HATCHER’S RUN.
We know not what may be our lot,
When future days have crowned us;
There’s One above, whose arm of love,
We hope may e’er surround us.
Goodbye! We go to meet the foe,
The flag we love floats o’er us;
Its stars are bright, we’ll win the fight,
While treason falls before us.
_Lilly Lovette._
New Years day 1865 found the 32nd Mass. living in their log huts on the
Jerusalem plank road, one mile in rear of our line of works in front of
Petersburg. Here we worked building and strengthening our works, taking
turns so that the work went steadily on night and day. Thus we lived
until late in the afternoon of Feb. 4th, when we received orders to
move next morning at daybreak.
We imagined it was to be another railroad raid, and we left our huts
standing, expecting to return to them; but in this we were mistaken. We
started at daylight on the 5th, and marched all day, reaching Nottoway
courthouse about sunset. Here we camped, and pickets were sent out,
but were recalled at midnight, and we again took up our line of march,
arriving early in the morning at a stream called Hatcher’s run, at a
point where it crossed the Vaughn road, and where the Second corps had
fought the rebels the day before, while we were marching to re-enforce
them.
We were ordered into some rifle pits on the opposite side of the
stream, out of which the enemy had been driven. I will try to describe
my own experience in the battle that took place on February 6th, called
by some historians the battle of Dabney’s Mills, but known to us by the
name of Hatcher’s Run.
Our regiment was on the extreme right of the Fifth corps, connecting
with the Second corps. About two o’clock in the afternoon, Crawford’s
division advanced from our left across our front and engaged the
enemy. Two hours later the veteran brigade was called upon to fill a
gap in Crawford’s line.
We were in the rear, listening to the roar of battle, and pitying our
comrades fighting so desperately in front of us, not knowing what
moment our turn would come. General Warren sent an aid to General
Griffin, our brigade commander, with orders to bring us to the front.
The bugle blew the fall-in call, and away we went into the storm of
death. We marched left in front. When we reached the line engaged and
passed through, the order came,
“File left! Right face!”
Bringing us into line of battle.
“Forward, double quick!”
On we went, not firing a shot. As our ranks were thinned by the sharp
fire poured upon us,
“Close to the right!”
came the order, and we obeyed until we could go no farther, then came
our turn, and we settled down to business.
The locality of the fight was in a grove of pines, where we could not
see what was going on around us, and unknown to us, a fresh body of
rebel troops drove back our main line of battle, and we were left
alone. Before we fell back we saw a Johnnie Reb give a signal that he
wanted to come into our lines; in he came, and informed us that,
“You uns will have to get out of this right smart, for they are
putting the whole of Mahone’s division in front and on the flanks
of you uns!” And in a short time I thought the whole rebel army was
there!
Our little brigade was pushed back, fighting all the way, with heavy
loss. Our regiment lost 74 men in killed, wounded, and missing. The
155th Pennsylvania was on our right, and that too lost heavily. Here
Major Shepard was taken prisoner; the major, orderly of my company and
myself were on the extreme right, and were so busily engaged that we
did not notice that the line was falling back, until it was quite a
distance from us. I informed the major, and when we three started to
run, the rebs were not fifty feet away.
The major’s scabbard tripped him and he fell; I looked back over my
shoulder and saw a reb on each side of him, and knew he was a prisoner.
This lent wings to my feet, and I expected every moment to feel a hand
on my coat collar jerking me back, but I kept on, and the orderly and
I reached the edge of the woods to find an attempt was being made to
rally, in order to save an ammunition wagon from falling into the hands
of the enemy.
But the attempt was a failure; it was nearly dark, and some of the new
troops in the second line of battle, seeing us emerge from the woods,
took us to be the Johnnies, and fired into us. At least half a dozen
were killed or wounded by this volley, and this completed the disaster,
for no troops, veteran or not, could be expected to rally when attacked
on all sides, so we kept on until we reached our line of works.
Here we remained until the 11th, with the enemy’s artillery making it
very uncomfortable for us, then we moved to the rear about two miles,
and camped for the night. Next day our tents and knapsacks came from
our old camp, and we again began building our winter quarters. Here
on the 18th of February as I was building a chimney to my shanty, I
received a sergeant’s warrant dated the 4th, and on the 20th I acted as
sergeant of the guard for the first time.
On the 22nd we received orders to be ready to move at a moment’s
notice, and that no more furloughs were to be given, and everything
looked as though another fight was at hand, but we remained here until
the opening of the final campaign of the war.
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