THE SIEGE OF PETERSBURG.
On the evening of the 12th of June, just as we had settled ourselves
down, to pass, as best we might, our first night in the trenches, and
amid the roar of artillery and the uncouth yells of the combatants,
to snatch a few hours' much needed sleep, we received orders to pack
up and be ready to march an hour after sundown, to exercise the
utmost caution in our movements, and to allow no talking nor rattling
of arms, accoutrements or equipage to be heard, bayonets to be
unfixed and arms carried at the trail.
And it was so. Quietly and stealthily on that still June evening
the whole Army of the Potomac stole away from under the dark sombre
pine woods where it laid encamped, and commenced its flank march on
Petersburg. Our road, for the first ten or twelve miles, lay in the
direction of White House Landing, and, except that we kept to the
fields, the roads being occupied by our trains and artillery, was
almost a repetition of our route from the Landing to the front.
Just short of White House, however, we turned sharp to the right and
kept away for Baltimore and Kent Cross Roads and Charles City Court
House. At the last named place we were delayed some twelve hours by
the 2d Corps supply train failing to connect, thus affording us a
rest, which, however much it may have disconcerted the plans of the
Lieutenant General, was very acceptable to the men, on whom the long
and rapid marching was beginning to tell.
We resumed our march about an hour before sundown on the afternoon of
the 15th, and at dark were crossing the James River on the pontoons
laid over it at Harrison's Landing. Our course then lay along the
left bank of the river and parallel to it, leaving City Point on our
right and bringing us up to the front of the city of Petersburg,
about 4 o'clock on the afternoon of the 16th of June.
Our sufferings on this day's march, from heat, thirst and fatigue
combined, were severe in the extreme, but, to the credit of our
regiment, with the exception of one or two cases of sun stroke, not a
man fell out, or was missing when we arrived at our final destination.
We had hardly halted and commenced preparations for supper when we
were ordered to move on to support a charge about to be made by the
4th, or colored division, of our corps, and so marched about a mile
further, formed line of battle in a piece of pine woods and awaited
orders. But a short time had elapsed before a confused cheer, or
rather yell, in our front followed by a dropping fire of musketry
and a few rounds from the artillery told that the ball had opened
and that our turn might arrive any minute. The firing, however,
gradually died away without our services being required, and we
shortly learned that the sable gentry had been successful and had
carried the first line of the defences of Petersburg. Supposing that
our services would not be further required, we proceeded to prepare
our long deferred and much desired supper, but hardly had the scent
of the coffee--the great stand-by and panacea of the soldiery--become
perceptible to our expectant senses, before the unwelcome order came
for us again to move and hold the line of works the colored troops
had taken. With many a sigh, the tempting decoction of the Arabian
herb was consigned to the sacred soil of Virginia--in plain English
we threw away our coffee--and with many an insubordinate growl and
execration on the "exigencies of the service," we started for our
new scene of labors. A few solid shot and shell, and one or two
rounds of case and canister were pitched at us as we moved up to the
works, which beyond creating some slight consternation, did no damage
whatever, and, having occupied the old line of rebel works, we passed
the night without molestation and in comparative peace.
Early on the morning of the 17th June, the brigade was formed in line
of battle, in a ravine, preparatory to charging a line of works,
extending from the Bagster Road almost to Hare Hill, the future site
of Fort Steadman. This line of works was situated in the middle of a
field of corn, then just in the tassel, on the crest of a ridge or
slight elevation, and was built in the shape of the letter V, the
apex of the line being towards the rear. To the right and left of the
line were batteries, and another in a narrow section of pine woods
covered the centre of the line. Though not very strongly manned, the
work was a heavy one, and from its commanding position and the heavy
enfilading fire that could be brought to bear on almost any part
of it, not by any means an easy one to carry. Our line was however
formed, and we stood there, the hot bright sun almost blinding us
and heating the dry sand under our feet, till it almost blistered
them, awaiting the orders to commence our first battle. A desultory
fire was being kept up by a line of skirmishers and sharpshooters
entrenched a little in advance of our line and a round of spherical
case or canister would occasionally come whistling over our heads,
spattering sharply and viciously through the timber close in our rear
and making the limbs and splinters fly far and wide. At length the
preparations were all made, and with beating hearts we waited for
the word; it came at last: "Forward, double quick! charge!" a wild,
loud cheer, rolls along from one end to the other of the brigade, a
sudden trampling of feet breaks in on the comparative quiet of the
summer's morning, a few seconds and the line of works in our front
becomes wreathed in smoke, as we mount a low bank which had hitherto
concealed it from our view;--an angry roar from the batteries in
the woods in front of us, and an hailstorm of shot, shell, grape,
canister, and minie balls screaming through the air above and around
us and throwing up clouds of dust, as they strike the sand in every
direction, till the whole battle field is obscured by a heavy cloud
of dust and smoke through which the rebel works in front of us and
their truculent looking butternut defenders are barely discernible.
