BY J. M. MARTIN.
On to Richmond Once More--Foragers Captured--General
McClellan Superseded by General Burnside--The March to the
Rappahannock--Battle of Fredericksburg.
The closing days of October found us again on the march, swinging down
the Virginia valley with the grand Army of the Potomac, fully recovered
and equipped for another measuring of strength with our wily foe, the
Army of Northern Virginia.
On November 12th, while we were encamped near Waterloo bridge, six men
of Company K, Corporal Theodore Barber, Privates William Murray, A. L.
Marsh, J. W. Hummer, Adam Wert and F. E. Hinman, were captured while
returning from a foraging expedition. When captured they had several
sheep they had gobbled. For some days it was rumored that they had been
taken by Mosby's guerrillas and hung, but after a short sojourn in Libby
prison, they were sent to Camp Parole at Annapolis, Md., were exchanged,
and rejoined the regiment in the following February.
No other incident of moment occurred until we reached the vicinity of
Warrenton, Va. There the morale of the army received a shock from which
it required months for recovery. It was the unexpected relieving of Gen.
George B. McClellan from command, and the assignment of Gen. Ambrose E.
Burnside to that high position. That General McClellan was the idol of
the Army of the Potomac cannot be gainsaid. In him the mass of the
troops had unbounded confidence. He had organized, equipped and drilled
them. On his shoulders that did not rest the blame of their discomfiture
on the Peninsula. Instead they praised him for his masterly "change of
base" from the swamps of the Chickahominy to the James. He had from the
jaws of defeat at Bull Run wrested victory from their elated and
confident enemy at South Mountain and Antietam, and now, when on the
forward movement again, hopeful of final victory, he was unceremoniously
discharged, and one substituted of whom they knew little, and who with
protestations of unfitness accepted the command!
At Warrenton the army encountered the first snowfall of the winter, the
morning reveille waking the sleeping host covered with an extra blanket
of purest whiteness. Our march to the Rappahannock was without further
incident of note. On November 25th we arrived upon the heights
overlooking the ancient city of Fredericksburg sleeping in the river
valley, beyond which rose Marye's heights and the range of wooded hills,
on whose slopes was marshaled our old foe, interrupting our further
advance upon the Confederate capital. Here the army pitched its winter
camp. Many of the quarters were built quite substantial and comfortable.
The messes of five and six, cut and split the soft pine indigenous to
that region, constructing therewith log cabins roofed with their shelter
tents. Many of these cabins were fitted up quite tastefully, having open
fire places and bunks erected against the walls which were supplied with
pillows and mattresses of the resinous pine needles covered with army
blankets, making very comfortable beds, at least quite luxurious to men
who had enjoyed nothing better than the ground, or the soft side of a
plank, for a year past. But from this dream of peace and comfort we were
soon to be rudely wakened. In the early twilight of the morning of
December 11th, the guards that paced their lonely beats about the silent
camps were startled by the sudden boom of a signal gun, its deep
reverberations up and down the river valley giving warning to friend and
foe that a strife for the possession of yonder steeps was soon to begin.
For a moment silence followed this signal and then from the hundred
brazen throats of the batteries that lined the crest of the hills on the
north side flashed sheets of flame amid deafening roar and scream of
shot and shell, that brought every sleeper to his feet. The deep notes
of the heavier ordnance, mingled with the rifle crack of the lighter
parrotts; the whizzing of shot and screaming shells, the path of the
latter marked by burning fuse, presented a scene grand and awe-inspiring
beyond description. It was war's magnificent prelude to the fiercer
music of the clash of a hundred thousand muskets to follow. By daylight,
camps were broken, knapsacks packed, and marching columns were pouring
forward toward the river where the batteries continued to play and pile
their smoke in thick banks along the crest of the hills. All day long we
sat about our campfires in our dismantled quarters waiting the order to
move, but none came and darkness found us replacing our shelters for
another night's rest in our accustomed berths. During the afternoon of
the 12th our corps, the 3d, marched to the extreme left of the line and
bivouacked for the night in a piece of woodland overlooking the river.
