After the death of Col. Chatfield, Redfield Duryee was appointed
Colonel of the Sixth, rising from Adjutant to that position at a
single step. He had been North on recruiting service for eighteen
months previous to his appointment, but after securing that position
he hastened to join the regiment in the field. The appointment was not
received very pleasantly by the officers of the Sixth, nor by the
privates, who expressed much dissatisfaction at his appointment. Those
who had been with the regiment through thick and thin and had borne
the brunt of the battles, were more justly entitled to promotion to
that position than Redfield Duryee, who had been home for half of his
term of enlistment. But merit is not always justly rewarded, and the
appointment had to be endured, although it was not according to our
taste. Our new colonel enjoined upon the regiment severe drills and
guard duties, while it was tasked severely and laboriously with
fatigue duty every day and often far into the night. We found it
difficult to endure the loss of Col. Chatfield. Few men, living in the
midst of such temptations as army life afforded, could resist so
practically the attractions that led so many good men astray; yet he
stood as a beacon light, and his counsel and judgment were often
sought by those who were his superiors in rank. Had Col. Chatfield
lived, the entire regiment would no doubt have re-enlisted; but as the
command passed into other hands, the number did not exceed 200 who
consented to remain till the close of the war. Lieut. Col. Speidel and
Capt. Leach resigned their commissions and left the regiment in
August, 1863. Ill health was the cause of their resignations.
Col. Speidel never fully recovered from the wound received at
Pocotaligo, and the regiment was loth to part with him, as he endeared
himself to the boys by his soldierly bearing and commanding ways. He
was a brave officer and never flinched on the field, but always
inspired the men with true courage and patriotism.
October 20th, five companies of the Sixth went on provost guard duty,
relieving the Eighth Maine. We occupied the provost building and had
charge of a large number of rebel prisoners, as well as others from
Union regiments, who had been guilty of some crime known to military
law. Among the rebel prisoners was a Captain Monroe whom the Sixth
captured, with others, on Morris Island. He was son of the Mayor of
Charleston, and a most bitter and uncompromising rebel. He evinced no
desire to shake hands over the “bloody chasm,” but, on the contrary,
was bitterly opposed to the Union and to the hireling soldiers
employed by Lincoln. He raved and stormed in the guard house like a
mad bull, and swore he would fight us to the bitter end whenever he
should be exchanged or released. He was taken to some Northern prison
with about 100 other prisoners, a guard from the Sixth accompanying
them.
Volunteering having partially subsided in the State, and as the
government was in need of more troops, drafting commenced in other
States as well as in Connecticut. The Sixth received about 200 men in
October; some were conscripts and others drafted men, as but few
volunteered for the service. Their advent was not hailed with much
pleasure or satisfaction by the old regiment, as they claimed that
“forced” men would not fight and could not be trusted in case of an
emergency. Some were vile roughs and were frequently in the guard
house; while others manifested a disposition to do their duty, and did
make very good soldiers. Three of the substitutes deserted from the
regiment while on picket, but were captured and placed in close
confinement at the provost guard house. While there they succeeded in
getting away twice; the first time they were found in Ossanabaw Sound
and were returned to the post, where they were tried for desertion
before a court martial, of which Capt. Tracy of the Sixth was
president, found guilty and sentenced to be shot to death by musketry.
They were then chained hand and foot to a post inside of the provost
quarters; and, notwithstanding these precautions, together with a
strong guard, they succeeded in getting away again. They took a boat
near the pier and made off; but while in Warsaw sound near the shore,
their boat grounded and they were captured by a picket boat from the
gunboat Patapsco. They were very bold, ingenious men, and their skill
and perseverance might have won them honor if rightly applied. The
culprits were Germans by birth: privates Henry Schumaker, of Co. “C,”
Henry Stark, of Co. “E,” and Gustav Hoofan, of Co. “B.”
In the case of the latter an error was discovered in writing his name,
the name Hoofan having been written Hoffman by the Judge Advocate.