And through it all the wild cheering yell of our boys as they
pant and struggle on through the deep sand, which fills mouth and
nostrils, almost suffocating us; the crash and roar of cannon and
musketry, the bursting of shells, the whiz of the missiles as they
pass, the cries of the wounded as they roll over in their agony, all
blended and mingling together, yet each sound distinct and clear
as if the only one to break the stillness of the summer air. But
no words can paint a battle any more than can canvas portray its
details, which only those who have participated in can appreciate or
understand. On we go,
"On, on, through the hell-fire of shrapnel and shell
On without faltering, right on with a yell,"
till we see the scowling, wolfish looking faces of the rebels
in their works, till their fire slackens, till we can see the
artillerymen working the guns of the battery on our left limbering up
their pieces and starting to the rear, till the right of their line
breaks slowly from their works and retires to the rear.
Then comes an order "half wheel to the right," a wavering confused
movement along the whole line, a yell of derision from the Rebels,
a sudden recommencement of their fire; and, with victory within its
grasp, the brigade falls back on the line of works they lately left
confident of victory, shattered and broken and leaving hundreds of
its numbers on the field.
From whom the order came directing the movement to the right has
never, I believe, been satisfactorily established, but to this
order, exposing the whole brigade, as it did, to a most severe
enfilading fire, may be attributed the failure of the charge and the
heavy loss sustained by the brigade. Our leading files were close up
to the works, the Rebels were withdrawing their men and guns, and had
we but been allowed to go right ahead, we should have taken the whole
and suffered much less loss than we did. Had we done so, our entrance
into Petersburg that afternoon would have been easily accomplished,
as the troops opposed to us were nothing but the Petersburg Reserves,
raw militia, and few in number.
Our regiment suffered severely in this its first day's fight. Major
Kershaw was shot through the legs; Lieut. Colonel Doolittle was
slightly wounded in the shoulder and had his shoulder strap torn off
by a piece of a shell; Lieut. Earl, Co. B, received a gunshot wound
which caused his death shortly afterwards; Lieut. F. B. Riddle, Co.
C, was mortally wounded, and Capt. Green received a slight contusion
from a piece of shell.
In this engagement Serg't Greene, of company C, the Regimental Color
Bearer, was shot through both legs by a grape shot, in the early part
of the fight; unable to walk and fearful lest the colors entrusted
to his charge, should fall into the hands of the enemy, he rolled up
the flag on the staff and seizing this in his teeth, drew himself
off the field and behind the works into a place of safety. Such
unselfish heroism is deserving the highest commendation, though poor
Greene lived barely long enough to know that his courageous act was
known and appreciated. Our loss in killed and wounded in this battle
amounted to 138 of which number 44 were killed on the field and 10
died from the effects of their wounds.
I do not suppose that a more disheartened and, for the time, broken
down set of men ever met together, than the scattered fragments of
our regiment when we collected in the ravine after our ill-fated
charge on the first day of the battle of Petersburg. Our men had
been marched for four successive days and nights, had had little or
no sleep for five, and been on short rations for the same period. To
this may be added that depressed feeling, the natural sequence of
great excitement, which always follows a battle, even if successful;
the loss of so many of our number, and a feeling that would creep
in--that there had been a blunder, somewhere.
