The Battle of the Wilderness. The Battle of Spottsylvania
Courthouse. Johnnies caught undressed. The Battle of Bethseda Church.
The Johnny who wanted to see the sun rise. Life in the trenches during
the siege of Petersburg. Wounded.
On the 23d day of April, 1864, we again started for the front,
leaving Annapolis with the rest of the 9th Army Corps. We passed
through Washington on the 25th, and were reviewed by President Lincoln
and General Burnside. That night we camped near Alexandria. On the 27th
we marched to Fairfax Court House; the 28th to Bristow Station. The
29th took us to near Warrenton Junction. The 30th we moved on a little
and camped near Bealton Station. Here we remained until the 4th of May,
when we moved forward to Brandy Station. We were then getting into the
immediate vicinity of the Army of the Potomac and the report was
circulated during the evening that that army had crossed the Rapidan.
May 5. The report that the Army of the Potomac was in motion and had
crossed the Rapidan was confirmed early in the morning, and we pressed
forward as rapidly as possible to join it. We reached the Rapidan in
the evening, crossed over at Germania Ford and went into camp.
May 6. We started before daylight and at eight o'clock reported to
General Hancock, who had just been pushing Lee's right flank back. We
were placed on the left of Hancock's corps. About ten o'clock, the 21st
was sent to make a reconnaissance. We formed a line at right angles to
Hancock's line of battle, well out in front of it, and swept clear
along past the whole front. This was a hazardous and mighty unpleasant
thing to do and we lost some men in doing it. When we got back, we took
a position on Hancock's right and were there when Longstreet's corps
made the advance in the afternoon. That was a pretty tough reception,
the Johnnies got in the part of the line where we were. We had three
solid lines of battle to meet them, drawn up on land sloping toward the
enemy. At the foot of the slope was the first line of battle; far
enough back to shoot over the heads of the men forming line number one
was line number two. The 21st was in the second line. Then far enough
back to shoot over our heads was line number three. We were all lying
flat on the ground. Two or three minutes before the Confederate line of
battle came into view, in our immediate front, two or three little gray
rabbits came jumping along towards us; at the same time we got glimpses
of the Confederate line of battle as it advanced off to our left, the
wood being less dense there, we saw the lines cross little openings.
The Johnnies came up with terrific force—three lines of battle
deep. They forced back our first line a little, but the second and
third lines never moved, but kept pouring the shot into them
unmercifully. They stayed there about twenty minutes to half an hour
and retreated. After they had fallen back many of us went down to our
front earthwork, from which our first line retreated and where the
Johnnies formed and where they stayed the few minutes they were in our
immediate front. There were a lot of dead and wounded men lying all
about there. As I looked about I saw a middle-aged man looking around.
He was examining the dead men in a most earnest way, I could not take
my eyes off of him. Directly, he found the one he was searching for, it
was a young boy, his son. He took hold of the boy's hand, he spoke to
him, but his son was cold in death. He sat down beside him and sat
there sobbing but motionless for a long time—the tears streaming from
his eyes. One of our boys ventured up to him after a while and inquired
if he knew the boy; “yes,” said he, “that is my Charley, that is my
cub; but he is silent now, once so full of life and so active.”
May 7. There was no fighting done. We lay quietly near the place
where the last fighting was done the day before. Early in the morning
of May 8th, we started on the march toward Spottsylvania Court House.
We passed Chancellorsville during the night and camped a little to the
rear of Fredericksburg during the afternoon. We moved forward a little
the 9th, and in the afternoon dug intrenchments along beside a small
stream,—I think it was the Ny. It was all quiet along our front when
we reached that position, but later there was a good deal of
sharpshooting. We were within a few hundred yards of Spottsylvania
Court House at that time, but neither Burnside or Grant knew it until
we had been moved away to the right, and it was too late to profit by
the advantage we had gained. We had got clear around on Lee's right
flank. The 10th, during the early morning, we moved around to the right
into a large pasture partly grown up. Sharpshooters were very active
all along our front. General Stevenson was killed by a sharpshooter at
that time.