Col. Duryee wishing to be merciful to the full extent consistent with
duty, availed himself of this technical error and protested against
his execution. This protest was allowed, and he was saved from death
and ordered to return to duty with his regiment. The man was more than
pleased at this announcement, but the Judge Advocate, a lieutenant of
the Eighty-fifth Pennsylvania regiment, was severely censured in
general orders for his inexcusable carelessness and fatal error.
The following order was issued to the troops for the execution of the
deserters:
GENERAL ORDERS, NO. 7.
HEADQUARTERS HILTON HEAD, }
Hilton Head, S. C., April 16, 1864.}
In obedience to General Orders No. 50, Department of
the South, Hilton Head, S. C., April 15, 1864, the
sentence of private Henry Schumaker, of Co. “C,” and
private Henry Stark, Co. “E,” Sixth regiment
Connecticut Volunteers, who were tried before a court
martial assembled at Hilton Head, S. C., March 4, 1864,
for the crime of desertion, and were sentenced to be
shot to death with musketry, will be carried into
execution at this Post on Sunday the 17th day of April,
1864, at three o’clock P. M., on the field beyond the
causeway and in the presence of all the troops of this
command. All fatigue work within the line of the
entrenchments will be suspended on that day during the
afternoon, and every officer and man not upon the sick
list or upon other duty, will be present. The firing
party will be furnished by the Sixth Connecticut
Volunteers. Capt. E. S. Babcock, 9th U. S. C. T.,
Provost Marshal, will make the necessary arrangements
for the execution. The several regiments and
detachments comprising the command will report at two
o’clock P. M. to Lieut. Woodruff, A. A. D. C., who will
be stationed there to direct them to their positions.
By order of Col. REDFIELD DURYEE,
WALTER FITCH,
1st Lieut. 6th Conn. Vols., Post Adj.
Official:
D. A. WOODRUFF,
1st Lieut. 6th Conn. Vols., A. A. D. C.
As soon as the time had been fixed for their execution they were
visited by the Provost Marshal, who informed them of their fate and
advised them to prepare for death. They seemed stolid and indifferent
at first, but upon reflection they gave way to their feelings and
desired to have a priest sent to them (they were both Roman
Catholics), and Rev. Mr. Hasson, a Catholic priest who was in the
department, was sent for and ministered to them. It was for a long
time difficult to convince them that their case was hopeless, but Mr.
Hasson’s arguments finally forced conviction, and, after hearing their
confession twice, he performed all the rites of the Church that were
practicable. The prisoners were taken from their cells at about two
o’clock, placed in army wagons and seated on the coffins in which they
were to be buried. The column was formed as follows:
Capt. E. S. Babcock, Provost Marshal, mounted.
Capt. J. P. King, Asst. Provost Marshal, mounted.
Drum Corps in two ranks.
Firing Party of 24 men detailed from 6th Conn.
The Prisoners in wagon seated on their coffins.
Ambulance containing Rev. Mr. Hasson, and Chaplain
Woodruff, of the 6th Conn.; Rev. Mr. Taylor of the
Christian Commission; the Surgeon of the Provost guard
house, and the Surgeon of the 6th Connecticut.
The funeral escort, consisting of a corporal and eight men, marched to
funeral music, with arms reversed. Slowly the procession proceeded to
the appointed place; the square was formed on three sides, and the
victims were driven around once that all might see them and avoid
their fate. They maintained a calm demeanor to all, except as they
passed our regiment they took off their caps several times to their
old comrades. On reaching the end of the square they were assisted to
alight from the wagons, the coffins were placed on the ground, the
culprits sitting down upon them while the Provost Marshal read the
charges, findings and sentence. After a short prayer by the priest
they were blindfolded and their hands tied behind them and made to
kneel upon their coffins, facing the center of the square. The firing
party came up and were halted at six paces distant, when, at a signal
from Capt. Babcock, they fired and the victims fell upon their
coffins. Schumaker was pierced with nine bullets and Stark with eight.
