THE FIGHTING FIRST
W. F. Fox, in his “Regimental Losses,” published in 1889, includes a
chapter entitled “The three hundred fighting regiments,” and his list
has subsequently become accepted as a semi-official roll-of-honor. Of
the more than two thousand regiments on the Union side during the Civil
War he found three hundred which lost over one hundred thirty each,
killed or died of wounds. While the number of casualties might not
always indicate fighting ability, or even fighting experience, still in
the long run the blood-marked trail of killed and wounded does surely
lead to where the battle was most severe.
Amongst the three hundred fighting regiments stands the 1st Mass. Vol.
Inf., three-year troops, another name for the Coast Artillery. Of our
various companies who went out during the three wars in which we have
participated, all losses by killed or died of wounds were confined to
those in the Civil War. No such casualties occurred in 1814 or in 1898.
The 3d Reg. lost 2, the one company in the 4th 1, the one company in the
13th 10, the single company in the 4th and 29th 5, the company in the
5th 4, the 42d 4, the 43d 3, or a total of 29. Of the regiments
officered by us, the 24th lost 92, and the 44th 10; but it is not fair
to reckon these as our casualties. In contrast with the total of 29, the
1st Mass. Vol. Inf. lost 144, besides 643 discharged for disease or
wounds. There can be no question but that our companies constituting the
1st Mass. Inf., the three-year regiment, deserve the appellation, “the
Fighting First.”
As soon as the regiment found that their services would not be accepted
for three months, they set to work preparing for a three-year
enlistment. Lt. Col. Burrell and others who could not go for the long
term organized themselves into a reserve or “depot” regiment. New
companies which had been added in April with a view to entering the
three months’ service brought the total up to ten; and these all gladly
entered into the three-year enlistment. The Chadwick Light Infantry,
named for Hon. Joseph H. Chadwick of Roxbury, a liberal contributor
toward the company expenses, became 2d Company in the regiment. The
Pulaski Guards, newcomers in the regiment, shifted from 9th to 4th
place. Members of the Chelsea Light Infantry, a 7th Regiment command
which had just been disbanded because of the disobedience of its
captain, resented the false position in which they were placed; and
hastened in a body, on April 19, to the State House where, with Gov.
Andrew himself presiding, they reorganized and forthwith received a
charter as the “Chelsea Volunteers.” This accomplished, the new unit at
once became the 5th Company in the 1st Regiment. While there had been
two 7th Companies within a month, both had gone off with other
regiments; and the vacant number was now filled by the North End True
Blues. The True Blues consisted of caulkers, gravers and riggers from
the ship-yards. They had begun their history many years previously as a
fire-engine company, and in 1832 had taken up military training. But it
was not until April, 1861, that they regularly connected themselves with
the militia. A newly organized Brookline company took the 8th place,
made vacant by the transfer of the Boston Artillery. The National
Guards, newcomers in the regiment but with a history running back to the
Mexican war, assumed the 9th number. And the Schouler Guards, named
after the popular Adjutant General of Massachusetts, became the 10th
Company.
Col. Cowdin remained in command, and speedily demonstrated that he was
as capable a leader in actual warfare as he had been during the years of
peace. One notable and somewhat unusual trait was discovered by his
associates--he never, under any circumstances, would permit a drop of
alcoholic liquor to pass his lips. George D. Wells, judge of the Boston
municipal court, went as Lieutenant Colonel, and soon gained the
reputation of excelling even his chief as a tactician. He afterward
became colonel of the 34th Mass. Inf., and was killed at Cedar Creek in
1864. Charles P. Chandler of the new 8th Company was chosen Major; and
was destined to die in battle a year later, at Glendale in the White Oak
Swamp. The company commanders were: 1st, Ebenezer W. Stone, Jr.; 2d,
Abiel G. Chamberlain, afterwards a colonel of colored troops; 3d, Henry
A. Snow, commander of the company as far back as 1849; 4th, Clark B.
Baldwin, afterwards Lt. Col.; 5th, Sumner Carruth, later Colonel of the
35th Mass. Inf.; 6th, Edward Pearl; 7th, Gardner Walker, who was to
succeed Chandler as Major; 8th, Edward A. Wild, later a Major of the 32d
Mass. Inf.; 9th, Alfred W. Adams; and 10th, Charles E. Rand. The 10th
was the only company destined to lose its commander in action, Capt.
