CHANCELLORSVILLE, TO WINTER CAMP OF 1863-1864.
General Hooker had conceived a corps formation of all the cavalry of
the Army of the Potomac, instead of scattering it by details among the
various corps and divisions where its usefulness was frittered away;
and where it was generally out-numbered and beaten by the enemy, who
had consolidated their cavalry forces long before.
The spring campaign of 1863 was opened on April thirteenth by the
departure of General Stoneman with ten thousand cavalry for the upper
fords of the Rappahannock which he was to cross, turning the enemy's
left, destroying the railroads and severing his connection with
Richmond. But the cavalry moved so cautiously, or leisurely, that they
consumed three days in marching twenty-five miles to the ford, where
they were overtaken by a heavy rain-storm, which swelled the river so
they could not cross and did not do so until the twenty-ninth at Ely's
Ford, along with infantry and artillery. Before the crossing was
accomplished all chance of a surprise was lost and the large cavalry
force was able to inflict only trifling damage on the enemy's
communications.
I was ordered to issue eight days' short rations to the brigade, which
the men were obliged to stow away in their haversacks and knapsacks as
best they could, besides some extra rounds of ammunition in addition
to that in their cartridge boxes. Thus, loaded up more heavily than
ever before, without any wagon-train (except to carry ammunition and
forage) and without any regimental baggage or tents for officers, the
army began its march on April twenty-seventh. General Hooker had
divided the army into two parts: the Fifth, Eleventh and Twelfth Corps
marched to Chancellorsville above Fredericksburg, by way of Kelly's
Ford on the Rappahannock and the Germanna and Ely's Ford on the
Rapidan river: the First and Sixth Corps were to cross the
Rappahannock below Fredericksburg; the Third Corps was held in
reserve, but a few days later was sent to Chancellorsville where
General Hooker himself was in command.
The Fifth Corps supply train remained in camp about three days longer
and then was ordered to the United States Ford at the Rappahannock,
where the wagons were parked on the high ground on the north side
overlooking the river and pontoon bridge. The opposite side of the
river was a mass of woods and tangled brush, a wilderness so far as
eye could reach. We could plainly hear the firing on the other side of
the river and sometimes observe the smoke of battle rising above the
trees. We heard Jackson's onslaught on the unfortunate Eleventh Corps
on May second, and General Sickles's midnight battle. The fighting on
Sunday, May third, seemed near the river. The white canvas covers of
our wagons must have been visible to the Rebels, for one morning at
daylight I was awakened by shells from a section of a Rebel battery on
the south side of the river, crashing through our train and exploding
in the woods beyond. They struck only one of my wagons before they
were quickly silenced by one of our batteries nearby.
On the morning of May fourth, I was ordered to issue a day's rations
to the brigade, and as no supply wagons were allowed to cross the
river, they were to be packed on mules. Neither Lieutenant Greeley,
the wagonmaster, nor I understood anything about packing mules.
Fortunately we discovered a few men among the teamsters who had had
some experience in that line; but we had no pack-saddles. We used the
teamsters' riding saddles, as far as they went, and on the remainder
of the mules we strapped blankets. We selected three or four dozen of
the most docile animals from the train and loaded each one with two
boxes of hardtack weighing about fifty pounds apiece, slung across his
back, one box on either side. Others we loaded with sacks of bacon and
bags of coffee and sugar. But the mules were as green at the business
as we were, and most of them resented their treatment vigorously. When
we succeeded in getting the load on them, they tried to roll it off,
which disarranged it so we had to strap it on all over again, a man
holding each mule to keep him from lying down.
After hours of labor, ill temper and strong language, I was at last
ready to make a start with a detail from the train guard, one man to
lead each pair of mules and a few extra men--teamsters--who best
understood the packing. It was an odd-looking procession, in front of
which I rode down the hill towards the pontoon bridge over the river,
amidst the laughter and mirth of the spectators, and I wished that
Lieutenant Greeley were leading the procession instead of me. Before I
had gone fifty yards trouble began again. Through bad packing, some of
the loads shifted forward on the mules' necks when going down hill;
some of the animals fell and would not get up again with their loads
on; they seemed to prefer to roll down the hill the rest of the way.
All this delayed me very much and it was well past noon when the troop
had passed the bridge and entered the woods on the other side.
I was instructed to follow the United States Ford road until I came to
an intersecting road about two miles or more away, near which the
Fifth Corps was posted. The road was level and shady and I got along
fairly well, until I reached a short piece of road which skirted a
ravine, lined with our troops behind breast-works. Here my little
train must have been observed by the enemy, as the road was higher at
this point than the breast-works, for they opened on us with some
guns, before we had all passed this exposed spot. There was confusion
at once. The men leading the mules rushed into the woods with them on
the right side of the road. Only a few shots were fired and no damage
done; but it took me more than an hour to gather the train again and
re-pack the mules that had stripped their burden in going through the
brushwood. At last I found my command and issued the rations. It was
an hour or more until sun-down, and I deemed it best to wait until
dark to return, so as not run the gauntlet of the Rebel battery again,
and sought out my regiment, which was stationed parallel to the Ely
Ford road behind log breast-works which had been constructed the
previous night. I learned from my comrades that Captain S. S. Marsh
was the only man killed on May first and that twenty or more men had
been wounded on that and subsequent days. Just about sun-down I saw
General Hooker, followed by some of his staff, walking very slowly
down the road behind the breast-works. The General had been injured
the previous day (and could not ride a horse, I believe) at the
Chancellor house from a contusion caused by a cannon shot which struck
a veranda pillar near which he had been standing. He was a fine and
impressive figure, walking slowly, bare-headed, carrying his hat in
his hand. Shortly after, I returned with my train of mules and reached
the camp without further trouble.