About daylight in the early morning of the 12th we were awakened by
the bursting out of a fearful roar of infantry fire just to our right
where the second corps was. We were moved along a little nearer to it,
to the upper edge of a pasture next to some wood. While we were there a
shell burst right among a half dozen of us, a piece of which struck
Lawriston Barnes in the side, mortally wounding him. Augustus, his
brother, stood near and caught him as he reeled to fall. Volunteers
were called for to go up into the wood and make a reconnaissance. Tom
Winn offered to go and went, and in a few minutes he returned, bringing
with him a Johnny. A little later we moved up through the wood and made
an attack on some Johnnies in an entrenched position in an open field,
but we did not drive them out; they had the advantage of a strong
position and our force was too small to make such an attack with any
prospect of success. As we went up through the wood we passed a Johnny
who was killed while aiming his gun. He was lying flat on the ground
behind a stump. His head had dropped forward a little, but otherwise he
was in the exact position of aiming his gun; he had been shot through
the head and killed instantly. He was evidently one of the
sharpshooters who had been annoying us that morning when we were in the
edge of the pasture where Lawriston Barnes was killed.
That engagement of Hancock's corps at the salient, called also the
“bloody angle” has gone into history as one of the most desperate
engagements of the Civil War. We remained in the immediate vicinity
until the 19th, when we were moved away to the left, to the extreme
left of the army, I think, and threw up a lot of earthworks. We lay
quietly near our earthworks all day the 20th. The next day about the
middle of the afternoon we started for the North Anna River, marching
all night and all the next day through a most beautiful section of the
country and camping at night near Bowling Green. The 23d we approached
the North Anna River in the afternoon. The roar of the artillery just
ahead of us steadily increased until it became perfectly terrific. It
was the first time during the campaign the artillery of either army had
had an opportunity to make itself heard. Again, the artillery of the
two armies was separated from each other by a good-sized river; each
thus felt perfectly safe, and they barked away to their hearts'
content. Just before we turned into the field to camp for the night, a
cannon ball fired by the Johnnies at our artillery on the hill ahead of
us, struck the hill, then bounded along down and finally rolled along
the road among the feet of the horses of a regiment of cavalry that was
passing us—we having moved to the side of the road to let them pass.
The way those horses jumped around there indicated distinctly that they
knew what it was, and that they did not like the looks of it a bit.
May 24. During the middle of the forenoon we were moved down on to
an island in the river with another regiment, expecting to make a
charge across that part of the river on the Johnnies' works on the
other side. We stayed there a few hours, then returned without
attempting any advance. In the middle of the afternoon we moved up the
river a little way and crossed at Quarles Ford.
May 25. On picket duty out on the bank of a small stream. Captured
two Johnnies. I was on the picket line. We were placed quite a distance
apart, so I was entirely alone. The bank of the stream was quite high,
I being some twenty feet higher than the river and about ten or twelve
yards from it. I saw the Johnnies approaching me on the other side of
the river when some thirty or forty yards away. They were sauntering
along, their right hands holding a number of canteens, their left hands
their guns. I was lying behind the trunk of a fallen tree. I kept
perfectly quiet until they were about twenty or thirty feet from the
other side of the river, when I ordered them to throw down their guns.
They dropped them instantly. Then I ordered them to come in, which they
did without hesitation. They forded the stream, clambered up the bank,
and as they reached the top, stood still and apparently took in the
situation. They were men about thirty years old, one a medium-sized
man, the other a large man, five feet, ten inches or six feet tall. I
think they felt a little awkward as they discovered they had
surrendered to a mere boy. The larger one took a fancy to my gun and
stepped forward as if expecting me to hand it to him for examination. I
brought my gun down to the charge, cocked it, and told him to keep his
distance or I should shoot. The smaller man took hold of the other,
pulled him back and said to him, “Don't go near him, he'll shoot you.”