The next day, the 13th, we retraced our steps, halting just before noon
at a point where we had a magnificent panoramic view of the river, town
and field, and down into the valley, where could dimly be seen through
the river mists the long lines of blue with flying colors waiting the
command to storm the wooded heights beyond. Judged by the character of
our movements it looked as though we were to be spectators of the
struggle about to open. In the line of battle our place properly would
be with Hooker's grand division, which occupied the center, but instead
we were on the extreme left in support of Franklin. In this, however, we
were mistaken. About 12 o'clock the bugles sounded and the order to fall
in passed along the line, and without further delay the long line of the
3d corps wound down the hill, crossed the river on the lower pontoon
bridge and from thence marched directly out upon the plain to the front
line of battle. That the hour to strike for the possession of yonder
wooded slopes, occupied by the veterans of Jackson, had come was evident
to all. From our right came the crash and long roll of musketry, telling
us that Hooker was crowding the enemy in his front and we should not
long be idle. Soon Randolph's and other batteries in our front and on
our flanks began to feel for the enemy in the woods to our front. As we
stood intently watching the effect of the bursting shells a stream of
smoke shot out from a clump of trees and brush to our left center, and
an instant later a shell whizzed wickedly over our heads. The enemy's
cover was now revealed and on this piece of woodland the fire of every
gun in our batteries were concentrated. For a time he replied with
vigor, sending shot for shot. The voice of Colonel Campbell rang out
above the din: "Lie down." We waited not a second order, but quickly and
closely embraced our mother earth. Soon explosion followed explosion in
quick succession within the enemy's lines. A shot from one of our guns
had penetrated one of their caissons and now their own exploding
ammunition was doing its deadly work, and silencing their only battery
in position to do us immediate harm. Now is the time to charge the
heights! The Pennsylvania Reserves are chosen for the hazardous task. In
three lines, with arms at a right shoulder shift, they advanced at a
quick step. What a magnificent spectacle! Not a man falters, but
shoulder to shoulder they move across the plain in perfect alignment. At
the railroad in the edge of the woods they encounter the enemy, who pour
into their ranks a withering fire. With a cheer they spring forward and
press back the foe. Soon they are lost to view amid the scrub pine,
their location only known by the curling smoke from their pieces and
their cheers as they ascend the hill. Over half way to the summit the
second line of the enemy is encountered. Again a galling fire is poured
into their faces, but still they cheer and press on. Down in the valley
we stand anxiously, but idly watching the now desperate and unequal
contest our comrades of the Old Keystone are waging. They are brothers,
friends and neighbors to many, if not all of us. A half mile intervenes
between them and us. We know we are not in supporting distance. Our
impatience overcomes our discipline to wait the word to advance. Shouts
are being heard all along the line: "Why are not the Reserves being
supported?" We know too keenly that they must yield to the overpowering
odds against them unless reinforced at once!
"Battalion, right face, forward, file left, march!" rings out clear from
the colonel's lips. The men are quick to obey, and we move more rapidly
to the front. "By company, half wheel! Forward into line on first
company!" The movement was executed with alacrity. "Forward, guide
right." We pressed forward with quick step toward the woods from which
was now emerging the broken lines of the Reserves, not in panic, but
resolutely disputing, as best they could, every step. A drainage ditch
from three to four feet deep, grown up in many places with a tangle of
briers, extended along our front and parallel with the railroad at the
foot of the hills. Into this we were ordered in the hope that by its
protection we could stay the enemy's countercharge. The Reserves were
still in our front and to deliver an effective fire was impossible.
Orders to fall back were given, but in the din of battle were unheard or
unheeded, and many who attempted the retreat were left dead or wounded
on the field. The enemy swarmed out of the woods in our front without
order or alignment, giving but little heed to the ditch, springing over
the heads of its occupants in their mad rush for our batteries. There
was not time for the gunners to debate the question of the safety of
their comrades in their front if they would save their batteries, and
possibly the day to our cause. They poured volley after volley of grape
and cannister into the advancing enemy, each discharge mowing great
swathes in their ranks. It was more than human flesh could bear and soon
they were in full retreat for the cover of the woods, and thus ended, so
far as the 57th was concerned, the battle of Fredericksburg. In this
short encounter, possibly lasting ten minutes, the losses of the
regiment were fearful, considering the number engaged. Out of 316 men in
line, 21 were killed, 76 wounded and 78 missing, 54 of whom were
prisoners, 55.38 per cent of the whole force engaged! Among the wounded
was Colonel Campbell, who fell pierced with three balls; Captain
Strohecker, and Surgeon Kennedy. During the 14th the remnant of the
regiment acted as provost guard to gather up stragglers until evening,
when we were again placed in the front line, where we remained until the
night of the 15th. During the 15th a truce was declared for the burial
of the dead, and removal of the wounded; the ghastly sequel of the
battle that robs it of its glory and drowns the acclaims of the victors
in the tears of the widowed and sobs of the orphans. During the night of
the 15th our army withdrew to the north side of the river, leaving the
Confederates the practical victors on the fiercely contested field. The
57th, with shattered ranks, reoccupied its old quarters, the empty tents
and broken messes being sad reminders of the horrors of war, and the
uncertainty of the soldier's term of life. Thus closed the second year
of the war, and the first of service of the 57th regiment for the
preservation of the Union, amid scenes of discomfiture, defeat and
gloom.