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Drum Taps in Dixie
DRUM TAPS IN DIXIE
MEMORIES OF A DRUMMER BOY J>.
I 8 6 I - 1865
BY je
DELAVAN S. MILLER
Watertown, N. Y. "3fuR3erfor6-"3ifolbrooK (Co.
1905
LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received
DEC 14 1905
CoDyrlght Entry . cuss A. XXc. No. ' COPY B. '
Copyrighted 1905 By Delavan S. Millbr
Published December, 1905
HUNGERFORD-MOLBROOK CO. WATERTOWN, N.Y.
Affectionately dedicated
to my Wife and
Children.
Preface
g CHANCE meeting with a comrade who was instrumental in saving from capture a piece of artillery at the second battle of Bull Run suggested one of the several sketches grouped together in this volume.
Memory awakened furnished material for those that followed, each article recalling faces, forms, scenes and incidents from out of the misty past.
"Awake but one, and lo ! What myriads rise!"
The writer has enjoyed his reminiscing. It has been a labor of love, so to speak, enabling him in a measure to live the old days over again.
The articles have been written at odd times af- ter business hours, and should not be scrutenized too closely from a literary standpoint.
The writing of the memories of a drummer boy has been a source of pleasure and rest to the writ- er, who sincerely hopes that the reading of them rnay not weary those who, in their hours of rest, may scan these pages.
Del A VAN S. Miller.
Prelude — The Drum's Story
ES, I am a drum, and a very old drum at that. l\Iy leather ears are twisted and brown. My shiny sides are scratched and marred. IMy once b-^autiful white head is patched and blood-stained. Yet, I am loved and tenderly cared for; have my own cosy corner in the attic and am better provided for than many of the brave men who fought for the Union. So I am content. I have lived my life. Was ever ready for duty. JNIade lots of noise. Have led men on the march and in battle. Now I am laid aside, grov.'ing old like all the boys of '61.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
I
CHAPTER I.
OFF FOR THE WAR.
^^W^ HEN the news was flashed across the ^ I J country that Fort Sumter had been fired V^^ upon the writer was a 12-year-old boy residing in West Carthage. The events of those days stand forth in his memory Hke the hillcrests of a landscape.
The shot electrified the north, and the martial current that went from man to man was imparted to the boys. Favorite sports and pastimes lost their zest. Juvenile military companies paraded the streets every evening and mimic battles were fought every Saturday afternoon.
The flag lowered over Fort Sumter was unfurled everywhere. Flags cost money in those days, too, but they were flung to the breeze from the tops of churches, school houses, business places and the homes of the rich and the poor. I used to go up on the roof of my home nearly every day to count the new banners.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The rendezvous for the boys of our neighbor- hood was Jim Corey's blacksmith shop. Jim was a typical "village blacksmith" with a hearty greet- ing for every one, old and young. The boys could always count on Jim's sympathy if they had a stone bruise, got a licking at home or lacked ten cents of the price of a circus ticket.
Corey's shop was also a favorite meeting place for the men. Here they would assemble after sup- per and discuss the all-absorbing topic, the war.
One of the most regular in attendance was "Wash" Hopkins, as he was familiarly called. A particular nail keg with a piece of buffalo skin thrown over the end was the seat always reserved for him. He usually allowed the others to do the talking, but when he had anything to say it was right to the point.
Almost everybody was of the opinion that the South was putting up a big game of bluff and that the affair would blow over quickly.
On one occasion those gathered in the black- smith shop had been discussing the situation and were pretty unanimous that the rebellion would be crushed out in sixty days. "Wash" roused him- self and quietly remarked: "Guess you'd better make it ninety, boys."
At another time a young man was telling those assembled that he had enlisted in a company of sharpshooters ; that they were going to pick off the rebel officers and artillerymen as fast as they
10
Drum Taps in Dixie.
showed themselves, which would demoralize the troops and send them flying from the field. "That's all right," says "Wash," "but what do you sup- pose the other fellows are going to do while you're shooting at them? Perhaps they may have sharp- shooters, too,"
How little I thought in those early days of the war that Corey and I would be soldiering in the same company and regiment a few mon,ths later.
I recall the thrilling war meetings that were held in the churches and school houses. There was scarcely a place in the county where there was a store and postoffice that did not have its war meet- ing each week. It is worthy of mention that the most enthusiastic speakers on such occasions were eager to enlist — others. There comes to my mind the names of several who were always urging others to enlist, but who stayed at home and coined money while others fought, and after the war labored to have refunded to them by the taxpayers the money that they had expended for a substitute,
Carthage sent volunteers promptly in response to Lincoln's call, and a few days after the fall of Sumter about two dozen young men left to join the old 35th New York infantry.
There was no railroad to Carthage in those days, and they rode away in wagons drawn by four horses. The scene comes before me as I write. The sad partings, the waving banners, the cheers of the multitude who had gathered to see them off to
11
Drum Taps in Dixie.
the war. Those were anxious, exciting days that the present generation know but little about.
Among that party of first volunteers was a fav- orite cousin of the writer who was scarcely seven- teen years old. . The one thing above all others that I wished as I saw him ride away was that I was old enough to go, too.
Patriotism ran high in Carthage, and the town sent more than its share of volunteers in the early days of the war before there were any big boun- ties and when the pay was $11 per month.
One bright morning in the fall of 1861 a motherless lad of less than thirteen saw his father go away with a company of men that had been re- cruited for the Morgan Flying Artillery, then being organized at Staten Island, in New York harbor. He wanted to go with his father, but the suggestion was not listened to.
After the regiment was sent to Virginia Capt. Smith of the Carthage company returned home after more men. He brought a letter to the little lad from his father and, patting the boy on his head, asked him in a joking way how he would like to be a soldier. This gave the boy an opportunity that he was wanting, and he pleaded with the officer to take him back with him. The mother was dead, the home was broken up; the little fellow argued that he would be better off with his father.
The tender hearted captain sympathized with the boy, but said he did not know what he could do
12
Drum Taps in Dixie.
with such a httle fellow. The boy would not be put off, however. He had inherited persistency froui his Scottish ancestors, and after much importun- ing the captain said 'that he did not know how it could be managed, but he would try to take the boy back with him.
In March, 1862, when two months past thir- teen years old, the one of whom I write started for the war with a squad of recruits in charge of Sergt. Wesley Powell. Strange to relate, this same Powell, two years and a half later, had charge of a detachment of soldiers carrying ra- tions to their comrades on the firing line in front of Petersburg, when a shell burst so close to them that several were stunned, although not seriously injured, and among them was the boy who went to the war with the sergeant so long before.
A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SOLDIER.
Forty-two years and over have not dimmed the recollections of the day when the start was made for the war. The boy got up bright and early and wen't all around among his neighboring play- mates and bade them good-bye. Didn't he feel important, though.^
The party rode to Watertown in wagons, and after a supper at the old American hotel, boarded a train for New York. It was the first ride on the cars for our young volunteer.
The boy might live to be one thousand years 13
Drum Taps in Dixie.
old, but he could scarcely forget Broadway as it appeared to him that spring day in 1862.
He remembers that the next day when they were on a train passing through New Jersey, a party of boys from a military school boarded the car. They were dressed in natty new uniforms, of which they were evidently very proud. Sergt. Powell wore the regulation artillery uniform of that period, which was quite stunning with the red fac- ings and brass epaulets, and a hat of black felt caught up at the side and ornamented with a black plume. Powell got into conversation with the school boys and finally brought them over to where his party was seated and said: "I want to have you meet a little boy who, athough he is not in uniform, is going to be a real soldier."
If there are any old veterans reading this, they will have most pleasant recollections and ever feel grateful to the good people of Philadelphia for the treatment 'they received whenever they passed through the city going to or from the war. No boy in blue was ever allowed to pass through the city without being well fed and comfortably cared for, if he remained there over night. Our party passed the night there and took an early train for Washington.
Baltimore had earned an unenviable reputation by its hostility to the northern soldiers and there Avas always apprehension that a train bearing any soldiers might be stoned or fired upon. Sergt.
14
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Powell was quite a joker and he had Avorked upon the fears of the party in his charge so much that two or three were badly frightened when the train pulled into the city. The reception was in marked contrast with that in Philadelphia, but the pas- sage through Baltimore was without incident.
From Baltimore to Washington there was abun- dant evidence that the field of operations was not far distant. The railroad was heavily guarded, and camps of soldiers were frequently seen. The boy who two days before had left a quiet country town had to pinch himself occasionally to see if he were really awake and that it was not all a dream.
Washington swarmed with soldiers. Troops were camped right in the heart of the city. Heav- ily laden wagons with the wheels in mud and ruts clear up to the hubs were pulled through Pennsyl- vania avenue by six and eight mule teams. The capitol and the Washington monument were then unfinished.
Our party made a shor't stay in the city and took boat for Alexandria, an old-time southern town with hordes of negroes, slave pens and other reminders of the ante-bellum days.
It was a three mile walk to the forts occupied by the Second New York Heavy Artillery. The reg- iment that afternoon was practicing firing the big cannons in Fort Worth. There were some 32 and 64 and two 100-pounders in the fort, and the small
15
Drum Taps In Dixie.
boy who had never heard any ordnance except an old moss-back cannon at a Fourth of July celebra- tion remembers that the cold chills went creeping up his back as the party drew near the fort, for the earth fairly trembled when the big "dogs of war" barked. The father had not been notified that his son was coming to join him, and conse- quently you may be sure that he was more than surprised when he saw an officer leading by the hand a little lad whom he supposed was so far away.
The father was a man of few words — "what couldn't be cured must be endured," so he brushed two or three tear drops away and went back to the command of his gun squad and the boy sat down on a pile of cannon balls, smelled burning powder and heard the roar of the big guns until he was not sure but that he would prefer to be back in York state.
This was in the early days of the war and there was not much system about anything. Probably if it had been a year later and the boy had had to pass a regular examination and muster he would have been sent home. But he, with the rest of the recruits, was merged into the company without any formalities. It did puzzle the captain, though, to know what to do with the youngster, and one day when the regiiment was out for in- spection the colonel said to Capt. Smith: "Mein
16
Sergt. I.oten Miller Father of Author.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Gott, captain ! pe you taking soldiers from the cradles?"
Smith said: "I know I have got a number of quite young soldiers, colonel, but you will find that Co. H will keep its end up with any organ- ization in the regiment."
The first night in camp the boy did not sleep well. The artillery practice in the fort after his arrival and the thunder of the 32 and 64-pounders and the smell of the burning powder weakened his boyish enthusiasm somewhat. And then the bed he had to sleep on was something different from what he had been accustomed to. So after the bugles had sounded "lights out" he lay awake a long time, listening to the singing of the whip- poorwills and thought of the great change that had come into his life in so short a time, and won- dered if the realities of a soldier's life would meet his expectations.
A NIGHT ALARM.
Suddenly like a clap of thunder from a clear sky came the report of a musket outside the fort. The bugles sounded the alarm, and the drummers in the neighboring camps rattled off the "long roll" with a recklessness characteristic of youth.
"Turn out ! Turn out ! Turn out !" the bugles sounded. "Fall in ! Fall in ! Fall in !" yelled the orderly sergeants, and, half dressed, the men were marched into the fort and stationed at the guns. 2 17
n ^-^ t* ^'^''^'^ ^^^^ Taps in Dixie. ^1^ *' "^ /mules of the wagon trains, and after a couple of [jiowhere else for him to go.
The commotion soon subsided and there was not a sound except for the neighing of the horses in the cavalry camps and the whinnering of the mules of the wagon train, and after a couple of hours' waiting the men were marched back to their company streets. In the morning it was learned that the alarm was occasioned by the attempt of a detachment of Mosby's men to steal some horses from a cavalry camp.
These midnight excursions of the famous Con- federate "Rough Rider" Avere of frequent occur- rence during the first two years of the war.
THE FIRST UNIFORM.
The young recruit's first uniform was a bad fit. The coat sleeves and pants were several inches too long, but a camp tailor fixed them and the first day the boy wore the suit he did as every other volunteer before him had done, went and posed for a *'tintype" before a background represent- ing various scenes of military life. Some of the specimens of the photographer's art in those days were enough to make a horse laugh.
The Second New York had been organized as a light artillery regiment and were then known as the "Morgan Flying Artillery," so called in hon- or of Gov. Morgan, but only one company got their guns and horses when it was decided that no more light batteries were wanted. So the balance
18
Drum Taps in Dixie.
of the regiment was turned into heavy artillery (heavy infantry.)
A DRUMMER BOY.
The change called for fifers and drummers in- stead of buglers, and the Jefferson county boy was the first drummer the regiment had, his drum being a present from the officers at Fort Worth.
A full regimental drum corps was soon organ- ized, and right here it may be proper to say that an old army drum corps in the sixties could make music. A boy would not "pass muster" in those days unless he could do the double and single drag with variations, execute the "long roll," imitate the rattle of musketry, besides various other ac- complishments with the sticks. And when a dozen or more of the lads, with their caps set saucily on the sides of their heads, led a regiment in a review with their get-out-of-the-way-Old-Dan- Tuckerish style of music, it made the men in the ranks step off as though they were bound for a Donnybrook fair or some other pleasure excur- sion.
THE FIRST DRUM.
It is with feelings of real tenderness that I write of my first drum. It was none of the com- mon sort such as furnished by Uncle Sam, but was the best that money could buy, and was a gift from the officers at Fort Worth in the spring of 1862. A requisition for instruments was a long time in being filled, owing to the vast amount of 19
Drum Taps in Dixie.
red tape in use, so the officers at our fort pre- sented me with a drum.
How well I remember the day when I accom- panied Capt. Joslin to Washington, and he, tak- ing me into a large music store on Pennsylvania avenue, ordered the clerk to let me have the best drum in the store.
How anxious I was to get back to our camp in Virginia so I could test it, and how my heart went pit-a-pat, as, alone, I marched with my new drum down the line at dress parade the next day. Sev- eral months later my precious drum was put out of action by a piece of a rebel shell at Bull Run and was among the trophies gathered up by the confederates in the stampede that followed.
Its loss I regretted exceedingly, for its equal in tone and other good qualities I never tapped the sticks to again. It was a beauty, too ; and was my first drum.
drummers' duties.
It is hardly to be wondered at that the drum- mer boys of the 60s got to be very proficient in the handling of the sticks, for when in camp they were having practice from early morn until late at night, and many a time they had to get out in the night and beat the "long roll" for ten or fif- teen minutes.
They were the early risers of the camps, too, for at daybreak the fifers and drummers of a
Drum Taps In Dixie.
regiment would all assemble and sound the re- veille, which was sevei-al minutes exercise of the most vigorous kind.
The followng verses on the reveille were writ- ten by a soldier, Michael O'Connor, a sergeant in the 140th New York, and have been pronounced by competent critics as among the "finest lyric lines in the language."
SONG or THE DRUMS.
"The morning is cheery, my boys, arouse! The dew shines bright on the, chestnut boughs, And the sleepy mist on the river lies, Though the east is flushed with crimson dyes. Awake ! Awake ! Awake ! O'er field and wood and brake. With glories newly born, Comes on the blushing morn. Awake ! Awake !"
"You have dreamed of your homes and friends all night,
You have basked in vour sweetheart's smiles so bright;
Come part with them all for a while again —
Be lovers in dreams; when awake be men.
Turn out ! Turn out ! Turn out !
The east is all aglow.
Turn out! Turn out!"
"From every valley and hill there come The clamoring voices of fife and drum; And out in the fresh, cool morning air The soldiers are swarming everywhere. FalTin ! Fall in ! Fall in ! Every man in his place. Fall in ! Fall in ! Fall in ! Each with a cheerful face. Fall in ! Fall in !"
21
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The next duty of the fifers and drummers was to sound the sick call. The boys made up some appropriate verses which I cannot recall except one line:
"Come and get your quinine, quinine, quinine."
The drummers were active participants in the guard mounting exercises which took place about 9 o'clock in the morning, and usually there was from one to two hours' practice among the musi- cians in the forenoon, which was repeated in the afternoon unless there was a battalion drill, in which case they took part in the manoeuvres of the troops.
Their next duty was at dress parade, where they took a prominent part in what is the most pleasing and spectacular affair of the day.
At 9 o'clock they assemble again and beat the tattoo for the evening roll call, and fifteen min- utes later taps are sounded and the day's duties are ended.
In a camp there were always some heavy sleep- ers and it was the business of the drummers in beating the morning reveille to make noise enough to awake them. Many a time have I seen a fellow rush out of his tent attired in nothing but shirt, drawers and cap and take his place in the ranks hardly in time to answer "here" when his name was called.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
THE MUSIC OF THE DRUMS.
Kinging with a siren's song,
Throbbing with a country's wrong, Making patriots brave and strong. Foes must die or yield.
Calling out the new-born day,
Marking each night's gentle sway. Ready whate'er comes.
Calls to duty, calls to play.
Calls for rest and calls for fray Rolling, roaring all the day, The Music of the Drums.
Fife and drum have been heard in every camp and upon all of the battlefields of the world. And for a marching column there is nothing like mar- tial music of the good old-fashioned kind, such as inspired the continental heroes at Lexington, Yorktown and Bunker Hill, and rallied the boys of '61, and later led them in all the marches through the South.
Martial music seems to have gone out of fash- ion in these up-to-date days, and what little there is, is but a poor apology, with the bugle blasts in- terjected between the rub-a-dub-dubs of the drum- mers who hardly know their a b c's about snare drumming.
I have heard but one good drum corps since the war, and that was at the G. A. R. gathering at Buffalo a few years ago. An old time drum corps, who styled themselves the "Continentals" were present. It was composed of veterans over 70
23
Drum Taps in Dixie.
years of age, and, say, they could double discount any other organization present.
Many of the crack brass bands of the country were there, but they were not in it with the old martial band. Their music — mind the expression, "music" — caught on with all the swell people of the city who thronged the camp waiting for an op- portunity to hear them, and the veterans went wild as they heard again the reveille and tattoo and the old familiar strains of "Yankee Doodle," "The Girl I Left Behind Me," "Rory O'More," "The Campbells Are Coming," "Hail to the Chief," and many other reminders of the old days.
TWO AMBITIONS.
Two boys when coming home from the war were talking over what they were going to do. One whom we will call Joe said he was going to have all of the strawberry shortcake he wanted, and then he was going to have mother make some of the good old-fashioned flap-jacks that he liked so well. "I am going to have her make them the full size of the round griddle, and as she bakes them I'm going to spread them with butter and shaved up maple sugar until the pile is a foot high and then I'll sit down and have all the pancakes I want for once. What are you going to do, Bill.'"'
"Me.'' I'm going to go to every dance, minstrel show, singing school and revival meeting I can hear of in forty miles, and I'm going home with
24
The Author — A War-Time Photograph.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
every pretty girl I get a chance to. And another thing I'm going to do, I'll sit up nights and burn a light until I get an all fired good ready to go to bed. And I'm goin' to hire a fifer and drummer to come and play in front of our house every mornin'."
"Why, Bill, what in thunder you goin' to do that for.? I should think that you'd had enough of fifin' and drummin' for awhile."
