TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
The three footnotes in the Catalogues (Chapters IX to XII) have
multiple anchors denoted by [A], [B] and [C]. These footnotes have
been left at the end of each relevant section, as in the original
text. The footnotes are listed here for easy reference:
[A] Taken prisoner at Fredericksburg.
[B] Taken prisoner at Chancellorsville.
[C] Taken prisoner at Gettysburg.
Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.
THE
“TWENTY-SEVENTH.”
_A REGIMENTAL HISTORY._
BY
WINTHROP D. SHELDON, A.M.,
LATE LIEUTENANT COMPANY H.
[Illustration: (Publisher colophon)]
NEW-HAVEN:
MORRIS & BENHAM.
1866.
TO THE
OFFICERS AND PRIVATE SOLDIERS
OF THE
TWENTY-SEVENTH REGIMENT CONN. VOLUNTEERS,
THIS MEMORIAL OF PATRIOTIC SERVICE
IS
RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. CAMP NEAR WASHINGTON, 9
II. TO THE FRONT, 17
III. FREDERICKSBURG, 22
IV. CAMP NEAR FALMOUTH, 33
V. CHANCELLORSVILLE, 43
VI. ON TO RICHMOND, 56
VII. GETTYSBURG, 71
VIII. IN MEMORIAM, 89
IX. RECORD OF CASUALTIES, 100
X. CATALOGUE OF COMMISSIONED OFFICERS, 115
XI. PROMOTIONS, 119
XII. CATALOGUE OF ENLISTED MEN, 123
FREDERICKSBURG,
December 13th, 1862.
CHANCELLORSVILLE,
May 1st, 2d, and 3d, 1863.
GETTYSBURG,
July 2d, 3d, and 4th, 1863.
THE
“TWENTY-SEVENTH”
CONN. VOLS.
CHAPTER I.
CAMP NEAR WASHINGTON.
“As by the west wind driven, the ocean waves
Dash forward on the far-resounding shore,
Wave upon wave: first curls the ruffled sea,
With whit’ning crests; anon with thundering roar
It breaks upon the beach, and, from the crags
Recoiling, flings in giant curves its head
Aloft, and tosses high the wild sea-spray,
Column on column--so the hosts of Greece
Poured ceaseless to the war.”
HOMER.
The campaign of the Twenty-seventh Regiment Connecticut Volunteers
began in the most critical and anxious period of the war against
the rebellion--the year 1862. After long months of diligent
preparation, the Army of the Potomac opened the year with its
first memorable advance against the rebel capital. The inspiring
faith of all loyal hearts followed every step of its progress up
the Peninsula, toward the stronghold of treason; and when the
shattered but undaunted remnants retreated down the James river,
and hurried to the defence of the national capital, menaced by
an exultant foe, deep was the disappointment which filled the
whole North. Every ear was strained to catch the result of the
conflict before Washington, only to hear that the rebels had been
partially successful, and were crossing the Potomac into Maryland
and Pennsylvania. Those were days of profound anxiety, but not of
weak irresolution. Each new disaster seemed to bring the people
nearer to a realization of the magnitude of the struggle, and nerve
them to fulfil the imperative duties of the hour. The President,
early in July, issued his Proclamation, calling for three hundred
thousand men, to serve for three years; and on the fourth of August
following summoned to the field three hundred thousand more, to
serve for nine months. The Twenty-seventh Regiment was organized
under this latter call. Its members were recruited from New-Haven
county, and mainly from the city of New-Haven, with considerable
numbers from Madison, Milford, Meriden, Wallingford, Branford,
Clinton, and Guilford, and still smaller quotas from other
neighboring towns.
The character and material of the regiment well illustrated
the heartiness with which all classes responded to the earnest
call of the President in those dark days of the Republic. Every
variety of condition and employment found representatives in the
Twenty-seventh. The agricultural population of the county responded
with a goodly number of the votaries of Ceres. Many of the most
respected and enterprising mechanics and business men of the
community laid aside for a season the implements of their labor to
join its ranks. Members of the press exchanged pen and type for
sword and bayonet. There were also several accomplished engineers
in the regiment, one of whom was detailed in that department, on
the staff of General W. S. Hancock, and had charge of the General’s
topographical maps and plans of battles. The public schools of the
city contributed one of their most esteemed teachers, who gave
his life on the field of Fredericksburg; and in the room where of
yore he so successfully led on his pupils from step to step in
knowledge, hangs his portrait, to them a daily-recurring lesson of
noble patriotism and self-devotion. Also the various professions
furnished of their members; and old Yale, never faithless to the
patriotic instincts of her Revolutionary sons, was represented
by several of her graduates and students, one of whom was a
color-bearer of the regiment at Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville,
and Gettysburg.