The next day passed with little firing heard at the front. On the
following day, May fifth, all the supply trains were ordered to return
to their old camps near Fredericksburg. We started on the return march
in the afternoon. Towards evening a rain-storm came on, such as I have
seldom witnessed; it seemed like a cloud-burst--the rain came down in
sheets. In a few minutes my riding boots, which reached almost to my
knees, were filled with water and were over-flowing. The storm still
raged when we reached our camp. During this night the army retreated
across the Rappahannock, Sykes's regulars again covering the retreat
and being the last to cross about eight o'clock next morning,
unmolested by the enemy. The pontoon bridges were immediately taken up
under the menacing protection of our batteries on the hills, and for
the third time the army marched back to its old camps.
Historians agree that General Hooker's plan for an offensive battle
was masterly and skillful, and everything pointed to success until, on
the first day of May, after he had advanced to within a few miles of
Banks' Ford and had but two divisions of the enemy confronting him, he
suddenly decided to fight a defensive battle and marched back to
Chancellorsville to take up an inferior and more perilous position
with one of his flanks in the air. From that time on, it is said, his
conduct was faulty and feeble, and the corps commanders despised his
generalship. The army was forced to retreat, not because it was
beaten, as at Fredericksburg under Burnside--it had not even been all
engaged at Chancellorsville--but through the weak and vacillating
conduct of its commander.
Coincident with the return of the army from Chancellorsville, its
numbers were considerably reduced by the expiration of service of a
number of men who had been enlisted for two years only. Few recruits
joined, enlistments in the Northern states had fallen off alarmingly,
and the enforcement of a draft began to be talked of. This was the
darkest period of the rebellion for the Union, and an exultant one for
the Confederacy. Among the regiments which we lost in our Third
Brigade was the Fifth New York Volunteers, known as the Duryee
Zouaves. About two hundred of the men who originally left New York in
1861 were now discharged and had left for home, their departure much
regretted by the regulars, with whom they had served so long and so
creditably. General Sykes complimented them highly in the general
order for their departure. The remainder of this regiment, composed of
three-year men, was transferred to the One Hundred and Forty-sixth New
York Volunteers serving in the same brigade, and the Fifth New York
Volunteers ceased to exist.
The two armies confronted each other for weeks in their former
positions and the dreary camp life went on without any interesting
events. We continued watching each other, until General Lee took the
initiative on the third of June by sending some of General
Longstreet's Corps to Culpeper, preparatory to his contemplated
invasion of the North. Our cavalry, much reduced in numbers and now
commanded by General Pleasonton, was ordered to make a reconnaissance
in that direction, and on June eighth had a successful encounter with
the enemy's cavalry at Brandy Station.
All became activity again in the Army of the Potomac. The march began
on the tenth, some corps leaving on different days and by divers
routes. The Fifth Corps left on the fourteenth, following the familiar
route by way of Bealton, Warrenton and Manassas on the Orange and
Alexandria Railroad, which we had traversed the previous year on our
way to reinforce Pope. Then we inclined toward the Blue Ridge, where
the Rebel Army was marching north through the Shenandoah Valley, and
at Aldie we began to hear firing, as our cavalry skirmished with the
enemy at the mountain gaps of the valley. We passed Leesburg on our
way to Edwards Ferry, where we crossed the Potomac on a pontoon bridge
into Maryland and arrived near Frederick City about the twenty-seventh
of June. The weather was very hot and we made long marches. I issued
rations several times while on the march and re-filled the empty
wagons at Manassas. The route of the train was not always the same as
that of the troops and we did some night marching to make up for lost
time at Manassas.
Some-one had given me a puppy, while in the winter camp near
Fredericksburg, which I had raised. He was then more than six months
old, and was much attached to me, following me on the march. When
tired, he would beg to be lifted up and ride on the saddle in front of
me. He hated to swim across streams which we forded and insisted on
crossing them on horse-back. When we arrived at the Monocacy river,
which we forded a few miles from Frederick City, our supply train,
which had partly passed, was stopped to allow a battery of our
artillery to cross ahead of the balance of the train. The river was
several feet deep, had a swift current and a gravelly bottom. I sat on
my horse on the river-bank, watching the battery cross, and listening
to the crunching noise the heavy wheels made in the stony river-bed,
when something about our train on the other side caused me to plunge
in hastily and cross without paying any attention to my dog, who had
his forepaws on my stirrup and was waiting to be pulled up. I heard
him bark behind me, and when I had crossed I turned around and saw him
swimming after me; but the current carried him toward one of the
passing gun carriages. He disappeared for a moment among the wheels
and then came up on the other side, emitting unearthly yells. He
succeeded in reaching the shore, and when he left the water I noticed
that all but a few inches of his tail had been pinched off. He gave me
a reproachful look and started up a road like a streak. I galloped
after him, calling and coaxing him, but he ran on howling and paid no
attention to me. After chasing him for half a mile, he ran into a
thicket where I could not follow. I never saw him again. I felt very
sorry to lose him.
