A little after noon the regiment reached a position in the vicinity of
Spottsylvania, where details of men were given me and I was instructed
to go into the woods and establish a line of skirmishers in a favorable
location. We found the underbrush in these woods on fire, so using a
portion of the men to beat out the fire I placed the remainder on a line
which we occupied until the next day, when we were moved to another part
of the field. It was so difficult to keep my men awake that, in order to
avoid a surprise, I went along the line at frequent intervals during the
night, sometimes being obliged to wake up some of them.
While in front of Spottsylvania Court House I was in command of a force
that held the line of works on the road to that town. We were under fire
most of the day until, towards evening, the enemy retired. With the
desire to have my men get a little refreshment, I suggested that some
part of the men cook coffee while the others remained in the trenches in
line. There being no firewood I suggested that some rails be pulled out
of a breastwork that ran at right angles to one that we had been
occupying. On lifting these rails a man reported that he saw the body of
a Confederate soldier in the breastworks. I then had a considerable
portion of the breastworks uncovered, and found that they had placed in
them a number of dead Confederates and piled rails and dirt on top of
them, thus forming the breastwork behind which they had fought.
Reporting this on being relieved, I saw it afterward commented on in
some of the Northern papers.
It will be remembered that the battle of Spottsylvania was a very
sanguinary one, the enemy being strongly posted behind breastworks in a
rough-wooded country, and the assaults made on these works had cost our
army a loss of nearly twenty thousand men, killed and wounded. A night
or two before the army moved from there, I was called from my place in
the line of breastworks and directed to report at division headquarters.
On arriving there I was introduced to an officer who, I was told, was a
topographical engineer from army headquarters, and that I was to go with
him. It was a dark night with a drizzling rain falling. As we mounted
our horses he told me that I was selected to conduct a division later in
the night to a position from which they were to assault the enemy's
works, the attack to be made before daylight, hoping to surprise them,
previous assaults in the daytime having proved so disastrous to our men.
He stated that he wanted to have me familiarize myself thoroughly with
the ground where the division was to be placed in position for the
charge so that I could explain it to the general in command, and thus
avoid a chance of confusion among the troops and failure of the attack.
On hearing what was expected of me I was naturally greatly impressed
with the responsibility, fearing that if I made a mistake it might be
very disastrous in its results. We soon reached a small corduroy bridge,
about wide enough for a column of fours to cross, from which a roadway
passed through a piece of woods, as I remember it, a few rods, to a
clearing. We left our horses with our orderlies at this bridge and
walked till we came to the clearing. He told me that a few rods in front
the ground began to ascend, and farther up on this slope was the line of
works the division was to attack and attempt to surprise. He then walked
with me along the clearing to the right, explaining about how many yards
it extended in that direction from the opening by which we had entered,
and told me about how many could be placed in line there. We then
returned to the opening and walked to the left of it, where he explained
about how many men could be placed there. On our return to this road, I
suggested that we had better move up the hill a little more so that I
could familiarize myself with the character of the ground over which
the assault was to be made. This was done and we lay on the ground
where we could hear sounds from the enemy's lines. We then returned to
our horses. In my anxiety not to make a mistake, I suggested that we go
all over it again and that he let me show him the way in the manner I
was expected to direct the general, to make sure that I correctly
understood what I was to do. He assented to this, and at its conclusion
expressed himself as satisfied that I understood the duty assigned to
me. On the ride back to headquarters I think nothing was said. I was
naturally thinking over what would be the result of this night attack
and wondering whether I would ever see daylight again. Reaching
headquarters, this officer, whose name I never learned and whose face I
could not even recall, as it was dark the entire time I was with him,
told me I had better lie down and get a little sleep and that I would be
called when wanted. Then taking me by the hand he said, "Good-bye and
God bless you!" and withdrew.
When I awoke the sun was up, and upon inquiry I was informed that about
two o'clock in the morning a message was received from headquarters
countermanding the order for the assault. After the war, I read in some
of General Grant's writings that after assenting to this proposed
assault he was awake in his tent thinking over the prospects of its
success and decided that the chances in the darkness were against it.