They lay just as they had fallen till the whole command marched past
them on the way to camp, when they were put into the coffins and
buried.
On the 20th of April, Capt. Lewis C. Allen, Jr., died of disease. He
was formerly a member of a militia company in Georgia, and afterwards
removing to New Haven, was drill officer of the New Haven Blues. He
went out as 1st Lieut. in Capt. Root’s company in the Third three
months troops, and later as captain of the “Brewster Rifles,” Co. “F,”
of the Sixth regiment. He participated in all the battles of the
regiment, and was looked upon as a brave and efficient officer by all
the regiment and was much esteemed by his own company for his uniform
courtesy and gentlemanly bearing.
Lieut. Col. Klein, with the re-enlisting veterans of the regiment,
were given a thirty days furlough after re-enlisting; they sailed for
the North and were received in New Haven with demonstrations of
respect, escorted to Music Hall, where Mayor Tyler addressed a welcome
to the returning soldiers, after which they sat down to a banquet
provided for them.
The regiment remained at Hilton Head through the fall and winter
months of ’63 and ’64, engaging in an occasional scout after the
Johnnies, drilling and doing fatigue duty in various ways. If a
battery was to be built or earthworks thrown up, the Sixth was sure to
have a hand in it. Many of our officers having resigned and our ranks
being depleted by disease, we were finally ordered, with our corps, to
join Butler on the James River, and we bade adieu to South Carolina on
the 27th of April, 1864, and sailed for our new scene of labor and
strife. We arrived at Hampton Roads after due time and landed at
Gloucester Point, opposite Yorktown. Here we found large numbers of
troops encamped in very close proximity to each other, and indications
pointed to a general advance along the line. The redoubtable Ben seemed
in his element and was busy from morning till far into the night,
making the necessary preparations for the conflict. Our corps (the
10th), and the 18th corps, under Gen. W. F. Smith, were ordered to
pack up all the surplus clothing belonging to the officers and men,
and the cooks were divested of all their cooking utensils except two
camp kettles. Large quantities of clothes and goods were put in boxes
and barrels and shipped to Norfolk, where they were to be stored; but,
unfortunately, the steamer containing the goods of the Sixth sprung a
leak and sank, the crew barely escaping with their lives. Butler
ordered the command to go as light as possible in regard to clothing
and effects, and the rations were cut down to such extent that we were
to be deprived of many articles that were palatable to a soldier.
Beef, beans and potatoes were excluded from our bill of fare, and
bacon and salt pork were to be more freely used. Half rations of soap
and full rations of whiskey and quinine were among the items which
were considered necessary for our comfort, and lastly, two pairs of
Uncle Sam’s brogans were ordered for each man, fearing, perhaps, that
the sacred mud of Virginia might draw off one pair while experiencing
a march after a gentle fall of dew.
May 4th, the whole command embarked at Gloucester Point and ascended
the James. The infantry, artillery and cavalry numbered about 25,000
men, all told. The gunboats went up the river a day earlier than the
transports. The scenery along the banks of the James was indeed
beautiful; the corn and cotton crops were growing splendidly; large
fields in cultivation met the eye on every hand, and everything
clearly indicated that Johnny Reb did not expect us quite so soon. The
steamers were crowded with the troops, and the bunting streaming from
the masts and rigging was a pleasing sight to all beholders. If the
enemy saw this advance of Butler’s army coming they could not but
dread the results.
The 6th of May the entire force landed at Bermuda Hundred and pushed
inland. The day was extremely warm and the extra pair of brogans that
“Bennie” made us take were soon thrown off, as well as blankets and
knapsacks,--anything to lighten our load. The march through the woods
and fields was strewed with these articles, but none could tell
whether they would ever be needed again, for we wist not what was
before us. We marched about eight miles and halted for the night in a
piece of pine woods, where we threw up a rude entrenchment to cover us
against a sudden attack. The night passed with no general alarm,
although the advance pickets skirmished with the enemy. We were up
betimes in the morning and on the move, passing many swamps and deep
morasses, which made progress slow. A large detachment were felling
trees to make passage for the artillery through the woods and swamps.
