TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.
More detail can be found at the end of the book.
THE
SWORD AND GUN,
A HISTORY OF THE
37th WIS. VOLUNTEER INFANTRY.
From its first Organization to its final Muster Out.
BY MAJOR R. C. EDEN.
MADISON:
ATWOOD & RUBLEE, PRINTERS.
1865.
DEDICATED
TO THE
OFFICERS, NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND MEN OF THE REGIMENT,
AND
TO THE MEMORY OF THOSE THAT FELL IN THE
SIEGE OF PETERSBURG, 1864-1865,
BY THE AUTHOR.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Preface 5
History--Chapter I 7
Chapter II 17
Chapter III 39
Table of Gain and Loss 69
Roster and Muster Rolls 70
List of Deaths 110
Final Roster 117
L'Envoi 118
PREFACE.
I have attempted, in this small volume, to give a true and impartial
history of the brief but glorious career of our Regiment. Though
called into the field at a late hour, the services of the Regiment
have been arduous and severe, in the extreme, and, participating,
as it has done, in the last closing scenes of the rebellion, it has
shared in the honor and glory of winding up the secession movement.
These memoirs have been mostly compiled from memory, with the
assistance of the regimental and company records, and the
reminiscences of my brother officers.
For the literary excellence of the work, I claim no merit, as I have
not endeavored to accomplish more than the title of the work sets
forth: a plain "History of the 37th Regiment Wisconsin Volunteer
Infantry." As such a record, it may, I hope, be kindly received among
those whose deeds it sets forth; further than that I care little for
its fate.
A few years, and the scenes of this rebellion will become misty and
indistinct, through the veil of years; a few more, and it will have
become a matter of history, minor details and incidents being lost
and absorbed in the great broad facts of the period. Then, the author
has a hope, a vain one if you will, but springing from the pardonable
vanity of a parent in the offspring of his brain, that such records
as this will be prized as this generation is passing away, and those
who have shared in the stirring events of the time it treats of, may,
---- dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue.
[_Julius Cæsar, Act III, Scene 2._
CHAPTER I.
In the spring of 1864, a call having been made by the President for
500,000 fresh troops, his Excellency, James T. Lewis, issued an order
for the raising of a regiment to be designated the 37th Wisconsin
Volunteer Infantry.
To Sam. Harriman, of Somerset, St. Croix county, Captain of company
A, 30th Wisconsin, was entrusted the charge of raising this regiment,
and a commission as Colonel issued to him on the 7th of March.
The work of recruiting was immediately entered into with vigor, and,
on the 13th of April, 1864, the first company, (company, B, Capt. R.
C. Eden,) was mustered into the service of the United States, at the
rendezvous at Madison, by Capt. T. T. Brand, "for three years, unless
sooner discharged." On the afternoon of the same day, company C,
Capt. John Green, was also mustered in by the same officer, followed
on the 12th of the same month by company D, Capt. Alvah Nash, on the
16th by company A, Capt. S. Stevens, on the 18th by company E, Capt.
Frank A. Cole, on the 19th by company F, Capt. E. Burnett, on the 3d
of May by company G, Capt. W. W. Heller, and company H, Capt. Frank
T. Hobbs, on the 5th of May by company K, Capt. A. A. Burnett, and on
the 6th of the same month by company I, Capt. Geo. A. Beck.
On the 28th of April, companies A, B, C, D, E, and F left Camp
Randall, under command of Major Kershaw, and proceeded to
Washington, where they arrived on the 1st of May, and were encamped
on Arlington Heights, in the neighborhood of the Long Bridge.
Colonel Harriman accompanied the regiment as far as Chicago, from
which place he returned to Madison, to superintend the organization
of the four remaining companies. The journey was accomplished in
safety and without the occurrence of any noteworthy incident. On the
17th, the detachment was joined by companies H and I, and arms and
accoutrements being at once issued to the men, the instruction of
the regiment in the manual and battalion drill was at once proceeded
with, with vigor. Lieut. Col. Doolittle, having joined the regiment
at Chicago, assumed the command then and there, taking charge of the
disciplining and instructing of the eight companies, of which it was
then composed.