Rand being killed at Chancellorsville, and by a singular fatality, his
successor, Capt. Moses H. Warren at Spotsylvania.
In consequence of the regiment’s prompt decision, they were able to be
mustered in as volunteers on May 25, 1861,--the first three-year
organization in the entire United States.
The regiment journeyed by rail from Boston and reached Washington on
June 15, the first long-term organization to arrive. Passing thru
Baltimore they were very cautious, having in mind the experience of
their comrades less than two months before. But the city was then
actually under complete Federal control.
Blackburn’s Ford, the preliminary skirmish of Bull Run, on July 18,
1861, first brought the regiment under fire. Lieut. Albert S. Austin
lost his revolver at this time;--judge of his pleasant surprise when, in
1896, receiving a package from a Confederate veteran, he opened it and
discovered the long-missing weapon. This revolver may now be seen in the
collection of the A. & H. Art. Co. Part of an army all of whose members
were inexperienced, it is greatly to their credit that they were chosen
as rear-guard of the retreating Federals after the main battle of Bull
Run, July 21. Perhaps it was because of the reputation gained here that
the 1st came to be frequently detailed to the responsible rear-guard
position. They served in this capacity during the change of base on the
Peninsula, and during the subsequent retreat from that district. They
covered the retreat of the army after Fredericksburg. But it is safe to
say that they were never more valuable as rear-guard than when at Bull
Run they steadily held their place behind the torrent of panic-stricken
fugitives and prevented the victors from pressing the pursuit. This
transpired during their first battle, when they had been less than three
months in the service.
Their gray militia uniforms in which the regiment went to war cost them
dearly at Blackburn’s Ford and Bull Run. Facing troops similarly
attired, Lieut. W. H. B. Smith of the 3d Company called out that he and
his men were from Massachusetts, thinking that he was talking to other
northern soldiers. But his words were greeted with a volley by which the
lieutenant lost his life. Later in the action a similar explanation by
Capt. Carruth of the 5th Company barely prevented a Michigan regiment
from firing on the First. Immediately after the battle new blue uniforms
were issued.
[Illustration]
Three weeks of garrison duty at Fort Albany, Washington, D. C., ensued,
when the regiment was drilled in the use of heavy artillery. August 13,
they were transferred to Bladensburg on the other side of Washington,
where they first came under the command, as part of the brigade, of Gen.
Hooker. Serving with him in succession as brigade, division, corps and
army commander, they always felt especially devoted to their chief. It
is no accident that Capt. Isaac P. Gragg of ours wrote in 1900 a book
affectionately tracing the careers and homes of Hooker’s ancestors. The
same veteran and his comrades bore a leading part in securing the Hooker
statue on the State House grounds, dedicated in 1903. In March, 1862,
the regiment received their “white diamond” badges, of which they were
always so proud, the Army of the Potomac then being organized into four
corps, and they forming part of the second division (Hooker’s) of the
third corps.
They were engaged in provost or garrison duty in Maryland during the
winter of ’61-’62, and were stationed during most of the time at Budd’s
Ferry.
From Yorktown to Spotsylvania, during two entire years, the regiment
bore the white flag of Massachusetts and had an honorable part in all
the battles of the Army of the Potomac, with the exception of South
Mountain and Antietam, which occurred while they were recuperating at
Washington. They were heavily engaged at Williamsburg, May 5, 1862,
where Hooker won the soubriquet, “Fighting Joe,” of which he was never
proud. Here also Col. Cowdin earned the brigadier-generalship, which was
tentatively awarded him Sept. 26, and of which he was eventually
deprived for political reasons. Col. Cowdin had the misfortune to be
antagonized by the Republican Governor of Massachusetts, and by the U.
