Movements After the Siege—The Regiment Leaves Knoxville—The Condition of the Troops—Blaine’s Cross-Roads—The Men Re-enlist—Strawberry Plain—Fight with the Confederate Cavalry—The Regiment Goes to Knoxville—Erin Station—The Corn Expedition—Transfer of Non-re-enlisting Men to the Thirty-sixth Massachusetts Regiment—Long Marches—The Snow-storm—Ordered Home—March Over the Cumberland Mountains—The Regiment Reaches Boston—The Receptions.
Early in the morning of the 7th of December, the Brigade started with other troops of the Ninth Corps in the direction of Morristown, in pursuit of the retreating enemy.
As showing the decimation which disease and suffering had wrought in the ranks of the regiment, one of its companies was able to muster that morning but one commissioned officer, one sergeant, one corporal, and three privates. Nearly one-quarter of the Ninth Corps remained in Knoxville for these and equally good reasons. There were over a thousand men of the First Division in camp there, who had done duty through the siege, but who could not march at this time because of their sick and enfeebled condition and lack of suitable clothing. All who were not absolutely sick and destitute were put in readiness for active duty in the course of ten days, and sent to their regiments. In order to fit out these men, the sutlers’ shops and stores of the town were ransacked for clothing, blankets, etc. If boots and shoes could not be found at the commissary department, or furnished by it, the men purchased them with their own money, and set out for the front; and when these articles could not be bought, the old shoes were tapped in camp with leather or raw-hide; and when the latter resource failed, as it often did, raw-hide moccasins were cobbled up. Coats and trousers were patched with old blankets or the capes of overcoats; coverlids and bed-quilts were bought of the inhabitants of Knoxville, andissued to those who were destitute of blankets. This was the motley character of the outfit of the large majority of the soldiers who took part in that distressing winter campaign of which we are about to speak. On the 8th of December, the regiment reached a place called Blaine’s Cross-Roads, where it remained only one day. On the next day it marched to Rutledge, pausing here till the 15th; on the latter day returning to Blaine’s Cross-Roads.
Before entering upon a description of the life passed in this memorable camp, it seems proper to speak of some of the special duties performed by the soldiers in this department, and especially by the members of the regiment. Nearly every man in Company K of East Boston, and many members of other companies, were handy with tools. The East Boston men were acquainted with calking and graving and ship-carpentry; and the engineer officers of the corps were not slow in finding it out. Since our army had entered East Tennessee, a large portion of its pontoon train had been destroyed. The army was now operating in a country full of rivers, and at this, the rainy season, few could be forded: railroad bridges had been destroyed by both armies, and to enable the army to move, these must be rebuilt; no flour or meal could be found in the country except what the army could grind in the mills from wheat and corn foraged. Many of these mills had been broken down, and it was necessary to repair them. Skilful mechanics were hence in great demand, and as the wants of the army grew more pressing, the soldier who could repair a mill or build a boat came to be more esteemed than a major-general. As we have stated, the Twenty-ninth was very fortunate in having a large number of mechanics in its ranks, and consequently many details were made from it for these purposes. At one time nearly a whole company was engaged in building pontoon boats. The men felled the large trees, cut them into plank with two-handed saws and a saw-pit, and with this green lumber, built large, clumsy “dories” and strong ferry-boats, calking them with cotton, and graving them with gum (obtained in the forests).
At one time nearly a third of the regiment was set at engineering-work of one sort or another; and in this andother like labors, were kept employed through the rest of the month of December. This handiness of the men was in part the result of their native Yankee ingenuity and strong self-reliance. While few, if any, were professional engineers or millwrights, yet their knowledge of carpentry and of the use of mechanics’ tools enabled them to do a fair piece of work of almost any description, and led them to attempt many things that they had never seen done.
The author does not wish to create the impression that this handiness and mechanical skill was wholly confined to the Twenty-ninth Regiment. It was quite general in the whole Ninth Corps, in which were several other Massachusetts regiments. It was about this time that the coffee-mill was introduced, with the outfit, to grind corn and wheat. Who originated the idea, cannot now be known; but it was a happy one, and saved the men from much destitution and labor, Christ’s brigade having two or three of these machines in every company. “There must have been a corner,” says an officer, “in this article of ironmongery, at that time, in East Tennessee. But the Twenty-ninth was superior even to a corner, for when these articles became scarce from having been worn out, one of the men got a file, and gathering three or four discarded coffee-mills, recut their scores, and fitted out his friends and comrades with something almost as good as new.”
The favorite theory of some, even professional military men, that a good soldier should be, and is, a good machine, never using his reasoning faculties, or exercising his own judgment, finds no corroboration in the history of this campaign. But for the intelligence and sterling common-sense of our soldiers here, giving them complete adaptability to all the varied circumstances of their situation, they would have perished from the cold and hunger of that mountainous and terribly destitute country.
A knowledge of the laws of health taught them that the practice of getting a full meal as often as the rations would allow, though it be but once a day, was a better way of sustaining life and health, than that of taking three or four scanty meals, and being hungry all the time; they learned for themselves the beneficial effect of sleeping as much aspossible by a blazing fire, and taking every precaution to keep the body warm. But neither intelligence, good judgment, nor the use of cunning devices, nor all combined, could wholly avail the soldiers against the absolute want that prevailed in that dreary winter camp. Blaine’s Cross-Roads was the Valley Forge of the Rebellion. It was a bleak, mountainous plain, some twenty miles from Knoxville. The ground was for much of the time well covered with snow and ice. Many of the men were without shoes or stockings, and to supply this want, raw-hides were issued, which the destitute soldiers fashioned into rude moccasins. The garments of both officers and men were in tatters, and all sorts of expedients were resorted to, to protect themselves from the cold; some whose trousers were ragged, cut up their overcoats for patches; others still were without blankets. The army was quartered in shelter-tents; nothing except the abundance of wood saved the men from freezing. The suffering from want of food was, if possible, even greater than that which arose from a lack of clothing and shelter. “At one issue of rations, each man received for his mite eight ounces of flour for nine days. One tablespoonful of coffee was issued once in from three to five days.”43It was not possible for men to exist upon such a small quantity of food, and hence they resorted to foraging. The food-hunting excursions that grew out of this state of pinching poverty often extended far into the surrounding country, but they commonly resulted in sore disappointment.
The loyal farmers had been stripped of nearly all their supplies by the army of the enemy; but they were touched by pity at seeing our hungry men, and listening to their earnest requests for food, and occasionally some large-hearted planter would share with them his meagre stock of provisions, and send them away from his door with a small piece of bacon or a few pounds of meal. The pangs of hunger are not easy to be endured. After the teamsters had fed their animals at night, the half-famished soldiers would creep stealthily to the pens, steal the corn upon which the poor animals were feeding, and then betaking themselves to their tents, spenda large part of the night in grinding and cooking it. So general did this practice of stealing the food of the animals become, that guards were regularly stationed over them whenever they were fed; but the guards, as hungry as their fellows, stole the corn themselves.
