[Illustration: John G. B. Adams.]
“_Follow the colors of the Nineteenth._”—General Webb.
REMINISCENCES
OF THE
NINETEENTH
MASSACHUSETTS
REGIMENT
BY CAPT. JOHN G. B. ADAMS.
[Illustration: DECORATION]
BOSTON: WRIGHT & POTTER
PRINTING COMPANY, 18 POST
OFFICE SQUARE, 1899....
Copyright, 1899,
By JOHN G. B. ADAMS.
PREFACE.
FOR thirty-four years I have waited patiently for some one to write a
history of the 19th Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, but fearing that
it may never be accomplished, I have concluded to send out this story.
I do not dignify it by calling it a history. It is simply a soldier’s
story, told by one of the “boys.” Most of it is written from memory.
The account of prison life is taken from an imperfect diary, kept by
the writer while a prisoner of war.
I sincerely hope the publication of this volume will inspire other
comrades, and that from the memories thus evoked some one may gather
further material whereby the deeds of the men who so bravely followed
the flags of the State and Nation for four long, weary years may be
preserved.
JOHN G. B. ADAMS.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
THE CALL TO ARMS, 1
CHAPTER II.
OUR JOURNEY SOUTH, 7
CHAPTER III.
BATTLES OF BALL’S BLUFF AND EDWARD’S FERRY.—EXPERIENCES
AT DARNESTOWN AND ROCKVILLE, 12
CHAPTER IV.
OUR FIRST CAMPAIGN.—BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS, 23
CHAPTER V.
BATTLES AT PEACH ORCHARD, GLENDALE AND MALVERN HILL, 32
CHAPTER VI.
BATTLES OF FAIRFAX COURT HOUSE, FLINT HILL AND ANTIETAM, 41
CHAPTER VII.
BATTLES OF FREDERICKSBURG AND MARYE’S HEIGHTS, 49
CHAPTER VIII.
BATTLES OF CHANCELLORSVILLE, THOROUGHFARE GAP AND
GETTYSBURG.—WOUNDED AT GETTYSBURG AND ORDERED
HOME, 63
CHAPTER IX.
REGIMENT ORDERED HOME.—RECEPTIONS.—MY FIRST CALL
UPON GOVERNOR ANDREW.—RETURN TO THE FRONT, 78
CHAPTER X.
BATTLES OF THE WILDERNESS, TODD’S TAVERN AND LAUREL
HILL.—ENGAGEMENT AT THE BLOODY ANGLE, 87
CHAPTER XI.
BATTLES AT TOTOPOTOMOY CREEK AND COLD HARBOR, 95
CHAPTER XII.
EXPERIENCES IN REBEL PRISONS.—LIBBY, MACON, 104
CHAPTER XIII.
MACON (CONTINUED), CHARLESTON.—UNDER FIRE OF OUR
BATTERIES ON MORRIS ISLAND, 116
CHAPTER XIV.
COLUMBIA.—PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION, 132
CHAPTER XV.
THE ESCAPE, 138
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CAPTURE AND RETURN TO COLUMBIA, 161
CHAPTER XVII.
THE EXCHANGE AND RETURN NORTH, 174
Nineteenth Massachusetts Regiment.
CHAPTER I.
THE CALL TO ARMS.
At the breaking out of the war I was a resident of the quiet but
patriotic town of Groveland. Sumter had been fired upon and all was
excitement. I could not work, and on the 18th of April, 1861, walked to
Haverhill with my elder brother and Mark Kimball. We went to the armory
of the Hale Guards, who were making active preparations to march, and I
returned home that night resolved to go with them if possible. The next
day we walked to Haverhill again, and I at once interviewed Captain
Messer, but was informed that the company was more than full, so I
could not go with it.
I had said nothing to my brother or Mark of my intention, but as we
were walking home I found that we all had the same desire,—to enlist
at once. We talked the matter over and concluded that as Company A of
the 1st Battalion of Rifles, an old militia company located in West
Newbury, and then under arms, would soon be ordered away, we would
join it. That night we walked to West Newbury (five miles), found the
company at the armory in the town hall and enrolled our names. Company
A was one of three that composed the 1st Battalion of Rifles, commanded
by Maj. Ben. Perley Poore. They had been organized several years and
were known as “Poore’s Savages.” They were armed with Winsor rifles and
sabre bayonets, the rifle and bayonet weighing about fifteen pounds.
The uniform was dark green, trimmed with light green, and as I donned
it for the first time it was hard to tell which was the greener, the
soldier or the uniform. We had a peculiar drill. Most of it, as I can
remember, consisted of running around the town hall in single file,
giving an Indian war-whoop and firing into the corner of the hall as we
ran.
I was a soldier now. I did not walk the streets as I had done, but
_marched_, always turning “a square corner.” People grasped me by the
hand and congratulated me on my courage. (I did not see where the
courage came in.) The Sons of Temperance, of which my brother Isaac and
myself were members, presented us at a public meeting with two suits
of underclothes and havelocks, housewives, testaments, etc., so that
before we received our army outfit we had enough to load a mule.
We waited for orders to march, but none came, and from being heroes we
began to be looked upon with disgust, and we were the most disgusted of
all. As we would meet friends on the street they would say, “Is it not
about time to have another public meeting to bid you fellows good-by?”
or, “You will want some more shirts before you leave.” So mortified did
we become that, instead of marching down through the village to drill,
we sneaked away through a back street.
[Illustration: PRIVATE “JOHNNIE” ADAMS.
April, 1861.]
