were hurried out of our entrenchments at a double-quick toward Little Round Top, where it was understood that Sickles'sThird Corps had been driven back with severe loss. But before we arrived, the enemy had been repulsed, and the firing ceased. We were now started back to our entrenchments. We found, however, upon our arrival, that the enemy had in our absence taken possession of them. It was exasperating to see them benefitting by our labors, but we were somewhat consoled by the capture of a picket of twenty Confederates, who in the darkness had wandered into our line as we approached. We were now obliged to form a new line, connecting with our forces on the left as before, but swinging back at an angle on the right to Rock Creek. We thus presented to the enemy a semi-circular front, which they could not penetrate without being subjected to a cross fire from both sides.
During the night we remained unmolested. At daylight the firing commenced. The ground occupied by the enemy's skirmishers was a rocky bit of woodland which furnished abundant cover for sharpshooters. For a while they annoyed us, but by nine o'clock we had dislodged them, and driven them back to the cover of their breastworks. On our left the enemy were making desperateefforts to dislodge from their entrenchments Greene's Brigade and the troops of the First Corps. Six times they came up to the assault, and six times were repulsed, leaving the ground over which they advanced literally covered with their dead. At about eleven o'clock a portion of our Division followed up these successes by charging the Confederates in our front and sweeping them entirely out of our entrenchments. They retired only a short distance, however, showing that they had not abandoned the contest.
For nearly two hours, complete quiet now succeeded the roar and din of the battle. Not a cannon was fired. Only an occasional musket shot disturbed the silence that prevailed from one end of the field to the other. We all felt, however, that this was but a lull before the final burst of the storm. The losses in our Regiment had thus far been light, and our spirits ran high. We felt entire confidence that no force that the Southerners could bring against us could by direct assault break our line at any point.
About one o'clock, the first shot was fired in the tremendous artillery duel that preceded the lastdesperate attempt to penetrate our center at Cemetery Ridge. In five minutes three hundred guns were pouring into one another, their deadly showers of shot and shell, and making fearful havoc of every thing that was not sheltered. From our position in the woods we could see nothing of what was going on in other parts of the line; but the air above was filled with screaming shells, as they flew back and forth on their deadly errand. In some instances, shells from the Confederate batteries in front of the Second Corps would pass entirely over our lines, and land near the enemy in our front; a great many of them fell in the open space in our rear.
At one time during the progress of the cannonade, a battery was placed in position on a hill across Rock Creek directly in front of our Regiment, and began to drop shells unpleasantly close to us. But our friends of Battery M, of the First New York Artillery, who had been with us since the Brigade was organized, seemed to get their range at once, and promptly silenced them. On a trip over the field, the next day, I found the positionwhere they had been stationed marked by a dozen dead horses and two exploded caissons.
During the cannonading, I took occasion to go back into the woods a short distance in order to get a view of what was going on. Everything in sight gave evidence of the severity of the fire. All those who were not actively engaged had sought the shelter of rocks and trees or the inequalities of the ground. Here and there mounted officers and orderlies were riding across the field, although at first sight it seemed as though a bird could scarcely fly over it unharmed.
In the course of an hour the terrific artillery fire slackened. Then for a few minutes it nearly ceased. In the interval of silence, Pickett's Division of Confederates was marching to the charge. From my position I could not see them coming on, but I knew that they were charging by the old familiar Southern yell. Soon that was drowned in the roar of musketry and artillery. For a time all was turmoil and confusion. At length the hearty cheers of our comrades rang out, and we knew that the Confederate tide of invasion had been safely rolled back.
While this assault was being made on the center, constant demonstrations were being made on our front, and we momentarily expected an attack. None came, however, although during all the rest of the day the enemy presented an unshaken line. At night they silently withdrew, and on the morning of the 4th our reconnoitering parties could find nothing of them east of Seminary Ridge, save their dead and severely wounded, whom they had left on the field.