The author is well aware of the distressing nature of these details, but the story of Blaine’s Cross-Roads has never before been published to the world, so far as his knowledge extends, and showing as it does that the sufferings of our soldiers in this campaign were not surpassed by those of our revolutionary soldiers even at Valley Forge, he has deemed it important to give a somewhat minute account of these privations. The story is well calculated to disprove the favorite theory of many, that the habits of luxury of the Americans of to-day have resulted in both physical and moral degeneracy. Washington’s soldiers at Valley Forge were mutinous, and at times could not be commanded,44but the Union soldiers at Blaine’s Cross-Roads were obedient, and so far forgetful of their sufferings, that, without murmuring, they performed every task assigned to them, and whenever their brave old enemy made his appearance, they were ready to fight. Pack and draught animals died by scores here and at other places in the department, by reason of the scarcity of food. This state of things made it necessary to lessen the number of mounts usually allowed in the army. Only one pack mule was allowed to a regiment for officers’ baggage and mess kit, and two to the brigade headquarters. Writing concerning the experiences of this winter, an officer of the regiment says: “It is well known that a mule will thrive on fence rails, but it may be a benefit to future campaigners to know that sassafras twigs are very nourishing and satisfactory to a hungry horse, and that he can be kept fat on them.”
The law of Congress which provided for the payment of large bounties to re-enlisting veterans, was designed to retain in the service an army of trained and skilful men. In pursuance of this law, the War Department issued an order just before the close of the year 1863, promising, in addition to the bounty, a furlough of thirty days, provided a sufficientnumber of men enlisted in each regiment to constitute an organization of that size, the furlough to be given before the expiration of the original term. Strange as it may seem, a very large majority of the members of the Twenty-ninth re-enlisted under this order, while they were enduring the famine, toil, and nakedness of Blaine’s Cross-Roads. On the first day of January, 1864, they were mustered into the service of the United States for another term of three years, as the Twenty-ninth Veteran Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. But they were doomed to disappointment as to receiving at once the promised furlough.
On the 16th of January, the whole corps was ordered out of camp, and moved to Strawberry Plain, a station on the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad, crossed the Holston River, and went into camp upon the banks. General Sheridan, who was in command of the Fourth Corps (also engaged in this movement), assumed command of all the troops. This march, though only of seven miles, was one of the hardest of the campaign; the roads, which were frozen at night, thawed during the day, producing mud several inches in depth; and the men were so feeble from the effects of their suffering, that it required nearly all the strength they possessed to get along. The regiment was now under the command of Colonel Barnes,—Pierce having the command of a brigade. During the siege of Knoxville, Barnes reached our forces at Cumberland Gap, on his way to his regiment, and here he remained till the siege was raised, on duty as a member of the staff of the general in command there. He reached his regiment on the 26th of December, at Blaine’s Cross-Roads.
On the expedition above spoken of, the Twenty-ninth went no farther than the first halting-place, on the Holston. Its camp was formed near a famous trestle railroad bridge, that spanned the river at this point. The bridge was famous because of its great value and skilful construction, and from the fact that it had been repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt by both armies. While the bulk of the army was operating far beyond, in the direction of Virginia, the regiment, with a few other troops of the Ninth Corps, seemed to be left here for the purpose of protecting this bridge. In the course ofseveral days afterwards, the expeditionary army began to return, moving towards Knoxville; and at midnight of the 20th, the regiment was ordered to recross the river. Falling back about three miles from the bank, it halted, and remained in camp till the 22d, other troops taking its place as a guard at the bridge, where, on the 21st, a sharp skirmish was had with the enemy, who attempted to cross.
The First Division of the Ninth Corps was assigned to the duty of covering the retreat of our army. At midnight of the 22d, the regiment marched two miles to the rear, and halted for the troops that had been in advance to pass. These troops had with them two brass pieces of artillery, drawn by the men. The regiment followed on behind the artillery till daybreak, when one of these guns, having been abandoned, they took charge of it. “The men, without much complaint, formed along, took up the cold, stiff rope attached to the cannon, and were soon on the march again, dragging the heavy piece after them, over the frozen road, that had been badly cut up by the passing trains. Up and down hills, over streams, and through fields and forests, the men dragged the gun, exerting all their strength.”45When within twelve miles of Knoxville, the regiment was met by horses sent out to take in the artillery, and were thus relieved of their charge. During this movement, the Seventy-ninth New York Highlanders acted as rear guard, with the Twenty-ninth as a support, Colonel Morrison of the Seventy-ninth being in command of both regiments.
At about noon (22d), when ten miles from Knoxville, word was sent to the Twenty-ninth regiment, from the headquarters of the Ninth Corps, then two or three miles away, that a halt was to be made for dinner, and that the Twenty-ninth and Seventy-ninth might govern themselves accordingly. All seemed comparatively quiet at the moment, and Colonel Barnes ordered his regiment to halt. The staff-officers removed the saddles from their horses, to give the weary animals a little rest, while both men and officers stretched themselves upon the ground. They had scarcely settled down to rest, when a number of sharp shots were heard fromthe direction of the skirmish line, indicating that the enemy had struck our rear. The horses were quickly saddled, and the line formed. Shortly the Seventy-ninth was seen coming down the hill, steadily but rapidly. “Here they come!” cried one of the officers, and in a moment more the enemy made their appearance. The two regiments now formed in the field. A large body of the enemy’s cavalry, with drawn sabres, shouting and screaming, dashed down the road. Our men brought their pieces up instantly and fired a well-aimed volley, and the troopers fell back into the woods. But in a few moments they again appeared, this time in the field. Our troops now took the road and the edge of the woods that skirted the field, and as the cavalry came across the open space at a rapid run, shouting to our men to surrender, they received both a front and flank fire at the same moment. The line was thoroughly broken, and the horsemen instantly scattered and fled for the woods in their rear, under a heavy fire. As soon as the battle began, word was forwarded to the corps, and orders were sent back for the regiments to retire gradually, and hold the enemy in check. The enemy almost wholly disappeared, and the officers began to suspect an extensive flanking movement. Our men fell back rapidly for the distance of a mile, halted, and sent out a line of skirmishers. The Confederates appeared in front in small squads, firing a few shots to attract our attention, but presently, as had been anticipated, their main body appeared on our left flank. The two regiments now began to retreat in line of battle,—through woods, over fences, across streams and meadows,—keeping up a constant skirmish, till they arrived within three miles of Knoxville, where they made a stand and drove their pursuers back.
On the 24th of January, the regiment passed through Knoxville, flying its tattered flags, and marched about five miles southwest of the city, to a beautiful place known as Erin Station, on the Virginia and East Tennessee Railroad. The scarcity of food for both men and beasts was now, notwithstanding the raising of the siege, nearly as great as it had been during the preceding autumn and early winter, and all troops not required for actual field service were beingemployed in gathering such supplies as the already much-exhausted country afforded.