On the 28th of May, orders were received for the regiment to prepare
for the field, and to be ready to march by the next morning. The
comfortable "wedge" and "wall" tents in which men and officers had
been luxuriating and gaining their first experience of camp life
were, accordingly, turned in to the Regimental Quartermaster, and the
fragmentary and disjointed dwellings, known to the polite world as
shelter tents, or _tentes d'abri_, but known amongst soldiers as _pup
tents_, were issued in their stead. All extra baggage was disposed
of, and the comforts of civilized life bid adieu to, "for three years
unless sooner discharged."
At daylight, on the morning of the 29th, we took up our line of
march for Alexandria, thus entering on our first campaign. The
morning was sunny and clear, and as the sun gained power, became
unpleasantly warm, and a source of no little distress to men unused
to marching and the encumbrance of gun, knapsack and accoutrements,
as ours were. About ten o'clock, we arrived in the suburbs of
Alexandria, where we rested for an hour or two, awaiting orders as to
our further disposition.
The transports on which we were to embark for White House Landing,
on the Pamunkey River, the then base of supplies of the Army of
Virginia, had arrived the night previous and were then engaged in
taking on board a large herd of cattle, which was to form part of
their live freight, and we were accordingly ordered into camp on
the banks of the river where we remained till 5 o'clock on the
afternoon of the 30th. The work of embarking the troops was then
commenced, and our Regiment was divided into three divisions, which
were distributed as follows: Companies B and E were assigned to the
propeller _S. Cloud_, under command of Capt. Eden, of company B; the
propeller _Andrew Harder_ carried companies A, C, D and F, under
command of Lieut. Col. Doolittle, while Capt. Hobbs took command of
the remainder of the detachment on board of the _Charles Osgood_.
With the exception of the _Harder's_ grounding on a sand bank just
above Mt. Vernon, and nearly involving the _Cloud_, which came to
her assistance, in a like catastrophe, no incident, unpleasant or
otherwise, occurred to mar the tranquility of our passage down the
Potomac.
We made a pleasant run down Chesapeake Bay, and the morning of
the second of June found us, after a close escape from grounding
on York Spit,--a long narrow point of sand off the mouth of York
River,--preparing to anchor off Yorktown to wait for a pilot to
conduct us up the intricate navigation of the York and Pamunkey
Rivers. The original intention had been for us to follow up the
_Harder_, the only vessel in the squadron that carried a government
pilot, but owing to her neglecting to display a proper signal, during
the night, we had lost sight of her and were consequently left to our
own resources.
Our preparations for anchoring were yet in course of completion when
the pilot was seen, coming out of Yorktown, and the squadron was
again headed up the York River. About noon we passed West Point,
an insignificant collection of small dwellings, situated on a long
point of land between the York and Pamunkey rivers, and just at their
junction. From this point to White House Landing the Pamunkey is,
perhaps, as crooked a river as can be found in the United States. The
channel, however, is straight and deep, running between low, flat
marshes occasionally relieved with high, steep banks and well wooded
bluffs, capital points for guerrilla operations.
Rumors were rife as to the exploits of these gentry, in this
neighborhood, and the several divisions of the detachment received
orders to load, many of them then performing that operation for the
first time. The size of our squadron, however, and the presence of
several "tin-clads" and "double enders," those "restless wanderers
of the _deeps_" and shallows, tended no doubt to awe the bushwhackers
and keep them on their best behavior.
At any rate the Thirty-Seventh passed along, unmolested and
unmolesting, except when an insubordinate recruit would insist on
trying the range of Springfield or (contraband) Colt on sundry and
divers vagabond members of the porcine tribe, that seemed to lead
an aimless and unsatisfactory life, on the banks of the Pamunkey.