S. Senators from the Commonwealth; the Senate refused to confirm his
appointment. The sword carried by Col. Cowdin at Williamsburg is today
in the Faneuil Hall armory of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery
Company. The regiment lost heavily at Fair Oakes, June 25, and Glendale,
June 30, when Major Charles P. Chandler was killed. Again suffering
severely at second Bull Run, Aug. 29, and Chantilly, Sept. 1, their
effective numbers were reduced to less than six hundred. It is a pointed
testimony to the high cost of military unpreparedness that many of the
brave men were incapacitated, not by wounds, but by preventable disease.
While Gen. George B. McClellan’s ability has been a subject of prolonged
controversy, the general never lacked for loyal and devoted support from
the members of the First.
Yorktown is historic ground. Going by water from Budd’s Ferry, the
regiment landed upon the same shore which Washington’s Continentals had
trodden eighty years earlier. Their progress thru the fields of yellow
broom was over ground rendered memorable by the Revolutionary heroes.
Near the present beautiful National cemetery and in sight of the present
charming Yorktown battle-monument stood a Confederate intrenchment which
occasioned annoyance to McClellan’s army. It had withstood two assaults,
and was in the way of the army’s advance. Lt. Col. Wells offered to take
the work; and his offer was accepted. Col. Wells had read American
history and knew how “Mad Anthony” Wayne achieved immortality; the
appeal now would be to cold steel. About 2 A. M. the 5th, 8th and 10th
companies were quietly awakened, the 5th to make the attack, and the
others to serve as supports. The men formed their line amid the silence
of the woods; and, at earliest dawn, heard their commander whisper,
“This is McClellan’s first order. The honor of Massachusetts is in your
keeping. Charge!” Across four hundred yards of miry, uneven ground they
advanced in the face of Confederate rifle fire. Arriving at the redoubt,
with a shout for old Massachusetts, they fired a single volley; and
completed their task with the bayonet. Just ten minutes after Col.
Wells’ command, the intrenchment was in Union hands. An old lithograph
of this action is to be seen in the museum of the Cadet Armory, Boston.
Four members of the 5th Company were here killed. April 26 was the date
of the assault; four days later the remains were sent north, and in due
time were received with a magnificent demonstration of honor in Chelsea.
One of the dead, Private Allen A. Kingsbury of Medfield, was specially
honored by the publication of a memorial biography.
The battle of Williamsburg was almost a private affair with Hooker’s
division. Williamsburg, the “cradle of the republic” and birthplace of
the American revolution, had once been a proud capital. It is today, and
always has been, noted for the warm-hearted hospitality of its citizens.
It was there that Washington earned his degree as civil engineer, and
there he wooed and won his bride. There Patrick Henry thundered forth
the brave words, “If that be treason, make the most of it.” And there
today the two sons of President John Tyler reside, one serving as county
judge and the other as president of “William and Mary College.” But so
early as 1862 the glory had departed, and the shabbiness which
accompanies slavery was dominant. There on May 5, 1862, amid the beeches
and sycamore trees about Fort Magruder Gen. Joseph E. Johnston halted
his retreat and engaged in a rear-guard action. His intrenchments were
shallow; but the pursuing Federal troops were few--only a single
division. Hence the fighting was severe. When finally the 1st Regiment
marched thru the town and up “Duke of Gloucester” St. in pursuit of the
broken Confederate column, they felt that they had fully earned their
laurels.
While most of the Union army went up the York river by boat, the 1st
Regiment made the journey on land. Altho the country was naturally
fertile and the climate of the best, a general seediness and “run down”
condition prevailed, so that it was like a desert to the weary, hungry
marchers. Finally the Williamsburg road brought the troops to Seven
Pines--the spot from whose tree-tops could be seen the spires of
Richmond, six miles away. Doubtless everyone has passed thru some
experience so terrible that it comes back in his moments of nightmare.
Seven Pines and Savage’s Station fill that rôle for veterans of the old
1st. Today a portion of the battle-field is a National cemetery, a
veritable God’s acre, sacred to the memory of the dead, melodious with
the voice of cat-bird and mocking-bird and the graceful killdeer. There
the magnolia grows to perfection and the luscious fig matures in the
summer sunshine. But this district, usually so dry and substantial, is
at the edge of the Chickahominy or White Oak Swamp. From May 31 to June
25, 1862, unusually severe rains swelled the Chickahominy and inundated
the surrounding country. Fortunately there are islands in the swamp,
places of partial refuge, to which our men resorted. McClellan’s plan
called for a junction with the army of Irvin McDowell about June 1, and
for a grand assault by the combined forces upon the Confederate
Johnston. For reasons which seemed adequate to the authorities in
Washington, notwithstanding the serious results for McClellan and his
army, McDowell was forbidden to march south and keep his appointment.