"Well," says Bill, "I'm goin' to do it, and I'm goin' to have them play the reveille good and strong for fifteen minutes, and then I'm goin' to shove up the chamber window and throw my boot- jack at 'em, and yell: 'To h — 1 with your re- veille.' "
RIVAL, DRUM CORPS.
The first two years of the war we were brigaded with a certain Massachusetts regiment that was about as fine a body of men as I ever saw togeth- er. In fact they looked hke a picked lot of soldiers so near of a height were they all.
Their drum corps was a good one, too, but of course the boys of the Second New York thought they were a little better than the Bay State fel- lows, consequently quite a little rivalry existed be- tween the organizations, and when the regiments were out for a review or brigade drill the stalwart drummers from down East would always try to drown out the lads of the Second Heavy. They
25
Drum Taps in Dixie.
were all full grown men while our drum corps was made up of boys all under eighteen years of age. Their music was always of the "When the Spring- time Comes, Gentle Annie," and "Chunks of Pud- ding and Pieces of Pie," style, played in 6-8 time, j ust suited to the stalwart men in their ranks ; while ours was more of the "Rory O'More," "Garry Owen" and "Get-out-of-the-way-Old-Dan- Tucker" sort, which we played 2-4 time, better adapted to the quick-stepping New Yorkers be- hind us. We had some dandy uniforms, too, and I know we were a trim-looking lot in our close-fit- ting jackets with plenty of brass buttons and red trimmings, and "McClellan caps" setting sauci- ly on the side of our heads. Harry Marshall, our drum major, was one of the handsomest young fel- lows that ever led a drum corps down the line on dress parade; and was as good and pure as hand- some. He handled his baton with a skill and grace of manner that would have captivated all the pret- ty girls of a town if we could have marched through its principal street. And when it came to beating a drum he was what the small boys of to- day would call a "corker."
Harry was a dandy and no mistake, and when we led the Second Heavy in a review we knew that we were doing it about right.
One day when we were at Arlington the general commanding the brigade ordered the troops out for brigade drill, review, etc. His family and some
36
Drum Taps in Dixie.
friends were visiting him and he wished to show the men off to his guests. We went through vari- ous brigade evolutions, followed by exhibitions in skirmish drill by detaclmients from the regiments. The officer who commanded the detachment from the Second New York was Captain Barry, a beau ideal of a soldier, who met his death at Petersburg later in the war. (By the way, I never saw Col. James R. Miller out with old "C" company but what I was reminded of Capt. Barry, both in his looks and soldierly bearing.)
Capt. Barry had the skirmish business down fine and he took Harry Marshall with his drum, and walked out in front of the general and put his men through the various movements for half an hour or more and his commands were not heard only by our drum major, who tapped them out on his drum.
It captivated the general and his guests and when the squad returned to their place with the regiment the ladies in the general's party clapped their hands and waved their handkerchiefs.
The closing event of the day was the marching in review of the different regiments, and again our boys received a recognition from the reviewing party that must have made the Massachusetts men's eyes green with envy.
Our regiment was the last to pass, and when we came opposite of the general, we wheeled out and played as the men marched by, and then fell in at
27
Drum Taps in Dixie.
the rear of the column, and just as we were march- ing off the field the general's young daughter, a miss in her teens — came cantering towards us, and riding up to Harry handed him a beautiful silk flag about three feet long mounted on a dainty light staff such as is used for the headquarters guidons. Harry waved a graceful acknowledge- ment with his baton and the blushing girl rode back to the reviewing party.
MUFFLED DRUMS.
In the fall of 1862, Jimmie, one of the drum- mer boys of the Second New York, sickened and died. He had been a slender little fellow, and the Bull Run campaign was too much for him. He lingered along for weeks in the hospital and when he realized tha't he must answer the last roll call he wished the surgieon to send for his comrades of the drum corps. It was his wish that we should stand at parade rest in the aisle between the cots. From under his pillow he took a little Bible and opening it at the 23d Psalm handed it to Harry Marshall, our drum major, and motioned for him to read the beautiful words. Need I say that there were no dry eyes.? And I think from that moment life to most of the boys present had a more serious meaning.
The next Sabbath afternoon with muffled drums and slow, measured tread, we escorted his remains to a little knoll 'neath a clump of pines near Ar-
28
Drum Taps in Dixie.
lington. The chaplain said "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." A volley was fired over the grave, our drums unmuffled and back to camp we went, beating a lively quickstep.
"Fold him in his country's stars. Roll the drums and fire the volley !
What to him are all our wars,
What but death be mocking folly!"
29
CHAPTER II.
THE THORNY PATH OF FOREIGN-BORN OFFICERS.
^^0^^^ HE soldiers who enlisted early had some ■ ^ J fun that the boys missed who went out ^^^^^ after things were in good shape and the officers had learned the tactics so they did not have to stop in giving an order until they consulted a drill-book. It took some little time, however, for the young volunteer of '61 to under- stand that if he was "just as good as them fellers with the shoulder straps," that the first word in military tactics was "obey."
I heard of a lieutenant drilling a squad of re- cruits who had been neighbors and schoolmates. He put them through with various exercises, such as "right and left face," "right about face," "right dress," "mark time," etc., and after a while the boys got tired of doing the same things over and over. Finally one spoke up to the officer as fol- lows : "I say, Tom, let's quift this darn f oolin' and go over to the sutler's."
The Second New York Artillery began its career under difficulties. It was cursed with some
30
Drum Taps in Dixie.
officers in '61-'62 whose qualifications only fitted them for service with a mule train.
Men with military training and experience were not plentiful when the war began. Any foreigner with the least bit of military knowledge and who had a fierce looking moustache could easily obtain a commission.
Our first commander was a Colonel Burtnett, who was commonly called "three fingered Jack" by the boys. His command was of brief duration. It was understood that he resigned by request. When he was taking his departure somebody proposed "three groans for our late lieutenant colonel" and they were given with a will.
ONE OF KOSSUTh's OFFICERS.
Early in the spring of 1862 Col. Gustav von Wagner came to our regiment. He was a Hun- garian refugee and had seen service with Kossuth. He claimed to have been cliief of artillery under Grant at Fort Donelson, and the Second New York regretted that Grant did not keep him.
The colonel awoke one morning and the first thing his eyes looked upon was a mule dressed in uniform s,tanding demurely in his tent. It was said that he swore in several languages but he never found out who perpetrated the huge joke on him.
The officers of our fort arranged to have a lit- 31
Drum Taps in Dixie.
tie party one evening, the principal in the arrange- ments being Lieut. Stewart. The colonel had taken a dislike to Stewart in some way and when he learned what was going on he detailed the lieuten- ant to command the headquarters guard that night. The colonel occupied a fine house that had been used by Gen. McClellan for his headquarters before he left with his army, and Stewart got even with the colonel by firing off a gun after the party was in full blast. This caused a fright among the pickets who commenced firing, which caused a gen- eral alarm that resulted in the breaking up of the party and the regiment had to stand by the guns in the forts all night.
The colonel took the regiment on a long march one day in the direction of Fairfax court house. We skirmished through swamps and waded in streams nearly waist deep. The colonel issued or- ders that there must not be any "shying" at a mud puddle or creek, every man must go straight through them.
One of our captains was quite a fleshy man and as the weather was very hot the march was hard on him. He was greatly beloved by his men, how- ever, and when we came to the fir^t deep creek two of his soldiers carried him across dry. The col- onel rode along just in time to witness the act and he ordered the men to carry the officer back and then the captain was told to wade through.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
OLD "quicker nor THAT."
The most unique character of all was Maj. Roach or old "Quicker-nor-that" as he became known. Maj. Roach was a Scotchman and had seen service in the British army and when he was drilling the regiment and wanted them to close up would yell out, "Quicker-nor-that, there." "Mind your distance; 18 inches," and soon the boys got to calling him "Maj. Quicker-nor-that." A witty Irishman by the name of Mike Lanehan composed some verses, the chorus of which ended with:
"Eighteen inches from belly to back, Quicker nor that, quicker nor that."
The boys learned the words and used to sing them at night for Roach's benefit, which made him furious.
One day when Roach was drilling the men in one of the forts he got hurt on a heavy gun car- riage. The major's tent was just outside the fort and a short cut was made for his benefit by run- ning a plank from the top of the parapet across the ditch, and the injured officer was carried across the plank by two of the men.
A soldier by the name of Pitcher saw them car- rying the major across the ditch and sang out, "Dump him, boys, dump the old sinner in the ditch."
Roach recognized the voice and called back, "I know you, Pitcher, and I'll break your pitcher for 3 33
Drum Taps in Dixie,
you," and true to his word he caused the offender to suffer by making a "spread eagle" of him on the wheel of a gun.
Roach's performances on dress parade and bat- talion drills made him and us the laughing stock of Phil Kearney's Jersey brigade and other of Mc- Clellan's troops who were encamped about us.
The major used to prowl around niglits and try to find out if any of the sentries were shirking their duties. One night he approached the post of one of our own Co. H. boys whose name was Patrick Devereaux. Pat Avas a typical son of Erin and withal a good soldier, and as he expressed it did not fear "shoulder straps nor the divil." He halted old "Quicker-nor-that" and demanded the countersign. This was given and then the major thought he would see if the man knew his duties, and he said, "It's a pleasant evening, sentry ; let me see your gun a minute." Instantly the point of the bayonet on Pat's musket was pressed against the officer's breast, and he was told to "mark time." Roach thought the man fooling, but Patsy says to him, "Oi'm a bigger man on me post than yersilf, and Oi'l learn ye betthcr than to be playin' tricks on a gintleman who is doin' his duty. Mark time, Oi say, and ye betther step off 'quicker nor that' or Oi'l be proddin' ye wid me bay'net."
The major swore and threatened, but Pat could 34
Drum Taps in Dixie.
not be intimidated and he kept Roach marking time until the officer of the guard reheved him.
Strange to say the major took the matter as a good joke and Devereaux escaped punishment.
A QUIET GAME AFTER TAPS.
I recall another instance when the major got the worst of it. The boys had been forbidden to play cards in their tents after "taps," when all lights had to be extinguished in the company streets. The cooking shanties were quite a little back of the camp and just over the crest of a deep ravine ; so when the boys wanted a quiet game of "5-cent ante" with sutler tickets — for money was pretty scarce then — they would betake themselves to the cook houses where a light could not be seen from the officers' quarters.
Roach got on to their game, however, and one night planned to surprise them from the rear. He had been observed by someone who notified the poker players and they prepared a little surprise for him. When the major was walking up the
back steps Sergt. emptied a kettle of bean
soup all over him.
The sergeant paid the penalty by losing his chevrons ; but I will add that after Roach had been dismissed from the service, the man whom he re- duced to the ranks, became one of the best line officers of the regiment and at the assault of Pet- ersburg won a captain's bars for bravery.
35
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Another odd character among the officers was a certain lieutenant whom the boys named "Spider."
He was over fond of "commissary" and nearly always wore a pair of rubber boots. The men dis- liked him and never lost a chance to torment him — when it could be done without being detected — ^by calling out "here comes 'Spider' and his rubber boots."
36
CHAPTER III.
LITTLE MAC AND HIS GRAND ARMY THE SECOND
BULL RUN.
QROBABLY the most popular com- mander of the Union forces in the civil war was General George B. McClellan. Whatever his faults, he was idolized by his men. Historians may write him up or down according to their bias, but the boys who carried the muskets away back in '62, who were with him at Yorktown, Williamsburg, Malvern Hill, Fair Oaks and Antietam, beheved in him and through all the long years since then have had a warm place in their hearts for the memory of Little Mac.
We saw McClellan's army start out in the spring of '62 for their Peninsular campaign and our boys were hopping mad to think we were left behind. The great majority of the men really felt that the war would be ended before we had a chance to take a hand in. I may say that the drummer boys, full of young red blood, were as eager for
37
Drum Taps in Dixie.
the fray as the older men, but most of us had got enough of war before we reached Appomattox.
THE IDOL, OF HIS MEN.
The greatest ovation that the writer ever saw given any general was on the occasion of McClel- lan's return to the army after the second battle of Bull Run.
It will be remembered that on his return from the Peninsular campaign he had been relieved and his troops had been ordered to join Pope's forces. Gen. Pope was the man who, on assuming com- mand a few weeks before, had announced with a flourish of trumpets that his headquarters would be "in the saddle." But he was no match for "Stonewall" Jackson, who kept him running to- wards Washington, and would have annihilated his army at Manassas but for the timely arrival of McClellan's forces. As it was, the army had to take refugp in the defenses of Washington and there was anxiety for the safety of the capitol.
In the emergency President Lincoln appealed to McClellan to go over into Virginia and resume command and reorganize the shattered hosts, and McClellan, putting aside his personal feelings, consented to do so. The condition of the troop,5 was such that they were not inclined to enthuse very much over any officer. They were ragged, nearly shoeless and thoroughly worn out, but when one afternoon word was passed among them that
38
Drum Taps in Dixie.
"Little Mac" Avas coming they rushed to the road- side, flung their caps high in the air and cheered themselves hoarse.
McClellan loved his men and their reception pleased him. He rode the entire length of the lines with bared head, smiling and bowing to the right and left. Two days later he led 90,000 of them over into Maryland, and won a grand victory at Antietam, sending Lee's hosts back to Virginia again, but it was the bloodiest battle of the war up to that time, for each side had a loss of from 12,000 to 15,000 men.
Lincoln visited the army on the battlefield and personally thanked McClellan for the victory, and the soldiers felt that they were to have their old commander with them to the end, but political hi- fluences were at work against him in Washington and he had to retire soon after.
It has always been an open question whether McClellan would not have been the great general of the war if he had been given all the troops he wanted and been allowed to act on his own judg- ment without dictation from Stanton and Halleck. But it was not until later in the war that those in authority at Washington learned that the general with his troops is the one to command them.
GOING AFTER STONEWALL,,
In August, 1862, our regiment received orders to march to join Gen. Pope's forces, then operat-
39
Drum Taps in Dixie.
ing in the vicinity of Culpeper and Gordonsville, and there was great rejoicing among the men, who had begun to fear that the j*ebellion might collapse without their having a smell of powder.
The shades of evening were coming on when the bugles sounded the "assembly" and we marched aAvay with light hearts and heavy knapsacks, for all green soldiers are bound to overload on their first march.
That night we lay out on the ground alongside of the Orange & Alexandria railroad. When morn- ing dawned we found that there were other troops bound for somewhere, too. Every man made his own coffee and we ate our first meal of "hardtack," and were not long in finding out that the safest way was to break them in small pieces and sort the worms out.
After that breakfast I went over to a sutler's tent and filled up my haversack with fried pies, cookies, crackers and other trash that a boy likes.
Late that afternoon we started out on the "pike" in the direction of Fairfax court house and were rushed along at a lively gait until nearly midnight. The men were young and light heart- ed, and as we marched there was the rollicking laugh, sharp joke, equally as keen a retort, queer and humorous sayings, breaking out from the ranks here and there, and then all would sing, "John Brown's Body" and "We'll Hang Jeff Davis to a Sour Apple Tree."
40
Drum Taps in Dixie.
We halted that niglilt near a little place called Accotink and bivouacked in a large open field, and I recall how quickly the rail fences were converted into huge camp fires, for the Virginia nights are nearly always chilly.
The march was resumed early the next morn- ing and the day was a hot one.
The most aggravating thing to the soldiers on a march is the unevenness of the marching. First you are rushed along so that the short legged ones are compelled to double-quick to keep up, and then there will be a halt of perhaps fifteen to thirty minutes when you are kept standing in the broiling svin ; then start again and stop five min- utes later.
It struck me as funny that not one person in ten you met in the country knew anything about distances. If you met a colored man and asked how far it was to Manassas he would reply '"Deed, boss, I don't know, 'spec 'tis a right smart dis- tance."
Another would say it was eight miles, and after going a mile or two you would ask again and would be told it was ten miles and a "bit."
XOTHIXG LIKE HARDTACK.
I found on the second day's march that the sut- ler's "goodies" which I had stocked up with had absorbed a little too much of the flavor of my hav- ersack to be palatable, so I returned to Uncle
41
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Sam's ration of hardtack, salt junk and coffee, which cannot be beaten for a steady diet when cam" paigning.
We halted for a rest that noon near a beautiful old mansion between Fairfax and Centreville. The boys made themselves pretty free with whatever they wanted around the premises, notwithstanding the protests of the women of the household, one of whom observed that "you'uns think you are right smart now, but if Stonewall Jackson catches you he'll lick you so you won't be so peart the next time you come this way."
We little thought the prediction would come true in a brief twenty-four hours, but such was the case and when hot, tired and choking with thirst and dust, we stopped at the same place the next afternoon, thinking to refresh ourselves with some sparkling water from the "moss covered bucket that hung in the well," we found that it, and in fact all of the appliances for drawing water had been removed, and, looking back from this dis- tance, I think they served us right.
THE SECOND BULL BUN.
The night of Aug. 26, 1862, our regiment was preparing to go into camp at Bull Run bridge when an excited horseman rode among us and asked for our colonel. The rider proved to be Capt. Von Puitkamer, who with his own battery, the 11th New York, and part of Battery C, 1st
Drum Taps in Dixie.
New York, had preceded us by a few hours. He reported that the Confederates had attacked Man- assas Junction, capturing his battery and all the government stores at that point and he implored our colonel to take his regiment and "git him pack his pattery."
Col. Von Wagner, after informing him that he "Vas prigadeer sheneral in command," ordered the captain to lead the way and he would make short work of them "Shonnies."
After marching and counter-marching around in the darkness part of the night we lay down and waited for morn. Daylight revealed the enemy in force. General Jackson had outwitted Pope completely and had a large part of his army be- tween Pope and Washington.
As soon as it was light enough we moved for- ward and a little later encountered the enemy near Manassas.
Our skirmishers fired on the rebel cavalry, who retreated after two or three volleys, behind some buildings. Several riderless horses were soon gal- loping around, so we assumed that the shots had been effective.
Soon the enemy commenced to throw shell at us from numerous guns and maintained a heavy fire for some time. We were ordered to lie down and thus escaped with few casualties. My drum that was on the top of a pile of officers' luggage
43
Drum Taps in Dixie.
in the rear of the line was ruined by a piece of shell.
About 10 o'clock the Confederates attempted to turn our left flank, but our line was changed to intercept the movement, which was unsuccessful. The rebel infantry had been brought up to the front line and were firing at us at a furious rate. It being apparent that we were outnumbered our colonel ordered a retreat, which was conducted in an orderly manner until Gen. Stuart sent his cav- alry after us and then a panic ensued.