We remained in the ravine for an hour or two, getting rest and
refreshment, of both of which we stood in much need. Towards night,
however, we were ordered forward to support the Second Division who
had advanced their works some way up the field. We accordingly took
possession of a partially constructed breastwork on the edge of the
ravine, and after an hour or two employed in further completing and
strengthening our defences, lay down to get what rest we could to
prepare us for what the morrow might have in store for us. We slept
that night, without rocking, and a heavy fire that the enemy opened
on our lines during the night, hardly awakened us. At daylight
we were roused up and ordered to advance in line of battle, with
two companies deployed as skirmishers, which order, however, was
afterwards modified by the 8th Michigan being deployed along the
whole Brigade front.
We advanced steadily and slowly over the scene of yesterday's
battle and found the line of works for which we had then contended
unoccupied, except by the rebel dead, who were pretty thickly piled
up all along the works. We entered the woods I have before mentioned
as being in the rear of the defenses, in which we found traces of
a large camp, which had evidently been abandoned in great haste.
Muster rolls and other military records, more or less complete, were
scattered round in every direction, cooking utensils and a variety of
eatables lay round everywhere, forming, with worn out clothing and
accoutrements and the remains of the huts and tents, a lively picture
of confusion and ruin.
A brisk fire on the skirmish line showed that we were fast
approaching the scene of action, and on reaching the edge of the
timber we were ordered to build breastworks and await the arrival of
Gen. Bartlett's command on our right. The day was clear and bright,
and, owing to a light northerly breeze, not unpleasantly warm. Our
boys soon threw up a light line of works and lay down under the shade
of the pines to rest.
The situation was a picturesque one not devoid of a certain
solemnity. The light breeze hummed through the pines overhead, with
a pleasant dreamy sound; before us lay a field of oats, waving and
undulating in alternate light and shade as the soft breath of the
summer wind passed over it; far off on the right the distant spires
of Petersburg showed faint and indistinct through the soft blue haze;
on our left a cloud of dark, black smoke curled lazily up over the
tree tops, and dropped gently away to leeward from where a large
cotton factory had been fired by the rebels in their retreat. The air
was alive with the hum of insects and the chirp of birds, and in the
trees, on the left of our regiment, a mocking bird was whistling,
softly but clearly. It was a strange scene, the long lines of faces,
the subdued murmur of conversation, broken only by an occasional shot
from the skirmish line, sounding strangely distant and unreal, and
the flickering shadow of the pine boughs falling at times on some
sunburnt face, with a grave fixed look on it, which showed how the
thoughts were then traveling back over hundreds of miles to some spot
in the far-off North where the loved ones lay, little conscious of
the fate of their nearest and dearest.
On many faces there a darker shadow than that of the pine boughs was
soon to fall forever, and a brighter and more lasting glory than that
of the sun's rays, as the swaying boughs moved aside and let in the
gleaming light. For many there, their last sun had arisen, and the
fitful slumber that now from time to time drooped their eyelids was
but the prelude to the "sleep that knows no waking."
But our thoughts were soon recalled to the realities of the occasion
by the order to advance, and under a sharp fire of cannon and
musketry we pressed on across the oat-field towards a line of works
just discernible, ahead of us. On we went, steadily and unwaveringly,
halting only once to reform the line which had become somewhat broken
from the uneven nature of the ground over which we were advancing.
Forward! again with a cheer, and we see their skirmishers falling
back on their main line of battle; forward a few steps more, and a
wide trench unexpectedly opens before us--it is a deep cut on the
Norfolk and Petersburg railroad. A momentary pause as we catch in a
telegraph wire cunningly stretched on stakes and hid in the long rank
grass on the edge of the cut, and a withering volley sweeps the top
of the cut, and numbers roll down its steep sides to find a grave in
the muddy ditches on the side of the track. Up the steep bank, on
the opposite side, the fragments of our brigade try, once more, to
charge, but the fire that meets them is too heavy, and they fall back
under the protection of the sides of the cut.
