he sees, the following extract is taken from the journal of Lieutenant
Dusseault:--
[Sidenote: AUG. 18, '64]
"We turned out at 3 a. m. This was the day of the 'Battle of Weldon
Railroad,' sometimes called that of the 'Six Mile House' or the 'Globe
Tavern,' also 'Yellow House.' We began our march at five o'clock
towards the railroad, southwest and towards our left, a distance of
five or six miles to the 'Six Mile House,' it being just that distance
from Petersburg. Here we found the rebel pickets and drove them before
us. General Crawford's Division (Third), to which our Regiment
belonged, formed a line of battle on the right of the railroad, and
General Ayers of our Second Division formed on the left of the road.
General Griffin's First Division was in the rear, tearing up the
tracks as we thus advanced towards Petersburg. We had proceeded about
a mile and a half in dense woods, when Hill's Rebel Corps charged us.
The 'Six Mile House' is now behind us, Ayers' Division gives way,
letting the enemy in on our left flank. There is nothing for us to
do but fall back or be captured. The rebel line in front of us is
within forty feet. The order is given to fall back. All were lying
down flat on the ground at the time, the enemy in the same position,
but ready to shoot as fast as we stood up. Colonel C. L. Peirson was
already badly wounded in the bowels by a minie ball. He was able to
stand long enough to give the command and then he fell. Just as I
rose, a bullet struck me in the right side, broke the eighth rib and
entered the lower lobe of the lung. I was taken off the field, along
with the Colonel, to the field hospital just back of us. Sergeant
Bradshaw, afterwards second lieutenant, and Private Thomas, both of
Company H, were leading me and while thus supporting me, the latter
was shot in the wrist, in consequence of which, hesitating a moment,
he was captured. For a time I occupied the next cot to the Colonel's.
I heard the surgeon say that he could not live twenty-four hours. As I
remember, he was placed outside in a tent by himself to die. Three or
four hours later, when the surgeons looked in upon him they saw that
he had revived somewhat, and he was taken to the division hospital.
His life was long despaired of. Few men recovered from wounds of like
character received during the Civil War. As Major Tremlett was still
absent, the command devolved on Capt. F. R. Kingsley of Company E. Our
side was beaten for a time but, after being driven about a quarter of
a mile, the men reformed and held the foe."
Fred. Baker of Company H had joined the Regiment as a recruit in
February, 1864; he was on the skirmish line on August 18th, and, the
position being a pretty warm one, he had been digging a pit to get into
for cover. About the time that the hole had become large enough for him
to get into it, some rebel shot and killed him. He fell into the pit
and some of the others covered him with the earth which he had removed.
He had dug his own grave.
Dexter Gray of Company E, who had been a schoolmaster before the war,
was shot in the head; he was so paralyzed that he could neither speak
nor move. His comrades were preparing to bury him, thinking him dead.
He knew everything that was being done but he could make no sign to
them, neither could he help himself in the least. But just before
they were ready to bury him, he recovered sufficiently to make them
understand, and the burial was postponed for about twenty years.
Many years later, General Peirson, having been requested to give some
personal reminiscences to the Salem Evening News, under what he calls
his last battle, recites the story of his experience in the foregoing
18th of August. After some prefatory statements, the General proceeds:--
"General Grant's movements in that campaign were successively to the
left, and the order soon came for us to move to the left until we
crossed the Weldon Railroad, which was about the last remaining feeder
for the secession troops around Petersburg and Richmond. Arriving
there we began tearing up the rails for half a mile to pile up the dry
sleepers and put the iron rails on top of the cobpile and then firing
the sleepers, the rails by the heat and their own weight were rendered
worthless."[P]
[Sidenote: AUG. 18, '64]
"Moving through small trees, we came upon the enemy, who immediately
attacked. Our men were ordered to lie down, and to receive and return
the fire from their position. The commander cannot avail himself of
such protection, since the men are likely to be less homesick if they
see him apparently indifferent. Notwithstanding these precautions,
there were soon wounded men in plenty, the colonel being shot through
the body, falling at once upon his knees from the shock. Just at that
moment one of the lieutenants, Severand, from the left company of the
Regiment came up and reported, 'Everything is swept away from the
left.' He was ordered to go out to the left and investigate. He never
returned. I went then to that company and sent out the captain to make
the same investigation. He did not return. I then went out myself, and
meeting a secession soldier, remarked with some force, 'Drop that
gun and come in here.' He obeyed, not understanding that I had no
strength to compel him, and I learned from him that his troops had got
behind our left flank. This view was soon confirmed by the direction
from which the bullets came. I then gave orders, something like this,
'Fours, right about, forward on the left company, March' or words to
that effect, and the situation was saved.