Just before our march to the front the son of an officer of the regiment came to make his father a visit, and being there when we got orders to take the field, he thought it would be a fine thing to go along and see the sights — a sort of picnic. We, being somewhere near the same age, were in each other's company a great deal. When the regi- ment became engaged at Bull Run we were the source of much anxiety to our fathers and, not be- ing of any particular use on the firing line, were sent to the rear, where the baggage wagons and "coffee coolers" were assembled. When the break in the lines occurred and the troops rushed pell mell to the rear there were some lively movements. Everybody went and stood not on the order of their going. Charley Rogers of our company — a former resident of Lorraine — drove a four-horse team which drew a wagon loaded with baggage belonging to the officers of the regiment. Charley
44
Drum Taps in Dixie.
saw us boys and called out to "get aboard," and be "damn lively about it, too." It was one of the old style government wagons, canvas-covered with a round hole at the rear end. We crawled up in front and sat with our backs against Charley's seat and facing the rear. Didn't we get a shak- ing up, though? For Rogers sent the horses for all they were worth. Occasionally there would be a jam in the road caused by some wagon break- ing down. Near Bull Run Bridge a blockade oc- curred, and while we sat there expecting that the rebel cavalry would swoop down and demand our surrender we were terrorized by seeing the point of a bayonet looking at us through the hole at the rear of the wagon. Before we recovered ourselves enough to speak somebody behind that gun and bayonet gave it a shove and the glittering piece of cold steel passed between us two boys and em- bedded itself in the back of Charley's seat. Then the pale face of a soldier was stuck through the hole and instead of a Johnnie reb it was one of our regiment by the name of Hawkins.
When near Bull Run bridge the road became so blocked that we could not move.
A section of a light battery came along and the drivers thought they could pull out to the roadside and pass. In doing so the wheels of one gun sank In the soft ground and, toppling over on the side, became entangled in the fence.
45
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Nearly all of the men deserted it and ran for dear life.
One driver stuck to his horses and plied the whip, but the carriage refused to move.
The enemy were coming steadily on and the bul- lets began to whistle unpleasantly. We had got- ten out of our wagon, intending to go ahead on foot.
About this time along came a member of our company by the name of Will McNeil, who was serving as a teamster. He had abandoned his wagon and was riding one of his big mule team and leading the other.
Hawkins hailed him, saying "See here McNeil, hitch your mules on ahead of these artillery horses and let's save this gun from capture."
"All right," says McNeil, and in less time than it takes to tell it Mc's mules were made the lead team and McNeil and Hawkins stood at their side and plied the whips, and they lifted the gun and saved it from falling into the hands of the enemy, for it Avould surely have been captured, but for Hawkins and McNeil.
Between Bull Run and Centreville w^e met Gen. Taylor and his Jersey brigade that had been sent out by rail from Alexandria to try and regain the lost fight, but Jackson had pushed forward A. P. Hill's and Bristol's divisions and several batteries, and the Jersey troops were quickly routed, Gen. Taylor himself losing a leg in the encounter.
46
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The story of the battle, the skeedaddle, etc., is a matter of history. It was a contest of several days and both armies became involved.
Thousands of bi'ave men were killed and wound- ed and among the officers who gave up their lives on the Union side was the beloved and dashing Gen. Phil Kearnej'^, who made such a record at the battle of Seven Pines.
The story of his conduct that day has been told in verse by the poet, Stedman :
"So that soldierly legend is still on its journey
That story of Kearney who knew not to yield! 'Twas the day when v/ith Jameson, fierce Berry and Birney,
Against t^venty thousand he rallied the field. AVhere the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose high- est, Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf oak and pihc, Where the aim from the thicket was surest and nighest. No charge like Phil Kearney's along the whole line." *******
"He snuffed like his charger the wind of the powder.
His sword waved us on and we answered the sign; Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang the louder;
There's the devil's own fun, boys, along the whole line! How he strode his brown steed!' How we saw his blade brighten
In the one hand still left, and the reins in his teeth! He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten,
But a soldier's glance shot from his visor "beneath. Up came the reserves to the melee infernal,
Asking where to go in— thro' the clearing or pine.» 'O^ anywhere ! Forward ! 'Tis all the same, colonel ;
'You'll find lovely fighting along the whole line !' "
47
CHAPTER IV.
INCIDENTAL, TO BULL, RUN.
THE CAPTURE OF UNCLE HAWLEY,
KENRY HAAVLEY was his name, but the boys of Company H always called him "Uncle," and so he appears on our com- pany record. Hawley was not cut out for a soldier — in fact he was several sizes too large. His corpulency made him appear rather ludicrous when he tried to line up with the slender youths of the company on dress parade.
Tom ]\Iurphy, the orderly sergeant, was always yelling out "right dress there, Hawley."
One Sunday morning the regiment was being in- spected by an Irish major and as he came to Haw- ley he looked him over and remarked that he didn't know what the h — 1 anybody was thinking of to enlist a man of his build, and he should think the best thing to do with him was to send him home. "All right, sir," says Hawley, "I'll go today, if you please."
48
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The man was a natural wit and an adept in the use of sarcasm, and had a way of talking back to his superiors that usually put the laugji on them. The truth is the boys of '61 didn't stand mucli "putting on airs" by tlie officers, and if one did make a show of his authority the men made life miserable for him.
Hawley was finally made to earn his $11 a month (that was our nmnificent pay then) by do- ing duty as company cook, a position he filled with credit to himself and satisfaction to his boarders. He was not content to serve up "salt boss" and boiled beef in the easy manner of most army cooks, but was ever fixing us a nice treat of hash or an "Irish stew" with dumplings, and Hawley's dump- lings became famous throughout the Second Heavy.
Evenings we used to gather around the cook house and listen to Hawley's impersonations of Shakespearean characters, in which he was very clever, and from Shakespeare he would turn to the Bible, with which he was exceedingly familiar.
When we went to the front Hawley left his camp kettles behind and shouldered a musket. On the retreat from Bull Run Hawley became played out and he declared he could go no further. The boys urged him to keep along with them and not get captured, but Hawley said if they wanted him they would have to take him, which they did and got an elephant on their hands too. Hawley's ac- 4 49
Drum Taps in Dixie.
count of his experience with the rebels was very funnj. They found him lying by the roadside and ordered him to get up and go along with them. He told them he could not march another step, and if they wanted him to go to Libby prison they would have to furnish a conveyance. The rebel officer coaxed, swore and threatened, but all to no purpose. Hawley would not budge an inch. Finally a horse was brought and he was told to mount. Hav.lcy declared he could not and then the officer directed some of the men to assist him, and two guards were ordered to walk by the side of the horse and hold him on. Hawley's comments about the razor-backed horse and other sarcastic remarks made sport for all except the officer in charge, who threatened more than once to gag his tormentor. The Confederates probably thought the best thing to do was to get Hawley off their hands, so after keeping him in captivity a couple of days they paroled him and sent him inside our lines instead of to Andersonville prison, where so many of his comrades had to go, many never to return.
FINISHED HIS SMOKE IN LIBBY.
An incident of the stampede from Manassas illustrates how unconcerned some are amidst dan- ger and excitement. Jimmy West, a little Irish- man of our company, was a character and an in- veterate smoker and never lost a chance to in-
50
Drum Taps in Dixie.
dulge himself. After the retreat was well under way, Jimmy bethought himself of his pipe and to- bacco, but a match was lacking and none of his nearby comrades had one, so he yelled out to our first sergeant, at the head of the company:
"I say there, orderly, hev' you a bit of a match about ye?"
"To thunder with j^our pipe, Jimmy," respond- ed Sergt, Murphy. "You better be using your short legs pretty lively or you'll be smoking in Libby prison tomorrow evening," and sure enough Jimmy was among those captured.
The most ludicrous incident connected with the Bull Run affair occurred near Fairfax Court House when we supposed we were safe from the Confederate cavalry.
Between Centreville and Fairfax we passed the 14th Massachusetts, that had formed a line of battle across the turnpike to arrest the pursuing Confederates.
We breathed somewhat easier after we had put the troops between us and our pursuers.
The day was an intensely hot one, and the hun- dreds of horses galloping over the turnpike, haul- ing the heavy wagons, raised clouds of dust that were nearly suffocating, so when we crossed a lit- tle stream of water most of the teamsters halted in a large field near by for the purpose of refresh- ing and resting their exhausted steeds.
The two boys got out of the wagon, stretched 51
y w- Drum Taps in Dixie.
y{^y their legs and with many others went over to the > creek for a wash up.
Among the bathing party were WilHam McNeil and "Hod" Clair of our company, who had made the retreat from Bull Run, one mounted on a mule with nothing but a halter and the other on the confiscated horse of some officer who had been killed in the battle.
While we were splashing the water and having as much sport as any party of youngsters ever did in an old fashioned "swimmin' hole" in their school boy days, somebody shouted "The rebs are coming," and sure enough there was a squadron of Confederate cavalry coming at a gallop down a cross road about a mile away. You may be sure that there was some right-smart hustling.
Some grabbed a blouse, cap or shirt while others buckled on their equipments in undress uniform.
My partner and I saved our clothing, but de- ferred dressing until we were safely in our wagon with Charley Rogers urging his four horses to their utmost speed.
Hod Clair made a most comical figure on the horse, dressed in nothing but his cap, blouse and cuticle, and the officer's sword dangling against his naked left leg.
IN AFTER YEARS.
A quarter of a century had elapsed after the disbandment of our regiment before I saw the com-
52
Drum Taps in Dixie.
rade who rode with me from Bull Run. I sat writ- ing at my desk one afternoon when I heard some one asking up in the front part of the store if "Del" was in.
The familiarity with which the questioner han- dled my name excited my curiosity and looking up I beheld two rather seedy looking individuals with l;ats in hand elbowing their way down through the store.
The one in advance was apparently a stranger. His companion, however, was a resident of the city, a veteran of my regiment, who bore the scars of battle on his body.
He returned home from the war to learn that while he was away fighting the battles of his coun- try one of the stay-at-homes had been making love to his wife. She went west with her paramour, and the veteran laid down under the load and let the battle of life go against him. He was no com- mon bum, however, if he did try at times to drown his misery in strong drink. He kept pretty clear of evil and low-down associations, even if he had dropped below the level of respectable people. The veteran was a man of intelligence and spent much time with good reading, and it was my pleasure for many years to keep him pretty well supplied. Strange to relate, a publication that was his espe- cial favorite was the old "Christian Union," now known as the "Outlook." Of course he held me up now and then for the loan of a dime or quarter.
53
Drum Taps in Dixie.
If I hesitated about going into my pocket, he had a way of looking up and reminding me that it was "Just for old acquaintance sake." Perhaps it would have been better to have refused him, but I had not the heart to say no to one who had black- ened his coffee pail over the same campfire with me, had carried part of my traps on many weary marches and had touched elbows with my father on the fighting line. I cannot forget such things and would not if I could.
As the two approached me they halted, saluted, and the old "vet" gave me two or three sly winks, as much as to say, I'll bet you a "V" you can't tell who I have here.
I was puzzled, but instinctively felt it was one of the old Co. H. The man had evidently seen bet- ter days. He carried his hat in his hand like a well-mannered man, and there were other unmis- takable traces of birth and good breeding.
We looked hard at each other. A twinkle came into a pair of black eyes that had once been the handsomest I ever saw in a man's head. A smile hovered around his mouth, and then out of the misty past came my companion of that memorable ride of long ago. I reached out my hand and said, "It's George," and I believe he was more pleased than as if I had handed him a hundred- dollar greenback, which is saying a good deal, for it was plainly evident that his finances were low.
54
Drum Taps in Dixie.
It was the old story. A young man, the son of an officer of our regiment who had been the leading merchant of — Avell, a smart town not a hundred miles from Watertown, well educated, with pros- pects in life that were the best, and now the fol- lower of a circus. Always going somewhere and never getting anywhere was the way he put it. Still, my comrade.
I think he held my hand five minutes, and mem- ories of other days were kindled anew. He had for- gotten nothing. It was safely stored away in memory and the meeting had tapped it.
Graphically he portrayed the incidents of our Bull Run ride to the amusement of clerks and cus- tomers. All at once he recalled that he was in the presence of ladies, and bowing and smiling he gal- lantly tiptoed his way to the front part of the store and apologized for forcing an old soldier's story upon them.
No one could have done it with more ease and grace, for, as I have stated, George's early asso- ciations had been of the best. His family was in the swell set of the town in which they lived, and his father was a gentleman of the old school and noted for his polished manners.
"You see, ladies," said he, "I haven't been in your beautiful city since war times until this morning. Struck town with Barnum & Bailey's greatest aggi'egation on earth."
"Perhaps traveling with a circus does not meet 55
Drum Taps in Dixie.
your approval. I like it, though. Something like soldiering. Always under marching orders. Plen- ty of fresh air and one never sleeps so good as he does on the ground with only a strip of canvas be- tween him and the heavens.
"When the band is playing and them Wild West fellows are gsilloping around the ring with the scabbards of their sabres clanging against the stirrup-irons, I just close my eyes and imagine I am with the old second corps again and Gen. Han- cock is riding down the lines.
"Suppose you have all heard about the general? Handsomest man and greatest fighter that ever straddled a horse.
"The general and the second corps never missed a fight. Yes, we were with them through it all.
"Gettysburg? Sure! Rube, here, got a couple of bullet holes when we were beating back Pickett's men that afternoon. The general went down that day, too, and I can shut my eyes and see it all and hear the cheers of the Irish brigade boys when they realized that the battle was won.
"Beg pardon, ladies, but I am in something of a reminiscent mood today, being as I met an old comrade. We have been holding a little reunion. Yes, took a little something in honor of the event.
" 'Del' — er Mr. Miller — was with us from start to finish. Wasn't much of him but his drum and grit. Legs so short the boys had to carry him across all the creeks. He stuck though and
56
Drum Taps in Dixie.
tapped 'lights out' down side of Lee's 'last ditch' at Appomattox."
That evening the two veterans of the old sec- ond corps partook of the best that the Woodruff house could give and smoked several of Nill & Jess' Pinks at the expense of one who was glad to do it, "Just for old acquaintance sake."
WAR IS HELL.
To fully appreciate Gen. Sherman's definition of war, one needs to be at a field hospital on the outskirts of some great battlefield where the ghastly surroundings of death and suffering are more terrible than on the battlefield itself.
The day after our retreat from Bull Run our regiment was ordered to proceed by train to Fair- fax station, where all the wounded were sent for transportation to Washington. We rode on the top of freight cars, every man with a loaded mus- ket ready to shoot any of Mosby's men who might try to wreck the train. The cars were filled with cots, stretchers, blankets and other supplies for the wounded.
The night was a dark and rainy one, and as we jumped off the cars at the station, which was lo- cated in some dense woods, we saw the horrors of war spread out on every side. Acres of ground were covered with bleeding, mangled soldiers, who
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but a short time before had stood amid the storm of shot and shell, now just as bravely enduring suffering.
The surgeons and their assistants at the ampu- tating tables with coats off and shirt sleeves rolled up, their hands red with blood, worked swiftly to save life, for it is the "first aid" to the wounded that counts.
The spectacular effect was heightened by piles of blazing pitch pine knots, torches and lanterns suspended from the limbs of trees, which imparted a strange wierdness to the scene.
All night long the interminable trains of am- bulances and wagons from the battlefield came bringing their loads of sufferers with the smoke of battle upon them. Many were so exhausted that it was necessary to give them stimulants before they could be lifted from the wagons.
The United States Sanitary and Christian com- missions were represented by a large number of workers. Women of culture and refinement, from some of the best families in the land, were cutting off the blood-drenched clothing, bathing and bandaging shattered limbs, giving nourishment to the fainting, speaking comforting words and lis- tening to the messages of the dying; and all this going on within the sound of rattling musketry and booming cannon, for it was the night of the fight at Chantilly, when Gen. Jackson attempted
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to flank Pope's army and reached a point not far from Fairfax court house.
Our regiment stood in hne in a wheat field, just outside of the woods, a good part of the night with the rain falhng in torrents and heaven's ar- tillery vieing with that of the forces engaged.
A drummer boy of our company who had lost his drum at Manassas, was carrying a musket that night and stood in the ranks with his father who was a sergeant in the same command. I need hard- ly say that the events of that night are graven as with an iron pen on his memory.
The authorities at Washington were fearful of risking any more fighting so near the capital and Gen. Pope was ordered to withdraw his army within the defenses of Washington and the wound- ed were hurried away from Fairfax station in every kind of conveyance, even hacks and car- riages being sent out from Washington.
Our regiment remained until the last wounded man had been sent forward and then set fire to the immense quantities of supplies stored there, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.
Our casualties in the second Bull Run affair were comparatively small, we being engaged only in the first encounter at Manassas Junction, which was merely preliminary to the great battle.
Gen. Stuart's cavalry did, however, manage to take as prisoners about two hundred of the regi- ment.
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CHAPTER V.
WASHINGTON IN THE SIXTIES.
Vt|^ ASHINGTON in the sixties was not the ^ ■ ^ beautiful city that it is today. The V^^ nation's capital was one vast camp of armed men and the city was circled with a cordon of forts and earthworks. Early in the war the Confederate flag could be seen from the dome of the capitol, flying on Munson's hill, while the exchange of shots by the pickets was heard at the White House more than once.
" 'AH quiet along the Potomac,' thev say, Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro. By a rifleman hid in the thicket."
Pennsylvania avenue, that grand thoroughfare with its wide, long stretch of asphalt, was then supposed to be paved with cobblestones, but they had nearly been crushed out of sight by the heavy government wagons, cannon and artillery caissons, which had cut such deep ruts that the street was almost impassable in muddy weather.
Guards patrolled the sidewalks; troops were 60
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constantly passing through the city on their way to Virginia; officers and their orderhes were rid- ing to and fro, and it was said that a boy could not throw a stone at a dog without hitting a brig- adier general.
Probably few of the present generation are aware how much of the great civil war was fought within an easy day's journey of the city. Two of the most celebrated battles of the war, in which 25,000 men were killed and wounded, were fought but twenty-five miles away, and at Arlington there is a monument that marks the resting place of the remains of over 2,100 unknown dead gathered along the route of the army from the Potomac to the Rappahannock.
There is no greater blessing vouchsafed to man than memory, which enables one to live over again the past, and so I recall with pleasure the many happy days in my early army life, when we were doing duty in the forts around Washington, and before the gold plating of a soldier's life had been worn off by the stern realities of active service.
The city was then encircled by a chain of forts. But time and the elements have nearly obliterated the defenses of Washington, and pretty little vil- las with sweet and romantic names such as: Ross- lyn, Ivanwold, Buena Vista, Carberry Meadows, etc., have replaced them. The prattle and inno- cent laughter of happy children is heard on the
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heights or ArHngton, instead of bugle calls, the music of bands and the booming of cannon.
Looking backward from a distance of forty years one must admit that it was much more com- fortable soldiering around Washington than at the front with such fighters as Grant, Sheridan, Hancock, Warren, Wright, Gibbons and others "pushing things." It was monotonous, however, and the men grew tired of drills, fancy guard mountings, dress parades, brightening of guns and polishing of brass buttons, and were troubled with the thought that the war might be brought suddenly to a close before they would have an opportunity to win any laurels. But everybody had their ambitions gratified before Lee surren- dered, for there was fighting enough to go all arotmd in that affair.
SOME OF THE OLD FORTS.
My first army home was at Fort Worth near Fairfax Seminary, about three miles from Alex- andria.