On the 25th, Colonel Barnes was ordered to forage south of Clinch River, and taking with him a large number of wagons and all his men fit to march, set out in the direction named. A halt for the night was made at Mr. Black’s plantation, Black’s Ford, on the Clinch. Black was a farmer of means, and possessed a large store of corn, a portion of which was taken the next morning, Mr. Black receiving therefor a written receipt enabling him to obtain pay for it from the Government, upon proof of his loyalty. The trains then forded the river and divided, Major Chipman taking charge of one division and Colonel Barnes of the other. Chipman, who had a less number of wagons to load, reached the camp of the regiment at Erin Station in advance of the other detachment, which had a long journey, but returned on the 28th with well-filled wagons.
After moving about the country considerably, Colonel Barnes came to the plantation of one Sheriff Staples, whose corn-fields were very extensive. Upon entering the fields, it appeared that the corn had been gathered, and as the battalion was about leaving, some keen fellow ventured upon a further examination, resulting in the discovery that the corn on the outside rows had been plucked, while in the centre of the field there was great abundance of it. This plan had been devised to deceive foragers, but it failed to operate successfully this time. Members of the regiment speak of a certain family named “Crow,” whose place they visited on this march, and whose conduct and appearance were so suspicious, that they deemed it unwise to lodge or eat in the house. Much of the country travelled over on this march had never before been visited by the regiment, and in searching for the large farms, the officers were often obliged to inquire the way of the country people. One familiar answer to such inquiries was, “Two looks and a screech”; and another, “Six bends and a go-over”; the meaning of which latter expression was, you will pass six bends or turns in the road, and cross one bridge—“go-over”—before reaching the place inquired about. The extreme ignorance of some of the people of this region is well shown by a conversation whichLieutenant Whitman had with a farmer’s wife, to whom he said that he came from Boston, Massachusetts. “I come from them parts myself,” said the old lady. “Ah! whereabouts, Madam?” asked the officer. “Tarry Haute, Indianny,” was the intelligent answer.
January 29. A written order from division headquarters directed the regiment to make immediate arrangements to proceed on their veteran furlough, and that the non-re-enlisting members of the regiment, about one hundred in number, should at once be transferred to the Thirty-sixth Massachusetts Regiment. The order was an unjust one, and contemplated a complete dissolution of the connection of these men with the Twenty-ninth, and forcing them, wholly against their will, to become members of the Thirty-sixth Regiment. It was in effect a severe punishment for not being willing to serve the Government for a longer term than that which they had originally agreed to. If it had been simply an assignment to duty with the Thirty-sixth Regiment, there would have been no cause for complaint, and no injurious consequences would have resulted from it; but their names were to be dropped from the rolls of the Twenty-ninth, and as some of the transferred men were absent in hospitals and on detached duty, the names of the latter were not taken up on the rolls of the Thirty-sixth, and much confusion and difficulty as to their pay and discharge came from it. Colonel Barnes, who commanded the regiment at the time of the order, clearly foreseeing its baneful effects, attempted to have it modified; but he was unable to do so, and all the evils predicted by him finally became apparent. It was not till the midsummer of 1864, that the Government discovered this blunder, and then orders were issued directing the re-transfer of all non-re-enlisting men to their old regiments. At this time both the Twenty-ninth and Thirty-sixth regiments were at the front, engaged in the severe duties of an active campaign. Books and papers had been lost in the terrible marches and battles from the Wilderness to the James; officers and men had been killed; and not a few of the old officers of the Twenty-ninth had been discharged. The execution of the last-named order devolved on the Thirty-sixth Regiment; but they were, for the reasons already given, utterly unableto comply with it; and though every effort was made to set the matter right, and the commanding officer of the Twenty-ninth rendered all the aid in his power, yet the order could not be, and never was, fully executed. One of the most serious results of the original order of transfer was the loss of the final record of some of the transferred men, including several who were actually killed in battle while serving in the Thirty-sixth Regiment. The aged mother of one of these poor fellows, who was killed at the Wilderness, applied for a pension, and was informed by the pension officer that the rolls of the Twenty-ninth showed that the name of her son had been dropped, and that as the rolls of the Thirty-sixth Regiment did not bear it, the conclusion was he had deserted.
The movements of the regiment during February and March were so numerous, that we cannot describe them with much detail, but will speak of them briefly under their dates.
February 15. Moved camp to a place near Knoxville, in a drenching rain-storm. A part of the march was performed during the night, which was very black and wild.
February 18. Again moved, keeping near the city, however. The night was very cold.
February 24. The regiment and corps, including the Thirty-sixth Regiment, broke camp at daybreak, marched three miles beyond Strawberry Plain, and camped in the woods. During this march the officers were without horses, tents, or blankets.
Under the date of February 26, the diary of a field-officer of the regiment, from which we quote, has the following:—
“Same place. Sent the tents, etc., to the bridge to be taken to Knoxville. Move to-morrow, at daybreak. The little the ‘mess’ had to eat was destroyed by fire last night. I have no money, no horse; clothes in rags; boots worn through on the soles, and burnt; no tobacco; no chance to buy anything if I had money; couldn’t get forage if horses were here. Slept on the ground in front of a fire, with one ragged blanket. Very cold.”
“Same place. Sent the tents, etc., to the bridge to be taken to Knoxville. Move to-morrow, at daybreak. The little the ‘mess’ had to eat was destroyed by fire last night. I have no money, no horse; clothes in rags; boots worn through on the soles, and burnt; no tobacco; no chance to buy anything if I had money; couldn’t get forage if horses were here. Slept on the ground in front of a fire, with one ragged blanket. Very cold.”
If a field-officer was thus destitute, how much greater must have been the destitution of the men! The regiment had not been paid for more than six months.
February 27. Moved to Strawberry Plain. Crossed theHolston River in boats, and moved forward two miles into the woods. Encamped for the night.
February 28. Sunday. The horses were returned to the officers. The whole corps moved through New Market to Mossy Creek, a distance of eleven miles, and formed a camp.
February 29. Marched to Morristown. It rained in torrents all day and night. An attack by the enemy was rumored, and the troops received orders to be prepared for it.
March 1. In camp all day. Severe, cold rain. Many of the soldiers agree in saying, that this was one of the most uncomfortable days spent in the army.
March 2. Moved at half-past four,A. M., to Mossy Creek. At midnight the order came for the whole corps to retire across the creek. The blundering and confused manner in which the orders were given, indicated “that somebody in authority was badly frightened, without cause.”
March 3. Moved forward across the creek again, and camped.
March 5. The regiment had a skirmish with the enemy’s cavalry while on picket.
March 12. Colonel Barnes was placed in command of the Brigade, the command of the regiment devolving upon Major Chipman. Moved to Morristown.
March 13. The enemy attacked our pickets, causing some excitement, but nothing serious resulted.
March 14. The regiment and brigade marched with the First Brigade to a cross-roads, as a support to the latter, in their movement towards the enemy’s lines. While here the First Brigade dashed upon the enemy, and scattered and broke up one of his camps.
March 17. The regiment and corps moved through the woods and fields to New Market. The day was very cold, and the march extremely hard.
March 18. Marched to within seven miles of Knoxville, crossing the Holston on pontoons. The day was very cold. On the next day the regiment went into camp near Fort Sanders.
March 21. The corps and regiment marched to Clinton, nineteen miles, and encamped upon the banks of the Clinch River.