"By that time, I was so much exhausted by the loss of blood that I was
carried to the rear, where there was a field hospital. When I met the
regimental surgeon who was my dear friend, I saw tears come into his
previously cheerful face, and I then knew that something serious had
happened. They gave me a little tent and some of the wounded officers
came to bid me good-bye. The major general, commanding the division,
hearing that one of his colonels had come to grief, sent an aide to
inquire what could be done for my comfort. From him I obtained an
ambulance. Our chaplain went with me, also a wounded soldier, who
died on the way, and we started for City Point, where were the main
hospitals of the army. In a few miles we came to a field hospital,
where I hoped to be allowed to remain, but the surgeon declined, I
thought brutally, to receive me, though I afterwards learned that
any other course would have been fatal to me. So we proceeded on our
long journey. Arriving at the splendidly equipped hospitals at City
Point, my wound was examined, the ball probed for, and found, and by
an operation extracted. Inflammation had by this time set in, and I
remained in a very dangerous state for many days.
"While I thus lay on my cot, the hospital was visited by some well
meaning but clumsy Christians, whose mission it was to supply the
patients with testaments and tracts. They, seeing me, stopped to urge
me, since I was so soon to meet my Creator, to turn from my evil ways
while there was yet time, and to read the instructive words with which
they burdened my couch. One of my friends afterwards said, though I
cannot vouch for the truth of the story, that I had only strength
enough to reply, 'Go to blazes.' However, I grew better slowly, was
sent North on a stretcher, and put to bed in Barton Square, where my
dear mother nursed me back to life. Some months after, when the war
had closed, I went into business on Kilby street, Boston. One day
there came into my office a well remembered soldier who proved to be
the captain of the left company. He gave the military salute, and
remarked, 'Colonel, I have come to report what I found on the left.'
It seems that coming upon a secession picket, they had captured him,
taken his weapons with most of his clothes, and persuaded him to
go through a course of southern prisons from which he had only just
returned."
Of the 19th, Lieutenant Dusseault has this to say, "The fight was
resumed. The rebels found a gap on our right and came through, thus
flanking us again. Our artillery opened on them as they were between
us and artillery, and the shells did us as much harm as they did the
enemy. The men of both sides were now pretty well mixed up in the
woods. Whichever squad was the larger would capture the other. This day
our Regiment was in the worst part of the line and suffered more than
any other, unless it was the Sixteenth Maine, which was captured almost
to a man."
In a paper read before the Massachusetts Military Historical Society,
December 13, 1880, Captain Charles H. Porter says of this day:--
"The morning opened dull and rainy, with the troops in good spirits.
No changes were made. The troops of their own accord strengthened the
field works, making them quite strong. Nothing happened until about
3 a. m., when the enemy showed considerable activity, the pickets
firing and showing quite a bold front. General Lee, determining to
drive us from the road sends two divisions under Heth and Mahone. The
former has four brigades with eight pieces of artillery from Pegram's
battalion. Six of the pieces are west of the railroad and two are
east of the same. Mahone has Weisiger's, Colquitt's and a part of
Clingman's brigades. Mahone has discovered that the right of the Fifth
Corps does not connect with anything. The Ninth Corps, which has been
ordered to fill the gap, has not yet reached its destination though
it is two o'clock p. m. Doubtless the extremely wet day prevented the
prompt arrival of the reinforcement. Our troops, finding everything
quiet and not expecting an attack, disposed of themselves in every
way, trying to keep as dry as possible, little thinking of the fate
in store for them. Four o'clock was the hour agreed upon by Heth and
Mahone, as the time when the flanking column should be in position and
almost to the minute, Mahone's troops reached our skirmish line and
drove it in. Then turning in the thick woods to the west, they moved
in column directly upon the exposed right flank of the Federals. This
exposed flank had been a subject of anxiety to General Warren, and he
had issued orders accordingly.