We remained at Frederick City for two days, receiving and issuing
rations. There was some militia there, hastily called out and badly
armed--some of them with shot-guns. The Seventh Regiment National
Guard of New York City was also there for another thirty days' war
experience, and was guarding Government stores at the railroad depot.
They looked very jaunty in their neat and unsoiled uniforms, some of
them wearing paper collars, forming a striking contrast to the bronzed
and begrimed veterans of the Army of the Potomac, from whom the
Seventh had to endure much good-natured chaffing in passing.
General Hooker, like McClellan in the Sharpsburg campaign, requested
the then useless garrison of ten thousand men at Harper's Ferry to be
added to his command in the pursuit of Lee's army, and was refused by
the autocratic General Halleck, whose chief concern seemed to be the
safety of Washington; and, finding himself generally thwarted in his
plans by the authorities in Washington, he requested to be relieved of
the command. On June twenty-eighth, while still at Frederick City,
Major General George G. Meade of the Fifth Army Corps was appointed as
the commander of the Army of the Potomac. General Hooker was sent to
the West, where he gained some fame from his "battle above the clouds"
at Lookout Mountain.
General Meade was a man of personal bravery and experience, highly
respected, but not very popular in the army. However, the Army of the
Potomac was loyal to him, as it had been to all its commanders, and
the soldiers proved their loyalty by tremendous sacrifices. It has
been said that this fine army was always better than its commanders,
of whom General Meade was the fifth within less than two years.
McDowell, McClellan, Burnside and Hooker preceded him; Pope had
commanded only a part of the army at the second Bull Run. I have
always held the opinion that, if the unfortunate Army of the Potomac
could have had General William T. Sherman for its commander in its
earlier days, the war would have terminated successfully for the North
much sooner, providing he had been given a free hand to plan his own
campaigns.
Although it was a delicate time to change commanders in the presence
of the enemy, not a ripple occurred to disturb the harmony or
movements of the army. General Meade was a favorite with General
Halleck and took it upon himself to break up the garrison at Harper's
Ferry, which had been denied to Hooker, and no notice was taken of his
action at Washington. On June twenty-ninth the army, which had been
chiefly concentrated at Frederick, was put into motion on several
roads towards Gettysburg.
General Meade's promotion caused some changes in the Fifth Army Corps;
General Sykes became the corps commander; General Romeyn B. Ayres
commanded the Second (Regular) Division; Colonel Hannibal Day the
First, and Colonel Sidney Burbank the Second Brigade. The Third
(Volunteer) Brigade was in command of General Stephen H. Weed. All of
these commanders were good and experienced officers, who had served in
the army before the war.
The supply train of the Fifth Corps followed the troops as far as
Westminster, about twenty miles southeast of Gettysburg, where there
was a branch railroad, connecting with the main road from Baltimore to
Harrisburg. An engagement with Stuart's cavalry had taken place at
Westminster on the previous day, and some dead horses were still
strewn along the road and the streets of the town. The train was kept
at Westminster during the three days' battle at Gettysburg, it is
said, because General Meade intended to fall back to the strong line
of Pipe Creek, not far from Westminster, had he been unsuccessful. On
the third day of the battle we could hear very plainly the firing of
the two hundred and thirty guns, which preceded General Pickett's
famous charge that afternoon. On the evening of the third of July the
supply train left Westminster and, after traveling all night, arrived
at Gettysburg on July fourth and halted in the rear of Little Round
Top, as near to the Fifth Corps as we could get. Here I issued rations
to our brigade and when that was completed I left my horse with the
train and ascended Little Round Top to view the great battle-field. It
commenced to rain hard soon after and continued to do so all day. My
view was very limited, owing to the rain, but I could see burying
parties at work in some of the places where fierce fighting had taken
place.
When I found my regiment I learned that Lieutenant Goodrich had been
killed, three officers wounded, five soldiers killed and about fifty
wounded. The losses in the Fifth Corps had been very heavy on the
second day's battle. The corps had arrived on the field early that
morning.
The Fourth of July passed quietly, both armies holding their
positions, but General Lee was sending his trains away; and on the
morning of the fifth General Meade found that the Rebel Army had
disappeared--the same thing that had happened to McClellan at
Antietam. General Lee retreated rapidly by the shortest route to
Williamsport on the Potomac, where he found his pontoon bridges
destroyed and the river so high from recent rains as to be unfordable.
General Meade pursued leisurely by a much longer route. This gave the
Rebels at least four days' time to take up a strong position and
fortify it, when they discovered that they could not cross the
Potomac.