Twice again they attempt it, and twice again they are compelled to
fall back, leaving many of their number behind on each successive
charge. And now, on our right, the enemy's sharpshooters have got
into position and, firing along the whole length of the cut, pick off
a man at every shot. Capt. Stevens, of Co. A, is mortally wounded,
and 2d Lieut. Lowber, of the same company, receives a ball through
his fore-arm, thus leaving that company without an officer. And
now the enemy are seen getting a battery into position on a height
commanding the whole of our position. None of our artillery has yet
come up to support us, and our position if not a critical, is at
least, a most anxious one. But soon the sharp crack of a Napoleon
is heard in our rear and the solid shot hums along over our heads
and sends up a cloud of dust and splinters as it strikes where the
rebels are trying to build an earthwork, and Capt. Romer, of the 34th
N. Y., has got his guns into position, and with a few well directed
shots, shells the rebels away from their covert. The crack of those
Napoleons was a thoroughly welcome sound to us all, for it gave
evidence that we were not all alone nor without backers, which, as
the troops on our right and left did not connect with us, appeared at
one time to be the case.
And so the 18th of June, a day memorable in the history of battles,
as the anniversary of Waterloo and Bunker Hill, wore to a close, and
as the welcome shades of night drew in around us, fresh troops taking
our place, we fell back to the woods we had left in the morning, with
sadly diminished numbers, thoroughly wearied and exhausted.
Our loss in this day's battle, though not so severe as in the charge
of the preceding day was, nevertheless, very heavy in proportion to
the number of men engaged. In company A, Capt. Stevens was mortally,
and 2d Lieut. D. A. Lowber, severely wounded, and company B lost its
2d Lieut. N. S. Davison, shot through the shoulder. Our total loss
in killed and wounded was 103, of which number 20 were killed on the
field or died of wounds, and 83 wounded, making with the casualties
of yesterday, an aggregate of 64 killed and 186 wounded. Total loss
250 out of 400.
We remained in the position to which we retired on the night of the
18th June, till the evening of the 20th of the same month, when we
again occupied the front line of works to the right of our previous
position on an eminence known as Hare Hill, so called from the owner
of the plantation on which it is situated, and which was afterwards
chosen as the site for Fort Steadman.
We remained here till the morning of the 22d, when we returned to
our old position, on the Norfolk and Petersburg R. R., where we
remained doing picket and fatigue duty, exposed day and night to a
heavy fire of artillery and musketry, till the 10th of July. On the
28th of June, Lieut. David Prutsman, of company D, was killed by
one of the enemy's sharpshooters while sitting at breakfast, in the
trenches, and our losses in all up to this period amounted to 286
rank and file. In addition to this the extreme heat of the weather
and the confinement to which they were subjected in the trenches, had
caused our previously well thinned ranks to be reduced still lower by
sickness. The position of the regiment, all through the hot summer
months was, indeed, anything but enjoyable, lying on the dusty, sandy
ground, exposed to the full power of the sun's rays by day and the
damp chilly dews by night; obliged to remain in a recumbent position,
where to raise a cap above the breastwork was to make it the target
for half a dozen sharpshooters; water, even for drinking purposes,
hard to get and poor at that, so that when on the 10th of July we
were ordered to the rear, it was hailed by all as a respite from
prison.
After a week's rest, during which, for fear I suppose that the men
might get lazy for want of work, they were kept busy cutting and
carrying material for abattis, the 37th was, on the 17th July, again
ordered into the trenches, where they remained till the morning of
the 30th of July, the day of the battle of Cemetery Hill, or as it is
generally called the "Mine Fort."