On the 9th of May our division moved on to the Petersburg & Richmond
R. R., at Chester station, where we cut the telegraph wires and tore
up the track, burning the ties and poles. Our brigade pried up the
rails as we stood close together, and tumbled them down a steep bank.
Over a half mile of track was thus disposed of at a time. We destroyed
about three miles of the track at this time and guarded the turnpike
and all approaches, while the 18th army corps engaged the rebels near
Richmond, but with little success, except to find their position. The
next day Gen. D. H. Hill’s corps advanced from Richmond and our forces
engaged them all along the line. After a sharp contest which continued
over two hours, the rebels withdrew from the field and we retired a
short distance to the rear. The casualties of the Sixth were one
killed (Capt. Jay P. Wilcox), twenty wounded and four missing.
Captain Wilcox left Waterbury as a private soldier in the Sixth, but
was soon promoted to the rank of corporal and thence passed rapidly to
that of captain. As an officer, Capt. Wilcox gained the honor and
respect of all under his command. Resolute, bold and fearless, he
proved an honor to the cause, and the Union lost one of its noblest
defenders.
On the 14th of May the Sixth was ordered, with the rest of the corps,
to advance to Proctor’s Creek, near Drury’s Bluff, at which place we
arrived after little skirmishing. We halted near the edge of a piece
of woods, expecting to remain but a short time; but Gen. Butler
ordered the Quartermasters to bring up all camp equipage and establish
our camps there before commencing operations still farther in advance.
We knew, however, that we could not advance very much farther except
by bringing on a general engagement, as the enemy were strongly
entrenched a short distance from us, as we could see them working on
their batteries every day. The evening of the 15th the Sixth occupied
the extreme front at the center of the line, on picket. The night
passed with but little firing on either side. Just before daylight,
while a thick fog prevailed, the rebels massed their forces and made a
very determined dash in our front, charging upon us furiously,
shouting with that peculiar yell so characteristic of the Johnnies. We
knew they outnumbered us, and to stand alone as a picket line would be
of no avail; yet we emptied our rifles at them several times and fell
slowly back upon the reserve. They proved too strong for our corps and
it gave way gradually. We did not “retreat,” but “changed front to the
rear,” and contested every foot of ground; but the enemy knowing our
strength, forced us back slowly but surely. The turnpike being the
safest ground to pass over, was besieged by the troops; ambulances
carrying the wounded, negro men and women, rebel prisoners and Union
soldiers filled the roadway, while heads of staff were busy issuing
orders to the different regiments to form here and there to check the
rebel advance. One regiment would file in a piece of woods; another
made a stand in a ravine, while our batteries limbered up to get a
better position and the whole force resisted bravely the attack. We
were forced back about six miles, and, as night came on, the battle
ended.
The loss on our side was much larger than that of the rebels. The
Sixth suffered severely, considering the numbers engaged: seven killed
and fifty-three wounded. Among the wounded were Lieut. Col. Meeker,
Captains Charles H. Nichols and John N. Tracy, Lieutenants Bennett S.
Lewis, Charles J. Buckbee and Norman Provost. Capt. Horatio D. Eaton,
of Hartford, was killed while encouraging his men forward. He served
through the three months campaign and afterwards went out as
lieutenant of the Sixth. He was greatly beloved at home by a large
circle of friends, and possessed the esteem of the regiment. Capt.
Biebel and twenty others were captured by the enemy.
The day after this battle the men of the Sixth who had re-enlisted
came back from their furlough and reported for duty, but found our
position rather warmer than they anticipated,--quite unlike the scenes
they had just left at the North. We threw up entrenchments every
night, working till morning dawned, and the Johnnies were unceasing in
their efforts to dislodge us, many of the men being wounded while at
work. The picket line was relieved always at night, and we were
invariably shelled while going on that duty. After being posted on the
lines things generally quieted down, as the distance between the rebel
and Union pickets was often less than three rods. Conversation was
kept up and exchanges of newspapers frequently took place, as well as
the usual exchange of “terbacker” for coffee.