While McClellan waited, and while the floods refused to abate, the Army
of the Potomac was in a bad way. R. E. Lee, Johnston’s successor,
attacked nearly every day. Mosquitoes bit, and the result thereof was
malaria. Finally the ground was dug over and fought over so constantly
that there was time neither to care for the wounded nor bury the dead;
and a condition of horror ensued which surpasses all power of
description. Men actually had to sleep side by side with their dead
comrades,--comrades who had been dead for days. It is very easy to
understand why the Peninsular campaign developed into a retreat; a month
of such fighting was all that flesh and blood could endure. Not even the
issue of a whiskey ration, which commenced at this time, could
sufficiently blunt the soldiers’ senses--altho it did accomplish vast
moral damage. So when McClellan became convinced that he would not have
McDowell’s co-operation, he turned back; he could do nothing else.
It was easier in the north to organize new regiments with their numerous
openings for the appointment of officers, and with the enlisted men
starting military life on an equality rather than with some as veterans
and others as “rookies.” Nevertheless this system resulted in depleting
the older and more experienced regiments, and cost the government
millions of dollars in unnecessary expense. Massachusetts, by contrast
with other states, did recruit up her three-year regiments, and
endeavored to keep their ranks filled, even tho the later accessions had
to be given the privilege of taking discharges with their regiments at
the end of less than three years. Sept. 5, 1862, a large number of
recruits arrived, who had been enlisted by officers of the 1st in
Massachusetts, and who brought the companies once more up to one hundred
each. About the same time there was an exchange of prisoners, and the
men who returned from their unwilling residence in southern cities had
many interesting experiences to relate.
After the Peninsular campaign, as regiments became reduced in size to
not more than five hundred men, the government decided to economize by
dismissing the regimental bands, and substituting brigade bands. The
First bade regretful farewell to their musicians; this method of saving
money the men regarded as a mistake.
Much of the hard fighting done by the 1st Regiment took place within a
very limited area. Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Wilderness and
Spotsylvania all lie within a few square miles, and all can be visited
by automobile within half a day. Moreover a visitor cannot fail to be
impressed with the fact that these battle-fields seem to have been
selected so as to destroy the least possible amount of private property.
Outside of the actual city of Fredericksburg, the country is little
better than pine-barren, and contains few houses and not even much
cultivated land. Since we now know pines to be health-giving, and
well-drained sandy soil to be freest from disease germs, we can see how
this choice of battle-fields by the Army of the Potomac doubtless saved
lives as well as property. The climate too is free from extremes. But
the men of 1863 and 1864 did not appreciate these things; all that they
had time to notice were the dust and drought and heat and hunger and
hard fighting.
At Fredericksburg Gen. A. E. Burnside tried to march directly south
toward Richmond, crossing the Rappahannock on pontoon bridges. It was a
winter battle--the date was Dec. 13, 1862--with great discomfort and a
fair chance that wounded men would freeze to death. Fifer Bardeen tells
that one captain, Walker, trembled as he entered the battle--and Capt.
Walker was the bravest of the brave. Lee had every advantage of
position; the resulting disaster was inevitable.
About two months after Col. Cowdin’s promotion, as the regiment were
covering the retreat of the army from Fredericksburg, they were
introduced to their new colonel. Napoleon B. McLoughlin, in spite of his
French-Irish name, was a Vermont Yankee. He had entered the regular army
from the New York 7th, and at the time of his appointment to the
Colonelcy was a captain in the 6th U. S. Cavalry. He was respected and
well liked; but he always suffered from the fact that the men felt him
somewhat of an interloper. Capt. Baldwin of the 4th Company had become
Lt. Col. and by all rules of seniority should have been made Colonel.