This Fort, which was one of the strongest of the enemy's works,
was situated on a hill a little to the right, and in front of our
position, immediately in front of the cemetery at Blandford, one of
the suburbs of Petersburg. A mine had been driven under the direction
of Colonel Pleasant of the 48th Penn. Vol. Inf., from the rear of
the Horse-shoe, where our regiment lay, under this fort, had been
charged and primed, and was to be exploded at daylight on the morning
of the 30th. Immediately on the explosion of the mine, the 9th corps
was to advance on the crater and, taking advantage of the confusion
and consternation excited, endeavor to break and hold the enemy's
line. On eminences to the right and left of Cemetery Hill were forts
which commanded it, and from which a severe enfilading fire could be
directed on the fort itself, and an error in the plan of attack seems
to have been the neglect of having a force ready to attack and, if
possible, capture these works simultaneously with the assault on the
main work, for, had they been captured or their fire silenced, there
is no doubt but that a permanent lodgment would have been effected
in the main line of the defences of Petersburg.
From the report of the Committee on the Conduct of the War, the blame
of the failure of the whole plan, in consequence of this blunder,
seems to be attributed to General Meade, and it would certainly seem
to be an act of negligence on his part, with the force he had at his
disposal, to leave these important points unmolested.
The original arrangement had been to explode the mine at half past
four A. M., and for the assaulting column to advance immediately,
but, owing to a fault in the fuse, it was nearly 6 o'clock before the
explosion took place. At that time a vast column of smoke mingled
with earth, fragments of guns and platforms, logs, sand-bags, gabions
and human beings shot towering into the air to an immense height,
gradually subsiding again and followed immediately by a dull,
smothered roar which shook the ground for miles round, and was said
to have been felt even to City Point. A pause, in which one might
count, perhaps a dozen beats at the wrist, and 85 pieces of heavy
artillery opened almost simultaneously on the rebel lines. The enemy
was not slow in replying, and soon the light artillery and musketry
chimed in, making the noise completely deafening, and the very
ground under our feet to vibrate. From 6 till 12 this hellish uproar
continued unabated at which time it commenced to slacken, till, by
four o'clock, it died away, and, as the last of our troops fell back
from the crater, the battle of July 30th was at an end.
On the explosion of the mine, the rebels fled from their works on
each side of it, panic stricken, but, owing to some unaccountable
blunder, this panic was not taken advantage of, as it might, and
should have been, and the word to advance not being given, for some
minutes, time was given the rebels to recover from the consternation
into which the explosion, thoroughly unlooked for by them, had thrown
them.
The word was given, at last; the charge was made, and the crater
of the exploded mine occupied by our troops at an inconsiderable
loss. Col. Harriman, assisted by Adjutant C. I. Miltimore and men
from different regiments, succeeded in extricating two of the rebel
guns from the ruins of the fort, and turning them against their late
possessors.
The rebels had, by this time, however, recovered from their first
panic, which had led them to hastily and precipitately abandon the
works on each side the fort, and were forming in line of battle for
the purpose of recapturing the ruins of the works, and, to cover the
attack, were pouring in a tremendous enfilading fire from the two
forts on the right and left. Reinforcements were sent into the crater
from time to time, but no orders being given for an attack on either
of the flanking works, the crater had, by this time, become densely
packed with troops, and the explosion having completely leveled the
parapet, they were left almost entirely without protection, and the
whole place soon become a perfect slaughter house. The position was
held, however, till about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when, the
rebels having advanced near enough to plant their colors on the
outside of the works, and our men being unable to accomplish anything
or to hold the works without immense loss of life, orders were given
for them to fall back to our main line, which was accordingly done.
In this engagement, out of two hundred and fifty men who went into
action in the morning, only 95 remained to answer their names at
roll-call that evening. Capt. A. A. Burnett, of company K, received
a wound in the head, from the effects of which he died on the 18th
of August; Capt. Frank A. Cole, received a severe wound in the hip,
which necessitated an operation which proved fatal; Lieuts. Atwell,
G; L. U. Beal, E, and George D. McDill, K, also received wounds which
incapacitated them from further service, and Lieuts. Munger, D, and
Holmes, G, were taken prisoners.
On the evening of the battle, the regiment was relieved from the
front line and allowed to withdraw to the rear, where it remained,
doing fatigue duty, till the 19th of August.
On the night of the 19th, the whole regiment was sent out on fatigue,
the work in which they were engaged being the erection of a large
fort, afterwards named Fort Schenckl, on the Jerusalem Plankroad.
