had for the first time given Funkstown distinction, otherwise it
might have slumbered a thousand years with no signs of awakening. To
the wearied men of the Thirty-ninth who, in twenty hours or less,
had traversed through rain and mud from twenty-five to thirty miles
of wretched roads any sort of place was agreeable for a terminal,
and they were glad to hear the command "Halt," and the subsequent
direction to pitch tents was equally grateful. Those that could turned
in early, but those unlucky ones who had to stand guard faced their
duty grimly, realizing that war was not altogether fun. A skirmish
line actively engaged, out towards the lines of the enemy, gave to
these inexperienced soldiers just the least foretaste of what hostile
bullets meant. There was a general feeling that the morrow would bring
the clash of arms, and that the days of preparation were over. Ten days
after Gettysburg, the Confederates, at bay between the river and the
Federals, must either fight, drown or surrender.
Lieut. Colonel Peirson who, when a member of the Twentieth
Massachusetts had served on the staff of General Sedgwick, now
commanding the Sixth Army Corps, naturally improved the opportunity to
call upon his former leader. Our officer was received most kindly and
the situation was freely discussed, the General saying that he had just
returned from a conference of all the general officers, at which it was
decided that it was then inexpedient to attack Lee, his force being
about as large as our own and his position for defense being stronger
than ours for attack. So depleted were the regiments by the great
battle, so recently fought, the Thirty-ninth was as large as almost any
brigade. Years later, on meeting General Meade in Boston, the decision
of the conference was confirmed, the Potomac Army Commander telling
Colonel Peirson that the risk involved was considered too great. Of
course of this the rank and file, wondering when the orders to attack
would be heard, knew nothing.
The dawn of Tuesday, the 14th, revealed an entirely different
situation; the Confederates, afar from their case of supplies,
impoverished as to ammunition by the demands of Gettysburg, hence in
no condition to attack even if so disposed, had worked industriously
all of Monday, the 13th, in constructing a pontoon bridge across the
Potomac, at Falling Waters, over which they had withdrawn during the
night. To the rank and file, the situation did not appeal as it did
to those in command who saw in the escape of the enemy the possible
results of the fierce engagement at Gettysburg vanish away. Men with
guns, as they advanced, were not encountering the expected opposition
and finally, when in the afternoon Williamsport was reached and still
no sight of the foe, the dullest man in line realized that the fight
for that day was off. One of the observers inscribes in his diary these
reflections, "If we had attacked the rebels yesterday, we might have
made great havoc among them, crossing the river, but, as it is, we
probably will have to follow them into Virginia; pitched our tents,
cooked some coffee and went to sleep." Another commentator remarks,
"The Somerville (E) Company is detailed as guard at General Newton's
headquarters."
[Sidenote: JULY 14, '63]
History is now repeat to itself, since Lee with his army is moving up
the Shenandoah Valley as he did after Antietam, while Meade and the
Union army will follow the route of McClellan along the eastern side of
the Blue Ridge, appearing at each one of the successive gaps through
which the Confederates might essay a passage on their return to their
former stamping grounds. With what might have had been, had Meade done
this or that, we have no more to do than with the events which followed
Antietam, and a like dilatoriness on the part of McClellan in moving
immediately on the enemy's works. Our present concern is with and for
the Thirty-ninth Regiment which hears the reveillé at five o'clock in
the morning of the 15th, with the injunction to be ready to march in
twenty minutes, a command which resulted in a start at six o'clock. The
day is hot and sultry, the pace rapid and again men rid themselves of
everything possible to lighten their burdens as they hasten over the
dusty Maryland roads. Funkstown is again sighted, though on the right,
and the battle-line of the day before is hurriedly passed. The gory
field of Antietam, where so many of the blue and the gray mingled their
life-blood, is also recognized and a halt is called near Antietam Creek.
One of the early incidents of the day's march was the meeting of the
Sixth Corps and the First, rendering it necessary for the two bodies
to pass each other at nearly right angles. The writer also notes the
peculiar coincidence that this passage of the Thirty-ninth was effected
through the ranks of the Thirty-seventh, a Western Massachusetts
regiment; just a chance to say "Good-morning and Good-bye," all in
the same breath. It was on this day's march also that the news came
of the fall of Port Hudson and the bloody combats before Charleston,
South Carolina. Burnside's bridge, over the Antietam, is crossed in the
opposite direction from that taken by that leader a year ago and the
hurried way is pursued through Keedysville to Rohersville where the
camp is pitched for the night. It has been a hard day, with a record
of fully twenty-five sun-broiling miles passed over, and to crown the
miseries of the march, rations are scarce, in most cases entirely
lacking. The story is told that a goose was appropriated on the way,
with the hope that soon opportunity might be found for cooking it,
but the wearied men, successively, grew tired of carrying it and its
body was left for some luckier party, nearer the rear of the line, to
enjoy on reaching camp. The strain must be excessive which will cause a
soldier to throw away an edible luxury.