However Col. McLoughlin held the esteem of his men, and made an
honorable record. His regular army strictness was beneficial to his new
command. On Feb. 9, 1863, two months after the arrival of the new
colonel, the regiment was subjected to an extremely rigid inspection;
and was pronounced one of the eleven best disciplined and most efficient
regiments of the one hundred fifty constituting the Army of the Potomac.
Chancellorsville, May 2 and 3, 1863, was the next great battle. Gen. J.
Hooker crossed the Rappahannock several miles above Fredericksburg and
tried to turn Lee’s left flank. Hooker unexpectedly came into collision
with Stonewall Jackson’s troops and instead of hurting Lee, almost
suffered the humiliation of seeing his own right flank crumpled up. At
the most critical moment of the Chancellorsville fight, Hooker was
wounded and the army left without a head. When O. O. Howard’s 11th corps
broke and ran (“started for Germany”), it was only the 1st Regiment and
other troops under Dan. Sickles who saved the Union army from
destruction. Their promptness in entering the breach in the lines, and
their stubborn courage in remaining there hour after hour, were all that
checked the on-rushing Confederates. At Chancellorsville the regiment
was for the first time serving under both of its best-loved commanders,
Gens. Hooker and Sickles.
On the night following Howard’s break, according to common belief
amongst the men, it fell to their fate to be the slayers of Gen.
“Stonewall” Jackson, one of the severest blows to the Confederate cause
during the entire war. The 6th and 10th Companies were on outpost when a
party of Confederate horsemen rode down the Plank Road toward their
lines. As a result of the volley then fired, Gen Jackson fell, the
identification being made complete by Sergt. Charles F. Ferguson of the
10th Company, who was a prisoner-of-war for a few minutes, and happened
to be close to the mounted officers when the fire was received. Ferguson
made his escape in the ensuing confusion. This event was merely an
accident of warfare, and entirely unpremeditated. While others claim to
have been the agents of Jackson’s removal, and altho the Southerners say
that their own men fired the fatal shots, still there is no good reason
for rejecting the contention of the 1st Regiment,--in fact the evidence
seems conclusive that our claim is valid.
The plain shaft which marks the spot where Jackson fell is a painful
reminder to men of the 1st. Returning a year later, at the opening of
the battle of the Wilderness, May 5 and 6, 1864, they were stationed
upon the very ground over which they had fought in ’63. And when, during
a lull in the fighting, they inspected their surroundings, they found
human bones and fragments of clothing sufficient to identify some of
their own regimental dead. The bodies of those slain at Chancellorsville
had never been buried. No wonder that men shuddered as they saw the
“buzzards” soaring over head.
Deep was the discouragement preceding Gettysburg. The failure at
Chancellorsville had been due to no fault of the men and left them
questioning whether they could ever meet Lee on favorable terms. They
were not fond of Meade. Their march thru Maryland and into Pennsylvania
was the most trying of the entire war. On June 25, 1863, after following
the muddy tow-path of the C. & O. Canal all day, only two footmen were
able to keep with the mounted officers until night-fall. Stragglers kept
coming in during the entire night. Then, at Gettysburg, on the July days
of 1863, July 1, 2, and 3, the tide finally turned, and the rebellion
began to ebb away.
[Illustration: THE SOUTH ARMORY, BOSTON
Page 133]
[Illustration: FORT MONROE IN 1861
Page 118]
Historians differ concerning the relative importance of the second
and third days at Gettysburg. Gen. Sheridan in 1880, and Gen. Longstreet
in 1902, and Capt. J. Long in his “Sixteenth Decisive Battle of the
World,” published in 1906, took the ground that the battle was won on
the second day, by Sickles and the third corps. Gen. Sickles had been
posted on low ground to the north of “Little Round Top.” Becoming
convinced that Longstreet was about to attack and crumple up the Union
left flank, just as Jackson had crushed the Union right at
Chancellorsville, he determined to prevent such a disaster by moving his
corps forward to the higher ground, running north from the Peach Orchard
along the Emmetsburg road. The 1st Mass. Inf., at the “Peter Rogers
house,” held the most advanced position of the entire army. As a
consequence Longstreet had no more than started when he unexpectedly
came upon Sickles’ men, where he found plenty to keep him busy and was
unable to crush anyone. At the day’s close the Union regiments were
compelled to fall back to Round Top. But meanwhile, by Longstreet’s own
admission, the Confederate plans had failed entirely and Lee had been
defeated. The gallant charge of the Virginians on the third day was only
a desperate final attempt by a beaten army, before commencing its
retreat. Near the Peter Rogers house, in 1886, was erected the
regimental monument of the First, a granite “white diamond,” bearing the
words, “On July 2, 1863, from 11 A. M. to 6.30 P. M., the First
Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, Lieut.-Col. Clark B. Baldwin
commanding, occupied this spot in support of its skirmish line 800 ft.