The Fifth Corps left Gettysburg on the afternoon of the fifth of July
and moved by way of Emmitsburg and Middletown across the South
Mountain range at Fox's Gap to Williamsport, where it arrived about
the eleventh. Part of this route was familiar to us, as we had gone
over it the previous year. General Meade directed a strong
reconnaissance to be made on the morning of the fourteenth, which
developed the fact that the enemy had slipped across the Potomac
during the previous night. The authorities at Washington were angry at
the escape of the enemy without another battle; and the army, whose
hopes had been raised to a high pitch by their victory at Gettysburg,
grumbled audibly. General Meade wrote to General Halleck asking to be
relieved of the command of the Army of the Potomac, but his request
was not granted. Military critics claim that in allowing Lee to escape
from Gettysburg and again at Williamsport, General Meade missed the
greatest opportunity of the war to rout the Rebel Army and end the
struggle nearly two years sooner.
My horse, which had become a great pet, grew fat while traveling
through the rich farming lands of Maryland and Pennsylvania, where
there was an abundance of the finest clover and corn. On night marches
I often snatched a little sleep along the road by leaning forward in
the saddle, resting my head on his neck and encircling it with my
arms. Sometimes I fell asleep sitting up straight in the saddle when
slowly jogging along, until awakened by a low branch of a roadside
tree brushing my face or knocking off my cap. At such times the horse
seemed to be asleep also, and moved along mechanically.
The people in this section treated the soldiers kindly; some women
baked bread and biscuits to give away; others sold us bread, butter,
eggs and pies at most reasonable prices. And how good that bread
tasted! I remember reporting for orders at brigade headquarters camp
one evening when the officers were having supper and overhearing the
General remark that he would like to marry the woman who baked the
bread he was eating, no matter what her looks might be. In some of the
small villages and farmhouses the natives understood but little
English and spoke only Pennsylvania Dutch.
General Meade put the army in motion on the fifteenth of July for
Harper's Ferry, where we crossed the Potomac, and I had an opportunity
to see John Brown's Fort. Some of the troops crossed at Berlin, about
six miles below. We marched east of the Blue Ridge, over much of the
same road McClellan had traveled the previous fall, while the Rebels
passed down the Shenandoah Valley, guarding all the passes. At
Manassas Gap the Confederates were overtaken and an attempt was made
to bring on an engagement, which resulted in a lively skirmish until
darkness came on, but next morning the enemy had disappeared. We
resumed our march leisurely, by way of Warrenton, and about the sixth
of August went into permanent camp at Beverly Ford on the
Rappahannock, drawing our supplies from Culpeper on the Orange and
Alexandria railroad.
While on this march, near Centreville, we noticed a horse in a field
some distance off the road. His condition was deplorable, he hobbled
most painfully, and I suppose the greater part of the army had seen
him in passing, but no one cared to have such a lame and sorry-looking
animal. One of my men was curious enough to go out into the field to
look at him, and discovered that his foot was wedged fast into an
empty tomato can; and when that was removed he was no longer lame. The
horse was cleaned and fed and became a useful extra riding-horse. He
was known by the name of "Centreville."
About this time we read in the papers about serious riots in New York
city called the "Draft Riots." Congress had passed an act to enroll
all available citizens of the loyal states for military duty, to
enable the states to furnish their quota, when called upon for
additional troops by the Government. Names were to be drawn by
lottery, and each man so drawn was to serve in the army or furnish an
acceptable substitute. This had to be done; all the two-year
volunteers had been discharged and, after the defeats at
Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, there were few voluntary
enlistments. The regulars were unable to obtain any recruits to fill
up their skeleton regiments, owing to county and town bounties offered
for volunteers. The riots in New York had been controlled for the time
being, but there was much uneasiness in the city as to what would
occur when the actual drawing of names began, for the Government
needed soldiers and was bound to enforce the draft. It was therefore
decided to send the two small brigades of regulars and a few volunteer
regiments to New York city to report there for duty to General John A.
Dix, commanding the Department of the East.
Accordingly on August thirteenth the troops destined for New York
city, under the command of General R. B. Ayres, left their camps for
Alexandria, some of the soldiers going on freight-cars from Culpeper,
while others marched with the supply train to Alexandria. On our
arrival there, after issuing rations, I was ordered to turn over all
Government property to the depot commissary, make out transfers and
take receipts for it for Lieutenant Greeley. It cost me a severe pang
to part with my horse Tommy, to whom I had become much attached. He
was so gentle that often after a hard march when he was unsaddled and
fed he would lie on the grass and I would lie down with him, resting
my head on his neck and we would both go to sleep.
My little staff of assistants was dispersed and sent to their
companies; and so was I, but not to do duty with them, only to be
accounted for. I was still brigade commissary sergeant and was to be
at Lieutenant Greeley's call when needed. We had to wait for
transportation in Alexandria, where my regiment was on a block in a
private street. We stacked arms in the street, and in the daytime sat
on the curbstone under the shade trees or loafed about the
neighborhood. We did our cooking by little fires in the street and at
night lay down on the brick sidewalks in front of the houses. This we
did for two nights. Fortunately it did not rain. In the house before
which my company was stationed there were some ladies who had a piano
and they sang secession songs after dark; and we retaliated by singing
all the Union songs we knew. They kept their blinds closed and we saw
none but negro servants enter or leave the house while we were there.