The regiment had already received orders to go to Massachusetts on its veteran furlough. It had been arranged for a part of the men—those who were the most destitute and unfit to march—to go by rail by way of Chattanooga and Nashville; while the balance, by far the minority, were to perform the march over the Cumberland Mountains. Captain Richardson was placed in command of the railroad party, and started on his trip about March 20. The mountain party under command of Major Chipman—Colonel Barnes having been assigned to the command of the Brigade—were provided with six pack mules and saddles, with which to transport their baggage over the mountains. The allowance was indeed scanty, for the march was to be a long one; no food could be obtained on the road, and these animals were to carry all the necessary stores, tents of officers, mess kits, and other baggage.
On the 22d of March, the Brigade was ferried across the Clinch River in scows. Here a furious snow-storm came on, which grew so severe as to prevent the balance of the corps from crossing. Colonel Barnes was ordered to move on without waiting for the rest of the troops; the air was biting cold and raw, and the roads frozen and slippery. The officers were compelled to dismount and lead their horses; while the men, many of whom were poorly off for shoes, suffered intensely from cold feet. Worn out, tired, and miserable as men could be, the camp was formed early in the afternoon in a forest near the roadside. To add to their misery, a heavy rain-storm set in soon after nightfall, continuing till morning. “Even the climate of East Tennessee seems to grudge us our departure, and to place all its impeding powers in the way of our passage homeward,” says an officer of the regiment in his diary, under this date.
March 23. The balance of the corps came up, and the march over the Cumberland Mountains was begun. From this time till the 27th, the troops were passing along over the mountain roads. On the 24th, the regiment camped at “Chitwoods.” It snowed all night, and the men slept upon the ground. On the 25th, the regiment marched all day, from early morning till late evening, in a hard rain-storm, and lay down upon the cold wet earth at night. The roadswere in a most shocking condition; so bad that the officers were obliged to dismount. The rain gave birth to innumerable torrents, which, rushing down the mountain-sides, plowed open great furrows in the road-bed, in some instances so wide that they could only be crossed by bridging. On the 27th, the troops reached Point Isabel, in the mountains, where there was a camp called “Camp Burnside.” The sutler stationed at this place, hoping to make a fortune in a day, very imprudently trebled the price of his goods. A murmur of disapproval arose among the men, which resulted in the whole of Ferrero’s division turning out and sacking the greedy trader’s booth, and making among them a distribution of his goods. There was a sort of wild justice about this performance, that so far commended itself to the officers of the corps, that the men were not interfered with or punished. At noon of this day, the regiment crossed the Cumberland River on pontoons, and at night went into camp at Somerset, Ky.
March 28. The march was commenced early in the morning, a halt being made for dinner on the same spot of ground where the regiment stopped for the same purpose in June, 1863. At night, camped (the third time) at Waynesborough. The men had a wet bivouac; it rained hard all night.
On the night of the 29th, the camp was formed at Hall’s Gap. A severe snow-storm set in as the sun went down, and continued all night, rendering the condition of the “boys” intensely miserable.
March 30. Marched through Stanford, and halted for dinner at Lancaster. The roads were covered with snow, and the weather was very cold. Went into camp about three miles from Camp Dick Robinson. The camp was made on the farm of an eccentric character, named Robert L. Route. He was the owner of a large plantation, and was in that region a sort of “land king,”—a man to whom the neighboring people always went for advice, and whose word was law; there were many such throughout the South. Route kindly invited the brigade commander and staff to spend the night at his house, a genuine country palace, where they were hospitably treated. During the night, some of the men very thoughtlessly cut down one of his fine black locust-trees. “When the old planter discovered the mischief, the next morning,he became exceedingly angry; but instead of going to the officers and making known his grievance, he knelt down under the windows of their bedroom, and in their hearing, invoked, in a long prayer, upon the heads of the soldiers who destroyed his locust-tree, the Divine wrath,—prayed that they might be suddenly removed from the earth, and consigned to the torments of the damned.
The officers feared an unpleasant reception at the breakfast table that morning; but Mr. Route’s hospitality was superior to his passions, and as though nothing of an unpleasant nature had happened, greeted them courteously.
After supper (the night before), Route brought in his little son, a youth of some nine or ten summers, whom he introduced to the officers as Robert L. Route, Jr., and standing him upon the table, made the following exhibition of his precocity: “Robert, my son, who was the greatest man that ever lived?” “Jesus Christ,” said the youth. “Right, my son; who is the next greatest man that ever lived?” “Abraham Lincoln,” was the answer. “Right, my son; and who is the next?” “Robert L. Route, my father,” answered the boy, with increased assurance. “Right, my son; and, gentlemen, isn’t this a boy to be proud of?” said the delighted parent. The officers increased the father’s happiness by saying that they thought the boy a very remarkable one indeed, and that his high estimation of his father’s worth was well grounded.
March 31. The regiment arrived at Camp Nelson at noon. Here four days’ rations were distributed among the men of the Brigade, after which it moved to Nicholasville, and took the cars for Cincinnati.
April 1. The Brigade arrived at Covington (opposite Cincinnati), and Major Chipman had orders to proceed with the regiment to Cincinnati. Crossed the Ohio to the city, and took up quarters in the Sixth Street barracks. Colonel Barnes gave up his command of the Brigade and joined his regiment. Colonel Pierce, who had been in Massachusetts for several weeks prior to this, upon learning of the arrival of the regiment at Cincinnati, came to that city on the 3d of April, assumed command, and on the 7th started with the regiment for Boston, arriving there about five o’clock on Saturday afternoon, April 9.
The regiment came home so unexpectedly, that no preparations were made to receive it, and the men, except those who belonged in the city, went into the barracks on Beach Street, while the officers took up their quarters at the United States Hotel. The Boston papers of Monday the 11th of April duly noticed the arrival of the regiment, the “Journal” devoting nearly a half-column to a description of it, the names of its officers, an account of the battles and campaigns in which it had been engaged, and said of it, among other pleasant things, “The Twenty-ninth has as good a record as any in the service, and deserves a hearty welcome.”
According to the report above alluded to, the regiment at that time numbered one hundred and sixty-six enlisted men. On this day the regiment was formally received by the State and city authorities. Escorted by the Cadets, it marched through the principal streets of the city. Dinner was served at the American House, to which all, both men and officers, were made welcome. Governor Andrew was present at the dinner, and made a most pleasing address. Speeches were also made by Colonels Pierce and Barnes, and by Captains Clarke and Leach. The command was dismissed at the close of the day, and the men, weary with the formalities of a public reception, went to their several homes, there to be received in a manner that more keenly touched their hearts; for there they were to be greeted by those who loved them, had a deep personal interest in their welfare, and who had waited and watched for them for nearly three long, weary years.
On the evening of the 19th of April, a reception levee was given to the members of the Bay State Guards, in the City Hall of Charlestown. The hall was elaborately decorated for the occasion, and fine music enlivened the guests. His Excellency Governor Andrew, and His Honor Mayor Stone, were present, and both made speeches to the veterans, welcoming them to their homes and the festivities of the evening. The levee ended with dancing and a collation.