in advance. The Regiment subsequently took position in the brigade line
and was engaged until the close of the action. Casualties: Killed, 18;
Died of wounds, 9; Wounded, 80; Prisoners, 15; Total, 122.” But for
Sickles’ advanced stand with the third corps on July 2, there would not
have been a third day at Gettysburg. A model of the regimental monument
may be seen at the museum of the Loyal Legion in the Cadet Armory,
Boston.
Corporal Nathaniel M. Allen of the 6th Company was later awarded the
Congressional medal of honor for here bringing off the regimental colors
at the greatest personal risk, after the color sergeant had fallen. Col.
Baldwin and Adjutant Mudge were wounded. It was on this same day that
Lieut. James Doherty of the 10th Company steadied his men in the face of
a hot rifle fire, by calmly exercising them in the manual of arms.
Doherty was a character. A most gallant officer, he had risen from the
ranks and never lost his fellow feeling for the enlisted men. An
ex-sailor, he had the sailor’s vices. Once, in 1863, while passing thru
Baltimore, he became drunk, and tried to kill an officer of another
regiment. Had not Col. Baldwin seized a musket and clubbed Doherty over
the head, murder would have been done. In New York he was placed under
charges for telling his commanding general that he “lied.” But the
charges were never pressed; perhaps the accusation was true. At
Chancellorsville he was wounded in the finger by a bullet which managed
to wind itself about the bone. Doherty roundly cursed the enemy for
using defective lead. The brave lieutenant finally died in battle. A
well-loved member of the regiment, Corp. Albert A. Farnham of the 4th
Company, was taken prisoner at Gettysburg, and died in Richmond the 15th
of the following November, his death being due to dysentery caused by
insufficient and unsuitable food. His soldier’s hymn-book is in the
museum of the A. & H. Art. Co.
July 30 to Oct. 7, the regiment was one of four on provost duty in New
York City, guarding against further draft-riots, and preventing
conscripts from deserting. Here they resumed heavy artillery drill; and
incidentally became rested after the Gettysburg campaign.
A new commander directed the army in the Wilderness, Lieutenant General
U. S. Grant. The difference of men showed itself in the different
result. Altho the 1st, now under Gen. W. S. Hancock, and the other Union
regiments were handled as roughly in 1864 as they had been in 1863, when
they left the field of battle, it was to march southward past Lee’s
flank rather than northward toward security. Scrub oak and pine have
obliterated practically all traces of the great fight. But men can never
forget that the Wilderness proved that the tide had turned, and marked a
long step toward the downfall of the Confederacy.
Spotsylvania was a continuation of the Wilderness with the fighting
increased, if possible, in ferocity. On May 12, the culminating day at
the “bloody angle,” the 1st Regiment was heavily engaged for the last
time in its career. During the morning it acted as provost guard
immediately behind the firing line, with orders to permit no one to pass
to the rear excepting wounded men. In the afternoon it was advanced into
the very thickest of the conflict and assigned the task of covering part
of the Confederate line with a curtain of fire. Here both armies
intrenched, and charged each other’s earthworks. The fighting was amid
tangled underbrush wherein one could see only a few feet ahead; at such
short range the bullet gave way to the bayonet and even to the clubbed
rifle. When the combat continued after darkness had fallen, the fighting
increased in intensity. Someone had to yield--Lee retreated. The apples
which today grow at the bloody angle should be redder and the corn
should bear more red ears, for they grow on sacred soil once crimson
with the life-blood of heroes.