On returning to camp at daylight, next morning, orders were found
awaiting us, "to strike tents and get ready to march at once." This
was no very welcome order for men who had been hard at work all
night, part of the time exposed to a rather brisk artillery fire;
but there was no help for it, the rest of the brigade had already
started, and so after a hasty cup of coffee and a half hour's nap we
started out to overtake the command. After a long and tedious march
through rain and mud, made at a rapid rate, we caught up with the
remainder of the brigade, which had moved out before daylight, near
the Yellow Tavern, and after a short rest were ordered into action to
repel an attack of the enemy on our front line. The rebels fell back
as we advanced, being driven by us through the woods, till, gaining
an open place and receiving reinforcements, they once more made a
stand, and the 37th was ordered to take up a new position further to
the left, which they did, and held the same till dark, having lost
ten killed and wounded during the battle. During the night of the
19th and throughout the whole of the 20th, the regiment was moved,
from point to point, as the enemy massed his troops in different
positions, in attempting to regain possession of the Weldon road.
At an early hour on the 21st of August, the regiment was set to work
building a line of entrenchments across the Weldon railroad, facing
towards the rear of our main line of works. The works were hardly
completed before a determined and combined attack was made by the
enemy on three different points, simultaneously, for the purpose
of regaining possession of the railroad. The 37th was ordered up
to support the 19th New York battery, which was in position on the
extreme left of our line, and which was suffering severely from the
effects of a rapid and well directed fire which was being directed
against them from a rebel battery in their rear and to the left. In
performing this duty the 37th suffered severely, losing 10 killed
and 25 wounded, but succeeding in finally compelling the enemy to
withdraw his guns.
Till the 25th the men wore kept hard at work doing picket and guard
duty, and building breastworks and fortifications commanding the
Weldon railroad and its approaches. On that day, however, we were
once more ordered to march, our destination being Reams' Station,
where the 2d Corps was engaged and in need of support. On approaching
the scene of action we soon found strong presumptive evidence of the
truth of this position, the road, for several miles, being thickly
lined with stragglers wearing the clover leaf, the distinguishing
badge of the 2d Corps, and showing that an active retrograde move was
in progression. A part of our brigade was kept to do provost guard
duty and stop and re-assemble the stragglers as best they might,
while the rest, including the 37th, pushed on and covered the retreat
of the 2d Corps, holding the enemy in check till dark, when we fell
back within our lines and slept on our arms that night.
On the 27th a new line of works was constructed and a new camp formed
near Blick Station, where the time was passed till the 24th of
September in guard and picket duty. On the 29th the regiment moved to
the neighborhood of the Yellow Tavern, where Colonel Harriman assumed
command of the brigade, now 1st Brig. 1st Div. 9th A. C., and Major
Kershaw, who had partially recovered from the effects of the wounds
he received on the 17th of June, and had rejoined the regiment,
took command of the same. The brigade marched to the neighborhood
of Poplar Grove Church where it was formed as reserve to the second
brigade, which was about to assault the enemy's works defending the
South Side Railroad and which were distant about a mile and a half.
In the charge, the 2d brigade was repulsed and, retiring in disorder,
threw part of the 1st brigade into confusion; a battery also which
had been sent up to check the advance of the enemy, retreated
rapidly to the rear, as the enemy advanced from out of the wood,
thus materially adding to the confusion. The 37th fell back to where
the temporary shelter of a fence enabled them to reform their line
of battle, and by a heavy and well sustained fire, repulsed several
attacks of the enemy, and held the position till reinforcements
arrived and the imminent defeat was thus rendered a victory. The
same night the regiment went into camp on the Pegram farm where they
constructed a heavy line of works strongly protected by forts and a
line of abattis. The losses of the regiment in this successive series
of battles amounted in all to 25 killed and 75 wounded, and gained
it a reputation which it has maintained untarnished to the end. We
remained in camp on the Pegram farm and in that vicinity, occupied in
picket and fatigue duty till the 28th of October, when we took part
in the reconnaissance in force made in the direction of Thatcher's
Run. Our loss in this affair was very trifling, only two men being
wounded, one very slightly. We advanced about three miles, meeting
little or no opposition, and having entrenched and remained one night
in the immediate presence of the enemy, we fell back to our former
position on the morning of the 29th. During this movement Adjt. C. T.