The old Sixth was again engaged on the 20th of May with the enemy; the
Johnnies fought stubbornly and seemed determined on driving us back.
We held our ground, but made no advance. After about four hours they
were repulsed and fell back. Lieut. Bradley and two privates were
mortally wounded, and died soon after being brought into camp.
Thirty-two of the regiment were wounded and one missing. Thus the
ranks of the Sixth were constantly reduced by these frequent
skirmishes, and duty fell pretty severe upon those who were able to
perform it. Scarcely an hour passed, day or night, without being
shelled by the enemy, and rest seemed out of the question. The pale
faces and haggard looks of the men told too plainly what they endured.
Yet few reproached the cause in which they were engaged. There is very
little poetry and a good deal of hard work in an active campaign.
Col. Redfield Duryee resigned his commission on the 27th of May, as
failing health, it is said, incapacitated him for active service in
the field. The captain of the 1st Connecticut Battery, Alfred P.
Rockwell, was chosen to fill the place. Col. Rockwell was brave and
fearless, and held in esteem by the members of the Sixth.
The 2nd of June the enemy again tried to force our lines and did drive
back some portion of the 3d New Hampshire, but they were repulsed and
the line regained. The artillery duel on both sides waged hot for a
few hours, and it was difficult to determine which would come out best
in the end. One rebel colonel was killed and brought within our lines,
and a lieutenant and twenty-six men deserted to us, being, as they
said, tired of the war. The loss to the Sixth was only three wounded.
Part of the command, including the Sixth, were sent across the
Appomatox River on the 9th of June, to engage the enemy at a certain
point, while the cavalry destroyed a railroad. We came upon the
outposts of the enemy, drove them in, were subjected to a severe
shelling, but with slight loss on our side. The cavalry, it was said,
accomplished its object, and the next day found us back to our old
line of works. One morning the videttes reported that the enemy had
evacuated their line of rifle pits on our front, and the orders were
issued for our corps to advance and make a reconnoissance, which we
did. Finding their line deserted, we pushed forward and skirmished
with them, they falling back all the while evidently to get us into an
ambuscade. We fell back to the line evacuated by the rebels and
awaited results. The sharpshooters annoyed us exceedingly all day,
being posted in the trees, and their clothing was so near the color of
the bark of the trees that it was difficult to discover their
position. The enemy gave us a vigorous shelling early in the
afternoon; and as that nearly always preceded an advance, the whole
line awaited anxiously the result. The Johnnies were soon discovered
slowly approaching through the woods directly in front of the Sixth.
They rushed forward with a yell, but did not find us unprepared to
meet them. The bullets flew lively for a time, and the rebels swayed
backward, but soon rallied and rushed forward in large numbers,
forcing back the Union lines and regaining their rifle pits. Their
numbers must have been very much larger than ours, and they evidently
expected we would take their pits when they fell back, and no doubt
had a plan laid to gobble us all up; but our commander displayed that
wisdom requisite for the occasion. We retired, however, with
considerable loss. The Sixth lost in this engagement 5 killed, 16
wounded and 18 missing. Capt. Nichols was captured by the enemy.
The weather was excessively warm and no exertion was required to
produce perspiration. The thermometer on June 22d rose to 103 degrees
in the shade. We were apprised of the fact that our worthy President,
Abraham Lincoln, was near us, and all that were not engaged on duty
were ordered to appear near the regimental quarters and render a
proper salute. He came on horseback, attended by Gen. Butler and
staff. The troops greeted him pleasantly and gave hearty cheers along
the whole line. The President looked careworn and troubled.
Undoubtedly the trials through which the nation was passing had much
to do with his depression of spirits.