And so the long summer's day passed away, with the hot perpendicular
rays of the sun shining down on our bare decks, unchecked by awning
or shelter of any kind, frying the pitch out of the deck seams and
reducing the tar in the rigging to the consistency of molasses and
leaving about as pleasant an impression on the incautious hands of
those who ventured to touch strand or stay. But "all things come
to an end," says the wise man, and so even will a long hot summer
day, if it is passed on board a crowded transport, with a scarcity
of standing, sitting or lying room, a still greater scarcity of
drinkable water, and an utter absence of anything at all approaching
to comfort.
About 5 P. M., a sudden turn in the river brings us in sight of the
chimneys of what once was the White House, from which the landing,
which is for the present to be our destination, takes its name. A few
more throbbing, restless pulsations of our propeller's wheel, and
its action grows fainter and slower as, amidst a crowd of steamers,
propellers, tug-boats, schooners, barges, scows, skiffs, and all
the crowd of craft incident to a base of supplies, we work our way
up to the landing. Again a few more revolutions of the wheel, a jar
and a crash accompanied by a few nautical expletives, and we grind
alongside of a sutler's barge, blundering down stream, without any
apparent directing power or any definite object in view; till at
length one of the never-resting, spiteful looking, ever-watchful
tug-boats darts out from some labyrinth of hulls, pounces on it and
drags it away, awkward and clumsy and apparently remonstrating and
resisting to the last, into its proper and designated mooring place.
Then a sudden cessation of the, to all appearance, endless jar and
throb of the screw, a tangled web of heaving-lines flying through the
air, a deafening roar as the pent up steam raises the valve and comes
tumbling out at the escape pipe and eddies and whirls about as if for
pure joy at its liberation from restraint; a few more double-shotted
nautical expletives, a vast amount of veering and hauling on heavy
hawsers and the transports are made fast and our voyage ended.
But, if the confusion on the river was great, that on the shore was
certainly, to all appearances, much greater. Mule drivers, addressing
their jaded teams by every soothing and endearing epithet in the well
stocked vocabulary of their class, and the mules replying in their
scarcely less intelligible, and much less profane, dialect; long
wagon trains, coming and going in every direction; colored laborers,
rolling barrels on to every bodies' toes, their own included, and
becoming the patient recipients of remarks objurgatory of their eyes
and limbs, therefor. Long lines of stretchers loaded with wounded
being carried on board two large hospital steamers, loading for
Washington; ambulances arriving from the front, with fresh cases;
orderlies, hot and dusty, riding, walking, or running in every
direction; clouds of dust and smoke, from camp fires and steamboats;
shouting, braying, swearing, yelling, (from the mules) whistling from
the steamboats, combined altogether to form a scene of noise and
confusion, to which the grand finale at the tower of Babel was, by
comparison, nothing but a quiet assemblage of sober and well behaved
mechanics. Threading our way, with no little difficulty, through this
motley assemblage, we at length gained a quiet and comparatively
secluded spot where we were, much to our relief, ordered to camp; and
this we, nothing loth, proceeded at once to do.
Here we remained, guarding prisoners and picketing along the line of
the Richmond railroad, till the 10th of June; here we, for the first
time, heard the sound of shotted guns, as the terrible battle of
the 3d of June surged and roared, nearly twenty miles away, in our
front. And all that night, and part of the 4th, the long trains of
ambulances, each bearing its ghastly load of bleeding and suffering
men, rolled through our camp, giving us our first insight into the
horrors of war, in which we were soon to take an active part. Here,
too, we had a first insight into the heroism and patience under
suffering of those who form our armies; numbers of slightly wounded,
or, who at least were not absolutely prevented from traveling by the
loss of limbs, came straggling through our camps, many only just able
to limp along; some with hands or arms bandaged; others with ugly
cuts on the head or face, their hair all matted and tangled, soaked
with blood and clogged with the dust of the road, hungry, thirsty,
weary and suffering, but uttering no complaints, and patient and
cheerful under it all.