Company C of East Bridgewater was also accorded a public reception soon after its return. The good people of Plymouth and Sandwich paid similar honors to their returning soldiers; but there was mingled with all these receptionsand kind greetings, much that tended to repress joy and gladness. The war-cloud still hovered over the land, darkening every hearth and every home. Even while the furloughed soldiers were listening to the strains of welcoming music, the booming of Grant’s cannon in the Wilderness was heard, and the knowledge that their own comrades, so unjustly separated from them, were fighting there, tinged all their enjoyment with sorrow, and filled them with troublesome apprehensions.
The Transferred Men in the Thirty-sixth Regiment—They March Over the Cumberland Mountains—Go With the Ninth Corps to Annapolis, Md.—The Corps Ordered to the Front—March Through Washington—Battles of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania—A List of the Killed—The Transferred Men Sent Home—They Meet Their Brothers of the Twenty-ninth Regiment in Washington—The Regiment Again in the Field—Assigned to the Fifth Corps—Battle of Bethesda Church—A Surprise and Narrow Escape—Re-assigned to the Ninth Corps—Battle of Shady Grove Church—To the James—A Long March—Battle of June Seventeenth—Tragic Death of the Three Color-bearers—The Flag Rescued—The Dead and Wounded.
The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts Regiment had been in the service since September 2, 1862, and had earned for itself a proud record. It was at the battle of Fredericksburg, in December, 1862, but lost only two men, wounded. It was attached to the Ninth Corps, and in February, 1863, accompanied the Twenty-ninth Regiment and the other troops of the corps to Newport News, and after spending about six weeks here in drill, went into the department of Ohio; did duty in Kentucky and Tennessee, and in June went to Vicksburg, taking part in the siege of that city, and later, in July, in the siege and battles about Jackson, losing several men killed and wounded. The regiment returned with the corps to Tennessee, in August, where it was engaged in the battles of Blue Springs and Campbell’s Station, and the siege of Knoxville. It was likewise at Blaine’s Cross-Roads, in December, 1863, and January, 1864, and suffered all the privations there endured by our army.
On the 21st of March, 1864, it commenced the march over the Cumberland Mountains to Nicholasville, Ky., a distance of about two hundred miles, where it arrived on the first day of April.
The regiment, containing the transferred men of the Twenty-ninth, reached Annapolis, Md., April 6, and went into camp. The corps had been ordered to this place to recruit, and during the seventeen days that it remained here, its numbers were considerably increased. The old regiments were filled up, to some extent, by re-enlistments and new levies; five cavalry and twelve infantry regiments, and five batteries of artillery, beside an entire division (Fourth) of colored troops, were added to the corps, making its strength about twenty-five thousand men. General Burnside was again assigned to the command of the corps, while General Ferrero was placed in command of the division of colored troops.
At an early hour in the morning of the 23d of April, the removal of the corps from Annapolis began. The Thirty-sixth broke camp before sunrise, and taking the track of the Elk Ridge and Annapolis Railroad, marched some thirteen miles, halting in some fields near the track for the night. Another very early start was made on the morning of the 24th, and in the course of six hours the regiment struck the Washington and Baltimore Turnpike. A brief halt was made for dinner, after which the march was resumed, the camp being formed at sunset about ten miles from Washington. Reveille sounded at four o’clock the next morning, but in consequence of the severe rain, the regiment did not break camp till four hours later, passing through Bladensburg on the march, and arriving in Washington at about mid-day, in advance of the other troops of the corps.
The report had reached Washington that the Ninth Corps was to pass through the city, and that among the troops was a division composed wholly of colored soldiers, and a large body of people gathered in the streets to witness this grand, and at that time novel, military parade. President Lincoln and his party, including General Burnside, had taken a position in the balcony of Willard’s Hotel. The streets were free from dust, and “a cool wind breathed through the soft air of the early spring”; the sky was cloudless, the bright rays of the sun lending beauty to the scene. A loud shout went up from the assembly when the head of the long column made its appearance. The veteran soldiers had exchanged the raggedgarments that they wore home from Tennessee for bright new uniforms; but they carried the same old tattered flags, which told a story of toil and suffering, that brought flowing tears to the eyes of many spectators. The appearance in the column of the colored division of General Ferrero produced the most intense excitement, and gave birth to rounds of cheers; for although these black men had been but a few weeks in the service, they manifested considerable excellence in marching. When this division reached Willard’s Hotel, and the eyes of the men fell upon “Massa Lincoln,” “a spirit of wild enthusiasm ran through their ranks; they shouted, they cheered, they swung their caps, in the exuberance of their joy.” Towards sundown, the Thirty-sixth crossed Long Bridge, and went into camp near Alexandria with the rest of the corps.
April 27. After a day’s rest, the movement into Virginia was again commenced. The regiment started on the road at ten o’clock in the morning, and marched all day, passing through Fairfax, and halting at night three miles beyond the village.
April 28. Broke camp at five o’clock in the morning, waded Bull Run about noon, and camped at night near Manassas Junction.
April 29. Turned out early in the morning, and after getting breakfast, packed up, marched about thirty rods, halted, stacked arms, marched and countermarched all day, and finally went into camp at night within a quarter of a mile from the place of the previous night’s encampment.
April 30. Started out of camp early in the morning, marched up the Alexandria and Orange Railroad about four miles, to a point about three miles from Catlett’s Station, and relieved a battalion of the Seventeenth Regulars, there stationed. The whole of the corps was stationed at various points along this railroad.
May 1. The regiment was mustered for pay. The camp was termed about twenty rods from the railroad, half-way between Catlett’s and Bristoe’s stations.
May 4. Orders were issued for the men to strike tents early in the morning, and soon after the regiment started upthe track, marched all day, and camped at night near Bealton Station.
May 5. Started at six in the morning, crossed the Rapidan on a pontoon bridge, and went into camp a mile beyond the river, in the woods.
May 6. The regiment was ordered out at an early hour, and started toward the Wilderness battle-field, joining the corps which was stationed near the Wilderness Tavern, and becoming hotly engaged in that terrible battle. Three times during the day the regiment with its division charged the enemy’s lines, manifesting the greatest bravery, but suffering serious loss. Major Draper and Captain Marshall were wounded; eleven of the men were killed, and fifty-one wounded. The regiment was also engaged May 7, but escaped without loss.
