the Fifth Corps from the Wilderness, the night of the 7th of May, and
our running into Longstreet's corps, then under General Anderson. The
rebels were behind, hastily erected breast works and were ready for us.
We advanced across an open field and suffered much from the rifle fire.
When near the works, I was hit in the abdomen. Throwing down my gun,
I made my way back across the field, over the dead and dying, and lay
down under a tree in front of a house. As this was early in the morning
of the 8th, I don't think there were many other wounded men there then,
but later others came. Sometime in the forenoon, a lady came out of the
house and asked me if I was badly hurt. She also said that she was from
New Jersey. It seems as though she said the place was the Laurel Hill
farm, though I understand it is known in history as the Alsop farm.
The next day came the ambulances, tents and other outfit of the Fifth
Corps. I should like to go there some day and have a look at the place
where I expected to give up my life. I carried the ball in my body for
months and have it now. I never rejoined the Regiment."
We owe much to Colonel Peirson's recollections of the service of the
Regiment, but in this affair at Alsop's he fails to recount a story
remembered by McDonald of "B," who says that in the company was a tall
Scotchman, Hunter by name, much inclined to stoop and, for this reason
was frequently enjoined by the critical Lieut. Colonel to take "the
position of a soldier." In the advance of this trying Sunday, Robert
was stooping as usual when a bullet went through his cap. When the ball
was over and the opportunity came, Hunter sought the officer and,
holding up his headgear, remarked, "Now, look at that; if I had ta'en
the position of a so'ger, be G-d, that ball wud a gone thru' my heed."
R. W. Hall of "F" recites an interesting experience of this 8th of May,
"I had penetrated the abatis in front of the Rebs and was unable to
extricate myself in time, when our boys fell back, and with about one
hundred and fifty others was taken prisoner, but I never saw the inside
of a rebel prison, as Sheridan in his great raid overtook us toward
evening of the following day at Beaver Dam Station on the Virginia
Central Railroad, where we were waiting. How plainly I can see General
Custer and another cavalryman in the lead, when they dashed down the
road as we were about to take the train for Richmond. Of course we had
to keep up with the cavalry during the raid and to dodge the Rebs who,
in small squads, contested the way. Their General Stuart was killed or
mortally wounded, May 11th, at the Yellow Tavern, in a very hot fight.
After several days' rapid marching, we came out at Malvern Hill, on the
James. The gunboats took us for Rebs and gave us several shots. City
Point, on the other side of the river, was not so very far away and
thence we ex-prisoners took a transport for Alexandria, where we were
re-equipped and sent to the front as guard for a supply-train of the
Ninth Corps. When Nelson and I reported for duty the surprise we gave
our comrades may be imagined."
[Sidenote: MAY 8, '64]
The 8th was a bloody day for the Thirty-ninth, the summary of losses
revealing ninety-three killed, wounded and missing. Lieutenant
Dusseault was wounded in the breast but an army button diverted the
bullet. As he wrote in his diary, "I was within thirty feet of the
enemy's works, and when I was hit, I was sure I was killed, as the
force of the blow caused me to spin round and round like a top, and
I fell to the ground. Finding I was not seriously hurt, I jumped up
and joined in the retreat. When we got back, we found Captain W. C.
Kinsley of Company K in tears; 'Look at my company!' he cried, 'Only
seven men left out of eighty-seven!' But he was assured that the woods
were full of our men and that his would be in shortly. It proved to be
so. We were not called on for the rest of the day, and that night we
obtained some sleep."
During the closing hours of the 8th, there was digging for the Fifth
Corps and the early hours of the 9th found the hard worked soldiers
still using the shovel; the night and the following day showing no less
than three distinct efforts in this direction for the Thirty-ninth,
a record in which the stories of the Sixteenth Maine and Thirteenth
Massachusetts accord. Of the day itself and the new positions of the
several corps, Colonel Peirson remarks, "The 9th was another hot and
dusty day, and the Fifth and Sixth Corps occupied it in pressing the
enemy and developing his position, seeking points of assault. The enemy
were still passing down during the morning the Parker's Store Road, in
dangerous proximity to our right and rear, and Hancock's Second Corps
was at 10 a. m. moved into position on Warren's right, making lines of
battle along the crest commanding the valley of the Po, the artillery
shelling the rebel trains which were in sight, causing them to take a
more sheltered road." The new position of the opposing forces might
be stated, briefly: from the northwest to the southeast, a distance
of two miles, were Hancock and his Second Corps at the right, next to
Warren and the Fifth; then Sedgwick with the Sixth; and at the extreme
Union left, Burnside and the Ninth Corps. At the rebel right was Hill's
Corps, now under Early; the extreme left was held by Longstreet's men,
under Anderson; and the intermediate distance, including the famous
Salient, was occupied by Ewell's Corps.