The site of old Fort Worth was a beautiful spot, about three hundred feet above the Potomac, and from its warlike parapets one could behold an en- trancing panorama of country. To the south the Fairfax "pike" and the Orange and Alexandria railroad wended their way through as beautiful a little valley as the sun ever shone upon. Twenty- five years after the war I visited the place. The
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owner of the land on which the fort was built, and who served as a colonel in the Confederate army, then had a beavitiful home on the site and utilized the old bomb-proof for an outside cellar. Near his barn was a little of the old parapet remain- ing and our party stood on the earthworks while our old regimental bugler, a man bent with the weight of more than three score years, sounded reveille, tattoo, and lights out. There were no dry eyes in the party when the last bugle notes echoed and re-echoed through the charming Virginia valley leading out tov^ard Fairfax.
REMOKSE REVEALS A CHIVALROUS ACT.
It is hardly necessary to say that we did some pretty deep thinking as we met that day on the old camp ground.
Our comrades stood before us again — boys who had been schoolmates, the companions of our youth. We could almost hear their familiar voices, their songs and sayings, and we thought of where we parted with many of them, here and there along the way from Washington to Appomattox. The thoughts brought keen pangs of sorrow to us, yet withal there were many pleasant recollections re- vived.
Looking off to the south we saw the same fine old southern mansion that was there in war times. We felt remorse for many foraging expeditions in which the fruit, sweet potatoes, ducks and
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chickens had been confiscated for the cause of Uncle Sam.
We thought we would go and call on our old neighbors and make the amende honorable.
The fine old southern lady freely forgave us with a graciousness characteristic of the women of the south. An invitation to lunch was extended and accepted. George, a colored boy, was told to go down the "Run" to the mill and tell her son, the colonel (no rank under a colonelcy is recog- nized in Virginia), to come up to the house and meet some of the old Second New York.
We lunched on the broad veranda and ex- changed reminiscences of the days when we were neighbors and enemies, and as the colonel sipped that favorite and refreshing beverage of the south, a mint julep, he told of his wounds at Manassas and how friends had helped him through the lines and back to his old home right under the guns of our fort, where he was secreted until his recovery. His presence there was not unknown to the general commanding the Union forces, who, like a chival- ric knight of old, kept the secret for the sake of the mother, and furnished guards to keep intrud- ers away from the house.
The reader must not infer that there was one drop of traitorous blood in the officer's veins. His name I am not at liberty to divulge, but it is no breach of confidence to say that he was one of the most brilliant generals in the army of the Poto-
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mac, whose loyalty was proven on many a bloody battlefield.
Across the valley to the east from Fort Worth, on the Mount Vernon road, was a large fort called Fort Lyon, where the gallant old 94th New York Infantry spent the winter and spring of '62. An explosion of ammunition in one of the magazines nearly destroyed the fort in 1863, killing and wounding many of the garrison and causing the earth to tremble for miles.
Fort Lyon was nearly on the left of the defenses- south of the Potomac, while Fort Marcy, about four miles west of Georgetown and near the fa- mous Chain bridge, guarded the right flank.
Between the two, running parallel with the Po- tomac, along Arlington heights, was a perfect chain of forts and earthworks, the names of which many northern New York veterans will recall, such as Forts Ellsworth, Ward, Blenkner, Albany, Run- yon, Corcoran, Haggerty, Tillinghast, Whipple, Woodbury, Greig, Cass, Dekalb (afterwards Fort Smith), Strong and many others. The Fifth New York Heavy Artillery assisted in the erection of the last named.
The 35th New York, which was the first organ- ization in this section to respond to President Lin- coln's call for troops, garrisoned Fort Tilling- hast for a time and assisted considerably in its completion as well as the cutting away of timber in front of the forts south of Arlington. 5 65
Drum Taps in Dixie.
One of the most prominent forts near Arlington was Fort Corcoran, so named in honor of Col Michael Corcoran, who led that famous Irish regi- ment, the 69th New York, to the war, and was captured at the first battle of Bull Run.
This fort was the headquarters of the Second New York Artillery for more than a year and the regiment while there assisted largely in the con- struction of Fort Whipple, which is now known as Fort Myer. and is kept as a military post by the government. All visitors to Arlington via the Georgetown bridge pass by it.
Fort Stevens, originally called Fort Massachu- setts, attained prominence during Gen. Early's raid in 1864 by reason of having been the scene of some stubborn fighting. It is only about five miles from the capitol and but for the timely ar- rival of the fighting Sixth corps which Grant sent back from Petersburg, it is probable that the Con- federate forces would have entered the city. It was on the ramparts of Fort Stevens that Presi- dent Lincoln exposed himself to the fire of the enemy.
There were some formidable forts east of the capitol across the "East Branch" on Boone's Ridge in Prince George's County, Md. The names of Fort Mahan, Baker, Stanton, Carroll, Greble, Wagner and others will be recalled by all the survivors of that regiment, the pride of Jeffer-
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son county, the 10th New York Heavy Artillery, which garrisoned many of them for a long period.
Lincoln's pets.
The 10th New York Heavy Artillery has been referred to as the lucky regiment from Jefferson county. It was organized in September, 1862, and performed garrison duty in the defenses east of Washington until the summer of 1864, when it was ordered to the front. It joined the army at Cold Harbor at about the time Grant was prepar- ing to transfer operations to Petersburg and Ber- muda Hundred.
The 10th Heavy was sent around by water from White House Landing, while most of the army made a forced march across country.
The regiment participated in the first fighting at Petersburg. Later they were returned to the defenses of Washington where they remained un- til Gen. Early's army was driven out of Maryland, when they were ordered to join Gen. Sheridan's forces in the Shenandoah valley. They were a fine body of men, well officered, well drilled, and under perfect discipline, which probably accounted for their being such favorites with President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton.
DOG BILLY OF THE SECOND HEAVY.
When McClellan's army left for the Peninsula a soldier sold to one of our boys his dog. He was
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just a plain every day sort of dog with chopped off tail and clipped ears, but in some respects the most knowing little fellow I ever saw, and he soon became a great favorite with everybody in camp. He learned the bugle and drum calls and took special dehght in dress parades. When the men were forming for that, Billy would run up and down the line barking and cut up all sorts of cap- ers he was so very happy.
He seemed to be fond of brass band music and would lead the musicians up and down the line un- til the colonel ordered the sergjeant major to drive him away. He charged on Billy with drawn sword and the knowing little fellow kept behind the line ever after that.
There was a nice large "swimmin' hole" in "Four Mile Run," not far from camp, where we used to go bathing frequently. Billy always went, too, and had great sport with the boys. Nothing pleased him more than to have some one pick him up and throw him headlong into the water.
Old "Lige" Moyer used to come out in front of his cook tent almost every evening and play the fiddle, and, if you will believe it, "Lige" learned Billy to waltz, rewarding him with liberal rations after the performance. Billy always stood guard with his master, keeping him company in his lone- ly night watches.
The crack of a rifle did not disturb him the least bit, but the booming of the heavy guns were too
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much for his nerves, and he would go and hide in his owner's tent.
When we were ordered out to the front for the Bull Run campaign Billy went along, too. He used to curl up under the same blanket with Joe, his master. The morning - that the battle of Manassas opened our regiment was subjected to a severe artillery fire for two hours. Billy became a skulker and went to the rear. In the skedaddle and panic that occurred later in the day, Joe, with many others, was taken prisoner by the John- nies.
A couple of weeks later our regiment was sent back to the forts. Billy was not with us and no one had seen him since the morning at Bull Run. We concluded that he must have been taken pris- oner, too, but a few days later Billy appeared in camp. He was a sorry looking dog, thin as a razor and his hair turned toward his head. The distance to Manassas was about twenty-five miles, but he had probably tramped much farther in finding his way back to camp.
All were glad to see him again, and he seemed pleased enough to see us nntil he found that Joe was not there. No more the h\ig}e calls aroused him, and even the music of the band had lost its charm. He would just go looking in the different tents and keep up a continual whining.
One day he got tired waiting for Joe to come 69
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back and he left us, and that was the last we ever heard of dog Billy.
THE OLD WAR SONGS.
"I cannot sing the old songs, I sang long years ago.
For heart and voice would fail me and foolish tears would
flow; For by-gone hours come o'er my heart with each familiar
strain ; I cannot sing the old songs, or dream those dreams again."
How many of our readers remember the old songs and melodies that were so popular in the six- ties.? People sang them in their homes and the soldiers in the camps and on the march, and they furnished inspiration for many a tired regiment to gp into battle.
As I write there comes to my mind snatches of many of the old favorites such as "We'll Rally Round the Flag, Boys," "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching."
A story is told of a regiment who went into bat- tle nearly one thousand strong and came out with less than half the number, but the survivors with their blood-stained banners and smoke-begrimed faces marched to another position in the line sing- ing
"We'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again, shouting the battle cry of freedom."
"When Johnnie Comes Marching Home Again" was always a favorite in the ranks, but in the quiet
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of camp the songs were a little more sentimental and suggestive of home and the loved ones. Some of the old time favorites were:
"Sweet Alice Ben Bolt," "Hazel Dell," "Annie Laurie," "Kathleen Mavourneen," "Tent- ing Tonight," "The Faded Coat of Blue," "The Vacant Chair," "Just Before the Battle, Mother," "Write Me a Letter from Home," etc., etc., and an evening camp concert, with perhaps a hundred or more voices in the choruses would wind up with "The Shining Shore," "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," and "Nearer, My God, to Thee."
CHAPTER VI.
OUR FIGHTING COLONEL.
aFTER the Bull Run campaign our regi" ment was detailed for garrison duty again and sent to some forts near Arling- ton where we remained for a long time. Our colonel (with a foreign military experi- ence?) was relieved of his command immediately after Bull Run and there came to us a commander who proceeded to jerk things straight in the regi- ment. His name was Jeremiah N. G. Whistler and he had been in the regular army since he was a day old, having been born in camp. He was all mili- tary, through and through, and a disciplinarian of disciplinarians.
He drilled the regiment six days in the week and then had a Sunday inspection, and succeeded in bringing the command to a high state of per- fection. He was a man of fiery temper and when anything touched it off he could let out a string of oaths — of which he had a choice and inexhaust- ible selection — that would produce a sulphurous atmosphere.
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One Sunday morning when our company wa& marcliing by the colonel's tent to go out for in- spection he noticed one of the men swinging his left arm, and the next thing that the Co. H man knew the colonel had him by the coat collar and was shaking him. Then leading him back to his place in the ranks admonished him about repeating the arm swinging again.
But taken all in all he was a good officer and when we went to the front again, excited the ad- miration of the men by his bravery under fire.
At Petersburg he was wounded and later was breveted for gallant and distinguished service.
He re-entered the regular army after the war and at the time of his death was a colonel.
Judging by the experience we had with three or four colonels, I should pick out a regular army officer every time for a commander. They expect the men to obey orders and do their full duty, and on the other hand a man can depend on getting all that belongs to him and justice on all occasions.
ATE THE colonel's DINNER.
Col. Whistler was fond of good feeding and one day his cook served up his dinner about the time that a staff officer from the brigade headquarters rode up with a message for him. While he was on the outside reading it one of the men happened along back of the tent and noticed the tempting eatables waiting for an eater, and, being hungry,
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he slipped in and proceeded to stow food away as only a hungry soldier can. He was so busy about it that he did not notice the officer peering in the front of the tent. The brazen effrontery of the man had rendered the officer speechless. Final- ly he recovered himself enough to exclaim: "Do you know, you d — d rascal, whose food you're eating?" The man looked up as he helped himself to another chicken wing, and said: "No, colonel, and I'm jiggerod if I'm the leastways particular about such things when I'm hungry and rations are scarce." The colonel admired the cheek and coolness of the man and told him to eat his fill and if he ever heard of his telling of the affair he would have him courtmartialed.
LOVE AND WAR.
While we were doing duty at Arhngton many of the fair sex of Washington and Georgetown frequently honored us with their presence at our dress parades, and among them was the beautiful and charming daughter of Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth, the gifted authoress, who resided in a pretty rose-embowered cottage that nestled among the trees and shrubbery on Georgetown heights, and just across the Potomac from our fort.
Adjt. Lawrence of the Second New York was about as slick a looking officer as ever walked out in front of a regiment on dress parade, and it is
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not strange that Miss Southworth fell in love with him, and an intimacy sprang up that resulted in the fair young southern girl changing her name to Mrs. James V. Lawrence.
During the preliminaries the writer was the bearer of many presumably tender missives over to the Georgetown cottage, and as he had to wait for the sweet-scented replies he was entertained by Mrs. Southworth, who probably knew just how fond a young, growing boy is of lemonade, cakes and other sweet things, and the charming lady took it upon herself to make life very pleasant to the youngster during the brief visits at her home. Soon after the marriage of the young couple Lieut. Lawrence was detailed on staif duty and was never returned to our regiment.
CHRISTMAS IN CAMP.
How well I remember my first Christmas in camp. Our company was at Fort Haggerty on the road leading from the Acqueduct bridge to Arlington. Capt. Smith's home had been one of the handsomest in Carthage before the war and under his command the fort had been transformed into one of the slickest ones in the defences of Washington.
Christmas morning in 1862, after the calling of the roll our company formed in line and marched up in front of the captain's quarters. Sev- eral of the boys had provided themselves with
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some nice evergreen trees, and when the captain appeared the command was given "present arms" and the movement was executed with the trees. The fifer and drummer of the company then played "Hail to the Chief" and "The Girl I Left Behind Me."
The captain appeared mightily pleased and made us a nice little speech, and said that he wished that he could send us all home for the holidays but as that was an impossibility he had planned to make us as happy as circumstances would permit, and the quartermaster had been furnished money to get up a dinner in keeping with the occasion. Cheers and a tiger were given for our kind-heart- ed commander, and then the voice of one who has several times been mentioned by the writer spoke out: "Pardon me axin' the question, cap'n, but would there be a wee drop for anny so inclined.?" The captain smiled and nodded affirmatively.
Our camp was near where there had been a brick yard, and with old bricks that had been dug out of the ground a tasty httle house had been built for the captain and a brick oven for the cooks. In this turkeys had been roasted and rice puddings and potatoes baked. There was also oyster stew, oysters and clams on the half shell and mince pies that some soldier's wife had made for us. None of old Co. H will ever forget that Christmas. After the feast pipes, tobacco and cigars were passed,
76
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0 2
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and then pails of milk punch went round for those "so inclined."
Ah, dear, brave old Co. H, what would I not give to see you line up once more as you did on that Christmas day in the long ago.
For more than twenty-five years I could, from memory, call the roll of the original company, just as I had heard our old orderly, Tom Murphy, call it so many times. Poor Tom earned his shoulder straps but sleeps in a southern grave.
Of the boys who made merry with us in old Vir- ginia on the Christmas day of long ago, many gave up their lives on the battlefields of the south, Potter, Williamson, Zeigler, Clapsaddle and Lieut. RofF at Cold Harbor; Ed. Roland, Smith, Thurs- ton, Slater, Crowner, Symonds at Petersburg; Billy Cook, Frank Farr, Tom Murphy and sev- eral others between there and Appomattox.
No, old Co. H will never again fall in for roll call on this side of the "deadline." The tents are folded, the implements of war are rusting, I find that the cords and snares on my drum are fraying with age, "All is quiet on the Potomac."
'Tis but a memory.
VETERAN VOLIJNTEEES.
A grave problem confronted the government In 1863 for within a- few months it would lose the services of most of its tried and seasoned soldiers by reason of expiration of service. A proposition
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was made to the three years men that if they would re-enhst they would receive $402.00 bounty and a thirty day furlough. The proposition was ac- cepted by a majority of the old soldiers and the old organizations were retained with their officers.
The most of our company and regiment re-en- listed. They sent us home in squads, and when it came my turn I was laid up with the mumps and could not go with my father.
While I was north on my furlough Gen. Grant assumed command of the army confronting Gen. Lee and preparations were made for active opera- tions.
My father wrote me that our regiment had re- ceived orders to be ready to go to the front at an hour's notice.
My furlough had several days to run but I took the first train for Washington and in twenty-four hours walked into camp.
I found our regiment all ready and awaiting or- ders. Field tents, rubber blankets and other things were Issued to us which Indicated that we were to take the field.
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CHAPTER VII.
OFF FOR THE FRONT.
^^^"^ HE next day we assembled at Fort Cor- ■ ^ ^ J coran. The regiment had been filled up ^^^^/ with recruits until there were about 1,800 men on the rolls. Probably 1,500 were present for duty when we left to join the Army of the Potomac.
We were ordered to "fall in" at noon and in a few moments we marched away with colors flying and the band playing a lively quickstep.
It was like leaving home to go away from the forts we had learned to love so well, the huge walls of which had been cemented with the sweat from the brows of most of the men.
The weather was fine when we started but after we had gone about two miles one of those drench- ing Virginia showers overtook us and we were wet to the skin.
It does not need to rain over fifteeen minutes in Virginia to make the mud from six to twelve inches deep, so we had to wade in the red clay mud the other seven miles to Alexandria.
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Much has been said and written about Virginia mud, but to appreciate its sticking quahties one needs to march and lie down and sleep in it.
The boys used to wish that the editors who were writing the "On to Richmond" editorials could be compelled to take a twenty-five mile march in the mud loaded with a thirty or forty pound knapsack, a musket, forty rounds of ammunition, canteen and haversack with five days' rations.
At Alexandria we boarded an old transport and made ourselves as comfortable as possible, lying out on the open decks in our rain-soaked clothing. I do not know that I ever slept sounder than that night, and when I opened my eyes in the morning found that we were at Belle Plain landing on the Potomac, the base of supplies for Gen. Grant's army. The river was filled with boats of every conceivable kind waiting to discharge their loads.
During the forenoon we went ashore and were marched up on some high ground overlooking the river. We eyed with as much curiosity as a small boy would his first circus two or three thousand rebel prisoners captured at Spottsylvanla.
The next morning. May 17th, 1864, we fell in bright and early, and at the command "fours right" marched in the direction of Fredericks- burg.
The day was a fearfully hot one and the dust rising in clouds filled our mouths and nostrils, thoroughly impregnated our clothing, hair and
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skin, producing intolerable thirst. At the sight of a house or brook the men would make a break from the ranks and run for dear life to get a chance at the water.
GOOD-BYE KNAPSACK.
INIy first forenoon's struggle with a knapsack convinced me that I had got enough of it. Select- ing a shirt, towel, a pair of socks, soap and writ- ing portfolio I rolled them up in a blanket which I slung over my shoulder and went it more com- fortably.
Many others imitated my example and the road- side from Belle Plain to Spottsylvania was strewn with blankets, knapsacks, overcoats, etc. We passed through Fredericksburg about sunset and assumed that a halt would be made near the city, but they did not halt us to even boil coffee, so we plodded on in the darkness, nibbled our hard tack and wondered how much that they thought we could stand.
At midnight we had caught up with Grant's army after a march of thirty-five miles.
8X
CHAPTER VIII.
IN A BIG FIGHT WITH HANCOCk's VETERANS.
HE next morning we werd awakened by the booming, of cannon and clash of mus- ketry. As we got up off the ground we could sec smoke curling up from the tops of the trees on a hillside a mile or more to the south of us. We were foot-sore and covered M'ith dust from our big march of the previous day, and few of us had any water in our canteens. Before wc had time to find any or make coffee we got the command "fall in" and were soon advancing toward the firing line.