Miltimore was wounded whilst on the picket line.
In the latter part of November, the 9th corps was moved from the
extreme left to the extreme right of the Army of the Potomac, its
left resting on the Weldon R. R. and its right on the Appomattox;
this brought the 1st Brigade back to their old station in front
of the Mine or Crater Fort, with the 37th Wis. and 109th N. Y. in
reserve in the woods, in the rear of the main line.
Our time here was fully occupied in building houses for the winter,
standing picket, doing guard and fatigue duty more or less exposed to
the enemy's fire, day and night.
On the 8th of December the 37th, in company with the 109th N. Y.
were ordered to move to the rear and report to Brevet Col. Robinson,
commanding Provisional Brigade. We moved out soon after dark on a
bitter cold night, a cutting north-east wind sweeping over the bare
surface of the country with a chill that went to the marrow. All that
night and the next day and night, when a mingled storm of rain and
snow set in, as if to cap the climax and add what little was wanting,
of making our situation as uncomfortable as possible, we remained on
a bare open common, without any tents, a good many without blankets,
and with nothing at hand with which to build a fire.
The Sanitary Commission, with its well-known generosity, sent down a
pair of woolen mittens and a cup of hot milk punch for each man in
the brigade, on the evening of the second day, which added materially
to our comfort and rendered our situation somewhat more endurable.
At length, at about 3 o'clock of the afternoon of the third day, the
orders came to march. It was drawing towards the close of a dull, raw
winter's day as our men, stiff and cold with exposure and want of
rest, started wearily off down the Jerusalem Plank Road. The road was
almost knee deep in half frozen mud and sleet, the broken planks lay
round in every direction, and as we blundered on through the darkness
that, accompanied by a drizzling rain, soon fell on us, many "a curse
not loud but deep" was vented on Virginia, her roads and her rebels.
Once, and once only did we rest that night, and daylight, or as much
of it as could struggle through a dull, leaden looking sky, found us
at the end of our march, at Hawkin's Tavern, on the Nottoway River,
the scene of the defeat of Kautz and Wilson in their raid during the
summer of '63. And here, for the first time, we learned the nature
and object of our expedition.
The second and fifth corps had started off on a raid along the line
of the Weldon R. R. which they had struck at Jarrett's Station, and
had torn up and destroyed the track from that point to the North
Carolina line, burning the bridge over the Meherrin River, and
pushing on, almost to Weldon. Our mission was to reinforce them and
protect their rear, on the homeward march, if the disposition of the
enemy's force should seem to menace their safety, and we were ordered
to wait at Hawkin's till their rear had passed.
About 3 o'clock the Second Corps passed through our camp and
immediately afterwards the Provisional Brigade was put in motion
and followed them at a rapid rate. About two miles from Hawkin's we
passed through the midst of the 2d corps, camped on each side the
road, but no orders were given us to halt and our command was pushed
on, without a halt and without a rest, until the thirty miles between
us and camp were accomplished. This was the severest marching we
ever undertook, the distance being accomplished in about seven hours
by men in heavy marching order, carrying sixty rounds ammunition
and four days rations, besides their knapsacks and accoutrements,
and chilled and stiffened by exposure to three days and nights very
inclement weather. On our return, in retaliation for the murder of
two of its number by citizens of Sussex county, the 2d corps fired
every house and building along the line of march, from the Nottoway
river to our rear line of works, in front of Petersburg, drove off
large numbers of oxen, sheep, pigs, horses, mules, &c., and brought
in with them a large number of negroes.
After our return to the inside of our lines in front of Petersburg,
we remained for two days in a temporary camp, in rear of the Jones
House, after which we returned to our old camp on the Baxter Road,
where we remained in winter quarters till the opening of the campaign
of '65.