“You may be sure I shall,” said I. Then I started them to the rear,
keeping about a rod and a half behind them. When I reached headquarters
the colonel came out of his tent and came up to me and said, “What have
you been up to, Mad?” An officer stuck his head out of a nearby tent
and shouted, “Why didn't you bring in the whole regiment while you were
about it?” Another called out, “Tell us how you did it, Mad.” Another
answered back, “Ah, he surrounded them.” And so they had quite a bit of
good-natured fun at my expense. Well, a corporal and guard came and
took charge of the Rebs and I went back to my place on the picket line
again.
May 26. We recrossed to the north side of the river and went back to
near Oxford and went into bivouac. The army was on the move and we were
doing picket duty. I was way off in the wood, apparently all alone and
there was not another picket within fifteen rods of me. I was lying
down behind the trunk of a tree some twenty to twenty-four inches
through at the base. All at once I saw a Johnny coming down through the
wood. He was coming directly toward me, coming along quietly, glancing
now to the right, then to the left. I let him approach to within about
three or four rods of me when I ordered him to drop his gun. He dropped
it and came in. He was a big six-footer with a big, black beard eight
or ten inches long. I took him back to headquarters, turned him over to
the officer of the day and went back to my post again. This was great
luck for me. In two consecutive days I had, entirely alone and unaided,
captured three Johnnies,—two at one time and one at the other; and
they were the only men I captured unaided during the whole war.
May 27. Some of our boys had a little fun with some Johnnies that
morning. The Johnnies shot across the river and killed a cow that
belonged to a farmer living nearby. Then they stripped off their
clothes and swam the river, intending to have a good cut of beef for
dinner. As soon as they were over the river our boys appeared, took
them prisoners and marched them off to headquarters just as they were.
The armies had both gone. We were the pickets of the rear guard. We had
been keeping very quiet in the wood, and the Johnnies probably thought
we had all gone. Well, they did not have meat for dinner and we did.
About noon we left the North Anna and followed on after the army. The
28th we marched all day and most of the night, but during the night the
marching was less steady, the artillery that was ahead of us was
obliged to repair the roads in two or three places which caused delays.
During those halts the boys would, every one of them in two minutes
after the halt was made, be lying beside the road fast asleep. On a
long, hard march there is always more or less straggling and those
fellows once behind may have quite a little trouble in finding their
regiments again; but they go straggling along inquiring for their
regiments, brigades or perhaps their army corps, etc. Well, that night
as we were lying beside the road asleep, an officer came along—a very
important and very arrogant fellow—he woke up Tom and asked what
regiment that was. Tom rubbed his eyes, looked about and shouted loud
enough to be heard a quarter of a mile, “The 279th Rhode Island.” A
little way off another fellow piped up, “That is a blasted lie, this is
the 119th Ireland;” the officer made no reply but moved on.
In this campaign there is firing going on somewhere along the line
most of the time. For any one who has not been in a real hard campaign,
it is impossible to imagine what life is like there—especially nights.
If near the enemy thus being unable to have any fire with which to cook
a cup of coffee, having nothing to drink but cold water and nothing to
eat but hardtack with perhaps a slice of salt pork. A roar of musket
fire along the picket line giving one a start and waking him up,
stragglers tumbling over you or waking you up to inquire for their
regiments, sleeping on the ground perhaps in a rain-storm are all in
the regular order of experience. On the 30th of May we reached Cold
Harbor, we were advanced into a position near Shady Grove and told to
throw up some earthworks. The pickets seemed only a few steps in front
of us and were firing away like mad; the bullets coming over where we
were altogether too thick for comfort. May 31. We stayed in that
position all day and that night I was detailed on picket. About
midnight I went on duty, we went down across a large field and clear
down on the farther side, relieved the pickets in little holes they had
dug to conceal themselves in. There were spades there and before
daylight we had increased the size of the holes so they were fair-sized
rifle pits. When that line was established it was done just about as
badly as it could be. It was placed clear on the farther edge of a
large field about four or six rods from the edge of the wood, the
Johnnies' line of pickets being in the edge of the wood. About ten
o'clock the officer of the day appeared about thirty or forty rods to
the rear and signaled for me to go back and get orders. I was acting
sergeant at the time and had command of the pickets of that part of the
line. I went back to him, got my orders and returned to my post again.