On the third day we marched to the wharf and embarked on a freight
steamer--the worst old tub I was ever on! As usual, we were crowded
and I preferred to remain on deck and camped near one of the masts.
This steamer was a very slow propeller. The weather was fine and we
got along fairly well down the Potomac and the Chesapeake Bay, until
we passed the Capes and entered the Atlantic, when we discovered that
she was a high-roller and hadn't ballast enough. Soon more than half
of the command was seasick. The ship had no bulwarks, only an open
pipe railing through which it would be quite easy to roll over-board.
As I was not seasick I remained on deck, taking the precaution to tie
myself to the mast in the night-time. We were a long time getting to
New York, where we arrived in the middle of the day and landed at a
dock at the foot of Canal Street.
Parts of our brigades, who were on faster boats, had arrived on the
preceding day. The command was scattered throughout the city; some
regiments encamped in Battery Park; others in Washington, Union,
Madison and Tompkins Squares. Some companies were stationed on the
upper part of Fourth Avenue along the New Haven Railroad tracks and
elsewhere. My regiment and another encamped on the block bounded by
Fifth and Sixth Avenues, Forty-eighth and Forty-ninth Streets. This
block was vacant except for a row of four-story buildings on the Sixth
Avenue side, still standing. The block had been filled in and graded
fairly level a few feet above the street, and had a picket fence on
the other three sides. There were few houses in the neighborhood;
close by, on Fifth Avenue, were the foundations of St. Patrick's
Cathedral which had just been begun. The nearest horse-car line was on
Sixth Avenue, where we noticed an occasional car, smaller than the
others and painted yellow, bearing a sign in large letters, on either
side of the car, which read: "Colored people allowed in this car."
We left the dock at Canal Street during the afternoon and marched
up-town by way of Hudson Street, up Sixth Avenue to our destination at
Fifth Avenue and Forty-ninth Street, where the men were obliged to
sleep on the ground without tents that night. I went to my home. We
still had our band, though reduced in numbers. It played during our
march uptown, and we had many spectators and the usual juvenile
following. We did not look as pretty as the militia the people had
been accustomed to see; we were sunburnt, dirty and ragged-looking;
but, nevertheless, we received many cheers on the way. The arrival of
the soldiers from the Army of the Potomac restored peace of mind to
many people in New York and allayed their fears of rioting and
destruction of property, while enforcing the draft. No disturbance
occurred while that went on; if there had been, the rioters would have
received a severe lesson, for we had no sympathy for them.
The next day was a busy one in camp; tents were received and put up;
sinks were dug and a water supply arranged for; and guards were posted
at the gates to keep the soldiers in and the overwhelming public out.
Crowds of people, who seemed to have nothing else to do, lined the
fence and crowded the sidewalks from reveille to tattoo, watching the
soldiers. In the afternoons the nursery-maids with their baby
carriages appeared, and were made love to by the soldiers on the other
side of the fence and forgot their charges. At sunset, when dress
parade took place and the band played, the sidewalks around the camp
were impassable. At night such of the soldiers as were fortunate
enough to possess any money and had not obtained a pass jumped the low
fence where it was not guarded and remained away until the small
hours. The commander was liberal in granting daily passes to a certain
number to be absent from camp.
Lieutenant Greeley made a contract with one of the many caterers who
supplied food to the conscripts, substitutes and recruits while they
were in the city to provide cooked rations for three meals per day for
our brigade for the Government money value of a soldier's rations, as
computed in New York city. This proved unsatisfactory from the start,
the food being poor and insufficient and often cold--being served by
wagons, and at irregular times. In a few days the contract was
cancelled and each company drew its rations direct from the New York
commissary on Stone Street, and were furnished cooking utensils and
fire-wood to cook their own rations in camp. This proved to be another
very interesting item to the loiterers about the camp, watching the
cooking and serving of meals for the soldiers. Lieutenant Greeley gave
me the names and addresses of a few prominent bakers in the city, whom
I was to interview with regard to obtaining fresh bread for the
brigade. Among them I found one named Wall, at that time located on
the lower part of Sixth Avenue, or on Carmine Street, who agreed to
give us eighteen ounces of good wholesome bread for the daily
Government allowance of eighteen ounces of flour, or its money
value--which offer was accepted. I now had no duties of any kind to
perform, except to see that the baker kept up the weight of his
loaves, and I was absolutely free to come and go, when and where I
pleased, during our three weeks' stay in New York. I had some money
with me, also some at home, where I had at times sent part of my pay.
I took advantage of this short opportunity after the arduous field
service to enjoy myself as much as possible.
The brigade's headquarters were in Madison Square, which at that time
was enclosed by an iron fence set on a granite coping, and around this
the crowds were even denser than in my own camp. Here the Fourteenth
Infantry and some other troops were encamped. And here Lieutenant
Greeley, to whom I reported almost daily, had his tent. The
proprietors of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, opposite Madison Square,
generously furnished meals for the officers in this camp free of
charge during their stay. Sergeant William J. Milligan of the Sixth
Infantry, who was acting as brigade quartermaster sergeant, and who
was an old bunkie of mine at Governor's Island, had his tent here,
where I slept much oftener than I did in my own camp. The tent was
under a large tree, facing the main entrance of the hotel, and I
believe that I can still point out the tree.