The event of the 9th which emphasized it in the annals of the campaign
was the death of Sedgwick, Commander of the Sixth Corps. Since the
fall of Reynolds at Gettysburg, no similar misfortune had befallen
the army of equal importance; universally respected, all but idolized
by his own men, his very presence at any time was worth whole brigades
to the cause he loved. "While standing behind an outer line of works,
personally superintending and directing, as was his custom, the posting
of a battery of artillery at an angle which he regarded of great
importance, he was shot through the head by a rebel sharpshooter, and
died instantly. Never had such a gloom rested upon the whole army
on account of the death of one man as came over it when the heavy
tidings passed along the lines that General Sedgwick was killed." He
was Connecticut born, West Point, 1837, having as classmates, Hooker,
E. D. Townsend, and Wm. H. French, late Commander of the Third Corps,
all of the Union Army; while his rebel fellows included Braxton Bragg,
Pemberton of Vicksburg fame, and one might wonder whether Jubal Early,
over at the rebel right, had a twinge of sadness over the summary
taking off of the man who, in earlier times, had stood by his side
on the West Point parade ground. Born in 1813, Sedgwick was not yet
fifty-one years old when sought by the enemy's bullet.
[Sidenote: MAY 9, '64]
Some of the besetments of army life and duty at this time are well
set forth in the story that Lieutenant Dusseault, of Company H, tells
of his efforts to replenish the supply of ammunition for the brigade:
"That same night--and it was a dark one too--I was detailed to go back
to the ordnance train for ammunition. I had sixty men from the five
different regiments of our Brigade to help me. I was ordered to bring
25,000 rounds (twenty-five boxes). We had secured the requisite amount
and were returning to the brigade in the thick darkness. As it took two
men to carry a box, which was supported on a blanket between them, it
was impossible to keep the men together, and as I did not know them,
many of them dropped their burdens and ran away. When we got back to
our camping place, we found that the brigade had moved on a mile and
a half further. When I came to my superior officer, I had but seven
boxes to deliver to him. Rousing from his sleep, he ordered me to go
back immediately and secure the rest, and then turned over and went to
sleep again. It had to be done and at about two or three o'clock in the
morning I reported the second time, not with the lost boxes, but with
enough others that had been obtained in a way which I will not stop to
explain."
May 10th adds another day to the long battle list of 1864; while a part
of the Spottsylvania encounter, it bears to those who had a part, the
sub-title of "Laurel Hill," the location being in the same vicinity
as that of Sunday's fight at Alsop's Farm, possibly somewhat further
towards the south. While there was fighting along the entire line, of
that portion of the same in which we are directly interested, Swinton,
in his history of the Army of the Potomac, says:--
"The point against which the attack was designed to be made was a
hill held by the enemy in front of Warren's line. This was perhaps
the most formidable point along the enemy's whole front. Its densely
wooded crest was crowned by earthworks, while the approach, which was
swept by artillery and musketry fire, was rendered more difficult
and hazardous by a heavy growth of low cedars, mostly dead, the
long bayonet-like branches of which, interlaced and pointing in all
directions, presented an almost impassable barrier to the advance of a
line of battle. The attack of this position had already been essayed
during the day by troops of the Second and Fifth Corps, and with most
unpromising results. When Hancock's divisions joined the Fifth, an
assault was made by the troops of both corps at five o'clock; but it
met a bloody repulse. The men struggled bravely against an impossible
task, and even entered the enemy's breastworks at one or two points;
but they soon wavered and fell back in confusion and great slaughter.