As they approached the completion of their enlistment the 1st Regiment
were stationed with the reserves. Here, on May 19, they took part in
their last engagement, at Anderson’s Plantation, on the road to
Fredericksburg--and home. R. S. Ewell’s corps of Confederates came
around Grant’s right flank and attempted to cut communications with the
north and to capture the wagon-trains. A brigade of heavy artillery
regiments fresh from the defenses of Washington were acting as
convoy--one of them being the 1st Mass. Heavy Artillery from Salem. Here
the Salem men have erected their regimental monument. The heavy
artillery had seen but little fighting; but they now stood up like
veterans and drove back an entire corps. Unfortunately the Confederates
were taking some of the wagons with them as they drew back; and it
remained for the 1st Inf. and their companions in the brigade, some
1,200 in all, to rush to the rescue and recover the lost train. While
both 1st Mass. regiments--the Art. and the Inf.--were equally brave, the
1st Inf. had learned by long experience to make use of “cover,” to
shelter themselves behind trees, stones and earthworks. It was largely
this skill that enabled them to stop the panic and save the Union army
at Chancellorsville. Now, on this less important field, it saved Grant’s
wagons from capture.
Then came the welcome order to return to Boston and be mustered out.
A great reception awaited the regiment in Boston. Gen. Cowdin was grand
marshal of the parade, and all Boston came to extend the hand of
welcome. Gen. Cowdin had been honored that year by election as Captain
of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, and of course was
loyally supported by this command in all the exercises connected with
the reception. Another ex-Colonel of the regiment, Gen. Walter E.
Lombard in 1916, was similarly to be honored by America’s oldest
military organization. A grim pathos obtruded itself upon the spirit of
the festivities; for of the 1,651 men who had gone to war, only 494 were
present on May 25, 1864, to be mustered out. The command had been in
twenty general actions; and nine of its seventy-one officers had been
killed. It marched 1,263 miles, travelled by rail 1,325 miles, and on
transports 724. The regiment gave three general officers to the army,
and ninety-one other officers to sister regiments.
A number of noted clergymen have at times held the office of chaplain of
the command. Applying the standards which control the selection of names
for the volume, “Who’s Who,” amongst the distinguished chaplains would
certainly have to be mentioned Otis A. Skinner, the noted journalist and
preacher, 1850-’55; Thomas B. Thayer, the writer, 1858-’61; Jacob M.
Manning, the lecturer, 1862-’63; Lewis B. Bates, father of ex-Gov.
Bates, 1868-’72; Alonzo H. Quint, the ecclesiastical statesman,
1872-’76; William H. H. (“Adirondack”) Murray, devotee of horses and
woodcraft, 1873-’76; Minot J. Savage, author and poet, 1883-’96; and
Edward A. Horton, the orator, Chaplain of the Mass. State Senate,
1896-1900. Preeminent among them stands the name of the war chaplain,
Warren H. Cudworth, 1861-’72, ’76-’82. Chaplain Cudworth possesses the
added distinction that he was the historian of the “Fighting First.”
Warren H. Cudworth had graduated from Harvard in 1850; and represented
the finest type of American culture. If size of hat indicates mental
caliber, his chapeau, sacredly preserved at the Soldiers’ Home, Chelsea,
proves him to have been an intellectual giant. For it is number seven
and one-half. Since 1852 he had been pastor of the Unitarian “Church of
Our Father” in East Boston. A bachelor, and of independent means
financially, he was able to prove his patriotism before receiving
appointment as chaplain by announcing to his church that, if he should
not secure the appointment, he would give his salary as minister to
maintain work among the soldiers. The church had raised a fund for the
erection of a new house of worship; this the pastor urged them not to
spend as intended, but to devote the money to the welfare of the Union
soldiers. When appointed, he gave himself unreservedly to the duties of
the office; and absented himself from his regiment only once, for a
single week of Aug., ’61, during the entire three years.
While not a “fighting chaplain” as some were, he was in every sense a
brave soldier and true gentleman. Believing that the better American one
is, the better American soldier he is, Cudworth both preached and
exemplified this part of his creed.
His Massachusetts pride revealed itself in his comments upon the
inferior standards of living and comfort as one progressed southward.