The drawing for conscripts to fill New York city's quota for the
Government's call for troops was completed without any trouble, and
one morning in September, after a three weeks' stay, we were ordered,
much to our regret, to strike tents and prepare to return to the field
again. A paymaster appeared in camp very early and gave us four
month's pay, which was due us, and which, I believe, had been
purposely withheld until the day of our departure. As we were not to
leave until sometime in the afternoon, I had plenty of time to say
good-by at home and farewell to my friend, Sergeant Milligan, for his
regiment, the Sixth Infantry, was ordered to Fort Hamilton in New York
Harbor and did not go to the field again during the war. All of the
old infantry regiments--the Third, Fourth, Seventh and Tenth--all mere
skeletons, were retained in the forts around New York. For some reason
the Second Infantry, consisting of six companies, not half full, had
to go back to the field again, along with the newer and larger
regiments, the Eleventh, Twelfth, Fourteenth and Seventeenth Infantry.
We sat around, ready and waiting for the order to start, but it was
well along towards evening before we left camp and marched down Sixth
Avenue to Canal Street, the way we had come. Only about one-half of
our officers marched with us; the others were probably having farewell
dinners and knew that the steamer would not leave until daylight next
morning. Many of our men did not have a cent when they arrived. The
four months' pay was burning holes in their pockets, and they were
tempted to have a little fling before going back to Virginia. The
streets were packed with people and it was quite easy to dodge into
the crowd and disappear quickly through the open door of some corner
saloon without attracting the attention of the officers. By the time
we reached Canal Street it was dusk and many slipped away before we
reached the dock. When the roll was called, it was discovered that
more than forty men were missing, among them the drum-major, Lovell,
and one of the color sergeants, named McConnell, who had the
regimental colors with him. A detail was sent out to round up the
absentees; but after a search of several hours, they had only captured
half a dozen. As many more came back of their own accord, in a more or
less muddled condition, and when the steamer sailed in the morning
about thirty men were still missing. All but two or three of these men
rejoined the regiment about a week later in Alexandria. When they
finished their spree, or their money gave out, they reported to the
provost-marshal, who held them and sent them on. They had a hard time
on the steamer with a disreputable lot of conscripts and substitutes,
who were thievish and quarrelsome. The drum-major related that he was
awakened on deck one night by a man going through his pockets. He said
to the thief, "Friend, if you can find anything there, you are welcome
to it!" Our colors remained for two days in a hotel on Canal Street,
but were brought safely back. My regiment had to submit to a lot of
jollying from the other troops about losing one of our colors in New
York; but we never lost them to the enemy, neither did any other
regular regiment in the Army of the Potomac. It was supposed that
these men would all be tried by court-martial for absence without
leave, but directly after our return to the field in the latter part
of September, General Lee attempted a flank movement which kept our
army very busy marching for some time. These were all good and
faithful soldiers, and instead of a court-martial a general order was
issued fining each man a month's pay.
The return trip of the regiment to Alexandria was uneventful. We had a
better boat and made a quicker trip than we did going up to New York.
The two regular brigades remained long enough in Alexandria to be
refitted with a supply train and other necessities. I resumed my
former duties under a new commissary officer, First Lieutenant James
B. Sinclair of the Fourteenth United States Infantry. Of my former
detail I had but one, all the others being new men. I could not get my
old horse back and had to take another which was not nearly so good.
The two brigades then joined the main army near Culpeper, about the
time when the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps were withdrawn from the Army
of the Potomac to serve in the West. The Rebel Army had also been
reduced during the summer by sending Longstreet's corps to Tennessee.
When General Lee learned of the departure of two of our Army Corps, he
put his troops in motion to turn our right flank and rear. This was
the beginning of a campaign of manoeuvres between Generals Meade and
Lee, like the moves in a game of chess. We crossed the Rappahannock
and for about two weeks we marched and counter-marched along the
familiar line of the Orange and Alexandria railroad, the supply trains
along with the troops, until by forced marching we reached Centreville
ahead of the enemy, where General Meade offered battle. General Lee
retreated, however, south of the Rappahannock, destroying the railroad
and burning the stations from Bristoe to the Rappahannock.
For some days we were prevented from following him by a heavy
rainstorm which made Bull Run unfordable and pontoons had to be sent
for. During these marches in the latter part of September, 1863, we
passed one morning through the almost deserted small town of
Brentsville, the county-seat of Prince William County, Virginia. The
street in front of the court house was littered with books or records
and bundles of papers which had been maliciously thrown out through
the open door and windows, probably by some of our stragglers, or
"coffee-coolers," as they were also called. I dismounted and examined
some of the books which I found to contain mainly records of wills and
transfers of property. Some of these books and papers were being
carried off by passing soldiers who, when they examined them at the
next halt, either threw them away or built fires with them. I picked
up a few bundles of the papers and carried them with me until I got to
camp, where I examined them. The greater part of them proved to be
written consents from masters for his slaves, "Caesar and Dinah" or
"Rastus and Lucy" to get married. No surnames seemed to be used for
the slaves. Among the papers there was one, however, which interested
me and is still in my possession. It is a writ for the arrest of
William Murphy, as follows:
George the second by the grace of God of great Britain, France &
Ireland, King Defender of the Faith & .c. To the sheriff of the
County of _Prince William_ Greeting. We command You that You take
_William Murphy_ ... if _he_ be found within your Bailivic and
_him_ safely keep so that you have _his_ Body before our H Justices
of our said County at the Court house of the said County on the
_fourth monday_ ... in ... _July_ ... next to answer ... _Benjamin
Grayson Gent of a plea of Trespass upon the Case, Damage ten
pounds_ ... and have then there this writ witness Peter Wagener
Clerk of our said Court at the Court house of aforesaid the _XXIII_
... day of _June_ in the _XXVIth_ year of our reign 1752.