The next day we received some rebel papers which had an article
headed, “What mean those cheers?” In allusion to the cheers which they
distinctly heard, they inferred that we had received some good news of
a recent Union victory; but as no such information had come to them
through their sources, they finally came to the conclusion that it
must be some scheme made known to the troops from the fertile brain of
that “beefy, bloated Massachusetts Yankee,” as they called Gen.
Butler.
Sheridan’s cavalry were at the “White House,” and were ordered to join
Grant at the rear of Petersburg on the 25th of June. Some of our
division were sent over the Appomatox to cover his retreat. The Sixth
Connecticut and Third New Hampshire regiments formed a part of the
force employed for that purpose, which returned to camp after their
mission was accomplished. Sergt. Andrew Grogan, of Co. “I,” who had
been but recently promoted to 2d Lieutenant, went on the picket line
on the evening of June 29, in charge of the pickets of the Sixth. The
rebels fired upon the line, wounding Lieut. Grogan in the thigh. He
was carried to camp and the surgeons found it necessary to amputate
the limb to save his life. The operation was performed successfully
and he fully recovered. Lieut. Grogan was exemplary in his habits and
was a consistent Christian; respected and loved by the regiment, and
it was with sorrow that we were obliged to part with his services. It
will be remembered that Lieut. Grogan bore Col. Chatfield from Fort
Wagner after the Colonel was twice wounded in that memorable assault
on the night of July 18th.
Gen. Butler issued an order calling for volunteers for fatigue duty
upon his famous Dutch Gap Canal, offering eight cents an hour extra
pay and two rations of whisky each day. The work was very laborious,
the enemy keeping a continuous fire upon the working parties, which
together with the excessive heat, rendered the service anything but
desirable; yet many availed themselves of the offer. The pickets were
strengthened and the reserve made secure to prevent any sudden dash
upon the working parties; while our gunboats in the James rendered
effective service in dispersing these advances. The Johnnies were
pretty sure to retire if the gunboats sent their compliments. Some of
the captured rebels affirmed that they could stand any ordinary
shelling, but when our navy sent a whole “blacksmith shop, with forge
and bellows complete,” they thought it was time to “change front to
the rear.”
The report that Gen. A. P. Hill, of the rebel army, was advancing
south of Richmond in the direction of Petersburg, aroused our General
commanding, and Gen. Smith’s corps was ordered on the move. The Sixth
was accordingly ordered to cook up the usual three days rations. We
left the front shortly after midnight on the morning of the 14th of
August, and at about 5 o’clock Sunday morning we crossed the James
River on the pontoons, drove in the advance pickets and rapidly pushed
forward, skirmishing with the enemy at different points. We soon heard
the rebel yell, and the enemy came pouring upon us with all their
fury. Our regiment, divested of knapsacks, immediately charged upon
them and captured two lines of rebel earthworks, driving the enemy
before us at a place called Strawberry Plains, near Malvern Hill. We
skirmished with the enemy all day, and when night came on our division
occupied Hancock’s old works near the hill, and gladly availed
ourselves of a chance to lay down, but not to sleep, as that would
have been a luxury not to be entertained. Owing to the excessive heat
of the day, many fell from the ranks completely exhausted. So severe
had been our campaign in Virginia, in its marches and fatigue duty,
that the Sixth mustered but few men for duty. We were continually on
the move; and often, in our midnight marches, some would fall asleep
while in the ranks, and as soon as the order was given to halt and
rest, the entire regiment would fall down where it stood, and sleep
during the few moments allotted for rest.