The first company went into camp at Camp Terry, New-Haven, in the
latter part of August, and by the middle of September the whole
number of companies were on the ground, with nearly a full quota
of men. Being technically a militia regiment, the choice of field
officers was vested in those of the line. Richard S. Bostwick, of
New-Haven, was elected Colonel; Henry C. Merwin, of the same place,
Lieutenant-Colonel; and Theodore Byxbee, of Meriden, Major; all of
whom, with a number of the company officers, had been connected
with the three-months volunteers at the beginning of the war. After
several weeks spent in perfecting the organization and equipment,
the regiment was mustered into the United States service, October
twenty-second, 1862, for the term of nine months, and started for
the field in the evening of that day, numbering eight hundred and
twenty-nine, rank and file.
Without stopping to dwell upon the passage to New-York, to Port
Monmouth, or upon the generous hospitality of the Quaker City, and
passing by the night journey to Baltimore, succeeded by a day’s
rest on the pavements of that city, the morning of the twenty-fifth
found us in Washington. Camp Seward, on Arlington Heights, is soon
reached, and quickly long rows of tents rear their white roofs
in General Lee’s peach orchard. Possibly in other days we should
have been summarily ejected by a grand charge of that gentleman’s
dusky retainers, or perhaps indicted in the courts for presuming
to trespass upon the domain of an F. F. V., and have paid dearly
to appease his injured feelings. But now the crowd of slaves is
dispersed, and “Massa Lee” is not there to dispute our right to
possession.
Our introduction to the Old Dominion would be incomplete unless the
foreground of the picture presented to view that bugbear, Virginia
mud, which has made and unmade so many Generals, and stopped the
wheels of the Army of the Potomac with periodical regularity. We
had hardly arrived at Camp Seward when the clouds began to marshal
their forces for an illustration of their power to change the
sacred soil into a sea of mud; and as if to show the minutiæ of the
forming process, it began to drizzle slowly; the mist gradually
enlarged into drops, and the soil grew softer and softer. As we
floundered about, we began to realize that the aforesaid mud was
not altogether a myth, conjured up by inefficient commanders to
excuse inaction. The storm continued at intervals during the
twenty-sixth, and, as night approached, a strong wind, superadded
to the pelting rain, swept howling over the ridge, tearing many
of our tents from their uncertain moorings. All, however, were
disposed to view philosophically this somewhat unceremonious
welcome to the soil of Virginia, and the hardships of a soldier’s
life.
At noon of the twenty-seventh the order came to strike tents,
preparatory to moving our camp a few miles up the Potomac. Late
in the day the march began. Crossing over into Georgetown, by the
Aqueduct Bridge, and following the picturesque course of the river
up to Chain Bridge, we return to the left bank, and bivouack for
the rest of the night around huge fires. The next morning Camp
Tuttle assumes a veritable existence, and here the Twenty-seventh
settle down to a month’s routine and drill, preliminary to the
rough experience of an actual campaign. Our camp was situated upon
a rising ground, from which could be seen the majestic dome of the
Capitol. Some distance in front of the parade, and on the left,
were thick woods, while the right was skirted by a road, across
which were encamped the Twenty-fourth and Twenty-eighth New-Jersey,
and the One Hundred and Twenty-seventh Pennsylvania, which, with
our own regiment, constituted a brigade of Abercrombie’s division
of the army, for the defence of Washington. As soon as the camp was
established in its new location, the Colonel issued a regimental
order, setting forth the programme of daily duty as follows:
Reveille at six A.M.; guard mounting at eight; company drill from
nine to eleven, and again from one to two; battalion drill from
three to four, and dress parade at five P.M.; tattoo at nine, taps
at half-past nine. All this was varied by an occasional season of
picket duty, a few miles up the Leesburg turnpike.