Notwithstanding the disastrous upshot of this assault, the experience
of which had taught the troops that the work assigned them was really
hopeless, a second assault was ordered, an hour after the failure of
the first. The repulse of this was even more complete than that of
the former effort. The loss in the two attacks was between five and
six thousand, while it is doubtful whether the enemy lost as many
hundreds. Among the killed was Brigadier General Rice[M] of the Fifth
Corps, distinguished for his intrepid bearing on many fields."
This was the day, when at the left of the Fifth Corps a portion of the
Sixth was more successful, yet even its fruits were not held. General
Emory Upton of the First Division, Second Brigade, in a vigorous charge
carried the enemy's first line of intrenchments, capturing nine hundred
prisoners and several guns. This attack, however, was unsupported and
the advantage could not be maintained, so that at nightfall Upton
withdrew and the captured guns were left behind. General Meade ascribed
the failure of the movement to the lack of expected support from Mott's
Division of the Second Corps on his left. The reports of Generals
Meade and Warren add nothing to the foregoing while Lieutenant Colonel
Peirson particularizes as follows:--
[Sidenote: MAY 10, '64]
"The ground in front of the Laurel Hill position was swept by the
enemy's artillery, and our men suffered severely from it. In our own
Regiment, we lost several men, killed by the falling limbs of the huge
pine trees cut off by the enemy's artillery fire. One of our men was
pinned to the ground by one of these limbs, so near to the enemy's
line, that, when we retreated, as we did upon receiving a terrific
musketry fire at point blank range, he was the only one who saw that
after the volley the enemy ran as fast as we did, but in the opposite
direction. They soon returned, however, and captured the observer.
At some points our troops even entered the breastworks, but the men
though brave were easily discouraged, and the long continued strain
and fatigue told upon their spirit; and while they would defend their
position to the last, or retire in the face of heavy odds with the
utmost coolness, the fact remains that the men of the Second and Fifth
Corps were not as ambitious on the 10th, as they had been on the 6th
and 8th of May."
While the Ninth Corps, General Burnside, did no severe fighting on the
10th, the day nevertheless was significant in Bay State records through
the death of General Thomas G. Stevenson, commanding the First Division
of that Corps. Born in Boston, February 3, 1836, he early displayed
a bent for military matters and at the outbreak of the Rebellion
commanded a battalion of militia in Boston harbor. At the head of the
Twenty-fourth Massachusetts Infantry, he accompanied the Burnside
Expedition to North Carolina, winning laurels everywhere. On the return
of Burnside from the Southwest, Stevenson who already had won his star,
was made commander as above and like Rice and Sedgwick is supposed to
have been the victim of a sharpshooter.
While Colonel Peirson has given us a deal of information concerning
the beginning of the Battle Summer, he says nothing of the fact that
he had, himself, a narrow escape from death. Colonel Theodore Lyman,
in his diary, writes of a visit made by himself and General Peirson to
these scenes, and has this to offer on his observations:--
"A few hundred yards to the right of where this attack was made, we
visited the patch of pine woods, where, on the 10th, Peirson's brigade
again advanced to the attack. The brigade advanced to within about one
hundred yards of the works, and then began firing in the thick woods,
being exposed to a tremendous artillery enfilade, whose marks still
remained in the fallen timber. Peirson said he ordered his men to
cease firing, finding few balls coming the other way, but got an order
from the brigade commander to open again. Then Peirson was knocked
senseless by a shell."
Concerning the injury to Colonel Peirson, Lieut. Dusseault of "H" has
this version:--
"On the 10th of May at Laurel Hill, our men were lying flat upon the
ground, under the enfilading fire of artillery from the left and the
direct fire of musketry from the front. As an officer of Company H,
I had been trying to get up into the line a private of that company
who was lying forty or fifty yards behind it. I had tired of exposing
myself in the endeavor and had left him and taken my place in the
line. At about that time, Lieutenant Colonel Peirson, who was walking
back and forth, erect, as was his custom, saw him and went back to get
him up into his place. I went back to help him. We had succeeded in
getting him up to within eight or ten feet of the line. The Lieutenant
Colonel who was within two feet of me, had his sword in his hand,
both arms extended, and was leaning forward a little, when a piece
of a shell came between his arms and his body, ripped out the breast
of his coat, smashed his field glasses in their case, and jammed the
hilt of his sword. He doubled up, fell forward on his head, and then
over sideways. Colonel Davis, who was standing eight or ten feet in
our rear, asked, 'Lieutenant, is he dead?' and I answered, 'Yes.' I
called two men of my company and told them to take him to the rear.