I spent some time that day going over the ground occupied by the enemy in front of the Twelfth Corps, and that over which Pickett had made his now famous charge. From what I saw, I felt certain that the enemy's losses were double our own. Where they had assaulted Geary's Division on the evening of the 2nd and on the morning of the 3rd, the ground was so strewn with their dead that it would have been possible to walk for rods on dead bodies.
On the morning of the 5th the enemy was on the road back to Virginia. We started the same day following hard after them, on parallel roads to the east. When they reached Williamsport,however, they turned on us with a bold front. It had been raining almost constantly for several weeks and the Potomac was a raging torrent, which could not be forded. We were in hopes that it might thus continue until our forces could be concentrated to overwhelm them. On the morning of the 13th, however, when we were ready to move forward to the attack, they were gone. The river had fallen during the night, and they had made good their retreat.
For a time our Regiment led in the pursuit to the ford at Falling Waters. Then we were filed out to the side of the road to make way for General Kilpatrick's Cavalry Brigade. They had scarcely passed out of sight through a patch of woods, when the roar of artillery and the sharp crack of musketry announced that the enemy had been found. We moved forward as rapidly as possible, but were not in time to take any part in the conflict. It appeared that when the cavalry had emerged from the woods they had found a brigade of Confederate infantry posted as a rear guard, on a ridge overlooking the ford at Falling Waters. They had immediately charged the enemy'sbreastworks and had captured over a thousand prisoners. They had won, besides, as trophies of their skirmish, two pieces of artillery and four or five colors inscribed with all the battles of the Army of Northern Virginia. No further pursuit was made. All of Lee's army, save only this rear guard, had escaped safely to the south side of the Potomac.
At about this time I sent to my home in Wisconsin the following letter concerning Lee's invasion:
I have wished a good many times that the rebs could have had a month more among the people of Pennsylvania. What little sympathy I had for them is gone now. I cannot appreciate that disposition which will swindle a friend to compensate for what an enemy has stolen from you. In some cases the farmers would sell our men provisions at reasonable rates and even give them something, but the majority would ask from $.60 to $1.00 a loaf for bread, and $.25 a quart for milk, and all such things in proportion.
I have wished a good many times that the rebs could have had a month more among the people of Pennsylvania. What little sympathy I had for them is gone now. I cannot appreciate that disposition which will swindle a friend to compensate for what an enemy has stolen from you. In some cases the farmers would sell our men provisions at reasonable rates and even give them something, but the majority would ask from $.60 to $1.00 a loaf for bread, and $.25 a quart for milk, and all such things in proportion.
Our Corps now moved down the river to Harpers Ferry, and crossing into Virginia, marchedleisurely along the eastern side of the Blue Ridge. We found the abandoned fields through which we passed overgrown with blackberry bushes, and literally black with the ripened fruit. Every night the men would go out from camp, and within easy range find as many berries as they could eat. And they were the best medicine we ever used. I knew of cases of diarrhea that had become almost chronic, soon cured by this diet.
On July 31 we went into camp near Kelly's Ferry on the Rappahannock, where for the next two weeks we did guard duty along the river and rested from the fatigue of the long marches we had made since leaving Stafford Court House. On August 15 came orders to move. The next morning we marched down to Rappahannock Station in company with two other old regiments of the Brigade, and boarded the cars for Alexandria, on our way to New York. We were joined at the station by five other regiments from the different brigades, all under command of General Ruger.
It seems that during the Confederate invasion of Pennsylvania, the New York militia regiments had been called off for duty in Washington, Baltimore, and other places. A riotous mob in New York City had taken advantage of this circumstance to break out in defiance of the authorities, and in resistance to the execution of the draft. They had for several days held the city in a reign of terror, and it had been necessary to stop all proceedings under the draft.