[Sidenote: AUG. 19, '64]
"While the Third Division was passing a quiet afternoon, the officers
at headquarters were informed that Heth was attacking vigorously in
front, this being principally against the Second Division. Our Third
Division is still undisturbed. The butchers of the division are
slaughtering cattle when the pickets of the Ninth Corps come tumbling
in, saying that the enemy is advancing upon them. The woods are so
very dense that nothing can be seen through them. Not even General
Warren, himself, can discern anything. When, however, a line of men is
discovered approaching, Warren is so sure that they are the delayed
Ninth Corps contingent, he will not allow artillery to open on them, a
very serious error on his part, for they are soon discovered to be a
portion of the flanking Confederates, and that a considerable part of
them is between our artillery and the Third Division. Our artillerists
spring to their guns at once and open a rapid fire upon them. How does
this act bear upon our Third Division, where the Thirty-ninth Regiment
is? The very first intimation that Crawford's men have that all is
not well with them, is the bursting of spherical case from the rear,
in their midst. They are aware that the artillery is massed behind
them, and they realize that something must have happened to bring
such firing from their own comrades. Now, the firing in front from
Heth and his men begins again, and our pickets are again attacked. It
becomes necessary to seek protection from our own thirty guns. The
men spring over the breastworks and hold them in reverse, thinking
the pickets able to check the attack in front, and that their chief
danger is from the rear. The suspense is soon broken when a line of
confederate infantry comes rushing in upon them. All is now confusion.
Without leaders, the men are completely demoralized. In the dark and
dismal woods, dismayed by the fire from our own guns, the men make
but a short resistance and this flanking column under Mahone captures
nearly two brigades of the Third Division. The attack of Heth in
front continues, adding to the confusion, but the rapid firing of our
artillery convinces the enemy that there is nothing more for them in
that direction, so they content themselves with the 2700 prisoners,
whom they have swept almost entirely from the Third Division, and move
up the Halifax road with more captives than they themselves number.
As they thus move away the captured men narrowly escape the fire of
Mahone's two cannon stationed on the east side of the railroad; the
gunners think so large an array of men in blue must be an attacking
party, but the condition is disclosed soon enough to prevent the
possible slaughter.
"Such men of the Third Division as have not been captured, seek safety
in every direction, each man for himself. Dodging behind trees,
now east, now west, some of the wrecked body of men get the true
direction and come out at the edge of the clearing, looking towards
our artillery. Here they behold a welcome sight. It is an advancing
line of the Ninth Corps, responding to the evident need. It is the
First Division of the Ninth Corps, composed largely of Massachusetts
men, and they are friends indeed. We know that, having the situation
well in hand, the position will be regained and the railroad held. The
remnants of the Third Division are finally rallied near the Dunlock
House. Picture, if you can, one little knot gathered together, about
twenty-five in number, all that, at this time, can be assembled of a
regiment that yesterday carried three hundred and fifty muskets into
the first day's fight, whose commander was most grievously wounded on
that day. They are soon marshaled to occupy, as far as they can, their
old line of works. Very few sleep any during the night, as the weary
hours roll on, and it seems as though daylight would never come to
bring relief to the dread hanging over the command through the night.
Mahone and his men retire to their defenses with feelings quite the
reverse of those of their opponents and the 'Little Gamecock of the
Confederacy' fully merits his appellation as he turns over his plunder
to General Lee."