As usual, the bugle summons the men from repose at an early hour on
the 17th and not a little rejoicing follows the announcement that
rations are to be drawn, so that the day's exactions will begin on full
stomachs. At not quite so brisk a rate as that of yesterday, the route
continues through Crampton's Gap, on to a hillside near Petersville,
not far from Catoctin Creek, a name often heard in stories of the
locality. Berlin, a village somewhat below Harper's Ferry on the
Potomac, is the name of the nearest river point, and all are pleased at
the chance to pitch their shelter tents, to rest, to clean up clothing
and weapons, and to realize that the soldier is not always on the
march. It was at this point that the chaplain and the men who had been
left in Washington rejoined the regiment. The 17th of July introduces
the variation of a heavy rain, yet this does not prevent our active men
from visiting neighboring regiments whose depleted condition contrasts
vividly with the full ranks of the newly arrived. Says one visitor,
"Some of the old regiments do not number more than our one company."
On this day, obedient to orders, the Fifty-first Regiment takes its
departure for the North and its muster-out, its entire tour of duty
from the first of the month having been over and above the time called
for by its term of enlistment.
[Sidenote: JULY 17, '63]
The assembling of a great army is ever a magnificent sight, and that
presented by the several corps of the Potomac Army, awaiting the laying
of pontoon bridges across the Potomac for the use of this great array
of humanity, forms no exception, a glorious sight even though seen
through showers of rain. It is the period also of wheat-harvest and,
notwithstanding the moisture, something of an idea is obtained of how
the staff-of-life looks in its earlier stages. There is a deal of talk
among the soldiers as to how they ought to have fought and finished
Lee, many of them believing that the end of the Rebellion might have
been effected at or near Williamsport. By the 18th, the bridges being
in readiness, early orders are given that all must be ready to advance
at four o'clock, and for a wonder the start is only half an hour behind
the appointment. The Fifth Corps and the cavalry crossed last night.
The Forty-sixth Massachusetts, one of the nine months' regiments,
accompanying us all the way round from Maryland Heights, is but a few
rods from the river, when orders are received to fall out and proceed
immediately to Baltimore and so Northward; for some reason, the Eighth
Massachusetts, in the same category, still continues in line. It was
in these days that certain of the regiment, thinking themselves so far
from the region of military precision they might essay a little abandon
of style, attempted to wear the "bell-hats," worn by some regiments,
in place of the visored, regulation caps required where style was
effected, but the Colonel would have none of it and to trade back was
the next thing necessary.
FOOTNOTES:
[E] It was during this strenuous night that General Briggs imparted to
the Thirty-ninth men near him, acting as bodyguard, the interesting
item that an old farmhouse near them was the very one in which "Old
John Brown," in October, 1859, had assembled his followers and whence,
during the night of the 17th, they went to the attack on Harper's
Ferry. As the Kennedy farm, the place of rendezvous, was within sight
of Boonsboro, it is not improbable that the morning's halt was near the
historic building.
IN VIRGINIA
Quite nine months have passed since that hurried departure from
Arlington for the Maryland side of old Potomac's shore and now, on the
18th of July, the sacred soil is again trodden by Massachusetts feet
as the regiment takes its way through a section that fairly captivates
the eyes of these men so far from home and, after a march of possibly
thirteen miles, the lovely village of Waterford is reached at about
two o'clock in the afternoon. Considering the unusual beauty of the
village, its marked similarity to just such assemblages of dwellings in
the North, the surprise of the visitors is not so great when they learn
that the place has furnished two full companies of soldiers for the
Union army. After a good night's rest, at 6 a. m. of Sunday, the 19th,
the regiment passed through the village, keeping step to patriotic
airs, while the people displayed Union flags and cheered the passing
men in blue; the scene would hardly have been different, were they in
one of their own Northern towns. Through a continuation of yesterday's
scenic beauties, the march is made to the village of Hamilton fifteen
miles away, also a beautiful place, and here the halt is made under
trees so umbrageous that tents are unnecessary, all declaring it the
very best camping place yet. The neighboring fields abound in seemingly
endless quantities of blackberries of which the hungry soldiers proceed
to eat their fill, not only satisfying hunger but proving an excellent
specific for certain ailments incident to the season. Had the officers
purposely directed the army this way, they could have done nothing more
opportune for the health of the men. What Northern home is ignorant
of the healing qualities of blackberry cordial? Better far than many
responses to the surgeon's call.