On every hand there were evidences of the terri- fic fighting that had been going on for several days. The fields were strewn with clothing, knap- sacks, canteens, muskets, dead horses and broken artillery caissons, and the trees were riddled with bullets, shot and shell. The dead had been buried but with such haste that in many places the bodies were scarcely covered. One time as we came to a halt I was horrified to see a human hand protrud- ing from the earth near my foot.
Drum Taps in Dixie.
We had not gone far before we began to meet the wounded, some able to walk, while others were borne on stretchers and blankets. It surely began to look like real warfare. Our men grew silent and their faces took on a serious expression. We knew that our time had come and that the regi- ment with its full ranks was to strengthen the thin line in front.
On our march the day before there had been much discussion among the musicians as to what we would do in case of a battle. No instructions had been given us and we had rather come to the conclusion among ourselves that when we got to close quarters we would drop out and keep as much out of range as possible.
Our anxiety about the part we were to take in the conflict increased as we approached the front. Occasionally some of the boys would suggest to Harry Marshall, our drum major, that it was about time for us to fall out. There was "no use of us going up to get shot at when we had nothing to shoot back with."
Finally when wc paused for a few moments Harry appoached the colonel and, saluting, asked it there was any use of us needlessly exposing our- selves.
"Needless exposure," yelled the colonel. "What
in did you enlist for.^* Your place is with the
regiment and I'll see that you are instructed as to your duties." And, turning to our surgeon, he
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said: "Major, I want you to take charge of the musicians and in case of a fight see that the young rascals do .their duty."
I have always thought that but for this inci- dent we should have seen less of the front line than we did that summer.
Dr. Payne, our surgeon, was a fine fellow and he had seen much service before being assigned to our regiment. He immediately told us to fall out to one side and proceeded to tear up some red flannel in small strips which he tied around our right arms, explaining that this was a badge the enemy would respect when we were caring for the wounded.
While the doctor was fixing us up our regiment marched by and there is nothing in all my war memories that made a deeper impression on me than that scene.
I see them now as I saw them on that bright May morning — father, friends, comrades, march- ing with steady step, shoulder to shoulder, on to meet the foe in mortal encounter.
We followed in the rear of the regiment and were halted just under the brow of a hill, where we stood in line nearly two hours. Bullets clipped small branches from the trees and shells went swishing through the air over our heads. A couple bursi: in front of us and an occasional solid shot would go rolling down the hill.
Probably there is no more trying situation for 84
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troops to be placed in than to be held as a reserve during a battle. The tension on one's nerves is something awful. If one is going to be shot it is something of a satisfaction to be able to return the compliment.
While the regiment was in line a few of us hunted up a spring and carried water to our friends who could not leave the ranks. One of the few times that I remember seeing tears in my father's eyes was when I handed him a canteen full of water that morning.
The fighting in our front ceased about ten o'clock and we were moved about two miles to the left. In the afternoon we settled down in some woods and were permitted to take the rest we so much needed, and the next morning we were a jolly lot as we sipped our coffee and nibbled hardtack.
Some of the men grumbled, however, because we did not get a chance to take a hand in the affair of the day before.
The forces of Grant and Lee, numbering some 200,000, had been hammering away at each other for about ten days and the carnage had been great, but the forenoon of the day in mind was as quiet and peaceful as if there was not an armed man within ten miles.
It was but the calm before a storm, and scores of our regiment who were so full of life and hope that bright May morning were weltering in their blood before sundown.
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About two o'clock in the afternoon an orderly with foam-covered horse rode up to our colonel and handed him a message. The men noticed that the color came to the officer's face and they held their breath for the command that they knew was com- ing.
Gracey, our little Swiss bugler, who was select- ed by Gen. Hancock a few weeks later to sound the charge for the Second Corps at Cold Harbor because his bugle could be heard failther than any other, blew a blast on his silver trumpet that brought every man to his feet and in less than five minutes the Second Heavy were standing in line at "attenition."
The colonel rode out in front of the regiment and said "men of the Second New York, the time has come when you will have an opportunity to show your mettle. Keep together ; don't let your lines be broken ; keep cool ; obey orders and you will be all right."
The men started a cheer for the colonel, but he motioned silence. Then came the command "Fours right, march !"
We soon came to a nice smooth road which ran through the woods and then we got orders to "double quick."
Then we heard heavy musketry firing which increased in volume continually and we thought the whole rebel army were taking a hand in.
The boys in the ranks made sundry comments 86
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as we rushed along, such as "Guess we'll get ini- tiated this afternoon."
"Wouldn't you like to be back in the forts now?" "Keep step there, Jimmy." Jimmy West was a little Irishman who could never keep step.
When we emerged from the woods into a large open field we could see a long line of battle on a hillside probably half a mile away.
Our regiment was quicky formed in column by battalions, our colors unfurled, and as we double quicked across that field 1,500 strong, with per- fect alignment as if it were a review, it was thrill- ing, inspiring and to have been there was to have the scene fixed in one's memory forever. Other regiments besides our own were hurrying to the front. Batteries of artillery went by with the horses on the gallop and the drivers lashing them just as you have seen them in pictures.
Generals' aides and orderlies rode like mad to and fro directing the troops to positions, for Gen. Ewell had broken through the Union lines in a desperate effort to turn the right flank of Grant's army.
THE PAGEANTRY OF WAR.
War certainly has its fascinations as well as its horrors, and there is an enchantment that thrills in the movements of large bodies of soldiery with their bayonets glistening in the sun, the flags and guidons flying, the trumpets of the cavalry ring-
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ing piercingly and thrillingly, the field batteries rattling and rumbling along the road, with a score or more of bands playing. Nothing can make so striking or enchantng a picture. Artists can por- tray such a scene on canvas, but they cannot make you feel the thrill you experience when you are an active participant, touching elbows and keeping step with a thousand comrades whose hearts are young and gay.
An officer rode up to our colonel and gave him instructions to report to Gen. Tyler off to the right of the open field. We were assigned a posi- tion behind a low stone fence, where we waited for about fifteen minutes. While lying there the order was given to "fix bayonets." If you have "been there" yourself you know all about it. If not, let me tell you in all sincerity that the click- ing of the cold steel will make an impression on one that will send the chills down his spine every time he thinks of it in after years.
HORRIBLY SUGGESTIVE.
From our position behind the wall we could not see the fighting, but the din of the battle came rolling and crashing to us through the woods and the wounded from the front line kept coming to the rear, covered with blood and the smoke of battle.
The sight wasn't pleasant, and moreover it was an object lesson that was horribly suggestive. The 88
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affair was getting too serious for much joking by the merrymakers in the ranks. The men were silent, but I know that they were doing a heap of thinking.
The orders to go forward did not come any too soon, for the suspense of waiting is ten times more trying to a man's nerves than to charge the ene- my's lines.
We moved across another open field, where a Jefferson county battery ("C" of the 1st Artil- lery) was in position and shelling a piece of woods.
Gen. Tyler ordered our colonel to detail two companies to support the battery and our com- pany was one of them. I had to go with the reg- iment, and my father stay with his company. There was not much time for leave-taking. The father drew his boy to his side, pushed his cap back, pressed his lips to his forehead. Neither spoke. It was not necessary. Each knew the other's thoughts.
Capt. Smith, whose heart was tender as that of any woman, — "The tenderest are the bravest" — patted the drummer boy of Co. H on his shoulder as they parted and when a few feet had separated them called to him "good-bye," and waved his sword in what might be the last farewell.
Our regiment took an advanced position to the left of the battery where we were ordered to lie down and the men loaded their rifles. "Begins to look like business, boys," remarked Dave Russell.
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Little pufFs of dust were kicked up here and there as the rebel bullets struck the ground in our front.
Soon they came nearer and finally began to go over our heads with a "zz-p-" or a "c-s-ss-s-" which indicated that the Confederates were crowd- ing back the Union lines. "This ain't a fair show." observed one of the boys. "Let us lay here and get plugged full of lead and never see a reb or get a chance to shoot one."
The surgeon ordered us to leave our knapsacks, drums, etc., in the yard of a house near by, and I will mention now that up to this time we have never seen that house again.
About the time we had got ourselves in fighting trim Gracey's bugle sounded "forward," and our regiment went across the field on a run and into the pine woods, the artillery behind us throwing shell over our heads. The woods were full of fly- ing missiles and the first the Second New York knew they got a volley of musketry from the flank and rear. Investigation revealed the fact that the troops who had fired the volley were the Seventh New York. The woods were so dense and full of smoke that it was hard to discern a body of troops a short distance away. The enemy could only be located by the flash of their giuns.
Our colonel was ordered by Gen. Tyler to hold a slight elevation near a ravine. Our lines were spread out and the men ordered to lie down.
"Steady, men, and don't shoot too high," sang 90
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out Col. Whistler. "Better order them rear rank fellows to aim higher or they'll blow our brains out," says one of the front rank men.
"Shut up ; no talking in the ranks !" command- ed Adjutant Coi'win. All of this time men were getting hit by the rebel bullets. "Bill Wright's killed," someone said, and the news was passed along the line.
"If I was in command of this regiment I'd order a charge on the Johnnies and I'd drive them or git licked in the attempt," said big Dave Russell.
One of the saddest sights of the day was to see the major of the First Massachusetts as he rode back through our lines with a bullet wound in his forehead and the blood streaming all over him, and he hardly able to hang on to his horse. He died a few moments later.
This regiment had about 350 casualties in the fight. Over one-third of that number were killed outright.
The contor'tions of one of our drum corps boys who was badly demoralized by the flying bullets, was so ludicrous that I should have laughed if I had been killed for it the next minute. Every time one of those "z-z-ping" minies came near him he would leap in the air and then fall flat on the ground.
Was I frightened.'* Hold your head down so that I can whisper in your ear and I will admit in strict confidence that I was never so scared in
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all my life. Biit I felt somewhat as one of our boys expressed it when he said: "By the great horn spoons, they'll never know I'm afraid if I can help it."
While we were lying there one of the old Penn- sylvania Buck Tail regiments of the Fifth Corps passed over us to do some skirmish work. There were several of these regiments and they were fam- ous fighters. The men all wore a buck's tail on their caps.
Late in the afternoon our regiment took part in a charge and had to go over a rail fence. Our colonel tried to have his horse jump the fence but he would not do it until one of the men took a couple of rails off the top, and then he went over. Down in a ravine he got stopped again with a vine that caught him across the breast. Col. Whistler swore like a trooper and put the spurs to him, but the vine was too strong and men had to trample it to the ground. Col. Whistler elevated himself several degrees in the estimation of his men that day by going into the battle mounted. He had been a martinet when in camp, and was of a peppery disposition. But his conduct at Spott- sylvania commanded the respect of all. "I tell you," said one of the boys, "Jeremiah N. G. Whis- tler is an old fighting cock." "He can't forget his tactics, though," said another. "Do you mind that when we got up to make that dash through the 93
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ravine we did not get the command 'forward' un- til he had dressed us to the right."
The fighting continued until well into the night and when the report of the last gun died out the troops laid down on their arms until morning.
The surgeons and their helpers worked all night removing the wounded. We carried them out of the woods in blankets.
In the rear of our division there were three am- putating tables with deep trenches dug at the foot. In the morning those trenches were full of amputated limbs, hands and fingers, and the piles above the ground were as high as the tables. The confederate forces withdrew from our front in the night, leaving their dead on the field, which were buried by our men as they laid away their comrades.
The clash of arms in which we had had a part was no small affair. Probably more than 40,000 men on each side had taken part in the battle, but the country was so uneven and densely wooded that a participant saw but little of what was go- ing on outside of his own regiment. In fact in almost every engagement the rank and file knew but little of the operations away from their imme- diate vicinity.
At our informal dress parade that night an or- der from Gen. Meade was read, complimenting the heavy artillery regiments for their soldierly conduct the previous day, and saying he would
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thereafter rely upon them as upon the tried vet- erans of the Second and Fifth Corps with whom we had fought our first great battle.
The day after a battle is always a sad one in a regiment. Men search for missing comrades and some are found cold in death who were full of life the day before. No jests are spoken. The ter- ribleness of war has been forcibly impressed on all participants.
The surgeon said that our colonel praised the boys for their assistance in caring for the wound- ed, but part of us lost our drums, as after we fol- lowed the regiment into the woods the lines were shifted about so that we never again saw the house where we had left them. But drums were little used the next few monlths. Drills, inspec- tions, dress parades, etc., gave place to marching, fighting, digging trenches and throwing up breastworks, for we were with Gen. Grant, who proposed to "fight it out on that line if it took all summer."
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CHAPTER IX.
"on to RICHMOND."
EN. GRANT, having decided to change his base of operations, directed Gen. Hancock on the 20th to move his corps to the Ipft as soon after dark as practi- cable. Gen. Horace Porter, who was one of Grant's aides, says that he purposely detached the Second Corps from the rest of the army, his ob- ject being to tempt Liae to attack them.
Of course we poor mortals in the ranks knew nothing of the plans. The privates, nor even the drummer boys, are seldom consuRed in such mat- ters.
Probably if we had been told, in our then used- up condition, that we were setting out on a march that was to last all night and through the next day we should have felt that we could never en- dure it.
Before starting on the march our regiment was formally assigned to service with General Hancock the "Superb," and his Second Corps, and it has al- ways been a pride with me that the fortunes of war cast our lot with such a matchless leader.
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If in my reminiscences I seem to be partial to this organization, I hope my comrades who fought bravely under other standards will forgive me. I mean no comparison. I am speaking of my own, and should we not love our own the best?
When we started, orders were passed through the different regiments that there must not be any talking or any unnecessary noise, and the officers took pains to impress upon us that the rebel cav- alry might dash among us at any moment-
We marched for a long time down a densely wooded road. The night was a beautiful one with the moon, low in the sky, shining in our faces as we plodded along the road.
NAPS ON THE MARCH.
I made the discovery that night that one could sleep walking. Don't you believe it.'' Ask any old soldier. But one would hardly get into a nice nap before there would be a halt away up at the head of the column and several thousand men would go bumping into each other.
Then everybody would drop right down in the road and try to get a rest there, but before we could get two winks ft would be "fall in, fall in, boys," and away we would go again.
A FUNNY PANIC.
A most ludicrous incident occurred during our march that night. A halt of perhaps five minutes
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had permitted nearly all of us to drop off into the arms of morpheus when some general's pack horse broke away from the rest and came tearing down the lines, his load of camp kettles and other culin- ary equipage making a great clattering and cre- ating something of a panic. When I awoke I was running through the woods about three or four rods from the road, and everybody else was doing likewise. One of our band boys ran into a tree and smashed his horn. Others lost their caps, blankets, etc., and we were a very demoralized lot of soldiers for a few moments. But order was soon restored and the march was continued the balance of the night without any other event wor- thy of note.
About daybreak we heard musketry, and our brigade, which was then commanded by Gen. Nel- son A. Miles, was rushed forward to support the cavalry, who were having a brisk little skirmish with the enemy at Guinea station. The rebels were routed, however, without the infantry firing a shot.
We halted long enough to make coffee and then resumed the march, passing that day through a part of the state that had not been ravaged by war.
IN A BEAUTIFUL LAND.
We marched along beauifully shaded roadways, and the air was fragrant with May blossoms. Herds of cattle grazed in luxuriant pastures. 7 97
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The homes of the people were comfortable and everything looked peaceful and inviting to the thousands of poor, tired soldiers as they went marching by.
We only made one halt during the day, which was an intensely hot one. Strong men fell down by the roadside from sheer exhaustion, but the rear guards would drive them on when they came along, for to be left behind was certain capture, and there was not ambulance accommodations enough for the wounded.
Late in the afternoon we reached Milford and, crossing the Mattapony river at that point, in- trenched ourselves on the south side, remaining there the next day, which gave us a much needed rest and afforded us an opportunity to bathe in the river.
It is said the Mattapony was so named because it is made up from four small streams which are called respectively, the: Mat-Ta-Po-Ny.
I was feeling quite down in the mouth, so to speak, when we halted that night, for when I had been taking a little nap in the shade of a rail fence at our midday halt some miscreant had stolen my haversack containing five days' rations. But, thanks to my big hearted comrade, I did not suf- fer for food as long as he had a mouthful.
A GOOD CHUM.
"Will" Coleman was a comrade worth having. 98
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A little older than I, of splendid physique and health, brave, jolly and unselfish, and one who would stand by you until the last. All through the long marches, hardships and battles incident to the campaigns from Spottsylvama to Appo- mattox we shared our rations, drank from the same canteen and slept under the same blanket. Words are inadequate to express what such com- radeship means. No crucible ever tested metal more thoroughly than army life tested human character.
Some that much had been expected of, when put to the test, shrunk in our estimation. Other modest souls developed into heroes when occasion demanded.
It was a grand experience and I believe with few exceptions all the survivors have been better men therefor.
THREE FAMOUS LEADERS.
On May 23 we resumed our march and Gens. Grant and Meade rode with Gen. Hancock at the head of our corps in the forenoon.
We reached the North Anna river in the after- noon and found the enemy in force with plenty of batteries in position on the south side. A spirited artillery duel took place and about six o'clock in the evening Gen. Hancock ordered an assault on the enemy, who had possession of the two bridges. They were driven across the river, but held the south end of one bridge during the night and made
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several attempts to bum it, but a heavy thunder shower came up and partly frustrated their efforts.
We all got a thorough drenching, for we had no tents and had to lie on the ground and take it.
In the morning it was found that the enemy had abandoned their advanced works near the river and our division crossed over and prepared to attack them, but their intrenchments were found so strong the design was abandoned.
A FAMINE AND A FEAST.
The supply trains had failed to connect with the army, and we were almost destitute of rations. I heard many offers of fifty cents to one dollar for a hard tack. The only thing my chum and I had to eat in the forenoon was some corn we found scattered on the ground where horses had been fed.
In the afternoon the irrepressible Coleman went on a foraging expedition and brought back a small chicken, a piece of veal and a "hoe cake," which made us a good meal.
That night the army recrossed the river again and we started out on another of our all-night marches with mud in places half way to our knees.
All of our movements that summer took the form
of a half circle. We used to march twenty or
thirty miles to change the front of not more than
one-fourth of that distance, and the boys very
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appropriately called the movements "Slewing to the left."
The afternoon after leaving the North Anna river we brought up at the Pamunky, which we crossed on pontoon bridges. The enemy was strongly entrenched not far from the river and fired on our skirmishers. Everything indicated hot work. Our regiment was ordered into an ad- vanced position and we built breastworks in plain sigjit of our adversaries, expecting that they would open on us with their artillery every moment, but for some reason they did not do so.
AN ASSAULT.
Early the next day our division, led by Gen. Francis C. Barlow — and a braver soldier never lived— assaulted the rebel lines and to do so had to cross a swampy ravine fully exposed to the fire of the enemy, who were protected by earthworks. The losses of our troops were severe.
INVITED TO COME FORWARD.