An excellent personal story of the second day is told by Sergt. George
E. Fowle, Company K, whose experience quite likely was similar to that
of nearly all the men of the Regiment who succeeded in getting out of
the confusion, free:
[Sidenote: AUG. 19. '64]
"I was acting First Sergeant of Company K. Corporal S. A. McFeeley
was my bunkmate, and was one of the color guard. We were stationed
in the woods on the right of the railroad, where the rebels made
vigorous demonstrations on our front while a large force turned our
right flank. Our artillery was firing solid shot over our heads when
the enemy broke through and came between us and our cannon. The guns
were immediately depressed to reach the confederates and the shots
coming through them and reaching us were the first intimation we had
of anything wrong. McFeeley was sent back to stop the artillery and
was captured. The line was doubled up as the enemy came down on our
flank. I started back with the rest and came across a canteen with the
string cut; picking it up, I took a drink and filled my own canteen,
but when this was done I found myself alone, but I followed along in
the direction which the others had gone. I came to a cart path, where
I saw some of our men with a few Johnnies on the other side of the
path. The bushes separating us were so thick and low that I had to
spread them apart with my hands to get through, and when I did and
straightened up, with my gun in my hand, I found myself looking into
a rebel gun barrel, held by a Johnnie who was standing by the side of
an officer, whom I took to be a colonel. I was told to throw down the
gun, which I did and walked across the road where the officer took me
by the shoulder and turned me around, saying, 'Get into the ranks,
and we'll take good care of you.' There were so many prisoners that
we were in all sorts of position, one, two and three deep. The man
nearest me wanted to know where the Maryland Brigade was located.
"I unhitched my knapsack and turned around to see if anybody was
looking, and gave it a throw into the bushes. As I did so, I saw Joe
Adams, the National color bearer, come out into the road, look up and
down the same, and then he raised the colors over his head and threw
them into the wheel-ruts, there happened to be a break in the guards
near him. I threw off my scabbard and cut the strap which held my
cartridge box. We were nearing the railroad tracks, where the rebels
turned and marched up towards Petersburg. When I saw a good chance I
jumped into the bushes and soon heard someone behind me, and turning
saw Joe, Adams and another man. All this time we were getting more or
less missiles from our own guns; the solid shot had been changed to
shells and we were troubled quite as much as the confederates. We soon
encountered a rebel with a gun in his hand, just as a shell exploded
near our heads. To Adams' query as to where was the direction of the
rebel rear, he replied, 'I'll be d--d if I know.' At this, I left them
to see what I could do for myself in finding our own breastworks. In a
short time I came across a lieutenant of the Sixteenth Maine, who was
behind a tree, whereupon I found a tree also, but I didn't stop long,
since I was not gaining ground. We could see the prisoners and the
guard and occasionally a rebel would come our way.
"I started back towards our works, but on arriving found no one there,
so I sallied forth to where the right of the Regiment had been. Going
some distance beyond where our right was, I saw some troops mount
the breastworks. At first I couldn't make out who they were, blue or
gray, but, stooping down, I found them to be our men, and I recognized
Corporal Abijah Thompson, who beckoned me to come up his way. The
ground was covered with muskets, which had been thrown down when the
boys were captured. Colonel Wheelock of the Ninety-seventh New York,
then commanding his brigade, was up on the right, and seeing the
movement, he put his men in front of the works and charged out upon
the enemy, capturing everything in sight, Yank and Reb, including the
Colonel, who was going to take good care of me, a stand of confederate
colors and, best of all, our own which Adams had thrown down.[Q] The
state colors borne by Serg. William A. Mentzer of "A" were brought in
safely by him, though by great effort.
"On getting out of the woods into the field, there stood the First
Division of the Ninth Corps in line; I ran down and told General White
that the rebels had got our Brigade, and that they were on the road
in there, not ten rods from where he sat on his horse, and he could
get them all if he went in. The General turned around and said to one
of his staff, 'They have got the road we came down.' He was waiting
for orders from General Warren. It had been raining and I didn't
know whether the gun that I had picked up would go off or not, so I
pointed the muzzle towards the ground and fired. Whereupon the General
said, 'Don't you know any better than that?' I went back to the line,
borrowed some cartridges and caps and loaded the gun, when Colonel
Lyle and the remnant of the Brigade came out of the bushes. His
command resembled a color guard. A staff officer soon ordered me back
into the breastworks. I picked up a sergeant's knapsack and soon made
a set of sergeant's chevrons. Our company made two stacks of guns that
night, and I put my gun across the stacks, and was in command of the
company. Lieutenant Tidd and twenty-seven men of Company K were taken
prisoners. Our captain was sick and had been taken to the hospital."