They turned him over upon his back, one taking hold of him near the
head, and the other by the feet. When they commenced to raise him, his
eyes began to blink and he answered the question which had been asked
three or four minutes earlier by Colonel Davis, saying, 'No. I guess
it isn't much.' He was sent back to the hospital and was very sick
there, but he rejoined the Regiment on the 9th of June. Lieutenant
Colonel Peirson was strictly a temperance man, but he carried a flask
of brandy for emergencies, and he had requested some of the officers
to give some to him if he should be hurt. It happened that the shell
cut off the lower half of the flask and it fell in front of Private
Richardson of Company A. A few drops remained in the flask which
Richardson immediately drained, saying, 'They are throwing good brandy
at us.'"
[Sidenote: MAY 10, '64]
Of this same event, one of the men of "A" writes, "One piece of shell
wounded Colonel Peirson, ripping off a row of buttons from his coat.
I picked them up and divided them with the boys. I have one left now.
Salem Richardson got the bottom of the Colonel's brandy flask, which
was shot away by the same bit of shell, and I wish you could have seen
him empty it." The same incident is called up by S. H. Mitchell, also
of Company A, whose members evidently were keeping their commander
under observation. The flask was carried against an emergency, when
it might be of great utility. It offered no resistance whatever to the
Confederate missile but Comrade Richardson always averred that the
coming of the drink was most opportune. From the story of the Sixteenth
Maine, it is learned that this day the brigade was temporarily assigned
to the First Division, General Cutler commanding. The Second brigade
was placed in the Third Division, under Crawford, and the Third was
made independent to report directly to General Warren, these changes
being induced, supposedly, on account of the heavy losses and the
wounding of the commanding officer, General Robinson.
Possibly the doings of the 11th can be described no better than by
copying the record as made at the time by John S. Beck, "Rested all day
to-day, if you can call it rest, for we were in a mudhole, out of the
range of Rebel shells. Our brigade looks small; drew rations; raining
hard, everything wet through, no blankets or shelter tents. I should
have been sick were it not for the excitement of battle. Our position
here looks dubious, as we have to fight the enemy behind concealed
breastworks and in dense woods. To-night we lay down on the wet ground
with an old, wet, woolen blanket which I picked up." Considering that
this rain was the first since crossing the Rapidan, it really was a
comfort even if it did make some, for the time, unpleasantly wet. The
11th is noteworthy from another fact, viz., that it is on this day
that Grant telegraphs to Washington the prominent features of the
campaign thus far, that reinforcements would be encouraging, and that
he purposes "to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer."
Thursday, the 12th of May, is the day of the dread "Salient" or the
"Bloody Angle" of Spottsylvania. Had our Regiment been with Barlow's
men of the Second Corps, or with the Vermont Brigade of the Sixth, the
mortality record of the Thirty-ninth might have been far different,
though all participants in any portion of this bloody field have ever
thought their losses severe enough. The vision of that First Division
of the Second Corps, in the morning mists emerging from the woods at
the Union left centre, and with determined rush, "a narrow front, but
extending back as far as the eye could see," seeking the Confederate
works, is one that memory needs no assistance in recalling. Through
wonderful good fortune for us, the artillery of the enemy had been
withdrawn and the guns which might have cut wide swaths through that
disordered mass of blue, were hastening back, arriving just in time to
be captured, the assault resulting in the capture of General Edward
Johnson's Division of Ewell's Corps, including the commander, with
twenty pieces of artillery and thirty stands of colors. But this did
not end the day. So furious was the foe over the loss of men, munitions
and position, that the struggle for reinstatement became possibly the
fiercest and most deadly of the entire war. Once at least, the bayonet
became a weapon of real contact. Here it was that the large oak tree
was actually cut down by bullets from both sides. The ground, at the
margin of the works, was covered with piles of the dead, and for twenty
hours the battle raged, until the wearied rebels withdrew, unable to
retake the lines lost in the morning.