And in the Depot Hospital at the landing we had an opportunity of
witnessing the heroic and charitable part the women of America were
taking in the war. No matter how ragged or dirty the sufferer,
how hideous or revolting the wound, alive in many instances with
maggots, and in every form of putrefaction and mortification; no
matter what nation or country the patient belonged to; woman's kind,
ministering hand was there, to wash the festering wound, to bathe the
toil-worn feet, to comb the matted locks, hold the cooling draught
to the parched lips, or to receive the last words that fell from
them e'er they were closed forever. And this without reward or hire,
or expectation of it, their only recompense the consciousness of
obeying the mandate that makes charity our duty, their only reward
the knowledge that they are aiding to maintain the government and
preserve the integrity of the stars and stripes.
But we linger too long around White House Landing and scenes, which,
though then novel and strange to us, have since become a part of
our every day life. On the 10th of June, we were dispatched from
the base as guard to a supply train, under charge of Capt. Alex.
Samuels, of the 5th Wisconsin, which was on its way to the front
at Cool Arbor, or Cold Harbor, as it is sometimes written. Much
dispute has been held, as to the orthography and derivation of the
name of this place, it being called indiscriminately Cool Arbor, Cold
Harbor, Cool Harbor, and Coal Harbor. The first would, however, seem
to be the most appropriate designation, as there is no Harbor, nor
any navigable stream to convert into one, within ten miles of the
place. I have been informed by a Virginian who is acquainted with the
locality, that the name originated as follows:
Cool Arbor, which is nothing more than a large farm house or tavern
on one of the main highways leading to Richmond, was originally built
by an Englishman, as a place of summer resort for the citizens of
that place, and named by him Cool Arbor, from its pleasant and shady
location. The proverbial (H)english disregard of the use of the
aspirate probably converted the second word of the name into Harbor,
and a broad provincial dialect would easily effect the transition
from Cool to Coal or Cold. Its claim to either title is now a poor
one, for trees and farm have both alike disappeared, and in the words
of the poet, "_perierunt etiam ruinæ_"--the very ruins are gone.
At this place we arrived in safety after a long and tedious march of
nearly twenty miles, along a heavy, sandy road plentifully bestrewn
with dead mules, wagons broken or stuck in the swamps, and abandoned,
and all the _debris_ usually to be seen on the line of communication
between a large army and its base. Our march was only marked by the
incidents common to such a trip; an overturned wagon now and then to
be righted, or a broken-down mule to be led to the roadside and shot;
a vexatious delay of perhaps half an hour, to make some repair to
harness or wheels, and then a forced march for a mile or two to catch
up with the rest of the train.
To any one that has never tried it, the task of guarding a wagon
train may, perhaps, be recommended as an amusement, on the score of
novelty, but we hardly think it is one that can be either pleasantly
or profitably followed up, as a steady trade.
On arriving at Cool Arbor we were assigned to the 1st Brigade, 3d
Division of the 9th, or Burnside's, Army Corps, temporarily attached
to the Army of the Potomac, though in reality belonging to no army
in particular, and better known amongst military men as "Burnside's
Traveling Menagerie," so called, not from the heterogeneous
collection composing it, but from the wandering nature of the service
it had been engaged in since its organization. Our Division Commander
was Brig. Gen. O. B. Willcox, of the regular army, since promoted to
be Brevet Major General, and our Brigade Commander, Brig. Gen. John
F. Hartranft, afterwards Major General of Volunteers, commanding the
Third Provisional Division of the 9th Army Corps.
On the morning of the 12th of June we were ordered from the position
we held on the flank, into the front line of works, where we had
the pleasure of listening to the music of shot and shell, and of
inspecting a rebel line of fortifications, for the first time.