[Sidenote: AUG. 20, '64]
Of Saturday, the 20th, Captain Porter remarks that it opened quite
pleasantly and that the sunlight, struggling through the clouds, was
cheering to the lonely feeling troops of the Third Division, those
that remained in line. The Ninth Corps had made a complete connection
with the right of our division and further danger in this direction
was obviated. This day the engineers of the Fifth Corps marked out a
new line of works to be occupied in the open, just in advance of the
Dunlock House, about three hundred yards north from the Six Mile House.
This line ran near the woods in which so great disaster had befallen
our troops. Our Third division occupied ground to the right, east of
the railroad, which still divided the forces of the Second Division.
The breastworks were heavily made and were quite impracticable for
an assault in front. The lines of the Fifth and Ninth Corps were
continuations of each other. All lines in advance of this new one were
abandoned in the afternoon and evening of the 20th. While there was
hard work in the trenches there was no engagement with the enemy. The
latter had by no means given up the recovery of the railroad and was
making plans for the morrow. The juncture of the Fifth and Ninth Corps,
leaving no aperture in that direction, his attention was necessarily
drawn towards the left. It was said that General Roger A. Pryor of
Virginia, conspicuous in ante-bellum days, by his altercation with John
F. Potter, a fellow Congressman from Wisconsin, who named bowie knives
as duelling weapons, having retired from active army service, in his
capacity of independent scout, had climbed a tree and from this outlook
discovered, as he thought, the vulnerableness of the Union left.
Hastening to impart his discovery to General Mahone, the latter made
plans for an attack on the 21st. With the details of this unsuccessful
effort to repeat the tactics of the 19th, we have no especial concern,
except to state that this time, Mahone carried back no prisoners and
reported no victory. Ayers and his First Division were quite ready to
receive callers.
Of this campaign of four days, General Warren says, "The heat of the
first day (18th) was excessive, and on the march many fell out who
are here reported among the missing, but who will soon rejoin us.
About fifty were completely prostrated by sunstroke. The men were
kept working night and day, and every day were wet through with the
rains. The side roads and fields were almost impassable for artillery."
However much the Confederates may have lamented the loss of the Weldon
Railroad as a supply source, and to them it was a grievous one, the
conditions brought about by these terrible battle days in August
remained unchanged to the end. Grant was taking no backward steps and
with the grip of a bulldog, whatever he grasped, he held.
[Sidenote: AUG. 22, '64]
The losses met by the Thirty-ninth were frightful. May 4th, when
the Regiment crossed the Rapidan there were five hundred and thirty
men in the ranks, fully twice the number in any other two regiments
in the Brigade. Since then we had received from the Twelfth and
Thirteenth Regiments two hundred and twenty-eight transfers, bringing
the aggregate to nearly eight hundred men, yet so severe had been the
tests of the Wilderness, Spottsylvania and the attacks on Petersburg,
including this most recent calamity on the Weldon Railroad, on the
morning of August 22d only one hundred and two enlisted men and nine
officers reported for duty. Of course, some would eventually report
from the missing, which included not alone prisoners and wounded,
but stragglers as well, still the fact remained that the swoop that
Malone made upon the First Brigade on that August afternoon came near
finishing it. Colonel Peirson was seriously wounded and in hospital;
Major Tremlett was away on detached service; Captain F. R. Kinsley
was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy and the command devolved
upon Captain George S. Nelson of Company A. We have already seen that
Company K stacked nine muskets, under command of a sergeant, the night
of the 19th; ten men were reported left in Company C, and "E" Company
had only seven or eight of the original number. Terrible are the
ravages of war.