In this rapid survey, no mention is made of the Sixth and Ninth Corps,
but each one accomplished the task assigned, nor was the Fifth by any
means idle. Inferring from the forces pressing upon Hancock in his
endeavor to hold advantage of the early morning, that the enemy must
be withdrawing his right and left to assist his centre, both Burnside
and Warren were ordered forward. Warren obeying, advanced at something
after nine o'clock, but was repulsed, "for Longstreet's corps was
holding its intrenchments in force." Of this in his report, Warren says:
[Sidenote: MAY 12, '64]
"The enemy's direct and flank fire was too destructive. Lost very
heavily. The enemy continuing to fire on the Second and Sixth Corps, I
was compelled to withdraw Griffin's and Cutler's divisions (First and
Fourth) and send them to the support where they again became engaged.
My whole front was held by Crawford's Division (Third) and Kitching's
and the Maryland Brigades, presenting a line of battle not as strong
as a single line. The enemy made no serious attempt to force it.
My divisions on the left were relieved during the night from their
position, and returned to the right in the morning, having been kept
awake nearly all the night, which was rainy."
A graphic picture of the work of the Brigade is painted by Adjutant
Small of the Sixteenth Maine in his history of the Regiment, and a
portion of it is reproduced here:
"The men, thoroughly exhausted, would lie at length on the cool,
fresh earth, some of the timid ones hugging the bottom of the trench,
painfully expressing the dread of something to come. And yet these
timid ones, at the first rebel yell, would over and 'at them,' or
draw bead on some venturesome Johnnie, and shout with derision if he
was made to dodge. If they dropped him, a grim look of satisfaction,
shaded with pity, passed over their dirty faces. The quiet was almost
unbearable, the heat in the trenches intolerable, and rain, which
commenced falling, was most welcome. Time dragged. We had not the
slightest hint of what was developing. The rebels seemed very far
off and trouble ominously near. From the right came an aide, and,
quietly passing down the line of works, he dropped a word to this
and that colonel; only a ripple, and all was again suspiciously
still. 'What was it, Colonel?' asked the adjutant. The Colonel made
no reply but simply pointed up the hill. Soon he took out his watch
and looked anxiously to the right. Suddenly a commotion ran down the
line, followed by the command, 'Attention! Forward, double quick!'
On went the Brigade with a yell which was echoed by thousands of
throats in front and was thrown back by the double columns in our
rear. Down from the rebel right thundered shot and shell, making
great gaps in our ranks, while on swept the Brigade, until suddenly
loomed up in our front, three lines of works--literally a tier, one
above another,--bristling with rifles ready aimed for our reception.
There was lead enough to still every heart that was present, and yet,
when sheets of flame shot out in our faces, scarcely a dozen of the
Regiment were hit. Then men tore wildly at the abatis, and rushed on
only to fall back or die. Again and again did the Brigade charge,
and as often came those terrible sheets of flame in our faces, while
solid shot and shell enfiladed our ranks. The crash which followed
the fearful blaze swept away men, as the coming wind would sweep away
the leaves from the laurel overhead.... Just as the last charge of
ammunition was rammed home, relief came, when the Brigade retired
to the works in the rear, to learn that it was not expected of the
Brigade to carry the works, only to hold a strong force of the
enemy, while Hancock carried the lines in his front, which were more
favorably situated for a successful attack."
It was in the trying scenes of this exacting effort that Major Leavitt,
of the Sixteenth, so endeared by his manly character, received the
wound from which he died on the 30th instant in Washington. His was
a nature too broad and brave to be confined to the limits of his own
Regiment. "None knew him but to love him."
How the day seemed to a Company C man appears in his diary entry for
the day: "Still damp, wet and rainy; the day opened with an advance of
the Second Corps under Hancock, who carried the enemy's front line of
breastworks and captured a division of the rebels and their General,
Johnson. We were soon on the move to support our First Division in
a general charge and were soon into it, hot and heavy. The enemy
soon had another enfilading fire of grape and canister on us, and we
could do nothing. Edward Ireland was killed by a solid shot and Henry
Ireland was wounded in the arm. Soon after being withdrawn to the
rear, we were sent to the left to support the Sixth Corps, and lay in
a line of rifle-pits about two hours, when again we advanced through
the woods and joined the Sixth Corps on the right, where we lay all
the afternoon. We heard our folks pouring shells into the enemy from
mortars. We turned in for the night, resting on our arms, wet through
to the skin."
[Sidenote: MAY 13, '64]