P. Wagener.
On the reverse side of the paper is this endorsement:
Not to be found within my Precinct.
John Crump
This paper, yellow with age but well preserved, is five by six inches
in size. It is a coarsely executed pen blank with the words in italics
inserted in fine clear penmanship. John Crump's endorsement is written
in a good plain running hand.
* * * * *
The army now took up positions along the north bank of the
Rappahannock, where we encamped for two weeks or more, while the
railroad was being repaired; and during that time we had to haul
supplies from Bristoe Station until the repairs brought them nearer. A
number of skirmishes took place during the two weeks of manoeuvring,
but no battles were fought.
While at this camp I witnessed the impressive sight of a military
execution. A man from one of the new regular regiments had been
sentenced by a general court-martial to be shot for desertion. Near
sun-down the brigade was paraded and formed three sides of a square on
a level field outside of the camp. At the open end of the square was a
rude coffin and a newly made grave. Soon the prisoner and
provost-guard approached, preceded by a band playing a dead march,
passing through the square towards the coffin. There the prisoner,
whose bearing was firm and steady, was blindfolded and made to kneel
on the coffin. A firing party of eight took position in front of the
condemned man at about ten paces. There was a breathless silence for a
few minutes, then suddenly were heard the provost-marshal's commands,
"Ready! Aim! Fire!" and the man fell forward over the coffin. A
surgeon examined him and pronounced him dead; the brigade marched back
to camp, and the man was buried in the grave prepared for him.
On the seventh day of November General Meade again put the army in
motion to force the passage of the Rappahannock. At Rappahannock
Station, where the Rebels were intrenched, there was a spirited
engagement, when the Sixth Corps charged the works and captured about
sixteen hundred prisoners with small loss to themselves. The Third
Corps was also successful in forcing a passage at Kelly's Ford and
capturing some four hundred prisoners. The Confederates, taken by
surprise, retired during the night beyond Culpeper.
Next day the supply trains crossed at Kelly's Ford and the army went
into camp from there to Brandy Station. The railroad had to be
repaired as far as Brandy Station, and an important railroad bridge
crossing the Rappahannock rebuilt, which consumed considerable time.
We supposed that this was to be our winter camp, as the weather grew
very bad and cold, as the season advanced, and the road became worse,
but it was not to be so. The authorities at Washington, unmindful of
the disastrous ending of Burnside's winter campaigns the previous
year, urged upon General Meade to continue offensive operations.
Accordingly General Meade on the twenty-sixth of November, after a
severe storm, broke up the camps and started the army on its march to
the fords of the Rapidan.
The Fifth Army Corps crossed the river on a pontoon bridge at a place
called Culpeper Mine Ford on the same day, all of the supply trains,
except some ammunition wagons, remaining on the north side of the
river. On the twenty-eighth it was discovered that a surprise was out
of the question, the enemy having concentrated all their forces in a
strong position on the west bank of Mine Run.
General Warren, who had commanded the Second Corps since General
Hancock had been wounded at Gettysburg, was ordered to make the main
attack on the morning of the thirtieth. He made an early examination
of the enemy's works and had the moral courage to suspend General
Meade's order to attack, sending him word to that effect. This brought
General Meade to make a personal examination, after which he agreed
with General Warren as to the hopelessness of the attempt. The men of
the Second Corps realized that they were to attack a position as
hopeless as that at Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg and knew that
few would escape. The night before the attack was to be made each man
wrote his name, company and regiment on a piece of paper and pinned it
to his clothing.
On the same night I was sent across the river with a few supply wagons
and reached the front early in the forenoon, when I issued the rations
and rested a few hours. I had a good view of a part of the Rebel
position, which appeared very formidable, in front of the Fifth Corps.
On my return march in the afternoon a cold rain-storm came on, turning
to sleet; then it became so cold that my saturated clothing was frozen
stiff before I reached camp. The sufferings of the soldiers before the
enemy was dreadful. The next day General Meade decided that the
campaign was a failure and began to withdraw the army, which recrossed
the Rapidan unmolested and, thanks to General Warren, without a
useless slaughter, as in the Burnside campaign of the previous winter.