The musicians of our regiment were back under the cover of some woods and while the engagement was at its height we saw big George B. — our ser- geant major — coming across the field on a run to- ward us. George explained his mission in a few words, which were about as follows :
"Col. Whistler wants you boys to come up on the fighting line and help the surgeons take care of 101
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our wounded, and you better come p. d. q., too, for the old man was pretty mad when he missed you."
It is needless to say we got there lively, but while we were carrying some wounded past our brigade commander he remarked that we were en- dangering their lives more by trying to remove them during an engagement than to leave them on the ground until the fighting was over.
We thought it the safest, however, to obey our colonel, and after that we took good care that he did not have to send an officer to hunt us up.
The casualties of our regiment in this engage- ment, which was called the battle of Totopotomy, were seven killed and seventy-seven wounded.
THE REBEL YELL.
It is seldom that one in the ranks has a chance to see much of a battle except what may be hap- pening in his own regiment. Such an opportunity came to my chum and me at Totopotomy the after- noon of May 31st, 1864, when we witnessed the charge in open field of a Confederate division and heard for the first time the real Rebel yell, which was so unlike the cheers of the Union soldiers.
After the assault of our division in the fore- noon, matters settled down and there was compara- tive quiet for a couple of hours. About 2 o'clock we heard some lively cannonading over to the right and Coleman, who was one of those boys that always wanted to see all that was going on, sug- 102
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gested that we walk over that way. We found a battery of artillery in an advanced position shell- ing a piece of woods. The captain sat upon a camp stool dressed in a white duck suit and gave directions to his men as though it was target prac- tice. We two boys stood on the earthworks and watched the effect of the exploding shells as they cut off the limbs of the trees or ploughed up the sod in the field in front of the woods. We learned from the artillerymen that the Confederates were massing troops preparatory to making a charge. Soon the rebel yell broke loose and a long line of gray came out of the woods and moved forward in perfect formation. Not a soldier wavered. The scene was thrilling and we were quite unmindful of the fact that our position was a dangerous one. The Confederate troops were supported by a num- ber of pieces of artillery and the gunners had a perfect range on our battery and their shells were soon bursting all about us. Coleman and I quit our sight-seeing from the top of the breastworks and got down behind them, peeping out occasion- ally to watch the movements of the advancing enemy. When they had got within close range our battery opened on them with case shot and cannis- ter, cutting swaths in the ranks of the advancing forces, but they would close up and come on and it looked as though the battery was lost. The cap- tain had received orders to withdraw, but it was too late for him to get away with his guns so he con- 103
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eluded to stay and do the best he could. Several of his horses were killed and disabled and one of the caissons was blown up. Just when it looked as though the rebels were going to sweep everything before them we heard a loud, long cheer and a division of the gallant old 5th Corps double-quicked out to meet them and turned the tide the other way, and soon the Johnnies were in full retreat. They left many dead and wounded in our front, Gen. Ramsey being among the killed.
This was one of the most spectacular engage- ments that I ever witnessed and was about the only one where I had a good opportunity to watch the effects of artillery fire directed against a charg- ing column. Need I say that it was not necessary to keep a diary of such experiences. They were indelibly impressed on my memory as I doubt not they were on that of all other participants.
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CHAPTER X.
BLOODY COLD HARBOR.
^^^^^^ HE next move in the great game of M ^ J war between Grant and Lee was Cold ^^^^/ Harbor — a name indelibly impressed upon every survivor of the campaign. It recalls two weeks of hunger, thirst, hardships that language is inadequate to describe; unsuc- cessful assaults and losses, that tell the story of most desperate fighting. It was Greek against Greek, veteran against veteran.
No one seems to know why the place was so named for, as Pat, Devereaux of our company ex- pressed it, " 'twas no harbor at all, and divil a drop of water to make 'wan wid." Grant con- sidered it an important point, however, and tried to get there ahead of Lee, but as a "comrade in gray" expressed it, "Uncle Robert wasn't caught napping anywhere."
Our corps reached there at a little past 6 the
morning of June 2, after an all-night march with
the heat and dust oppressive beyond description.
An attack had been ordered for the morning, but
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was postponed because of the exhausted condition of the troops.
A DESPERATE WISH.
If I tell you that I heard many wish that they might receive a wound in the impending fight you may think me "yarning," but it is true neverthe- less, for the men were so utterly worn out that they would have willingly risked a wound for the sake of the rest it would give them.
The troops were placed in position during the day and all instructions issued to the various com- manders preparatory for the assault that was to take place at 4.30 the morning of the 3d.
A bugler's grief.
Pardon a little digression while I tell you about a bugler who was a bugler from "way back." There were hundreds and thousands of buglers in the army, but I never heard one who could touch a note to George Gracey of our regjment. One blast of his trumpet would indicate the location of the 2d New York, among a score of regiments. There was music in every sound he made, and I have seen officers of other commands stop and lis- ten when the little Swiss was trumpeting the calls.
At Cold Harbor he was selected by Gen. Han- cock to sound the charge which sent 20,000 of his men into action, because his bugle could be heard clearer and farther than others. It was a proud 106
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moment for our little bugler, but the story is not complete without telling you how the tender- hearted fellow sat down and wept like a child, when, a few moments later, he saw the ghastly proces- sion of mangled and bleeding comrades coming back.
He was afterwards bugler for Gen. Nelson A. Miles at division headquarters and served until the close of the war. For many years he was bugler at the Bath Soldier's Home.
I last saw him at a reunion of our regiment at Frankfort, N. Y., and, although he was bent over with the weight of three score years and ten, he had not forgotten his cunning with the bugle and when he alighted from an early morning train and let off a few blasts from his old war-scarred trum- pet the citizens of that peaceful Mohawk village must have thought that Gabriel had come.
George Gracey has long since been "mustered out," and he who had trilled that sweet, sad and long farewell at the graves of thousands of his comrades has had "taps" sounded for him.
THE BATTLE.
When the rays of the rising sun lifted the mists
from the Chickahominy lowlands on the morning
of June 3, 1864, Cold Harbor was scarcely known
beyond the sound of a rifle shot. When that same
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sun was dropping behind the western horizon in the evening of that day the name was on the tongues of milhons all over the land.
Promptly at 4.30 a. m. the attack was made by the 2d, 6th and 18th corps. Gen. Francis B. Bar- low (after the war attorney general of New York) led our division and forced the enemy to retreat from a sunken road.
Gen. Nelson A. Miles was our brigade com- mander at the time.
Beyond the road was a hill from which the enemy's artillery were enabled to do frightful execution. Barlow again ordered a charge and led his men with a rush, carrying everything be- fore them, capturing several hundred prisoners, a stand of colors and three pieces of artillery. Gen, Gibbons' second division on the right did some magnificent fighting. Gen. Birney's third division were in reserve and not actively engaged.
The vigorousness of the contest may be inferred from the fact that the losses of the two divisions were over 2,200 and the assault was over inside of one hour.
The casualties of the other commands engaged brought the losses of that assault up to nearly 6,000 men.
Think of it ! Quite one-fourth of the population of Watertown put out of action in less than one hour's time.
The musicians of our regiment were not with 108
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the assaulting column this day, but the writer had a father with the force and can assure the reader that it was a mighty anxious time until he found him unharmed.
BRAVERY OF THE WOUNDED.
We had plenty of work to do in assisting the surgeons. Acres of ground were covered with bleeding, mangled men with the dust and smoke of battle upon them. It was touching to notice how bravely most of them endured suffering while need- ing attention and comforts that could not be given them.
I recall how little Will Whitney, one of the "ponies" of our company as the boys were called, lay there on the ground shot clear through the body, patiently waiting his turn, while a big fel- low with a wounded hand was dancing around and making a terrible fuss until Whitney, thoroughly disgusted, spoke out. "Shut up, there, old man, you're not the only one that got scratched in this fight."
I assisted to the rear another of the lads of Co. H, Henry C. Potter, a former schoolmate at Car- thage, and as bright and promising a young man as any who went to the war. His left arm was badly shattered, necessitating an amputation. There was not a murmur ; not a regret. He was glad it was not his right one, for with that saved he could be of some help to his father in the store.
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He made me promise to stay by him during the operation, and after it was over I assisted him into an ambulance and bade him a last good-bye, for he did not live to see Jefferson county again.
IN INTRENCHMENTS.
After the fighting of June 3 Gen. Grant in- structed the commanding officers to have the troops intrench themselves as best they could.
In many places the lines were only forty or fifty yards apart. The ground all about was low and marshy, which caused chills and fever.
Our regiment occupied a sort of angle so that we were exposed to bullets from the flank as well as front. The sharpshooters got in lots of their deadly work at Cold Harbor, and if a head was shown above the earthworks several "minies" would go whizzing past. Just for fun the boys used to elevate their caps on a bayonet for the "Johnnies" to shoot at.
The men on the picket line dug holes or trenches to protect themselves and could only be relieved at night under the cover of darkness. All day long they would lie there in the broiling sun with little food or water, and between the lines were dead men and horses which polluted the atmosphere. Some of the wounded from the fight of the 3d were on the field up to the 7th, completely covered by the fire of the enemy's pickets and sharpshooters, 110
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although the men made heroic efforts every night to bring their comrades in.
A TRUCE.
"Let us bury our dead:
Since we may not of vantage or victory prate;
And our array, so grand in the onslaught of late. All crippled has shrunk to its trenches instead.
For the carnage was great; Let us bury our dead."
"Haste and bury our dead!
No time for revolving of right and of wrong;
We must venture our souls with the rest of the throng; And our God must be judge, as He sits over head.
Of the weak and the strong. While we bury our dead."
Gen. Grant made overtures to Lee the 5th for a truce, but no cessation of hostihties took place until the evening of the 7th, the hours being from 6 to 8.
The dead were buried where they fell and, strange as it may seem, quite a few men were found alive after lying there about four days with- out any food or water except what they may have had when wounded.
The case of a man I assisted in bringing in our lines who had five wounds on his body was a sad one, but the surgeons thought his life could be saved.
I wish I might find words to portray to the reader something of the impressiveness of the scene at Cold Harbor that night. Ill
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Imagine, if you can, two mighty armies — that for weeks had been grappling with each other in deadly contest, each doing its utmost to slay and destroy the other, laying aside their implements of war as the day draws to a close, and with the sun casting its last red glare over all, as out from the ranks on either side came the men of war on their errand or mercy; the blue and gray interming- ling, looking for friends and comrades that had fallen; permitted to carry them back into their own ranks to live or die among those with whom they served.
The picture will never be effaced from my mem- ory, and all who witnessed that or a similar scene, will heartily endorse the saying of the late Gen- eral Sherman that "War is hell."
REFUSED TO BE BURIED.
The burial of the dead on the battlefield had to be done so hurriedly many times that more than one poor fellow who perhaps had been stunned and left on the field had a "close call" to being buried alive. A case in mind was that of one at Cold Har- bor who had been picked up as dead, and as the men dropped their burden by the open trench the shock resuscitated the man and he faintly asked :
"What's going on, boys.?"
The response was, "We were going to bury you, Shorty."
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Drum Taps in Dixie.
"Not if I know myself," he replied. "Get me a cup of coffee and I'll be all right; I won't be buried by that country clodhopper."
The "clodhopper" referred to was the sergeant in charge of the squad, who belonged to a company of our regiment that came from the central part of the state, while the man who had been so near the "dark valley" was a member of a New York City company.
TO ARMS AGAIN.
At 8 o'clock sharp the white flags were furled, and the buglers from either side sounded the "re- call." The men returned to their commands, the swords were unsheathed, the muskets reloaded, the cannon unmuzzled and hostilities were resumed — such is war.
"Hark! the musketry roars, and the rifles reply: Oh, the fight will be close and the carnage be dread;
To the ranks let us hie — We have buried our dead."
11?
CHAPTER XI.
HANCOCK AND HIS MEN.
ENERAL HANCOCK possessed to a re- markable degree the power of exciting to enthusiasm the men he so often led to victory. And even a drummer boy may be pardoned the pride he feels in the en- during fame of this intrepid commander.
During the '64 campaign he was compelled to ride in an ambulance on the long marches because of the breaking out afresh of his old Gettysburg wound. But he did not ask a leave of absence, and when there was any fighting he mounted his horse and was at the head of his troops.
The personnel of his corps was probably the most unique of all the army. The most prominent organization and one deserving more than a pass- ing notice was the famous "Irish brigade," the representatives of that race which distinguished itself on the fields of Fontenoy.
This brigade never lost a flag, although it cap- tured OA^er twenty stands of colors from the enemy. 11*
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The Irish brigade was probably the best known of any organization in the army.
It belonged to the first division of Gen. Han- cock's corps.
The brigade was in continuous service and lost over 4,000 men in killed and wounded, more men than it ever mustered at one time, for the regi- ments composing it were small.
The regiments which properly belonged to the brigade, together with their losses, were:
Sixty-third New York, with a loss of 156 killed; 69th New York, 259 killed; 88th New York, 151 killed; 28th Massachusetts, 250 killed; 116th Pennsylvania, 145 killed.
The old 69th New York lost more men in action than any other infantry regiment from the Empire State.
At the "Bloody Lane," Antletam, eight color bearers of this regiment were successively shot down, and at Fredericksburg the color bearer was found dead with his flag wrapped around his body. Another instance illustraiting the devotion of the brave Irish boys for the flag of their adopted country was at the "Bloody Lane," where 16 men of the 63d New York were killed or wounded carrying the colors that day.
An incident of the brigade's assault on Marye's
Heights was the distribution of little sprigs of
green to the men as they stood in line waiting the
order to forward. It is related that their gallant
115
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commander, Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, placed one in his cap. The assault failed, but not for lack of bravery and dash, as attested by the long, well-aligned row of dead within a few yards of the rebel breastworks ; and by each ashen face was a sprig of Irish green.
There was another Irish brigade under Hancock composed of Pennsylvania troops, and commanded by Gen. Joshua Owen. They distinguished them- selves at Gettysburg and were commonly known as "Paddy Owen's regulars."
Another brigade of the corps was known as "Corcoran's legion."
The second corps was prominent by reason of its long continuous service at the front. It in- scribed upon its banners a greater number of en- gagements than any corps of the army. Likewise its casualty list was the largest.
It also had to its credit the capture of more men, guns and colors from the enemy than the rest of the Army of the Potomac combined.
Many years after the war General Hancock attended a national encampment of the G. A. R., and after the veterans had passed in review a dis- tinguished U. S. Senator remarked to the general that he saw less of his old corps represented than other organizations and asked the reason why, to which Hancock replied, "The men of the 2d Corps, Senator, are mostly in heaven." X16
Drum Taps in Dixie.
THE GENERAL AND THE DRUMMEE BOY.
A score or more of years after the war, when General Hancock was in command of the Depart- ment of the East, with headquarters at Governor's Island, the writer happened in New York and the desire came over him to get a look at his old com- mander once more. He remembered that in the army there is a great disparity in the rank of a general in command and the boys who beat the drums, therefore he had no thought of a personal interview with the general. But when he was walk- ing off the landing he saw a distinguished looking officer approaching, and recognizing him as the leader he had been proud to follow in other days, something of the old time enthusiasm of those days was rekindled, and as they met the ex-drummer boy saluted and made known his former connection with the general's old command. No other introduction was necessary. The hearty greeting gave proof that Hancock had a warm place in his heart for the least of his "boys," as he called them.
The general was planning a trip to Sandy Hook for that day to inspect some new ordnance and an invitation was extended to the ex-drummer boy to be one of the party. There were several distin- guished officers in the company, but none received more attention from the general than his humble follower of the Sixties.
Later the writer exchanged two or three letters 117
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with the general and in one he referred to his former command as follows: "Your references to the old 2d Corps bring up many pleasant and sad remembrances. It has always been my regret that it was not in my power to reward every man who served with me as he deserved."
THE soldier's FARE.
A lady said the other day, "Tell us in your next what the men had to edt out at the front, how they managed to do the cooking, washing of clothes, etc.
Well now, the cooking did not bother us one bit, for we did not have anything to cook. When at Cold Harbor we had not had a vegetable for weeks, and beef only twice, and the flesh was so tainted with wild onions, on which the cattle had fed as they were driven through the country, that it could hardly be eaten. Coffee, hard tack, sugar, with a small allowance of salt pork two or three times during a month was what we had to live on.
Money would not purchase anything because the sutlers were all sent to the rear when Gen. Grant crossed the Rapidan.
Each man carried a little tin pail in which he boiled coffee, holding it over the fire with a stick. A quartet of boys who were making coffee one morning at Cold Harbor had their breakfast spoiled by a piece of a shell dropping into the fire. 118
Drum Taps in Dixie.
LAUNDERING ON THE MARCH.
When we started out on the campaign our well filled knapsacks made us the laughing stock of the veterans of the 2d Corps, but gradually we had lightened our loads until we were down to a blanket, half a shelter tent, possibly a towel and a piece of soap, and some little keepsakes, all of which were twisted up in the blanket and slung over the shoulder. When we came to a stream the men would pull off their sliirts, rinse them and if no halt was made would put them back on wet, or else hang them on their guns to dry on the march.
IN ANOTHER MAn's BOOTS.
After a few weeks our shoes were nearly worn out, and in this connection I must turn aside to tell you how one of my comrades came into pos- session of a nice pair of boots.
It was the day following a big battle. Our regi- ment was being moved to the left and in doing so we passed several amputating tables where the sur- geons had performed their operations on the wounded the night before. Trenches had been dug at the ends of the tables but were filled to over- flowing with hands, arms and legs. The boy espied a nice pair of boots protruding from one pile and, pulling them out, found that some staff officer had amputation performed above the knees. The limbs were drawn from the boots and the boy remarked 119
Drum Taps in Dixie.
that they were about his fit; so he exchanged his old shoes for them. I think I should rather have gone barefooted from there to Appomattox than to have done likewise.
120
CHAPTER XII.
TO PETERSBURG.
ON the night of June 12, '64, the with- drawal of the army from the trenches at Cold Harbor began. The picket lines were not disturbed until the army were several hours under way.
Of course there were all sorts of rumors as to where we were bound for. Many were of the opinion that we were going to White House land- ing and take transports for Washington, but Grant was not that kind of a general. He had started out to destroy Lee's army and he was going to keep hammering away until they were licked.
The march from Cold Harbor was a hard one. It is a great wonder how men could bear up under the hardship, considering what they had gone through for several weeks.
No halt was made until morning, and after we had made coffee we were hurried on again. Would- be stragglers were forced along at the point of the bayonet.
Before we left Cold Harbor our colonel had given orders that all of the drummer boys who were without drum should be given a gun, but I 121
Drum Taps in Dixie,
was excused from carrying one on this march be- cause of an injury caused by falhng in a trench while removing] wounded from between the hnes one nigjit. My father tried in vain to get me a chance to ride in an ambulance or wagon ; there were not accommodations enough for the badly wounded.
We arrived at Wilcox's Landing on the James river the night of the 13th, where a pontoon bridge 2,000 feet long had been laid across the river.
The next morning the army crossed over, and it was a sight to stir the sensibilities of even a weary soldier, to see the thousands marching across the river, all in battle array. The water was dotted with tugs, gunboats and transports loaded with troops, and what made it more impressive to me was the thought that it was a real genuine thing and not a mere show.