The Sixth moved again on the 15th of August and fought the battle
known as Deep Run. We were posted in the woods with Hawley’s brigade,
looking for the position of the enemy; but the woods were so dense
that we could scarcely stand in line. The rebel earthworks were in our
front, but their exact position or strength was unknown to the
brigade. We fixed bayonets and cocked our rifles preparatory to an
advance and charge. Gen. Terry informed us in whispers, as near as he
could, the location of the enemy, and directed us to creep through the
underbrush till we came to a certain tree, and then charge. The word
“forward” was given and the brigade moved through the woods as fast as
the tangled underbrush would permit. The enemy discovered our advance
ere we had proceeded far, and with a loud yell they opened fire from
howitzers and musketry. The latter was terrific, and the bullets
skipped through the leaves of the trees in terrible volleys. In
passing through the woods we came to an opening which was made by the
trees being felled and brush cleared away. About twenty rods in our
front ranged a strong earthwork, behind which the rebels were strongly
posted, and in the front was a huge abatis almost defying any
approach. On went our brigade with a cheer, tumbling through the
abatis and picking our way as best we could amid a furious storm of
bullets; but the desperate rebels held their works till they saw us
clear of the abatis and knew that we were coming for them, when they
turned and fled; but we were too quick for some of them. Springing
upon them in their pits we had a hand to hand combat, till they saw it
was useless to hold out longer and a few surrendered, while the main
body skedaddled through a corn field into a piece of woods. Beyond
this point we did not proceed, as a deep ravine skirted the edge of
the field, and beyond this the enemy were massing their scattered
forces preparatory to regaining what they had lost.
With our force engaged and with the rebel force in front, it was
deemed imprudent to remain on the captured ground and we fell back
slowly, harrassed by the rebel sharpshooters. Once they charged upon
our line, forcing us back with greater speed than we cared to travel
on that hot day; and, although we did not run, we executed “some
pretty tall walking.” A second dash made upon us we repelled with a
few bullets, which prevented any further trouble from them. They
recaptured their lost works and, doubtless, considered themselves the
victors. Our captures amounted to about 200 prisoners and two stands
of colors. The Sixth lost in this action five killed, sixty-nine
wounded and eleven missing. Among the wounded were Captains Bennett S.
Lewis, John Slottlar and Dwight A. Woodruff (severely), and
Lieutenants John Waters, Joseph Miller and George Bellows. Capt.
Woodruff suffered the amputation of his arm and endured severe pain
for a few weeks, till released by death. He entered the army as a
private and was steadily promoted for good conduct. He was brave and
faithful, beloved by the regiment, and his untimely death was
regretted by all. The color guard of the Sixth was worsted in this
engagement, the sergeant with two corporals were wounded, and one was
overcome by the heat. The remaining corporal, Edward S. Downs, seized
the flag and brought it off the field in safety.
The second day after this engagement the rebels, emboldened by the
fact of the Union lines not being advanced, made a simultaneous attack
all along our lines, and drove in our pickets, but were repulsed after
a sharp skirmish, and they were glad enough to retire. The corps fell
back about two miles at night to a former position occupied by us, and
at seven o’clock orders came for us to march again. It had been
raining quite hard, and that Virginia mud was decidedly uncomfortable
to march in. The artillery often got stuck in the mud and the command
was necessarily delayed. After a wearisome march of seven hours we
crossed the Appomatox river at Point of Rocks and resumed our march to
the Weldon R. R. near Ream’s Station, in the rear of Petersburg.
Here we were again posted at the front. The Sixth occupied one side of
the railroad track with the rebels on the other. Tents were out of the
question. When a regiment moves from one place to another and halts
for a season, to use a military term, “we pitch our tents;” but in
this Virginia campaign tents were obsolete, and the term now used was,
“we dug our holes.” Tents served to attract the enemy and draw their
fire, and it was very unsafe to sleep in one even if we could do so;
but in the holes in the ground we felt comparatively secure. It was
rather a ludicrous sight to a casual observer to find an army of men
burrowing in holes in the earth like so many woodchucks, and yet such
was the fact. The whole of Grant’s line, extending from the south of
Petersburg along the line of the Appomatox River down across Bermuda
Hundred to the James, the army, when not engaged, were inside the “rat
holes,” as the boys termed them. Some of these holes held a corporal’s
guard, while others only served for two or three. They were hastily
made, without any regard to architectural proportions, and yet not so
deep but that they could be quickly evacuated.