On the 8th and 9th, it marched a distance of about ten miles, to Chancellorsville, and on the following day marched from Chancellorsville to near Spottsylvania Court-house, where it went into the rifle-pits. Early in the morning of the 12th, General Hancock’s corps made a gallant assault upon a salient of the enemy’s works, carrying them, capturing General Johnston and his entire division and twenty pieces of artillery. The Thirty-sixth regiment, with the rest of the Ninth Corps, early engaged in the battle, which lasted for nearly three hours. The assault on the enemy’s works was followed by a counter assault upon our lines, which was many times repeated, but without success. The Thirty-sixth was stationed in thick pine woods, and the share which it took in the battle is well shown by its dreadful loss. Captain Bailey and Lieutenant Daniels were killed, and Captain Morse severely wounded; twenty of the men were killed, and fifty-six wounded, and among the killed, the following members of the Twenty-ninth Regiment: Sergeant William H. Mosher, Company B, who had but two more days to serve in which to complete his three years’ term; First Sergeant William T. Hamer, Company A; Edward P. Mansfield, Company C; James Ward, Company D; John K. Alexander and Lemuel B. Morton, Company E; and John E. Fisher, Company K. The term of service of the six last-named soldiers would have expired on the 22d, and in the cases of all, it seems tohave been a most cruel fate, that spared them through so many months of hardship and danger, and just as the end of their faithful service was near at hand, and the bright prospect of a happy return to their homes was rising up before them, cut them down upon the battle-field, and sent them to unknown graves. Probably there is no official record of their deaths, owing to the unfortunate circumstances attending their transfer; and but for the fact, that some of their comrades who fought with them escaped the battle and brought back to their friends these sad tidings, the author would not have been able to present this account of them, however meagre, nor to pay this deserved tribute, however poor, to their memory.
The diary of a soldier of the Twenty-ninth Regiment,46who was engaged in these battles, states that twenty-eight members of the latter regiment were wounded in this campaign; but it does not give their names, and the author has been unable to learn the names of only those of his own company, as the records of neither the Twenty-ninth nor Thirty-sixth regiments contain any information upon this point. For several days after the battle of May 12, the Thirty-sixth Regiment remained at the front, in the rifle-pits, almost constantly under fire. The term of service of the members of companies I and B (Twenty-ninth Regiment) expired on the 14th, and that of the others on the 22d. On the afternoon of the 17th, Sergeant-Major George H. Morse of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, who was serving with the transferred men, proceeded to the headquarters of General Burnside, upon a pass signed by the commanding officer of the Thirty-sixth Regiment, for the purpose of laying before the General the facts in regard to the transferred men, and obtaining from him an order for their discharge. Morse, who was somewhat noted for his persistency as well as his personal bravery, encountered great difficulty in obtaining an audience with General Burnside. The Adjutant-General informed the Sergeant-Major that he could not be permitted to see the General, and that his extraordinary request could not then be granted; but Morse was not to be put off even by a positive denial: heinsisted upon seeing the General, painted in strong colors and with eloquent words the wrongs of his comrades, and finally so far excited the interest of the Adjutant-General in his case, that he was admitted into the presence of the Commander. This point gained, Morse was certain of success; the good-hearted General listened with his customary patience to all the Sergeant-Major had to say, and then taking his pen, wrote an order directing that these men be immediately relieved from duty, and coupled the order with a pass to Washington. Proud of his triumph, Morse proceeded to the lines, took charge of the men, and immediately started with them for Belle Plain Landing.
The thirty days of furlough were gone before the re-enlisted men fully realized it. On the 16th of May, the Twenty-ninth Regiment was summoned to the front. The tattered old flags, having on their folds the battle record of the regiment, written by shot and shell, were turned over to the State authorities, and replaced by new ones, bearing in bright, golden letters the same proud inscriptions.
On the 18th, the regiment reached Washington, and went into barracks; on the following day, the transferred members of the regiment arrived in the city from the front, meeting their old comrades, from whom they had been separated for several months. This happy meeting was wholly accidental, and the greetings which followed were therefore all the more cordial. Since their sad parting in East Tennessee, their experiences had been widely different; for while some were fresh from their homes, others had just escaped from the tumult and carnage of the battle-field. The recounting of the hardships of the campaign then in progress, the recital of the thrilling incidents of these battles, the sorrowful tidings brought back by the returning veterans of the loss of this and that old brother, together with the painful certainty that some of those now going to the field would in the course of a few days be sleeping in soldiers’ graves, all operated to invest this meeting with an air of strange sadness, and to inspire in those who engaged in it the deepest feelings of fraternal love. On the morning of the 20th, the boys were compelled to separate, the regiment having received orders to march.
According to a roll prepared by Sergeant-Major Morse, the transferred men under his charge numbered eighty-three; namely, seven members of Company A, four of Company B, sixteen of Company C, eighteen of Company D, nine of Company E, one of Company G, three of Company H, one of Company I, and twenty-four of Company K. If this roll is correct, and the author has no reason to doubt it, then including: Morse and the seven who were killed at the Wilderness and Spottsylvania, it appears that ninety-one members of the Twenty-ninth actually served with the Thirty-sixth Regiment in this campaign. But this does not include all of the men who were actually transferred, as some of them were absent in hospitals and on special duty at the time of the transfer, and never joined the Thirty-sixth Regiment. The order of General Burnside directed that these men should proceed to Washington, there to be mustered out and paid; but not having been furnished with descriptive lists by the commanders of companies in the Thirty-sixth Regiment, it became impossible to properly execute this order. Encountering this difficulty, Sergeant-Major Morse applied to the Secretary of War, who, upon a representation of the facts, issued an order directing Morse to proceed to Boston with his men, and directing Major Clark, U. S. A., there stationed, to muster out and pay Morse and the members of his command. The squad arrived in Boston, May 23, but, upon the presentation of the order, Major Clark declined to comply with it, for the reason that the men were without descriptive lists, and it was therefore impossible to determine what amount was due them. The men were, however, dismissed, and allowed to return to their homes, when, after the expiration of several weeks, descriptive lists having been patched up, with the assistance of the officers of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, these worthy soldiers, who had had so little difficulty in entering the service, but so great trouble in leaving it, were finally mustered out and paid. They were among the best soldiers of the Twenty-ninth, and are deserving of a full share of its honors.
On the 20th of May, the Twenty-ninth Regiment took a government transport at Washington, and went down the Potomac, arriving at Belle Plain on the afternoon of the same day.
The regiment had recruited but little during its stay inMassachusetts, and having been greatly reduced in strength by a variety of causes, some of which have already been named, the number of commissioned officers was now greatly out of proportion to the number of its enlisted men, and in excess of that allowed by law. Accordingly, on the 22d of May, several of the old officers whose terms expired that day, were relieved of command, and left for Washington, there to be honorably mustered out of the service.
Among these faithful soldiers was Captain Lebbeus Leach, then about sixty-three years of age, whose hair was white as “the driven snow.” The loss of his companionship was deeply felt by those who remained to share still longer the fortunes of the regiment. In every place of peril, he had stood like a rock, chiding, by his manner, rather than words, all faintheartedness, and setting an example of bravery that never failed to animate all about him. The sort of stoical indifference which this old man manifested, not only towards danger, but extreme physical suffering, was remarkable, and has been often spoken of by his comrades.
Captain Samuel H. Doten, who left the regiment a little later, May 30, with the deserved brevet of Major, was another soldier of the Puritan type, and was fifty-one years old at the time of leaving the service. He was a man of strong religious convictions, and impressed all his comrades with a sense of his candor; his natural dignity and self-respect won for him that treatment which these qualities always secure, and he left the army deeply beloved by all who had enjoyed his acquaintance and friendship.
The departure of these and other officers furnished another occasion for sorrowful farewells, and was another breaking-up of old army associations,—relations that were sacredly cherished, as they had been formed amidst scenes of danger and suffering.