After a wait of several days, we embarked at Alexandria on the steamer "Merrimac," and proceeded down the Potomac to the ocean, thence to New York City. We landed at the foot of Canal Street, and quietly marched to the City Hall Park, where we arrived at about ten o'clock on Saturday night. Barracks had been provided for the enlisted men, but the officers' tents had not arrived. This did not trouble us much, however, as we had been without tents much of the time during the past two months. Wrapped in our rubber blankets, we lay on the grass and slept, as the landlady inRob Roysays, "like a good sword in its scabbard." We awoke in the morning to findthe sun well up in the heavens, and the park surrounded by a crowd of curious people, surprised to see a number of fairly well-dressed officers, sleeping on the ground like a lot of vagrants.
The next day, tents were pitched and cots prepared, and we were enjoying the delights of camp life amid all the surroundings of civilization. We had our dress parades and guard mountings with all the pomp and show that 300 men can make, to the delight of the great crowds who had come to see the veterans of Antietam and Gettysburg. Soon after our arrival I was detailed for duty in the provost marshal's office of the Fifth District of New York, where the rioting had been most desperate. I had charge of the guard stationed there to preserve order and see that those who brought substitutes or recruits were promptly admitted.
There were no disturbances in the city while we were there, except such as our men made for themselves, at the instigation of the police. We had plenty of bold fellows in the Regiment, who wanted no better amusement than to raid a saloon that had been the headquarters of the rioters. They would get out of camp at night, and gatherin such a saloon pointed out to them by the police. Then they would get up a row on some pretext, and pitch bartenders and bummers out of doors, and smash everything breakable about the place. Everyone in the Regiment could find a way to enjoy himself, and a policeman to help him, and would have been content to stay in the city much longer than we did.
On September 6 came orders to return to our camp. We marched down to the Battery in the evening, and were conveyed in small boats to the steamer "Mississippi." In the morning, when I awoke, we were rolling and pitching in a manner that I had never before experienced in my limited travels by water. A few of the officers had become seasick on our way up to New York, and those of us who escaped had enjoyed the fun of laughing at them. I did not propose therefore to give up now. So I dressed and started for breakfast. One smell of the coffee, and I had business on deck. But after gazing steadily over the side of the vessel for a time, I felt better, and by noon had recovered my appetite.
We arrived at Alexandria on the 9th. Onthe 13th we reached our camp at Kelly's Ferry, and found the Thirteenth New Jersey drawn up in line to welcome us back to the old Brigade. We did not, however, remain long in camp. Rumors began to float about, that Lee was sending a part of his army to reënforce Bragg in northwestern Georgia. Within two days we were again on the march to the Rapidan, behind which the enemy had retired. We reached Raccoon Ford on the 16th, and our Regiment and the Second Massachusetts were detailed to support pickets at the Ford.
We camped in the woods near the river, with sentinels at night down to the bank, but during the day they were withdrawn to the most convenient cover in the neighborhood. The enemy were camped just behind the hills on the other side. Just about this time they appeared to be having a religious revival. While visiting my sentinels after dark, I could hear them preaching, praying, and singing, whole regiments apparently being thus engaged. Under orders from Corps headquarters we refrained from firing upon their pickets and they reciprocated the courtesy, which made itmuch pleasanter for the sentinels on both sides of the river.
After two days of this picket duty we were relieved by a Connecticut regiment and rejoined our Corps. We found that we were under orders to march the next day to Brandy Station, on the railroad. We did not know it at the time, but we were about to take our leave from the old Army of the Potomac, with which we had been associated since its organization. We had fought side by side in some of the hardest battles in the war; and had we been consulted in the matter, we would doubtless have voted to stay where we were, and help it to finish Lee's army. However, we were not consulted, and the necessities of war now called us to the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga.
On the night of the 24th, we bivouacked at Brandy Station, where the paymaster worked all night paying off the troops, and where we saw the Eleventh Corps being loaded for Alexandria. The next morning we marched to Bealeton Station,where, after a wait of a day, we also loaded up and started. The cars were ordinary freight trucks, with rough board benches set crosswise, and the men were crowded in as thick as they could be seated.