Shelling from the rebels and from our side was kept up day after day
and night after night for weeks, and when the tired soldier had a few
moments to sleep he quickly availed himself of it, and no amount of
shelling would disturb his slumbers; but let the clear notes of the
bugle sound through the air and he was quickly at his post. We knew
the bugle call meant work; either some advance was threatened, or the
line ordered to move to another quarter. It required but little time
to pack up our household goods, and we were not required to run after
drays to load them, but the clothes we wore were our bedding, and any
hole we found when night overtook us was our bed, with the sky for a
covering and with a consciousness that we were battling for the right,
made sleep attractive to the Union soldier.
Gen. Hawley’s brigade was ordered out on the morning of Sept. 3d to
witness the execution of a soldier of the 7th Connecticut by hanging.
The brigade formed three sides of a hollow square around the gallows
and saw the victim yield up his life at the end of a rope. He had some
real or fancied grudge against a man, and on the battle-field of
Olustee, Fla., he took the opportunity to murder him, thinking, no
doubt, the exciting scenes on the field would cover up his crime; but
he was detected, tried before a drum-head court martial, found guilty
and sentenced to death by hanging, and the day above mentioned the
sentence was carried out. Another scene witnessed by our regiment,
took place soon after, which was the act of drumming a soldier out of
camp for cowardice on the battle field. The soldier was a private of
Co. “I,” of the Sixth, who was convicted of cowardice by refusing to
fight, and skulked to the rear. His head was shaved and the word
“coward,” painted on a board, was put on his back, and he was marched
through the brigade, with the drum corps playing the Rogue’s March.
The Sixth remained in the trenches around Petersburg, indulging in
frequent skirmishing and entrenching themselves, occasionally holding
short confabs with the rebel pickets, getting their views on the war
question, till the 11th of September, 1864, when they were ordered a
short distance to the rear and drawn up in front of Gen. Terry’s
headquarters, where the non-re-enlisted men were mustered out of
service. Their term of three years had expired, and the rebels, as if
to give a parting salute, threw a shell into our midst which exploded,
doing no damage, however, as the word “cover” was given in earnest
this time. It was with pride and not a little satisfaction that the
boys relinquished their trusty rifles, which had been their constant
companions through many a hard fought conflict. Gen. Terry, in a
speech to them, said: “The State of Connecticut might well be proud of
the record of the Sixth.” He thanked us personally for our valor on
the field, and hoped that we would live many years to recite the
marches and battles on the field to the loved ones at home; and
expressed a wish that the conflict would soon terminate, that he might
also enjoy the blessings of civil life. Cheers were given with a will
for our brave commander, and many a silent prayer went up for his
welfare.
“Three days rations” were issued to the boys for the last time, and
they bade an affectionate adieu to the comrades who were to remain.
Many a tear glistened in the eyes of the old soldiers as the last
good-bye was said, and all expressed a wish that the war would soon be
over and they also be permitted to greet their friends at home. The
boys “changed front to the rear,” and took the cars to City Point, and
there embarked on the steamer United States. After a pleasant sail and
the usual delays, we reached New York early on the morning of Sept.
15, landing at the foot of Canal street, North River; marched down
Canal to Broadway, and down Broadway to the Battery, where a bountiful
collation was served to us by the “Sons of Connecticut” residing in
New York. After the repast was finished, they went on board the
steamer Nassau and sailed for New Haven, arriving there at about 7
o’clock in the evening. Here a splendid reception awaited the old
Sixth. Citizens and the military joined as an escort, and amid the
booming of cannon (with blank cartridges) and the fireworks along the
streets, the boys marched to the State House, where they were heartily
welcomed and invited to partake of a rich and tempting repast. Ample
justice was done to the viands, after which the boys separated for the
night. Their final muster out and discharge was consummated on the
17th of September, just three years from the day the regiment left the
State.