A provisional brigade of five regiments, among which was the Forty-sixth New York, the old friends of the Twenty-ninth, was formed from among the fresh arrivals at Belle Plain, and placed under the command of Brigadier-General Lockwood. On the 23d of May, these troops broke camp and marched to Falmouth, opposite Fredericksburg, and went into camp.
May 24. Crossed the Rappahannock on pontoons; took the “Bowling Green” road, and went into camp at one o’clock in the afternoon.
May 25. Moved at four in the morning, and halted for dinner at Bowling Green. Crossed the Mattapony River; marched through General Ferrero’s division of colored troops, into camp.
May 26. In camp all day. Rained during the night. In the midst of the night, the camp was alarmed, and the Twenty-ninth was sent out to reconnoitre, the men realizing that they were again soldiers in the field; the alarm proved to be unfounded.
May 27. The Brigade moved through a beautiful section of the country, and camped near Penola Station.
May 28. Passed through Aylettstown and camped near a place rejoicing in the euphonious name of “Cat-tail Church.”
May 29. Came up with the Army of the Potomac after crossing the Pamunkey River, and bivouacked in a field with other troops. The army of General Grant was then moving away from the North Anna River, and the enemy being in his immediate front, skirmishing was of daily and almost hourly occurrence.
May 30. The regiment was assigned to the Fifth Corps, First Division, Third Brigade, and the fact, that, upon being assigned to this corps, it should retain the same numbers, having been in the First Division and Third Brigade of the Ninth Corps, seemed a little strange. Both officers and men were, however, alike disappointed at this assignment, it having been their expectation to return to the old Ninth, with whose history their own was singularly identified.
On the first day of June, the whole line moved forward. The Twenty-ninth Regiment was ordered to send out one hundred men on the skirmish line, and Captain Thomas W. Clarke was placed in command of this force, which formed the extreme right of the corps line of skirmishers. On the immediate right of the line was a dense growth of woods and a morass, which the staff-officer who directed the movement said were “impassable”; but Clarke, who, during his three years’ service, had acquired a familiarity with the enemy’sways of fighting, was not satisfied with the staff-officer’s statement; there was a certain ominous silence about the dark woods especially, that greatly excited the Captain’s suspicions. His right was wholly unconnected with other troops, and his men too few to justify him in extending his line into the forest; if the enemy were lurking there, as he had reason to believe, his men were in imminent danger of being flanked, and he accordingly despatched an officer and squad of men to examine the place. The squad had scarcely entered the woods when the enemy commenced a violent attack all along the corps front, and at the same moment a large body of them came pouring out of the “impassable” woods, in the very faces of our men who had invaded their hiding-place. But for the starting into the woods of the squad, who could at best only give the alarm, the one hundred skirmishers would have been lost, and this result might have been attended with serious consequences to the whole line. As it was, an immediate and rapid retrograde movement became necessary, with a change of front, to prevent the enemy from moving directly to the rear of our line. The position of our men was both awkward and perilous, but they proved themselves equal to the emergency; changing front with great rapidity, they then fell back to the main line, firing deliberately as they did so, but suffering considerable loss. This movement resulted in a severe general engagement. The regiment formed in line at the breastworks, next the Eighteenth Massachusetts, and became hotly engaged, expending nearly all its ammunition. Toward night, the enemy were driven back, when the skirmish line was re-established and properly protected on the right. Considering the exposed situation of our hundred men, it is remarkable that their loss was not greater.
The death of private John C. Lambert of Company C was a shocking affair; he was wounded in the legs while in the edge of the woods, and left in that position by his comrades, who had no opportunity to remove him. Later in the day, the woods were set on fire, probably by exploding shell, and the poor fellow actually burned to death, his crisped and lifeless body being found by his comrades after the battle. Captain George H. Taylor and First Lieutenant George H.Long,47both of whom behaved themselves with great gallantry, were severely wounded. Martin Jefferson of Company F, and Charles Drake and Henry A. Osborne of Company C, were captured; and the following enlisted men were wounded: Sergeants Richard Harney of Company A, and Francis J. Cole of Company K; Privates Thomas Hawes and Charles Bassett of Company A; Thomas Manning and John Connolly of Company B; John A. Holmes of Company C; Perez Eldridge of Company D; and Abram Hascall of Company F.
Captain Taylor, though unfit for duty for some time, returned to the regiment, and served till it was mustered out, in 1865. The battle of this day has been called the battle of Bethesda Church.
June 2. About four in the afternoon, the regiment moved to the rear, the corps being engaged in a flank movement to the left. The enemy made a desperate attack upon our division during a severe rain-storm late in the day, and while the division was in a very disadvantageous position. Nothing save “the magnificent fighting” of the Regulars prevented serious disaster; they checked the enemy in his headlong charge, until the First Division could get into position in the rear. The Regulars then fell back in good order upon the division line, followed hotly by the enemy, who were met by a destructive fire, and after a long, hard fight, were repulsed with loss. The one hundred skirmishers of the Twenty-ninth were relieved at the front by a good Pennsylvania regiment of about two hundred men, which lost in this battle nearly half its number; showing how severe was the engagement, and how exposed the situation in which our comrades had been placed only the day before.
June 3. A welcome order from the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac transferred the Twenty-ninth Regiment from the Fifth to the Ninth Corps, and the regiment reported to General Burnside in the afternoon. On this day was fought the terrible battle of Cold Harbor, in which the NinthCorps bore the brunt of the battle on the right, losing in the engagement over one thousand killed and wounded. Owing to the lateness of the hour on which the order of transfer reached the regiment, it did not arrive at Burnside’s lines in season to take a very active part in the battle; but it moved promptly, however, and lay in support behind some old breastworks. One of our batteries, which was posted in the rear of these works, engaged in shelling the enemy, wounded Lawrence T. Chickey and Conrad Homan of Company A. Sergeant Samuel C. Wright of Company E was also wounded here by a rifle-shot from the enemy’s lines.
June 4. The enemy moved from our corps front, and the corps moved to the left along the rear of the army.
June 5. The corps moved in the afternoon and threw up breastworks. There was some hard fighting on the left, but the regiment did not become engaged.
June 6. The enemy opened a sharp fire on the corps front, but the men being well covered, no harm resulted.
June 7. Flag of truce to bury our dead in front of the Eighteenth Corps.
June 8. The Brigade relieved a brigade of the Second Division on outpost.
June 10. The regiment went out on the picket line.
June 11. On picket. All quiet.
June 12. The corps left its lines and marched rapidly all day and all night.
June 13. Moved along the south side of the Chickahominy, making a rapid march, and went into camp at eleven o’clock in the night, at Jones’s Bridge.
June 14. Passed Providence Forge, crossed the Chickahominy River in the forenoon, and bivouacked at Charles City Court-house.
June 15. At about half-past ten o’clock in the night, the regiment crossed the James River on a pontoon bridge, and marched the remainder of the night.