A FORCED MARCH WITHOUT RATIONS.
It was expected that our haversacks would be replenished after we crossed the river, but Gen. Hancock received a dispatch from Meade, order- ing him to march his command without delay to Petersburg. We started between 10 and 11 o'clock and at 6:30 that evening Hancock reported to Gen. Smith, commander of the 18th corps, whose troops had already engaged the enemy and cap- tured some of the outer defenses of the city.
We relieved Smith's troops in the frortt line of 122
Drum Taps in Dixie.
works under the cover of darkness, and it was nearly midnight before we were in position and could lie down.
THE BATTLE OPENS.
At daylight Gen. Hancock ordered his brigade and division commanders to make reconnoissances in the front and the enemy was forced back all along the lines.
Our regiment advanced through a peach or- chard, exposed to a scathing fire of musketry.
Col. Whistler was struck in the face by a bullet, while superintending the deploying of skirmishers, but was not disabled so but that he remained with the regiment, but it did make him fighting mad, and as he walked up and down the hne with the blood dropping all over the front of his clothes he indulged in "cuss" words of the most expressive kind.
After the fighting quieted down, Adjt. Brazee persuaded him to go to the rear. He was breveted brigadier general for his conduct that day, and given command of a brigade after his recovery. (Maj. Whistler of the regular army is a son of the officer mentioned.)
Capt. Barry, the favorite officer of the line in our regiment, was killed that morning, and the be- loved commander of the Irish brigade, Col. Pat- rick Kelly, one of the best officers of the 2d corps, 123
Drum Taps in Dixie.
fell with the colors in hands while leading his men in a charge on a rebel fort.
The balance of the army not having arrived Gen. Meade ordered Hancock to hold his position until evening, when a general attack would be made.
A HOT PLACE.
Our regiment had been in some pretty hot places that summer, but the position that day was a little nearer the infernal regions than we had ever been before. A low stone wall was our only protection from the enemy, who were well intrenched in some woods about 75 yards distant across an open field.
Behind us the ground sloped down to a little brook which had its waters reddened with the blood of thousands of boys in blue a few hours later.
Several batteries were massed in the rear of us and they kept up a furious cannonading to de- tract attention from the movements of the troops elsewhere.
The air was full of hissing shells, which passed so close to us that we could feel their hot breath, and one would involuntarily clap his hand to his head expecting his cap to be swept off. Our posi- tion was so near the enemy that occasionally a shell would burst over us, wounding some of our men. Lieut. Col. Palmer of our regiment was so wounded, a ball from a spherical cased shell striking him in 124
Drum Taps in Dixie.
the breast and, passing through his body, lodged back of the shoulder blade.
Palmer sat down under a tree and told our sur- geon to cut it out. The doctor suggested that he better take something for the operation. But Palmer's grit was of the right sort and taking off his slouch hat he slapped the ground with it and said : "Go ahead, doc, and cut the damned thing out, and be lively about it, too, for others need your attention."
Finally the casualties became so numerous that Maj. McKay went to the artillery officer and told him he was killing off our own men and if he did not cut his fuses longer he would order his regi- ment to take the battery, and when a little later a staff officer rode over and ordered the major under arrest he found out that a captain of a battery was one not to be fooled with when in line of duty.
RATIONS AND A CLOSE CALL,.
In the afternoon we heard the welcome news that rations were waiting us in the rear and details were made from the several companies to go after them.
The writer went with Sergt. "West" Powell and the squad from our company. In order to get back to the supply trains it was necessary for us to cross several open spaces fully exposed to the fire of the confederates.
When we came to such a place we would sep- arate, run a few yards and throw ourselves on the :25
Drum Taps in Dixie.
ground, while the bullets would go whizzing over our heads.
On our return each one carried a rubber blanket slung over his shoulder, containing rations for our hungry comrades. While we were creeping along close to an abandoned earthwork a shell struck the bank and exploding, hurled dirt and gravel over and about us.
Something struck me on the side of my head and thinking I was shot I fell on the ground and called to my companions. They gathered around and on examination found I was sound except for a discolored spot and a stinging sensation prob- ably caused by a small stone striking me.
My nerves were thoroughly shattered, however, and it took some minutes for me to muster up courage to get on my feet and face the music again.
MEMORIES OF AN IMPRESSIVE SCENE.
The 5th and 9th corps caught up with the army that day and while we were back at the wagon train we saw them marching into position on the left of our corps preparatory to the as- sault that was delivered later in the day.
Two-fifths of a century has passed since the roar of the conflict that raged before Petersburg was hushed. The commanders of the opposing armies, indeed, most of the great actors, are dead, while a large portion of the rank and file have
Drum Taps in Dixie.
answered the last roll-call, but the impressiveness of that scene is still fresh in my memory. As I write it all comes back to me. The long lines of blue with their glistening bayonets ; the gleaming sabres of the cavalry; the tattered banners. On a little knoll was Gen. Warren the gallant com- mander of the 5th Corps sitting sidewise on his horse with field glass in hand surrounded by staff officers and couriers. The artillery was thunder- ing. The rattle and roar of musketry along the lines was constant, and when the sun had dropped behind the horizon at the close of that day thou- sands of the blue and the gray were stretched out all over the fields.
And the stars in Heaven, that night, looked down on scenes of suffering and horror that it is impossible to describe.
June 17 was a day full of stirring events. The fighting was desperate and alternated between the different divisions and corps. Gen. Burnside's 9th corps had the honors of the day, capturing several redans, a number of pieces of artillery and several hundred prisoners with their colors.
June 18, Gen. Grant ordered another general assault, which resulted in heavy lossses and no suc- cess. Ten thousand men were killed and wounded in the three days' effort to capture Petersburg by direct assault. I find in Fox's statistics of regi- mental losses that he credits our regiment with
12T
Drum Taps in Dixie.
54 killed and 218 wounded and missing in the three days' conflict, and many commands fared worse.
The killed, wounded and missing of our regi- ment from May 18 to June 23d, were according to Fox, 584.
The troops were now thoroughly exhausted, owing to the incessant movements, both day and night, for about six weeks. There had not been 24 hours in which they had not been in close con- tact with the enemy. The confederates acting on the defensive had been spared the long circuitous marches as well as the costly experiences of as- saulting intrenchments.
Gen. Humphreys, who was chief of staff of the Army of the Potomac in 1864, placed the losses of the army from May 4 to June 19 as 61,400, of which 50,000 were killed and wounded.
RESTING WHERE THERE IS NO REST.
We rested three days, if it can be called rest where there is a constant interchange of shots so that one was liable to get a bullet through his head if it was exposed above the breastworks.
At night the artillery indulged in duels and the shots could be seen traveling in the air. The curves of the shells from the mortars reminded us of the Fourth of July rockets and the boys called it their display of fireworks.
What the men suffered that summer in the 1^8
Drum Taps in Dixie.
trenches before Petersburg none will ever know ex- cept those who experienced the hardships.
We had no tents except the little shelter tents and probably one-half of the men were without those, consequently we had to resort to all kinds of contrivances to get shelter. Some dug individual bombproofs which not only furnished protection from the sun but were proof against any stray piece of shell that might drop among us. Our clothing had been worn for weeks, bathing was out of the question and cooking had to be done far in the rear.
Life in camp with plenty of well cooked rations, sufficient tent accommodations, extra clothing, plenty of water for cooking and bathing and life in the trenches in close contact with the enemy is quite another story.
TESTING THE METAL,.
Constant marching, fighting and digging trenches for several weeks is the kind of soldier- ing that weeds the chaff out of a regiment, and it was noticeable that many officers who had been conspicuous on dress parades and reviews at Washington had failed to toe the mark when put to the test.
"slewing" to the left again.
On the evening of the 21st our corps was ordered to move to the left and the 9th corps took its place in the trenches. The movement was for 9 129
Drum Taps in Dixie.
the purpose of extending the lines and getting possession, if possible, of the Weldon and South Side railroads, and, as usual, the 2d corps was selected to lead.
Gen. Birney was temporarily in command of the corps, Gen. Hancock's wound giving him so much trouble that he had to take a few days' rest.
The 6th corps had been ordered to support the 2d, but owing to the thick woods in the vicinity of the railroad the corps became separated and the confederates under Gen. A. P. Hill slipped in be- tween the two commands and the first intimation we had of their presence was a furious firing on the flank and rear of our division which caused much confusion. So sudden and unexpedted was the attack that part of several regiments and their colors were captured and Gen. Gibbons' second division lost four cannon.
The next morning the lost ground was regained and in this position we remained some time, erect- ing Forts Davis and Sedgwick, which were about a half mile apart south of the old Jerusalem plank road.
CELEBRATING THE FOURTH.
The Fourth of July, 1864, our bands played "Yankee Doodle" and other national airs, while strains of "Dixie," "My Maryland," etc., floated over from the rebel side. In the evening the usual artillery duels furnished fireworks for the occasion. 130
Drum Taps in Dixie.
The lines were farther apart where we were at this time than over on the right near the Appo- mattox River, and the pickets used to meet on friendly terms under the cover of darkness. Of course there were strict orders against it, but they were disobeyed nightly and the men met and swapped stories, coffee for tobacco, newspapers, etc., and went back to their lines and were shoot- ing at each other again the next day.
LINCOLN AT THE FRONT.
President Lincoln made a visit to the front about this time and was enthusiastically received.
The men knew by liis looks, his kind words to the sick and wounded that he was in deep sympathy with them, and I think his presence was of untold benefit to the rank and file of the army.
DRUMMED OUT OF CAMP.
The only man I ever saw drummed out of camp was down in front of Petersburg. He was a coward, and large placards proclaiming the fact were suspended from his neck, one on his breast and the other on his back, his head was shaved and a fifer and drummer marched him all through the division to the tune of the "Rogue's March," and then he was given a dishonorable discharge and sent home.
131
Drum Taps in Dixie.
CAVALRY vs. HEAVY ARTILLERY.
Among the deserters from our company when we were in the forts, at Washington, was one whom we met more than a year later.
One day, on the march as we were taking a few moments rest by the roadside a regiment of cavalry came along and halted opposite us. All at once one of our boys exclaimed "Well, I'll be
blowed if there isn't Sam P , and sure enough
there was our long lost Sam sitting astride of a horse.
"Hello, Sam!" was shouted by several of his old comrades, and one ventured to ask what he had left his first love for.P"
Sam's reply was about as follows : "I was will- ing to serve my country, but I'm cussed if I ever liked that heavy infantry business. It was a dirty, mean trick for them to enlist us for flying artil- lery and then change to heavy, and I didn't propose to tread mud with a big knapsack on my back, a musket and 40 rounds of ammunition, so I just transferred myself to the cavalry."
About this time the bugles sounded "forward" and as Sam rode away with the dusty troopers he called out ; "Good-bye old company H," and thalt was the last we ever saw of him, but I doubt not he rendered good service in the cause for he was not a bad fellow, even if he did prefer cavalry to heavy artillery.
133
CHAPTER XIII.
grant's headquarters at city point.
GITY POINT, a little insignificant wharf town on a point of land at the intersec- tion of the Appomattox with the James River, about 25 miles from Richmond and seven or eight miles from Petersburg, leaped into world-wide importance in 24 hours in June '64. Gen. Grant made his headquarters there until the surrender of Lee and it was the base of sup- plies for the army of the James, as well as the army of the Potomac.
Think if you can what it would mean to Sackets Harbor, if an army of 75,000 to 100,000 men should make that town the base of its operations against Watertown, and over on the Pillar Poinb shore was another army half as large.
Do you know what it means to clothe and feed such an army with the bare necessities, to say nothing of what the horses require to live upon or of the shiploads of ammunition that was used in the nine months' operations.''
All had to be transported there by water, so 133
Drum Taps in Dixie.
you can imagine what a vast number of transports filled the river.
Admiral Porter's fleet of monitors, gunboats and other warlike craft were anchored off Ber- muda Hundred in sight of Grant's headquarters, which was a modest log house on the bank of the Appomattox.
Gen. Grant was the least pretentious general officer in the army and used to walk and ride around with only one orderly with him, and seldom wore any insignia of his rank.
About a mile from his headquarters, towards the front, were the great field hospitals of the army. Large wall tents were used and they covered a vast acreage of ground.
It is not likely that so many sick and wounded were ever gathered together in this country be- fore, and it is to be hoped that there may never be a repetition of it.
Transports left daily loaded with sick and wounded, for as soon as a patient could stand the trip he was sent north to make room for the daily arrivals from the front.
President Lincoln and many other distinguished men were Gen. Grant's guests at different times, and Mrs. Grant spent most of the fall and win- ter with her husband.
The cannonading along Butler's lines as well as at Petersburg could be plainly heard at City Point.
134
Drum Taps in Dixie.
A WAR-TIME RAILROAD.
Gen. Grant wanted a railroad for the trans- portation of supplies and ammunition to the front and he had one built.
There was no pretense of grading; they just placed ties on top of the ground and laid the rails across them.
After the road reached the front it was run along in the rear of the lines and as they were extended the road followed.
The "Johnnies" got a range on the road for a mile or more and they wasted a lot of ammunition trying to hit the flying trains, which were partially protected by earthworks.
They did not run any parlor cars for the sol- diers in those days and one day when the writer was the bearer of some dispatches to City Point he rode in a box car with Gens. Horace Porter, Forsythe and other officers of Grant's staff*, and it occurred to him that we were in greater danger than when at the front. After we got out of the car I heard the engineer talking about the fly- ing run and laughing about the shaking up he gave the officers.
BEN BUTLER.
Ben Butler was the most unique character of the civil war on the Union side and was as full of eccentricities then as in public life in later years.
135
Drum Taps in Dixie.
When Gen. Grant started out on his compaign against Richmond in ISG-l he sent Gen. Butler with a force of 40,000 soldiers around by water to operate from the south side.
Butler landed his army on Bermuda Hundred, a peninsula that lies between the James and Appo- mattox rivers and there the confederates hemmed him in, or as Gen. Grant expressed it, "bottled him up" until Grant's army arrived at Petersburg. Then his intrenched position became of vast im- portance in the operations against the confederate capital.
The 10th artillery boys, who were with that por- tion of the army on Bermuda Hundred, will re- member Butler's "Dutch Gap" canal.
The historic James river, from City Point to Richmond, is one of the crookedest streams in the country, and the rebel batteries had command of a seven-mile bend in the river that Butler thought to get around by cutting across lots, so to speak.
The distance across was not much over a half mile, and Butler conceived the idea of a canal. The banks were high and it required a vast amount of labor to make the excavation.
The position was exposed to the fire of the rebel artillery and they kept up an incessant bombard- ment of the men at work who had holes in the banks after the manner of swallows and when things got too hot they would crawl into their in- dividual bomb proofs.
136
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Butler did not get his canal finished in time to be of service to the gunboats before the fall of Richmond but 1 understand it was completed after the war.
A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION.
One day when I happened to be at City Point a terrible explosion occurred. It was as though a hundred cannon had belched forth. The shock was almost overpowering. The ground trembled and the first thought was that the confederates had in some way gotten a position where they could shell Grant's headquarters and the hospitals. Looking up we saw a dense column of smoke rise to a great height and then spread out like a para- chute and from it fell death dealing missiles in every direction. Some exploded as far away from the landing as the hospitals. Shell flew in all directions. It literally rained muskets, sticks, pieces of iron, etc. When the smoke cleared away the scene from the bluff overlooking the wharves was sickening. Bodies were lying in every direc- tion, blackened and many without heads, arms or legs.
The cause of the accident was a mystery until after the war when on the trial of Werz at Wash- ing-ton a rebel witness confessed that he had done it, making excuse that he had a package for the captain of an ammunition boat at the wharf. He knew the captain was away from the boat so he 137
Drum Taps in Dixie.
left the package containing an infernal machine for him with the fuse adjusted so that an explo- sion would soon follow.
Among the other curiosities at the Point was a stockade where the rebel prisoners were corralled until they could be sent north. Another stock- ade was called a "Bull Pen," where all the de- serters, bounty jumpers, bummers and other freaks were kept until their cases could be dis- posed of.
lee's desperate attempt.
One morning before daylight in March, 186^, when President Lincoln was at City Point, Lee made a desperate attempt to break the lines in front of Petersburg.
It is said his plan was to capture Fort Stedman and adjacent works, turn their guns on our de- moralized troops, capture the railroad running to City Point and destroy Grant's communication with his army.
Fort Stedman was held by the 14th New York heavy artillery, a regiment with many members from northern New York, and the lines at this point were very close together.
The confederate troops assigned for the des- perate work were commanded by Gen. Gordon. Under the cover of darkness they stealthily ad- vanced on the pickets, captured them and made a rush and captured the fort without hardly fir- 138
Drum Taps in Dixie.
ing a shot and took prisoners part of a 9th corps division. The guns of the fort were turned on neighboring forts and the confederate troops pushed forward as far as the railroad cutting the wires that led to Grant's headquarters. But their success was of short duration for our troops soon rallied and drove them out of Fort Stedman, and the movement proved a failure and a costly one to the confederates.
The next day President Lincoln and Gen. Grant visited the front lines.
"hancock's foot cavalry."
Campaigning with the 2d corps in 1864 was strenuous enough to satisfy the most adventure- some. The frequent detours of the command from the rest of the army and the rapidity with which they had been shifted from left to right and right to left caused the confederates to style them as "Hancock's Foot Cavalry."
After the direct assaults on Petersburg failed the corps was sent to extend the lines to the Wel- don and South Side railroads. Then Gen. Grant sent them north of the James to act in conjunction with Gen. Sheridan's cavalry in an attempt to break the rebel lines at Chapin's Bluff on the James river, near Deep Bottom, and after some stubborn fighting, they were ordered back to Petersburg to support Gen. Burnside's forces at the mine explosion.
139
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Then after a few days of comparative quiet Gen. Grant planned another moonlight excursion for the wearers of the trefoil.
On Au.gus;t 13, we marched to City Point and embarked on steamers, the destination of which we had no idea of. Many surmised we were going to Washington to assist in driving Early out of Maryland. Probably it was intended to give such an impression to the enemy, for we sailed down the river towards Fortress Monroe, but after dark the steamers were turned about and under the cover of darkness we were carried up towards Richmond, and a landing was effected the next morning at Deep Bottom.
The other troops at that point were the 10th corps and Gen, Gregg's cavalry. Several unsuc- cessful attempts were made to break the rebel lines and the second day our troops had to fall back, and in this retreat our brave old color bearer was killed, and the national colors were barely saved from the hands of the enemy by the daring of a young man whose name I cannot recall. The bravery he displayed that day entitled him to a medal of honor and a commission, but he did not get either, although he did live to carry the flag until Lee's surrender.
NO REST FOR THE WEARY.
After this aff'air we were returned to Petersburg and without any rest were hurried off to assist 140
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the 5th corps in a demonstration across the Wei don railroad. Several miles of the track was torn up. The ties were burned and the rails piled on the fires. Rations having failed to connect, we subsisted principally on green corn, which was roasted over huge fires.
A PATHETIC INCIDENT.