We pulled out of Washington over the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, the trains containing forty or fifty cars each. As we approached the mountains the size of the trains was reduced to about seven cars; but on reaching the western slope, the old number was restored. We crossed the Ohio at Benwood, on a pontoon bridge. Another lot of cars was awaiting us on the opposite side, and we went on through Columbus, Dayton, Indianapolis, and Louisville. On this trip through Ohio and Indiana we were everywhere reminded that we were among friends. Our train stopped for a time at Columbus, Xenia, and Dayton, and it seemed as though the citizens of those towns could not do enough for us. At every station along the road great crowds of people were gathered, and cheered us as we passed along.
We stopped briefly at Louisville, then went on again through Nashville, and past the battle-fieldof Murfreesboro. We debarked from the cars at Stevenson, Alabama, on Sunday morning, just a week from the time we had started. We certainly were glad enough to be released after seven days and nights of railroad travelling, cramped up so tightly that there was scarce room either to sit up or lie down. Our arrival was none too soon. The long line of railroad from Nashville southward, had been practically unguarded, and the enemy's cavalry under General Wheeler succeeded soon after our arrival in tearing it up in several places.
We now had several weeks of racing up and down the railroad line, infantry after cavalry, and with the usual result. In the end, however, the road was cleared, with the whole "Red Star" Division distributed between Murfreesboro and Stevenson. Our Regiment was stationed at Wartrace, where there was a junction with a short railroad running to Shelbyville—the Nashville & Chattanooga Railroad. It was a curiosity. The cross-ties were about five feet apart, and the rails were of wood, surmounted by a running surface of light iron. Frequently the wooden rails wouldspread, and then there would be a wreck; in fact, scarcely a day passed on which there would not be an accident of some kind. Large details of men from our Regiment were set to work to bring the road in repair, and by Christmas it was in fairly good condition.
Shortly after we were established at Wartrace, I secured leave of absence to go to Chattanooga in search of my brother, who had enlisted in the Tenth Wisconsin. I had not heard of him since the battle of Chickamauga. My route was by rail to Bridgeport on the Tennessee River, then in a small captured Confederate steamer called "Paint Rock," up the Tennessee to Chattanooga.
The "Paint Rock" was loaded to its utmost capacity with hardtack for the starving Union men who held Chattanooga. The river route to that town had only recently been opened up by General Hooker, with the Eleventh Corps and the Second Division of our Corps. Previously it had been necessary to wheel all supplies sixty miles over a mountain road, where teams could scarcely haul the forage for their own trip. Evennow the boats could run only to within eight miles of the city.
The fifty-mile river trip brought me at the end of the day to the landing at Kelly's Ferry. Then I had an eight-mile walk before me to the camps, where I arrived late in the evening. I soon found the regiment or the small remnant of it that I was looking for; but then I learned that my brother was beyond doubt a prisoner in the hands of the enemy.
I spent a day in visiting about Chattanooga. The enemy occupied a line from the Tennessee River, above town, to the point of Lookout Mountain below. At no place were they near enough to throw shells into the city, save from their heavy guns on Lookout Mountain. From these, shells came over all day at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes and exploded high in the air over either our camps or the city. So far as I could see, however, they did little damage.
Shortly after my return to my Regiment, I was detailed to investigate the killing of a negro by a white man, not far from our post. The evidence showed that it was a most unprovoked murder, andI so reported. The man was thereupon arrested and sent to the provost marshal at Tullahoma. I never learned what was finally done with him. The curious thing about the affair was the frank astonishment of the man that anyone should take notice of the killing of a mere "nigger."
Toward the end of November a large number of Confederate prisoners, who had been captured in the battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, were being sent northward over the railroad. We often had conversation with them while the trains were stopping at our station. Some were still defiant, but most of them were discouraged, and many predicted that the Confederacy could not last six months longer. An unusually large number of deserters of all ranks from colonel downward, were also coming in, and they likewise professed to believe that the Confederacy was tottering.