That was the most perilous duty that fell to me to perform all alone
during my whole service. As I went back I was a single mark for from a
dozen to fifteen Rebs for a run of fifteen rods, and on my return just
the same again, and that time I was running directly toward them.
It was a common thing in those days to hear the bullets zip past
one, but a thing occurred then that was new to me. It was a plowed
field I was crossing and as the bullets struck the ground they would
kick up a little dust. I remember distinctly seeing those miniature
clouds of dust three or four times on those runs.
As near as I can judge I was fired at about twelve or fifteen times
each way, but I escaped without a scratch. Had they had some decent
shots there I would have been shot into mincemeat and why I was not is
a thing I have never been able to understand. Some of our boys in the
rifle pits declared they heard the Johnnies clap as I jumped down into
the rifle pit on my return. Well, in the middle of the afternoon when I
received the signal to fall back I gave the order, but not more than
half the men struck out,—the remainder preferring to remain there and
be taken prisoners rather than take the risk of that run across the
field. When I got back fifteen or twenty rods I turned and looked back.
The Rebs were taking those of our boys that remained, out of the rifle
pits. We now formed a skirmish line and fell slowly back. The
Confederates formed their skirmish line and began to follow us up. The
retreat down to Bethseda Church, a distance of about three or four
miles, was most exciting, the Johnnies following us up pretty closely.
But once in a while we would make a stand. Then they would bring up
their artillery, and lines of infantry would swing into place. Then we
would quietly drop back again. When we reached the vicinity of Bethseda
Church there were lines of battle everywhere. We were ordered back to
the rear of the lines and were then sent to our regiments. The 21st was
quite a little way off to the left. Emmons had just been killed when I
found the regiment. Marcus Emmons was a Hardwick boy. He was an
awkward, unsoldierly appearing man, but he was a man of considerable
intellectual ability and a man of splendid character; and, so far as I
ever saw, he was as brave as the bravest, without any show or parade,
but always did his duty faithfully. Had he been possessed of a fine
soldierly figure and bearing, he could just as well have held a
commission as lieutenant-colonel or colonel as to have been a sergeant.
That night we camped right near the battlefield, and early the next
morning I got up and started to take a walk over the field out near the
Confederate battery where so many horses were killed. I found a live
Johnny; there were a number of dead men lying about among the caissons
and dead horses, but one I saw moved. I went up to him and greeted him
and asked him if he was badly wounded. “Yes,” said he, “I guess it is
all up with me.” He was lying flat on his back and appeared to be
unable to move, gazing up into the sky, his eyes were restless and
rolling. He had been shot through the body and his spinal column had
been injured, I think. All but his hands seemed paralyzed, those he
could use a little. I inquired if I could do anything for him. “Yes,”
said he, “I wish you would turn me over on to my side so I can see the
sun rise.” The sun was just about to appear over the eastern horizon. I
turned him over on to his side, then I found a canteen and went to get
a canteen of water for him. When I got back fifteen minutes later the
poor fellow was dead. He had fallen asleep to awake, I trust, to a more
glorious sunrise than that early sunrise of June 3d, 1864.
From the 2d to the 12th of June the 21st was not seriously engaged.
There was more or less fighting along the line, but it was not our
fortune to be in it.
In the evening of June 12th, we left Cold Harbor and in the evening
of June 14th we were at Charles City on the James. We crossed the river
on a pontoon bridge about midnight of the 15th and started for
Petersburg as fast as we could go, arriving there late in the
afternoon. It was on this march I fell out, the first and only time I
every fell out on a march. My shoes were worn so badly they hardly
protected my feet at all and they galled me murderously. I fell out
beside a brook, gave my feet a good bath, made a cup of coffee, took a
little rest and then went on, coming up with the regiment during the
evening. The boys were engaged at about six o'clock when the 9th and 2d
Corps made the first attack on Petersburg. Our boys drove the Johnnies
from the first line of works, and the next morning when we moved
forward we found the next line abandoned. During the night we moved to
the right and forward preparing for another advance at daybreak. When
we advanced the morning of the 17th, I was on the picket line; as we
passed a deserted line of earthworks I saw a dead Johnny lying in one
of the trenches. He had an open letter in his hand, I took the letter
from his lifeless fingers folded it and put it in my pocket, when I had
a chance to read it I discovered it was from his sweetheart at home in
Georgia. He had evidently thought of her when he found himself mortally
wounded, had taken the letter from his pocket and died while reading
it.