The company began to get demoralized. Men were leaving every day, going
to other States or to regiments that had been ordered to the front. At
last we rebelled, and sent our officers to the Governor with a vote
passed by the company, that unless we were ordered into camp at once
we would disband. After a few days we were furnished with a large tent
for the men, a wall tent for the officers and a supply of rations. Our
camp was located on the land of one of our members, Private Sylvester,
and was named “Camp Sylvester.” We were without arms except three guns
for guard duty, as our old Winsors had been turned in. Company A was
officered as follows: Captain, Moses P. Stanwood; First Lieutenant, J.
Warren Brown; Second Lieutenant, Benjamin Wilson; Third Lieutenant,
Isaac H. Boyd; Fourth Lieutenant, Jones Frankle. The third and fourth
lieutenants were soon discharged, as army regulations only provided for
two. Lieutenant Boyd went into the ranks, Lieutenant Frankle was made
major of the 17th Massachusetts.
Our discipline in Camp Sylvester was not as strict as it was later
in the war. We mounted one guard. After we had been once around we
concluded that the lieutenants ought to stand their share, so we put
them on. One night we caught a calf and after the officers were asleep
we turned him into their tent. We did many things that later would have
sent us to the guard-house.
About the second week in July we were ordered to Lynnfield to join the
19th regiment. We were the second company in camp, Company C of Rowley
arriving about two hours before us. Our tents were a peculiar pattern,
neither wall nor A, but between the two, having accommodations for ten
men, and each tent had three windows or ventilators. For a time we
were under the command of Col. Lyman Dyke, who also commanded the 17th
regiment, located near us.
At Lynnfield I was promoted to sixth corporal, and my troubles began.
I was one day detailed for guard, the 17th and 19th regiments doing
guard duty together. When I posted my relief I had one more man than
posts, so I made a new post. The officer of the day asked me what I
did with the supernumerary. I said that I put him on in rear of the
ice-house. He desired to know who gave me authority to create new
posts, and I replied that I supposed I was to use up my men. As soon
as the guards were posted they began to call “Corporal of the Guard.”
When I went to them they wanted a drink of water. I asked the officer
of the day if it was my duty to carry water to them. He said it was. So
I toted the water pail the two hours my relief was on. At night the men
went to their quarters. I found where they slept, and made arrangements
to call them. I would put my head into a tent and call, “Third relief!”
and instead of the men coming out, a boot with an oath came at me. As I
could not get enough for a relief I turned out the drummer and had him
beat the long roll. This brought out the officer of the day but very
few of the men, as they did not know what it meant any more than I did.
Collecting what I could we started to relieve the guard, but I soon
found that I had more than men enough, as at nearly every post we found
the musket stuck into the ground and the man missing. When relieved in
the morning I was disgusted with being an officer, and longed for the
freedom of a private.
Recruits were fast arriving. Company A went into camp with about sixty
men, and every day some new man was voted in, as we had not given up
the old militia method of electing our members. Skeleton companies
were arriving, consisting of an officer and a few men, who were given
a letter and assigned a place in line. Among the first to arrive was
Captain Mahoney. His company was given the letter E. Captain Mahoney
was an energetic officer and anxious to drill his men. Long before
daybreak, with his first sergeant, McNamara, he would turn out the
recruits, and as we lay in our tents we could hear him calling, “Left!
Left! McNamara, tread on that man’s heels!”
It was not very long before we had the required number of companies,
the last to arrive being the Boston Tiger Fire Zouaves, and my story
from this point will include the regiment as well as Company A.
One day in August we saw a military man looking over the camp. We
soon learned that it was Colonel Hincks, who had just returned from
three months’ service with the 8th Massachusetts. In a few days he
was assigned to the command of the 19th and from that moment what
had been a uniformed mob became a regiment of soldiers. With him
came Lieutenant-Colonel Devereaux, who had been captain of the Salem
Zouaves, and soon after Maj. Henry J. How. One of the Salem Zouaves
was assigned to each company as a drill-master, and we soon saw that
our three months’ drilling had been worse than useless, as we had to
begin over again, and it “was hard to teach old dogs new tricks;”
but the Zouaves won our respect and every man was anxious to do his
best. Very soon a change took place in the line officers,—a Zouave
was commissioned in nearly every company. Company A retained Captain
Stanwood, but lost both lieutenants, C. M. Merritt, who had been an
officer in the 8th, being made first lieutenant, and Isaac H. Boyd, who
had enlisted as a private, second lieutenant.
On August 27 we were ordered to strike tents and prepare to march. That
night, for the first time, we slept on the ground, with only the blue
sky for shelter. The next day we took cars for Boston. Our knapsacks
were slung for the first time and loaded with everything that it was
possible to stow away.
Being anxious that my “best girl” should see me in the full garb of
a warrior, I arrayed myself in heavy marching order and went to an
ambrotype saloon to have my picture taken. I have seen that picture
since the war. In an ambrotype everything is reversed, so my musket is
at my left shoulder, haversack and canteen on the wrong side,—in fact,
I was wrong end to in every respect.
Our wagon train was larger than that of an army corps in active
service. Each company had a four-horse wagon, headquarters two,
quartermaster four; I think there were twenty besides the ambulances.
We arrived in Boston in the afternoon. It was the second time I had
been in the city, and as we halted on the Common, and no friend came
to bid me good-by, the first feeling of homesickness came over me, and
I began to realize that at last we were real soldiers and that the
enjoyments of camp life at home were fast falling to the rear. We went
to New York by the Fall River line. I had never been on a steamboat
before and was very sick. Landing in New York, we marched up Broadway.
My knapsack weighed a ton and I was so sick that I could not hold up
my head, yet dared not fall out for fear I should get lost. We were
marched to a barrack and given some thin soup and a testament. I had
already two testaments in my knapsack, but I took this, although I
wished they had put a little more money in the soup and passed the
testament. I do not remember what route we took from New York, but
we went part of the way by boat and arrived in Philadelphia the next
morning.