IN THE WILDERNESS.
In that valley down there, where the wild ivies creep,
The night birds stand sentry o’er comrades asleep,
Their graves are now sunken, the headboards decayed,
And the trenches are crumbled, where fought our brigade.
Through rifts in the forest, if your vision is keen,
The breastworks we builded, can dimly be seen.
_M. B. Duffie._
General Grant now took command of the army, and on April 30th 1864, we
broke camp at Liberty, and began the hardest, most bloody campaign of
the war. Our division gathered near Rappahannock Station; crossed the
river for the fifteenth time, and marched to Brandy Station, marching
almost constantly. We crossed the Rapidan at Germania Ford, marched
all the next day, camping at night in the Wilderness, very near the
enemy. May 5th we threw up earthworks, but at noon advanced, leaving
our works to other troops. We were soon heavily engaged, and so began
Bloody May.
From this time forward, day and night, marching, fighting, digging
earthworks, there was no rest for us. From losses in battle, and from
sickness, our regiment again dwindled down to a company in numbers.
On May 8th we supported the 5th Massachusetts battery, with some pretty
smart fighting. On the 9th we again went to the front, and threw up
works, behind which we kept pretty close most of the day. Sharpshooters
were plenty in the rebel lines, not far from us. One of my company,
George Erskine, who was near me in the works, sat on a cracker box, and
turned his head to speak to me, thereby exposing himself a little, and
as I was looking at him, I saw a bullet strike the side of his head, go
through it, and strike the ground. He gave one sigh, and fell dead at
my feet. It was the work of a rebel sharpshooter.
A little later in the day, the orderly sergeant asked--
“Who will go out on the skirmish line?”
The skirmish line was about a third of a mile in front of us, and to
reach it, one had to run the gauntlet, for the enemy had a fair view of
the whole field, and they improved it, you may be sure.
Several comrades volunteered, and went under a sharp fire. I felt a
little ashamed of myself for not going too, so I said to my chum,
“If he calls for more, I am going!”
“I go if you do,” said dear old Dwight, and soon the word came again,
“Who will volunteer?”
“I will go for one!” Said I, and Dwight said the same.
Over the works we went, the minie balls singing and zipping at us as we
made our best time over that open field. We reached the line all right,
and settled down to business.
After a time I found my ammunition was getting low, and by the time it
was all gone, it was growing dark, so that we could move round with
less danger, for we could not show ourselves without drawing the fire
of the sharpshooters, so at dark I went round among the dead, and took
all the ammunition I could find, and began again where I left off.
We remained within two hundred yards of the enemy’s works all night.
During the night, our officers sent us plenty of ammunition, and
informed us that we were to charge at noon next day, and that we were
to fall into line as they advanced, but for some reason, the expected
charge was delayed.
[Illustration]