There were two more incomplete lines of works in our front. We hoped
to take both these lines, but being unsupported we succeeded in taking
only one. During the day some reinforcements arrived and a regiment was
put right in front of us; we thus had two lines of battle with which to
advance, they going ahead. In the early evening the order came to
advance. The regiment in front of us that was to take the lead never
moved a peg, and we were obliged to charge right over them. On each of
our flanks there were good strong lines, so being well supported on
both sides we captured both lines. Some distance to our right our men
were less successful, they did not take the last line, and soon began
to draw regiment after regiment from our force, until we were so spread
out to cover the line, we did not have more than one man to each six
feet. A continuous fight was kept up until about midnight, when our
ammunition running low, our firing became slack. The Johnnies doubtless
noticed that, made an advance and we were forced back to the second
line again. As we left those works two things occurred that are worth
mentioning. In front of us was a wood, directly in front the wood came
up to within fifteen or twenty feet of our works. To the left the space
between the breastworks and the wood was much greater. So as the
Johnnies advanced they came in sight in the open space to the left
first, and I fired at them there. Then I set to work to load my gun;
but before it was finished they were coming out of the wood and across
the narrow space right in front of me. I put on a cap and fired at a
man only a few feet away with my ramrod still in my gun. The Johnny was
doubled up. I think my ramrod hit him right in the stomach. Then I
skipped for the rear. The regimental colors were a little way to my
right. Captain Sampson was right near them. Three Rebs started for our
colors about the time I shot my ramrod into the Johnny. Captain Sampson
jumped up on to our works and cut one of them down with his sword. The
other two retreated. Then Captain Sampson and the few men there were
remaining with the colors also fell back. I hunted about and got me a
complete gun and I found a dead man with some cartridges in his
cartridge box. These I appropriated. So I was all right again.
In the early morning of the 18th preparations were made for another
advance; but when the pickets went forward they found the works we had
captured and lost the night before were deserted. The Johnnies had
fallen back about a mile to a shorter line of works nearer the city.
The next night we moved up to a desirable position at an average
distance of one hundred and fifty yards from their works, and commenced
putting up earthworks for siege purposes. During the next ten days it
was remarkable to see how the fortifications appeared. They sprung into
existence as if by magic. The 9th Army Corps was the second from the
Appomattox River; Hancock with his corps being on our right. And thus
we came into position in front of Cemetery Hill. As we lay there about
four hundred feet from the crest of the ridge, there was a little to
our left a slight elevation, a little knoll. On this prominence the
Confederates located a six-gun battery, which was known as Elliott's
salient. It was this battery that was destined later to be undermined
and blown up.
Two nearly parallel lines of intrenchments were laid out for the
infantry, varying from 150 to 300 yards apart. At first most of the
work had to be done at night under the cover of darkness. But later on
after the works were under way and we had got our bearings we could
plan to work during the day. The top of the intrenchments were finished
in such a way as to cover one's head when firing. We were furnished
with bags. These we filled with dirt and piled up on top in such a way
as to make loopholes through which to fire. Fortifications for the
artillery had also to be built. They were located on the more elevated
parts of the field and on a line with, or to the rear of, the second
line of intrenchments of the infantry. It was soon arranged so the
troops in the two lines alternated each other, each taking his turn for
three days in the front line and then having three days in the second
line. But in the matter of danger the difference was slight. The lines
were so near together and both so near the Confederate works, the men
in either were within easy range of the enemies' sharpshooters. The men
in the second line, however, had some advantages. They could have a
little covering over their heads to keep off the blazing rays of the
sun. They could also take off their accoutrements and unloosen their
clothes at night and so get a little better rest. While in the front
line no covering as a protection against the sun could be used. One
must keep his accoutrements on, and his musket, if he laid it down,
must be within his reach.