June 16. Marched till six o’clock in the afternoon, when the regiment reached the lines in front of Petersburg, and formed the third line of battle in the woods, under a fire of both musketry and artillery. The march since the night of the 15th had been terribly severe; the roads were dusty, andduring the day the mercury had stood at nearly 100°. Many men of the regiment—and of all the regiments—had been left on the road in an exhausted condition, so that when our lines were formed on the night of this day, the corps was but a skeleton compared with its former strength. An attack having been determined upon, orders were given to assault the enemy’s works early the following morning. General Potter’s division was selected to lead the assault.
June 17. At the first blush of day, the charge was made; the enemy’s lines were rapidly swept for nearly two miles, and four pieces of artillery, with their caissons and horses, a stand of colors, fifteen hundred stands of small arms, a quantity of ammunition, and six hundred prisoners, were captured.48
At daylight, the regiment and its brigade moved up, under a severe fire, and occupied one of the works that had just been captured by Potter’s men. Affairs remained in this condition till afternoon, when General Willcox made an attack, but he was repulsed with heavy loss. Shortly after this repulse on the right, and quite late in the afternoon, the division (General Ledlie’s) was moved forward into a ravine, where it was protected from the fire of the enemy. Colonel Barnes was placed in command of the Second Brigade, in which was the Twenty-ninth, with Captain Clarke as his Assistant Adjutant-General, while the regiment was commanded by Major Chipman. Colonel Barnes was told by General Ledlie, that the division was to assault the enemy’s works directly in its front, the First and Second brigades to charge in line of battle, and the Third Brigade to act as a support. The officers and men of the two brigades then crept up out of the ravine towards the enemy,—who were well entrenched and lay behind their works,—and formed one long line of battle, all lying flat upon the ground, waiting for the order to spring to their feet and dash forward. At this moment, an aid of General Ledlie’s crept out of the ravine, and approaching Colonel Gould of the Fifty-ninth Massachusetts, commanding the First Brigade, beckoned Colonel Barnes to him, and then stated to the two colonels, “in plain language,” that the proposedassault had been abandoned; that the men were to remain in their present positions till dark, when they would be retired into the ravine from whence they started. The two brigade commanders, Gould and Barnes, upon the reception of the above order, at once called to them their respective regimental commanders and communicated these instructions, and the latter crept back to their regiments and gave them to their men. The order not to advance was received with much satisfaction, for all realized fully the desperate nature of the undertaking. But the order had hardly been imparted to the troops, when suddenly there came an imperative order from General Ledlie to advance instantly. No time could be given for explanation; the order, “Forward!” was shouted along the line, and the men with cheers started on a rapid run. They had scarcely emerged upon the open plain, when the whole crest of the Confederate works was fringed with fire and smoke; grape, canister, and musket-balls filled the air. The first fire staggered the whole line, but for a short distance it struggled on, when without absolutely breaking, suddenly both brigades, as by one impulse, fell rapidly back. As the line was retiring, the Third Brigade, not having changed its position, rose up with cheers and moved forward. This checked the backward movement, and the three brigades, in one confused mass, with terrific shouts and yells, dashed over the field and into the enemy’s first line of works and captured them. The division had lost heavily in this action, and darkness soon coming on, all further offensive movements here ended.
Instances of great courage and individual daring are rarely wanting in a battle; but an exhibition of almost sublime courage, which occurred in this engagement, cannot with justice to the living and the dead be passed by in silence. Color-Sergeant John A. Tighe of Company K had permission from his officers to remain at his home in East Boston for a few days after the departure of the regiment. During the absence of Tighe, Sergeant Silas N. Grosvenor, Company C of East Bridgewater, had carried the national colors. As the regiment was preparing to move out of the ravine to charge the bristling works of the enemy, Tighe, who had just that moment reached the front, fresh from home, came up,and being color-bearer of the regiment, demanded of Grosvenor the flag. Grosvenor had carried the colors during all the long marches from Belle Plain to Petersburg, and being a high-spirited soldier, declined to give them up right on the eve of a battle, and thereupon a contention arose between the two brave men as to which should perform that most perilous service. Major Chipman, who was only holding temporary command of the regiment, as an act of courtesy, referred the matter to Colonel Barnes, who was near at hand. The decision was, that Grosvenor should carry the colors during the battle.
The regiment moved out upon the field; at the first fire, a musket-ball pierced the brain of the valorous Grosvenor, and he fell a bleeding corpse upon the ground. The colors had scarcely touched the earth before the hands of Tighe, who was in the color-guard, grasped the staff, and, proud of his soldier-trust, shook them defiantly towards the foe. His exultation was short-lived, for in a moment more another well-aimed ball laid low in death the heroic bearer. Again the flag went down, but only for an instant, for immediately it was seized by Sergeant-Major William F. Willis of Charlestown. A short advance in the hurry and tumult, and a third shot brought both flag and bearer to the ground. Now the line faltered and went backward, and the gallant old regiment for the first and only time in its history left the battle-field without its flag, but in the terrible confusion of the moment the loss was not discovered. When the fact became known, a minute later, a loud cry arose through the ranks, “We’ve lost our flag!” “We’ve lost our flag!” It was at this critical juncture that Major Chipman called for volunteers to rescue the colors; Corporal Nathaniel Burgess, Company E of Plymouth, and Private Patrick Muldoon, Company A of Boston,49quickly responded, and the second brave trio dashed out of the line and over the field, under the fire of a thousand muskets. The prostrate flag was seen just before them. But can they ever reach it?It is said that the enemy, filled with admiration for the daring of our men, perceptibly slackened their fire, and when the little squad bore off the flag in triumph, mingled their generous cheers with those of our own men.
The hands of poor Willis were found clutching the staff so firmly, that his comrades, who saved the flag he died to honor, were obliged to pry open his fingers in order to loosen his death-grasp, while the folds of the silken banner completely enveloped his body.
The conduct of Major Chipman and his comrades, which was witnessed by a large number of troops, caused them to be very conspicuous for their bravery; while Corporal Burgess, who actually bore off the flag from the field, for the part he took in the affair, was made a first lieutenant as soon as a vacancy occurred. The colors were found to be badly shot, and the staff broken in two places.
Captain Clarke, of whose good conduct the author has several times before had occasion to speak, was in the thickest of this fight, and was untiring in his efforts not only to urge, but to lead on the men. As the line fell back and melted away under the terrible fire from the batteries, Colonel Barnes, as commander of the Second Brigade, suddenly found himself at the front, without troops. It was at this critical moment that Clarke’s bravery shone out so brightly. Observing the perilous situation of his commander, he hastened to his side, to share with him the dangers and responsibilities of his position. “The supports will move forward, and we shall be all right yet,” was his confident remark. True enough, the supports did move, but not too soon to save the day.
A little more than three years before this day, these two officers, as Captains of companies A and K, both of Boston, were prominently engaged at Great Bethel, the first pitched battle of the Rebellion; and here, after all the vicissitudes of war, and a service peculiarly eventful, as Brigade Commander and Adjutant-General, they stood together on one of the bloodiest battle-fields of Virginia,—a field made famous alike by the valor of our soldiers and the revolutionary memories that clustered around the historic day.
The regiment went into this action with less than one hundredmen, and suffered a loss of twenty-nine officers and men killed and wounded,—about one-third of its number. The following is a list of the casualties:—