In the movements to extend the left of Grant's lines at Petersburg the cavalry always blazed the way, usually preceding the infantry by a few hours. I recall a touching incident that illustrates the devotion that a cavalryman's horse has for the man who has been its inseparable companion for months.
We found one day a dead soldier lying on the ground and near him grazing was his faithful horse.
The bloated and discolored features of the dead cavalryman indicated that he had lain there for hours. Probably he had been on picket duty when "picked off" by some sharpshooter, and by his life- less body his faithful and devoted charger had waited for the boy in blue who to his comrades was simply one of the "missing."
ream's STATION.
The night of August 24, our corps rested at Ream's Station a name of which many veterans have keen recollections. In the morning the 141
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pickets reported that the enemy were in force in the vicinity, and accordingly preparations were made to receive them. About 2 p. m. the enemy made an attempt to break that part of the line held by our division, which was then under command of Gen. Nelson A. Miles, but they were repulsed. Later a larger force, backed by 30 or 40 pieces of artil- lery made a second attempt and succeeded in forc- ing a portion of the line held by some troops new to the field. The situation was critical, as the con- federates greatly outnumbered our troops and the enemy had worked around under the cover of the woods until the attacking force was on our flanks and rear. The affair would have ended disas- trously but for the coolness and bravery of both Gens. Hancock and Miles, who rallied the troops and led them in person.
Gen. Hancock's horse was shot under him, but with hat in hand he called on the officers and men of his old corps to stand by him and drive the enemy off. Ah, but he was indeed a superb officer, and men never desert such a leader.
Among the killed of our regiment that day was George Curtin, the popular leader of the regimen- tal band. This was a fig:ht in which it was all "front" and no chance for the musicians to get to the rear.
After this affair there was a lull in active opera- tions for a while, the picket firing and artillery 142
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duels along the intrenched front furnishing spice enough to relieve monotony.
In the latter part of October we "slewed" around to the left again, the object being to get possession of the South Side railroad. The second corps en- countered a large force of the enemy on the 27th on the Vaughn road near Hatcher's Run, and a fiercely contested battle took place. Portions of the 5th and 9th corps were also engaged.
Gen. Winslow's regiment, the 186th New York, joined the 9th corps that day and were near enough to hear some of the fighting and get a smell of powder but I believe did not take a hand in the affair.
In November, Gen. Hancock was called to Washington by the secretary of war to organize a new corps for the army, which it was intended should bo made up principally of veterans who had served their time and been discharged. The men of his old command who had served under him so long were greatly attached to him and regretted his departure exceedingly.
In a report to Gen. Grant he mentioned among other things the losses of his corps as 25 brigade commanders, 125 regimental commanders and over 20,000 men. Comment is unnecessary.
BIG BOUNTY MEN.
The army received large accessions of recruits during the fall of 1864. The big bounties had 143
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induced all sorts of characters to enlist. A large per cent, were professional "bounty jumpers," who were ready to desert to the enemy at the first opportunity.
The 5th New Hampshire of our division, a regi- ment that had an enviable record as fighters, had their depleted ranks filled up with conscripts, sub- stitutes and bounty takers who deserted in such numbers to the "Johnnies" that their pickets used to joke our men about sending over the colors of the regiment, and one day a huge placard was hoisted on the rebel intrenchments which read something as follows :
"Headquarters 5th New Hampshire vols. Re- cruits wanted."
A member of our company while on picket one night shot one of the attempted deserters and as a reward was granted a 30-day furlough.
If a deserter was caught no mercy was shown him.
The penalty was death by shooting or hanging, usually the latter, as shooting was considered too honorable. Scaffolds were erected in the rear of the works and almost every Friday there were numerous executions along the lines.
ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS LOOKED SMALL.
I recall a story told at the expense of one of the big bounty men who joined us just before setting out on the last campaign. He had hardly a chance 144
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to learn to handle a gun when he was sent out on the skirmish line and pretty soon the "minies" were coming his way thick and fast. His comrade was a son of Erin, and an old "vet" who went before the bounties. The nerves of the big bounty man were getting pretty badly shattered, which was noticed by Pat, Avho sang out: "I say, there, me laddy buck! How large does your $1,000 look to ye's now.'"'
"About the size of a silver quarter," was the truthful response.
Another incident illustrates the practical man- ner with which the officers regarded the lives of their men. A veteran captain noticed some of the new accessions to his company needlessly exposing themselves, as he thought, and this is about what he said to them : "Get down behind the breastworks ; you cost vwelve hundred dollars a piece, and I'll be d — d if I am going to have you throw your lives away ; you're too expensive !"
10 145
CHAPTER XIV.
WINTER QUARTERS.
^fc— ;=^^ OW many of our readers who are old W ■ enough to remember back so far can tell ^ _^ what kind of a winter we had 40 years ago? Phobably not more than one in a hundred, unless it be some of the survivors of the army of the Potomac, or the army of the James, for the winter of 1864-5, was one of unusual severity, and there was much suffering among the troops in the trenches before Peters- burg and Richmond.
Possibly it may interest some of the present generation to know how the soldiers, who were only provided with little shelter tents, managed to keep warm through the winter months when it was cold enough down there for ice to form on all of the streams.
Usually four men would go in together and build a little hut out of logs, sticks, pieces of boards or whatever they could pick up, chinking the cracks with Virginia mud, which, when hardened, no amount of rain or wind would loosen. The roof was usually made from their tents unless enough split timber could be got to lap one over the other. 14§
Drum Taps in Dixie.
From old barrel staves, small limbs and the same Virginia mud a chimney would be built at the end of the hut, connecting with a spacious fireplace.
On one side a double bunk made from saplings and covered with grass, leaves or hay, over which was spread a blanket with knapsacks for pillows, formed the beds.
It was a credit to Yankee ingenuity to see the (levices the men had for conveniences. Candle- sticks were made out of bottles or cans filled with sand. Cracker boxes were converted into handy cupboards or tables and little cellars were scooped out from under the bunks.
In the drummer boys' quarters, drums were used for writing stands and card playing tables, while of^en a checkerboard would be sketched on the head of the drum and for men buttons would be used, and with plenty of rations we managed to be quite comfortable except when on picket.
lee's soldieks cold and hungry.
The question of supplies is a vital one to an army, and how to clothe and feed the confederate soldiers was a most serious problem to the southern leaders in the last year of the war.
The "Johnnies" with their threadbare clothing
and scant rations suffered everything during the
cold winter of '64-5. Of tea and coffee they had
none except in their hospitals. The only thing
147
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they had a superfluity of was tobacco, and this they were ready to swap for coffee or anything to eat.
In front of our corps was a strip of woods where the blue and the gray used to meet on friendly terms, cut wood, swap coffee, tobacco, papers, stories, etc.
The reader of this who is of the generation since the war will hardly believe, I presume, that men of the two armies, who had fought each other so hard for more than three years, could meet be- tween the lines without displaying any animosity toward each other, but such occurrences were not rare.
I recall a story about how a "Johnnie" helped a "Yank" carry his supply of wood into the Union lines. The boys were engaged in cooking and when the rebel sniffed the pleasant aroma of Uncle Sam's old Government Java and other things that were not being furnished by the C. S. A. commis- sary department, he said: "I'm dog-goned if it don't seem right smart comfortable here with you'uns and now that I'm here I guess I'll stay !"
Considering the great privations that they suf- fered, and the hopelessness of the struggle it is a great wonder that the desertions from their side were not more frequent than they were.
A BOX FROM HOME.
If any of you ever have a father, son or brother 148
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in far distant parts, don't forget to send him an occasional box of good things from the old home. He may have an abundance, but even then he will appreciate the loving remembrances ; but if he is undergoing the hardsliips and privations of a sol- dier's life it will touch his heart more than any other act of your life.
Two of our mess were remembered with a boun- teous box of good things the Christmas we were in the trenches before Petersburg. Talk about your banquets ! Your Delmonico spreads ; your nine-course dinner ! They cannot compare with that Christmas feast of home made mince pies, fruit cake, plum pudding, old fashioned twisted doughnuts, raspberry jam and other good things from home.
And even those who were without mother or sis- ter at home received througji the Sanitary or Christian commissions many evidences that their devotion to their country's cause was lovingly re- membered by the patriotic women of the North.
Those were stirring days, and even the little children worked for the soldiers. Their little hands were busy rolling bandages, knitting and helping the various "Aid societies."
Among my wartime keepsakes is the photograph of a little Pennsylvania girl, 10 years old. It came to me in a "Soldier's Companion" containing needles, thread, buttons and other articles useful to a soldier. The child had made it and tucked a 149
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dainty little note inside with her picture, request- ing the recipient to write to her, which I did from the front of Petersburg and received a very beauti- ful letter in reply.
WHERE BOARD WAS HIGH.
I have in my possession a portion of an old copy of the "Macon Confederate," which was obtained on the picket line one day, in which it is stated that, "board at our hotels is $30 per day, which includes three meals and a room."
"If a man is single and wishes to reside here he can obtain board at a private house for $150 to $200 per month."
"A family can rent a small house, with a small yard and garden for, from $1,500 to $2,500, ac- cording to location."
"By close economy, subsistence and clothing for one year can be purchased at the market for a fam- ily, say of five, for $5,000, so the whole expense will be about $8,000, during the 12 months."
"retribution."
Another item tells of the presentation of a beau- tiful sword to Gen. John McCausland of the con- federate army.
"The blade is of the best material, and the scab- bard beautifully mounted and richly embossed.
On the blade is inscribed : The citizens of Lynch- burg to Gen. John McCausland, June 18, 1864: 150
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Embossed on the scabbard is a chalice, and above the word "Retribution," symboHzing the destruc- tion of Chambersburg by fire which was putting down the poisoned chalice to Yankee lips for the atrocities committed by them in the valley. Be- low appears the coat of arms of Virginia, and in another place is seen the coat of arms of the ancient Roman Empire."
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CHAPTER XV.
LAST STRUGGLE AND DEFEAT OF THE LOST CAUSE.
e
RANT'S and Lee's forces occupied in- trenchments more than 30 miles in lergth reaching from Richmond around to the left of Petersburg. The effec- tive soldiers of Grant's army were about 125,- 000, including the Army of the James, while Lee's forces numbered about one-half, but they were veterans, every man of them, for on the southern side there was no expiration of service.
The confederacy was in sore straights. The strenuous campaign of 1864 had put every man in- to Lee's army that it was possible to get without robbing the cradle and the graA^e. The losses the confederates suffered that year could not be made good while the North sent Grant a fresh man to take the place of every one put out of action.
Sherman had marched his army through Georgia, devastating the country, thence up the Atlantic coast, and was, in March, 1864, in North Carolina, only about 150 miles south of Peters- burg. Gen. Thomas had cleaned out Hood's army, and fighting Phil Sheridan had laid waste to the Shenandoah valley and driven the rebels from out
152
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its borders. And then the policy adopted by the north of the non-interchange of prisoners — a pol- icy which, though eflPective against the enemy caused thousands of brave men to die slowly by starvation in the prisons of the South — kept out of the Confederate ranks men enough to make two armies like Lee's. The Union forces were well fed and warmly clothed during the winter of '64-5, while the men in the southern ranks were in rags and on scant rations. There was no hope for the South unless Lee could extricate his army from the intrenchments at Richmond and Petersburg and join his forces with Gen. Johnston's army and transfer operations farther south.
Gen. Grant learned of Lee's intentions and forced the fighting before his plans could be put into execution.
The movement commenced March 29. "Phil" Sheridan and his force of cavalry was sent around Lee's right with the 5th and 2d corps following.
The 6th and 9th corps of the Army of the Po- tomac, with some troops from Butler's army, were to hold the lines at Petersburg.
The writer's regiment was then, as in the pre- vious year's campaign, with Grant, attached to Hancock's 2d corps, but that superb commander was no longer its leader, having been called to Washington to organize a veteran corps and Gen. Andrew A. Humphreys, who had long 153
Drum Taps in Dixie.
been chief of staff of the Army of the Potomac, had taken his place. He was an able commander but could never inspire his troops with the enthu- siasm of Hancock, yet it is understood he was rated by military critics as the most skillful officer of the civil war.
The weather had been good for several days, but the day the troops began to move a rain set in and it just poured, and as the country was flat and swampy, with the soil a mixture of clay and sand, the roads soon became nearly knee deep with a stiff batter, making it extremely difficult for the men to march, and in places the roads had to be corduroyed to make it possible for the artillery to proceed. The boys good-naturedly made the best of it, and if a staff officer rode by would inquire if the pontoons and gunboats were coming.
NOTES FROM AN OLD DIARY.
On March 29 our regiment struck tents at camp near Patrick's Station and marched three or four miles, forming a junction with Sheridan's cavalry, halted near Hatcher's Run and threw up breast- works; left them late in the day and marched through a dense woods ; halted on the other side and threw up more works ; advanced at daybreak the morning of the 30th; heard musketry firing about 9 ; halted and built breastworks again.
About 1 p. m. the enemy opened on us with artil- 154
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lery, throwing both soHd shot and shell; several wounded.
Was routed out before 5 the next morning and made a forced march to reach the 5th corps ; halted at dusk and threw up intrenchments. It was truly marvelous to see how quickly troops would throw up formidable earthworks with nothing to work with except bayonets, tin cups and plates and an occasional frying pan, and men did it willingly, too, for although they were so tired they could hardly march farther they knew there was no safety for an army unless they were behind in- trenchments.
Heavy firing that night on both flanks ; next morning had a lively skirmish about 4 ; several wounded.
April 2, continued the advance; crossed the South Side railroad; heavy skirmishing on the ad- vance lines ; built intrenchments near the railroad.
Although there was constant skirmishing by the troops on the flanks, there was no serious conflict until the 31st, when Sheridan encountered Fitz- hugh Lee's cavalry and "Fighting Phil" is reported to have said he had "one of the liveliest times of his life."
The same day the confederates delivered one of their furious sallies against Gen. Warren's 5th corps out on the White Oak road, hurling back in disorder the divisions of Gens. Ayers and Craw- ford, but Griffin's division stood firm and Gen. 155
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Miles' division of the 2d corps, with which our regi- ment was serving, went to their support and de- livered a counter charge on the right flank, causing the enemy to retire to his intrenchments, which were so strong and stubbornly defended that repeated attempts to dislodge them failed.
In the meantime Lee sent Gen. Pickett, who so gallantly led the charge at Gettysburg, along the White Oak road to Five Forks, where he routed a division of infantry and some of Sheridan's cav- alry.
FIVE FORKS.
The next day, April 1, the 5th corps and Sheri- dan's cavalry moved on the enemy at Five Forks. Gen. Sheridan was everywhere on his powerful, coal black charger. It is said he even swore a little as he told the brigade commanders that "This battle has got to be fought on the double quick." When the battle line was forming he is said to have ridden among the men and encouraged them with such remarks as, "We've got the twist on 'em, boys ; there won't be a grease spot left when we get through.
At a critical moment when some of the troops wavered because of the hail-storm of bullets, Sheri- dan grasped his battle flag from the man who carried it and rod-e forward, urging his men to close up and stand firm. Such conduct inspired the soldiers to a renewed eff'ort, and they charged the enemy and won a splendid victory. 156
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Gen. Grant celebrated Sheridan's victory by opening fire on the city of Petersburg with over 100 cannon, and the troops who held the lines in front of the city assaulted the works and pressed back the Confederates, whose only hope was to get safely away from the city and join Lee's army in its race for life. This was accomplished during the night of the 2d, and the departure of the Con- federate troops was effected so quietly that the Union pickets knew not that the enemy were mov- ing till daylight revealed the fact that they had folded their tents and slid away in the night and were miles distant when the Union forces proudly entered the city that had been the bone of con- tention between the two great armies from June, 1864, to April, 1865.
It was well understood that Lee's objective point was Lynchburg or Danville, and it was only by ceaselessly marching and hammering away at their weakening lines that Leie's plans to unite his forces with Gen. Johnston's were foiled. Phil Sheridan, aided by Gens. Custer, Crook and Merritt, was just the right man for the job, and his unceasing ardor and energy kept things humming and was what contributed largely to the success of the campaign. The only blot on his escutcheon was his ungenerous treatment of Gen. Warren, after Five Forks, which caused Warren's removal from his command, and the life of one of the bravest and most accomplished officers of the Army of the 157
Drum Taps in Dixie.
Potomac was embittered and he died a few years after the war of a broken heart.
His old comrades, although admiiiing Sheri- dan's splendid qualities, could never quite forgive his treatment of so gallant an officer and gentle- man.
The pursuit of Lee was resumed on the 3d. Gen. Sheridan with his cavalry and the 5th corps moved westerly, keeping near the Appomattox river, where they could keep in touch with Lee's army. Gen. Meade with the 2d and 6 th corps followed Sheridan with the same object in view. Gen. Ord, with the 24th corps, Gen. Birney's colored troops and the 9th corps were to move parallel with the South Side railroad.
No fighting of importance occurred for two or three days after Five Forks, but we did some right smart marching.
The evening of April 5, we were preparing to go into camp for the night when the sound of artillery put us in motion again, and we raced it until midnight. The morning of the 6th, Gen. Meade concluded that Lee's troops had been slip- ping around to his left during the night; so he sent the 6th corps out on the Painesville road and we of the 2d by the Deatonville pike.
Couriers had brought word that the enemy was moving in two columns, one under the command of Gen. James Longstreet, and the other under Gen. John B. Gordon.
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Recently, when tlie deatli of the two above- named generals occurred so closely together, it seemed almost a suggestion of fatality that these two great leaders who fought all through the war and were Lee's two arms in the last desperate effort for the "Lost Cause" should have outlived all of the other great generals of the confederacy and then crossed over the river shoulder to shoul- der, as it were, to rejoin Lee, Jackson and other beloved comrades.
THE sailor's creek FIGHT.
After going four or five miles, the morning of the 6th, we came out on a ridge, in a clearing, and in the distance could be seen a loner column of rebs, moving in almost an opposite direction.
Our division had the right of line, so we could see them very clearly. The boys began to throw their caps in the air and let off a few yells, when word was passed along the line to keep quiet and we obliqued to one side and got out of sight be- hind the crest of the ridge.
Gen. Miles ordered up some batteries, and they taking position in our front, unlimbered and opened fire on the "Johnnies," who were crossing a large open field, and there was a column of about a mile long to be seen.
INIy blood runs quicker as the memory of that day comes back to me with its thrilling incidents.
I see the artillery galloping into position and I 159
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recall the excitement when the first shots were fired and we watched the shells as they dropped among the confederates.
The artillerymen got the range the first time, and there was some right smart "gittin' away" to the woods, which were in every direction, and the way those greybacks broke for a shelter was a caution, and our men couldn't help but give them a cheer.
It was understood that Lee had issued orders to all of the division and corps commanders to do as little fighting as possible. The program seemed to be to get away, but when they were cor- nered they fought with the desperation of men who are being hunted down.
A RUNNING FIGHT.
Our troops got orders to "go for 'em," and it was a running fight until night, the race extend- ing over fifteen miles of country.
They were anxious to save some wagon trains that had supplies for Lee's army. All day they fought on the