This ended active operations in the Army of the Potomac for 1863. The
troops established winter camps; the Fifth Corps guarded and was
encamped along the line of the Orange and Alexandria railroad, by
brigades stationed at intervals from Fairfax to Brandy Station. The
headquarters of my brigade were at Noakesville Station, a small place
no longer on the map. Colonel Burbank, who commanded the brigade, and
staff occupied a large farm-house situated a few hundred yards east of
the little station on a hill. A small two-story out-house was assigned
to the brigade commissary and quartermaster departments. A few
regiments of the brigade were encamped in the immediate vicinity,
where they made themselves comfortable in their winter huts. I rigged
up a store-house and, together with the quartermaster sergeant and our
assistants, used the little two-story house as an office and for our
sleeping quarters. The house had a good roof, a fireplace and chimney.
There was plenty of wood and we were warm and comfortable. My horse
was stabled along with the brigade staff horses in one of the farm
stables.
The commissary depot for the Fifth Corps was at Catlett's Station,
about five miles from our camp. I was sent there once a week with a
wagon-train to draw supplies for the brigade, and was always
accompanied by an infantry escort, as there were guerrillas about. One
morning as I was starting off with my train, Captain Samuel A. McKee,
of my regiment, and Lieutenant Edwin E. Sellers, of the Tenth United
States Infantry, who, with an orderly, were going to Catlett's
Station, asked me to ride with them in advance of my train. They soon
began to ride very fast and I found that my horse could not keep up
with theirs; frequently they were out of sight and I was a quarter of
a mile behind in the lonely woods. Then I thought of the guerrillas,
but we arrived safely at the station. About a week later, April
eleventh, 1864, Captain McKee, accompanied by an orderly, made the
same journey and was shot dead on his way to Catlett's; his body was
found lying on the road, stripped of his arms and valuables and most
of his clothing. The orderly escaped.
About this time many brevet ranks were conferred on officers--the
greater part of them for gallantry in the field; others for efficiency
in various lines of duty; and some for no particular reason that
anyone could discover. So generous was the War Department in
distributing brevet ranks that they seemed to lose dignity and
sometimes became a joke. The army mule was dubbed a "brevet horse" and
the camp follower became a "brevet soldier." Some officers were
advanced several grades above their lineal rank by supplementary
brevets. It was no uncommon occurrence to find a lieutenant who was a
brevet major or colonel; and I know of a few cases where first
lieutenants held the honorary rank of brigadier-general.
Lieutenant Sinclair, the commissary officer, was an easygoing, very
pleasant man, much liked by both officers and soldiers. He was a first
lieutenant and brevet major--a very brave officer, who had the
peculiar experience of being wounded in the same leg in three
different engagements, but never very seriously--each time able to
resume his duties after being discharged from the hospital. He
remained in the service for some years after the war. Lieutenant
Sinclair was a New Yorker. He had been with the Singer Sewing Machine
Co. before the war.
During this winter and spring a large number of recruits joined the
Army of the Potomac, among them many conscripts and substitutes, who
as a class were not the equals of volunteers of 1861 and 1862. The
armies needed still more men and on February first President Lincoln
ordered a draft for five hundred thousand men to be held on March
tenth, and another on March fifteenth for two hundred thousand more,
to be held April fifteenth, 1864. Recruiting for the regular army
almost ceased, owing to the large bounties paid for substitutes, and
the fact that the enlistments among the volunteers were only for three
years, or the duration of the war. I had a short furlough at this time
and spent four days very pleasantly in Washington with comrades of my
regiment, who had been detailed as clerks in the War Department or
were employed as civilians after their discharge from the army.
On March twelfth, 1864, Lieutenant General U.S. Grant was made
commander-in-chief of all the armies of the United States, deposing
General Halleck, to the great satisfaction of many of the officers and
the rank and file in the armies. General Grant visited the Army of the
Potomac for a few days in March, consulting General Meade, its
commander. Soon after many changes and consolidations were ordered.
The five corps were reduced to three, viz: the Second, Fifth and
Sixth, commanded respectively by Generals Hancock, Warren and
Sedgwick. The Fifth Corps lost its old commander, that sterling old
soldier, Major General George Sykes, who had commanded the regular
brigade at the beginning of the war and had risen to the command of
the Fifth Army Corps. We lost him with profound feelings of regret,
which were only compensated by the confidence we had in Major General
Gouverneur K. Warren, who had long been a brigade and division
commander of the corps. Skeleton companies and regiments were
consolidated, brigades and divisions were enlarged. All of the regular
infantry soldiers who remained in the field at this time were placed
in the First Brigade of the First Division of the Fifth Corps, along
with four regiments of volunteers; the One Hundred and Fortieth and
One Hundred and Forty-sixth New York and the Ninety-first and One
Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, which when combined, out-numbered
the regulars considerably. Brigadier-General Romeyn B. Ayres, an old
regular artillery officer, commanded the brigade.
General Meade remained in the immediate command of the Army of the
Potomac, now increased to ninety-nine thousand, four hundred and
thirty-eight officers and enlisted men present for duty, equipped;
while General Lee's army, composed of the corps of Longstreet, Ewell
and Hill, with Stuart's cavalry, was estimated to number about
sixty-two thousand.
General Grant arrived on April twenty-sixth and established his
headquarters at Culpeper; with his coming preparations for a forward
movement were begun; there was bustle and tumult in all the camps, and
a week later, May fourth, the Fifth Corps crossed the Rapidan with the
Second Division in the lead preceded by a division of cavalry.