[Sidenote: JULY 20, '63]
The men thought the Sunday well spent and, after a twilight devoted
to reminiscenes, wherein of course home abounded, couches on mother
earth were sought, hoping that sleep might be undisturbed until morn.
It was well that rest was taken early for it is only two o'clock of
the 20th when morning sleep is broken by the bugle call; evidently a
long march is in prospect, but from characteristic delays, it is fully
five o'clock before faces are again set southward, the route being
through a section badly scarred by the ravages of war. About twenty
miles are passed over in reaching Middleburg, a place on the Alexandria
and Winchester turnpike, of some local importance, whose inhabitants
are largely if not entirely secesh, and we are told that many of them,
being in Pickett's Division, had suffered greatly at Gettysburg. Indeed
one lady, the mistress of a large and elegantly furnished mansion,
apparently one of the F. F. V.'s, who very kindly responded to the
requests of the Union soldiers, when thanked most respectfully for
her consideration, replied that she only wished people on the other
side might have done as much for her son who was killed at Gettysburg.
On the way hither, the regiment has the new experience of fording a
stream, Goose Creek, from two to four feet deep and from 80 to 100 feet
wide.
A heavy picket line is thrown out because of the proximity of
guerrillas, who prowl around like jackals intent on mischief; and they
already had captured several division staff officers who had ridden too
far ahead, for the purpose of selecting proper camping grounds. The
tour of picket duty was not without its compensation since an abundance
of blackberries was revealed by the morning of the 21st which, with
food foraged from the enemy's country, helped out the somewhat reduced
rations of the haversack. In the preceding night Samuel W. Joyce,
Company C, a Medford boy, had died, worn out by the exactions of the
expedition, and a prayer by the chaplain is the sole service as his
body is committed to the earth, since in active warfare scant time is
found for burial ceremonies. The entire day is passed in this camp,
thus affording a needed rest while time is found for observation, not
alone of the neighboring fields, abounding in berries, but of the
people among whom no men of military age are found and of the fact that
Confederate money finds greater favor here than the currency of Uncle
Sam, a peculiarity however that gradually disappears as the months
advance.
It is two o'clock, p. m. when the command to pack up is heard, but it
is nearly or quite sundown before the start is made, since the brigade
is taking its turn on the left of the line; also the guarding of the
wagon train is committed to the brigade and in this somewhat arduous
duty the Thirty-ninth bears its part. Over roads, never conspicuous for
smoothness, now worse than ever, the troops and the train pick their
weary way till 3 a. m. of the 23rd, when White Plains is reached, a
distance of not more than eight miles from Middleburg, but a wearying
march nevertheless. It is pretty generally understood that both the
rebel and the Union armies are racing for the Rappahannock, and the
Federals have the inside track. The wagons are parked here, for mules
must, if men do not, rest, and those guarding have the privilege of a
bivouac for a short period, while the other troops have been resting a
large part of the night. Repose is enjoyed for about four hours when,
at seven o'clock in the morning, we are routed out and, two hours later
proceed on our route to Warrenton, some thirteen miles away, getting
there not far from five in the afternoon. Much to the astonishment of
the wearied marchers, a dress parade is ordered, and the men go through
the form, though they would much prefer to rest their tired bodies
prone upon the ground.
[Sidenote: JULY 25, '63]
Warrenton is one of the names which every one has heard, over and
over, ever since the beginning of the war, and all conclude that it
must have been a very interesting as well as beautiful place before
hostilities had marred its loveliness; the county seat of Fauquier
County it possesses all of the public buildings belonging to such a
place and betrays evidence of thrift, enterprise and culture. Secesh to
the core, the people prefer Southern currency, though they will also
take that of the North. In camp on a hill to the rear of Warrenton,
the 24th is spent, rations are drawn, letters written to the homeland,
and a big notch made in the stick of soldierly experience. With true
military routine a dress parade is had at seven o'clock, just for the
sake of maintaining the regimental altogethery feeling. Early in the
morning of the 25th march is resumed and continues through a dry, level
country, destitute alike of shade and water, the sun all of the time
giving indications of his heat rays; occasional halts do not negative
the fact that it is a long and tiresome march, on account of which many
a man would have been overcome by the heat had not all been thoroughly
acclimated in the vigorous drills of the preceding months. Thirteen
miles of desolation bring us to noon and Warrenton Junction and, best
of all, to the sight of water. The stream, though small and already
muddied by all sorts of animals in their efforts for drink, is none
the less sought with ardor by the thirsty men, who pronounce this the
dryest day in all their army experience.