His scholarly interest in history and science kept showing thruout all
his writings. Bladensburg is noted as the field of the disastrous
militia defeat in 1814; there is no glossing over the uncomfortable
facts. Bladensburg is also the duelling-ground where Commodore Barron
killed Decatur in 1820. A scientific observer, he comments upon the
excellence of the spring water. At Yorktown the regiment was encamped on
historic ground, where Washington’s tents had stood, and Cornwallis
surrendered, in 1781. But he somehow fails to note there the oldest
custom-house in America. One is reminded of high-school days to hear him
commenting upon McClellan’s bridges over the Chickahominy--that they
were exact reproductions of Cæsar’s famous span across the Rhine.
Cudworth comments appreciatively upon the notable past of the Fairfax
family, so influential in moulding the career of George Washington; of
the Chancellors; and even records facts about Prince Frederick, father
of George III, after whom Fredericksburg was named. Fossils and other
geological remains unearthed by regimental well-diggers on the Peninsula
interest him.
But his chief interest was in men and their welfare. The degradation
which he saw occasioned by slavery brought sorrow to his heart. The
untidy appearance of Williamsburg and other Virginia towns--a
consequence of slavery--impressed him, as it does the visitor today.
None rejoiced more than he over the issuance of the emancipation
proclamation on Jan. 1, 1863, and he felt that such a clear
pronouncement for justice and righteousness was more potent than many
victories. At Williamsburg he commented on the generous hospitality of
the southerners; he was also amused by quaint epitaphs in the old Bruton
parish cemetery. At the close of the Peninsular campaign he manifested
his social interest by commenting that the army was then existing in
accordance with ideal industrial conditions--eight hours daily for work,
eight for rest, and eight for recreation. When a whiskey ration was
instituted in 1862, he deplored the resultant moral evils.
Such a chaplain would do everything possible for the welfare of the men.
During the first leisure season in the regiment’s existence, that in
1861 at Budd’s Ferry, he organized a chess club which conducted exciting
tournaments; a literary institute or debating society named after Mayor
Frank B. Fay of Chelsea; and a large temperance society bearing the name
of their total-abstinence Colonel, Cowdin, which enrolled nearly two
hundred soldiers on its pledge, and had fully one-third of the regiment
“on the water wagon.” The chaplain’s tent was indeed the social center
of the camp. Most important of all was his religious organization. The
Y. M. C. A. had not then been introduced; so the chaplain devised an
association, which he termed “The Church of the First Regiment.” Their
admirable covenant, by which they existed, “You now solemnly covenant,
in the presence of God and these your fellow-soldiers, that you will
endeavor, by the help of grace, to walk in all the ordinances of the
gospel blameless, adorning your Christian profession by a holy life and
a godly conversation,” has received much unsolicited praise; and has
afforded an inspiring model for other military chaplains.
Chaplain Cudworth was idolized by the men. They affectionately called
him “Holy Jo”; and he accepted the title as a mark of affection,
stipulating however that they must never pervert it into “unholy Jo.”
Fifer Bardeen of the 1st Company tells how, in a New York barber-shop,
he thrilled the crowd by a narrative of his own supposed heroism in
battle, all suggested by a boyhood scar on his head. After he had told
enough “whoppers” to set himself up as a hero, he glanced into the
mirror and was thunderstruck to see “Holy Jo” occupying the next chair
but one. The chaplain knew Bardeen well, and also knew just how true the
yarn was not. But under the circumstances he showed his real self by
utterly failing to recognize or embarrass the youthful hero. No wonder
that Bardeen later wrote concerning the chaplain, “He was a good man, a
patriot and a Christian, ready to pray with you at the proper time but
never obtruding his piety, and always ready to help you in any way.
There was no other officer in the regiment who approached him for
genuine manhood of the highest type.”
Chaplain Cudworth’s passing was in keeping with the rest of his life.
His death was that of a Christian soldier. It happened on Thanksgiving
day, 1883, while the Chaplain was participating in a union observance
of the day held in a neighbor church, the “Maverick Congregational” of
East Boston. As he was standing beside the pulpit in the very act of
offering public prayer, suddenly he was heard to exclaim in pain, “I
cannot go on.” Before others could reach him, he fell to the floor,
dead.