In addition to the regular intrenchments for the infantry and forts
for the artillery, there were, just to the rear of the first line of
breastworks, passages connecting the different intrenchments and
batteries. These were about six feet deep and eight or ten feet wide;
they ran everywhere. With these and the regular breastworks the ground
was completely honeycombed. In front of our breastwork was a ditch, an
abatis and a line of barbed wire entanglement. The Confederate and our
lines were so near together that every possible thing was resorted to,
to prevent being surprised or to check an advancing line of battle. A
view across the field was peculiar, not a man could be seen. Lines of
abatis, barbed-wire fences, piles of earth with the black noses of
cannon projecting out between them, was about all one could see. In the
course of ten days after our lines were established we were pretty well
dug in, so the ordinary rifle of the infantry, the field artillery and
even the siege guns, did not disturb us much. The mortars, however, we
did not like; the shells from them, we had not, at the time I was
wounded, learned to avoid. Later on, bomb proofs were built back of the
second line; these the boys could get into when off duty and be
protected. Life in the trenches was dreary and trying, although in ways
interesting. The Johnnies did not keep up a continuous fire, but once
in a while they would throw over a dozen or twenty shells, apparently
to stir us up to see how we liked it.
One day, four of the boys in the second line were sitting on a
blanket playing pitch, when, with a terrific whiz and shriek, down came
a mortar shell and buried itself in the earth within three feet of one
of them. The way those boys rolled and tumbled over each other to get
out of the way of that shell, was interesting to see, but it only gave
them a start; it did not burst and no one was hurt.
Weren't we indignant one noon? The cook had just brought up from the
rear a kettle full of fine smoking hot baked beans. He had just set
them down and stepped back a pace or two, the boys were all skurrying
around getting their plates so no one was very near, a shell came down
and burst right beside that kettle of beans and knocked it all to
atoms. One boy who was some ten or twelve feet away was hit in the side
by a piece of the shell. It cut a groove out of his side as clean as a
gouge cuts a groove from a piece of wood. An amusing thing happened the
other night over a little way to our left where they were using pack
mules for working squads. A mule loaded and bristling with shovels,
picks and axes, broke loose from his company and, with fearful clatter,
went charging fearless and alone. The Rebs, believing they were being
charged upon by our cavalry, were for an instant in confusion, but got
into their works and opened fire on our friend with long ears. The mule
not liking that kind of a reception whirled about and came cantering
back to his comrades again. As the mule came prancing back, it dawned
upon the Johnnies what had really happened and they began to laugh, our
boys hearing them joined in and for an instant a perfect roar of
laughter and shouts rang along both lines. In that way, under those
conditions the siege went on; under those conditions we lived. To stay
in those trenches in that terrific heat, with not a breath of fresh
air, in the dirt—for every spear of grass had early disappeared—was a
thing only the most hardy could endure. I early formed the habit when
we were in the second line, of rising a little while before daylight in
the morning and going down to a little stream in our rear and taking a
bath. And it was while returning from one of those trips, the morning
having got a little advanced, I was hit by a sharpshooter. The ball
passed through my left thigh about half way from my hip to my knee,
passing just behind the bone from the right side to the left. I crawled
back to a place of cover. Then some of the boys came with a stretcher
and carried me back to the place where the ambulances were kept. From
there I was taken in an ambulance back to the hospital, in the rear of
the fighting line some mile and a half or two miles away.
Along most of the line there was little picket firing. Men moved
about exposing themselves to considerable extent. But in front of the
9th Army Corps there was continuous firing from the beginning. The
third division of the 9th Army Corps was a division of negro troops.
The Confederates knew this and resented it and in this way took their
revenge, although the negro division was not present until after the
mine explosion.