Here is found a depot of supplies, the communication by rail and
steam with Washington being direct and regular so that commissary and
quartermaster stores are replenished; near by is the whole Army of the
Potomac, though there is every indication of going further on every
hand and, while seemingly in direst confusion, no one appeared to get
in another's way, convincing proof that some guiding power had all
these different lines well in hand. What a chance to visit this and
that friend in other regiments, an opportunity of which hundreds of
men availed themselves, and many a meeting here was the last in this
life. Making camp in a nearby grove, rest is sought, save as it is
interrupted by rations-drawing, until there comes the order to fall-in
once more, but by this time the men have learned that a certain amount
of leeway is to be allowed in these marching orders, and they do not
respond with all of their former alacrity. It is from this point that
Major Tremlett, accompanied by men from several companies, goes North
for the purpose of looking after recruits expected from conscripts and
substitutes. The second installment of this day's march really began
about 7 p. m. and continued possibly seven miles to Bealton Station,
on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. Lack of water had made the
morning's route hard to bear; nothing of the sort troubled that of the
evening, since a pelting rain beat upon the faces of the marchers,
filled the roads with mud and made the rivulets swelling torrents. With
a single exception this was the severest storm ever encountered by the
Thirty-ninth, that exception being the one when crossing the Occoquan
on the return of Washington after the surrender. It is one o'clock in
the morning of the 26th, that the regiment, though completely saturated
with rain, files into an open field, and finds such repose as it can
until the light of day.
FIRST ARMY CORPS.
It was here and on this day that the Eighth M. V. M., having
accompanied the Thirty-ninth in all of its wanderings from Maryland
Heights, took its leave of the Potomac army and, obedient to orders,
embarked at Warrenton Junction for Washington, its nine months' tour
of duty being long overpast, and a happy lot of soldiers they were,
with the prospect of a speedy return to their homes. Of course there
were the regular details for pickets, but the most of the regiment had
a chance to clean up and to rest after the exactions of the preceding
night. The departure of the Eighth caused the end of the Provisional
Brigade, under the command of General Briggs, the latter returning to
Washington, while the Thirty-ninth became a part of the First Brigade,
Second Division, First Army Corps, the division and corps being the
same as before; the other members of the brigade were the Thirteenth
Massachusetts, Sixteenth Maine, Ninety-fourth and One Hundred and
Fourth New York, and the One Hundred and Seventh Pennsylvania, the
Commander being Colonel Peter Lyle of the Ninetieth Pennsylvania
regiment. The dress parade at the close of this day was signalized by
a sequel to the bell crowned hats, already referred to, since a number
of the men in Woburn Company (K), wearing the obnoxious headgear and
otherwise grotesquely arrayed, appeared on the parade ground, exciting
the risibles of all beholders and securing for themselves a command
to report at the colonel's headquarters, where even his equanimity
was upset and, after a hearty laugh, he let the culprits off with a
reprimand and some extra policing about his tent.
[Sidenote: JULY 26, '63]
The sweet sleep to which the regiment commended itself at "Taps" was
interrupted at 11 p. m. by the command to "pack-up" and "fall-in" and
soon afterward the Thirty-ninth was marching southward, making the
best of the way alongside the railroad, not always careful to keep the
middle of the road, this being one of the lapses of Colonel Davis,
viz., that he was willing that the men should keep their feet dry if
possible. He had even excited the ire of General Briggs by insisting
that, when only keeping in line was the point at issue, his men should
march dry-shod, thus possibly accounting for the extra marching ability
of his men. Rappahannock Station, where the Orange and Alexandria
Railroad crosses the river, was the point aimed at, and very early in
the morning of the 27th it was reached, and the broken slumbers of
the preceding night were resumed for a brief period. The remainder of
the First Brigade was here along with several thousand cavalrymen.
The remaining days of July were spent in the camp established near
the banks of the Rappahannock, on an elevation overlooking the river.
There was nothing to disturb the general quiet of the place, though
Union soldiers picketed one side of the stream, a narrow one here, and
rebels the other. The railroad bridge had been destroyed and the coming
of a train load of pontoons, in the evening of Wednesday, the 29th,
called for a large detail of men from each company to unload them, a
rather heavy task, while showers, many of them very severe, made even
tent life anything but comfortable. Somewhere, in these meanderings, a
character of Company G won fame for himself in the aptness of his reply
to Captain Trull. As he fell in for dress parade, the Captain noticed
that the private's shoes were plastered with Virginia mud, and sent him
to his quarters to make them more presentable. Presently he returned
with the fronts of said shoes much improved, but the after portions
were as before. When asked by the irate Captain why he had not blacked
the heels as well as the front of his shoes, the witty fellow replied
that a good soldier never looked behind.
[Sidenote: AUG. 6, '63.]