Therefore, soon after midnight, he directed that the order for it be
countermanded. I assume that the contemplated assault was to include
other troops than the division I was detailed to accompany.
One night, while with my company in the breastworks, I was sent for and
informed by Colonel Raulston that General Burnside had requested him to
recommend an officer whom he could send to Washington to bring back with
him, at the earliest possible moment, some carbine ammunition for our
regiment, it being of a different calibre from that used by the other
regiments of the division, which were infantry. Colonel Raulston told me
he had decided to detail me for this duty and directed me to report to
General Burnside. I rode to the latter's headquarters, where he gave me
a letter to the War Department and one addressed to his wife. The latter
he requested me to mail in Washington, mail communication with the army
at that time having been temporarily cut off.
I started immediately in a dense fog for Belle Plain, riding all night,
and was obliged to procure a fresh horse in the morning at
Fredericksburg. I sailed from Belle Plain for Washington, arriving the
next morning, and as soon as the War Department opened for business I
presented my letters, and was informed that the necessary ammunition
would be placed on a tug which would be ready to sail for Belle Plain
that afternoon.
I was told that a permit had been given to the late Bishop McIlvaine, of
Ohio, and George H. Stuart, the president of the Christian Commission,
to go on the boat with me, they having been granted permission to go to
the front to look into the practical working of the United States
Christian Commission. When the tug sailed, I being the only United
States officer or soldier on board, Mr. Stuart introduced himself to me,
and then presented me to the Bishop. Later he came to me and said that
it was proposed to have a brief prayer-meeting in the cabin, at which
were present the Bishop, Mr. Stuart, and one or two representatives of
the Christian Commission, and a lady, who, I was told, had a pass from
Mr. Lincoln permitting her to go to the front to see her son, who was
wounded. It impressed me as an exceedingly pathetic and remarkable
incident, and I remember that, being brought up a Presbyterian, I was a
little curious to see whether the Bishop would read his prayers from the
prayer-book or would make one extemporaneously. He, however, made what
seemed to me then one of the most affecting and beautiful extempore
prayers I ever listened to. When the little steamboat reached Belle
Plain, the Bishop's party were put into an ambulance and had an escort
of a part of a regiment to take them to Fredericksburg, as the
intervening country was raided by Mosby's men and all wagon trains
between Belle Plain and Fredericksburg had to be heavily guarded.
No transportation being provided for me to take my ammunition to the
front, I took the responsibility of taking some wagons belonging to
General Potter's division, none of my own being available. I did this
without authority, but under stress of circumstances. When I got them
loaded I found it was impossible to start that afternoon, as no escort
could be furnished until the next morning. I concluded, however, the
General would be anxious to know that the ammunition was en route, and I
decided to start on alone for Fredericksburg. Putting my pistol in my
boot-leg, I started off in a very severe thunder-storm, and, keeping a
good lookout, rode to Fredericksburg without meeting any of the enemy's
roving cavalry.
That night I spent with Captain Corson, quartermaster of General Gregg's
division at Fredericksburg, and started the next morning for the front,
where I reported to General Crittenden when he might expect the first
wagons containing the ammunition, and then rode back to Fredericksburg
to hurry them forward. When I returned with the first two wagons the
regiment was in action, and I was obliged to get details of men to break
open the boxes and carry the cartridges in blankets to supply the men
along the line. I remember being verbally complimented for getting back
some twelve hours sooner than it was thought possible, and shortly
afterwards General Crittenden detailed me on his staff, but I declined
the position, as my men expected me to stay with them and I had
intimated that I would stay with them through the campaign. It was a few
days after this that I was commissioned captain.
I might add that I understood General Potter was very angry, as he
needed his wagons to bring commissary stores for his troops, and
proposed to prefer charges against me for unwarrantably taking them. If
he did so, I never heard anything from it. I took for granted that the
necessities of the case justified my action.