Our first Sabbath at Camp Tuttle forms, in most respects, a sample
of all the rest. Sunday is to the soldier the most anomalous day
of the calendar, especially if situated, as we were, without a
chaplain. The weekly inspection and freedom from drill are the
chief points which distinguish it from other days. In the present
instance, however, an unexpected cause of excitement appeared.
After dress parade, it was announced that in consequence of certain
rumored movements of the enemy in the direction of Leesburg, it
might be necessary to beat the long roll, to call the regiment
under arms at any moment during the night. Of course, the very
thought of a rebel added new zest to our military existence. Every
one was on the _qui vive_, and made his arrangements to respond
to the call with the utmost promptness. But the apprehended raid
did not take place, and our rest was therefore undisturbed by the
soul-stirring notes of the long roll.
Every few days a company was detailed to go on picket--an event
not altogether unwelcome, as a relief to the monotonous round of
camp duties, and as an introduction to a new phase of experience.
To obtain some idea of this portion of our regimental life around
Washington, let us “fall in,” fully armed and equipped, and follow
one of these parties to the picket-line. On the present occasion,
Company H, with detachments from other regiments, started out
one morning, and, after marching several miles on the Leesburg
Turnpike, arrived about ten o’clock at the village of Langley.
The line of pickets extended along the main road a short distance
beyond the centre of the place, and also along a cross-road, which,
coming up from the south, connects with the turnpike just before we
reach the village. Houses, favorably situated at different points,
were occupied as headquarters of the various squads, or, if such
conveniences were not at hand, brush huts supplied their place. At
that time Langley consisted of about a dozen houses, and one small
church, and had once been favored with two regular taverns, whose
sphere was now filled by two boarding-houses of minor importance,
one of which indicated its character to the public by the sign:
+---------------+
| |
| RESTER |
| ANT |
| |
+---------------+
The dinner hour having arrived, the pickets unanimously conclude
to set aside Uncle Sam’s homely fare, and take advantage of the
enlarged facilities of entertainment afforded by the village.
Accordingly they adjourn to one of the boarding-houses, kept by
a man of secession proclivities, whose principles, however, do
not interfere with his untiring efforts to please. Such houses of
refreshment, where a civilized meal could be obtained, situated
as they were here and there along the picket-line, added much to
the enjoyment of these brief excursions from camp. Our duties were
not very onerous, requiring the attention of each man two hours
out of every six, and consisted in seeing that no one passed along
the road, or appeared in the vicinity, without proper authority.
In good weather, the two days of picket duty, occurring once a
fortnight, were quite agreeable; but if stormy, they afforded good
material for the grumbling fraternity.
In view of the approach of winter, and the probability of remaining
in our present location for some time, it was thought best to make
corresponding preparations. Pine logs, with considerable labor,
were cut and brought in from the neighboring forest, and soon Camp
Tuttle began to present an air of comfort positively inviting.
But after only a brief enjoyment of our improved quarters, and as
if to remind us of the uncertainty always attending the soldier’s
life, orders came, November eighteenth, for Company H to strike
tents, pack up, and march over to Hall’s Hill, there to clear up
a place for the regimental encampment. Arriving on the hill in a
pelting rain, huge fires were built of the brush and stumps which
covered the ground, and by evening our tents were up, and we were
as comfortable as circumstances would allow. Hearing of several
deserted encampments about a mile distant, on Miner’s and Upton’s
Hills, many parties went out the next morning to secure anything
which might add to their convenience. A large barren plain was
covered far and wide with the huts and _débris_ of a portion of
McClellan’s army, which encamped here in the winter of 1862. The
whole presented a very curious and suggestive sight. Meanwhile,
orders came to strike tents and rejoin the regiment. It appeared
that all the regiments in the vicinity were ordered to prepare for
a rapid march. The Army of the Potomac had but recently crossed
the river, after the battle of Antietam, in pursuit of Lee, and
the enemy were said to be threatening General Sigel, in command
at Centreville. In view of this state of affairs, the reserve, in
the defences of Washington, was called upon to be ready for any
emergency. Returning to camp, we found the men earnestly canvassing
the nature of the contemplated march. The orders, however, were
countermanded in the evening, perhaps in consequence of a severe
storm, which continued for several days.