OUR FIRST CAMPAIGN.—BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS.
About the middle of March we broke camp and took up our line of march
for our first campaign. We bade good-by to our tents, which had
sheltered us since we left Massachusetts, and sent them to Washington
with our extra personal baggage, where I expect they are to-day, as
we never received them again. We marched to the river, then up the
tow-path of the canal to Harper’s Ferry, forded the Potomac at Point
of Rocks, and for the first time our feet pressed the sacred soil of
Virginia. We saw here the devastations of war,—the ruins of the old
arsenal that had been burned by the rebels, the dilapidated and vacant
houses,—but most interesting to us was the old engine-house, where
John Brown made his gallant fight. This we found filled with rebel
prisoners. “Truly,” we said, “his soul is marching on.” As soon as
arms were stacked we rushed to the arsenal ruins for relics. I found
an old gun-lock and several other parts of muskets. These I packed in
my knapsack,—and the next day threw them away. With other regiments
we marched up the valley to join Banks’s division, and bivouacked at
Charlestown in the field where John Brown was hanged.
The next morning Company A was ordered back to Harper’s Ferry for
provost duty. The rest of the regiment marched on, but in a few days
returned and took position on Bolivar Heights, occupying deserted
houses. Captain Merritt was appointed provost marshal at the ferry
and everything was soon in military order, the company quartered in
houses, the officers boarding in the town. One day Captain Merritt,
with a detail from the company, made a seizure of several barrels of
whiskey and a keg of gin, which were taken to a vacant store and a
guard placed over them. Somehow the keg of gin disappeared; where it
had gone no one knew. The next day was our last in town, having been
ordered to join the regiment quite early in the morning. I noticed some
of the men were very happy, but as we had been called by the other
companies “Merritt’s Sabbath school children,” I thought it possible
they were rehearsing for a Sabbath school concert. The increase of the
_spiritual_ manifestations told me that the cause of the inspiration
must be the gin, and that it was not far away. After searching awhile
I found the missing keg in the cellar. Unlike many of the men, it was
nearly empty. In the midst of the seance Captain Merritt arrived. He
came to order me to have the company in line ready to move at once.
When he saw the condition of some of the men I guess he thought we had
better move in ambulances. As we were going the rounds of the rooms we
met Ben Falls, perfectly sober, having just been relieved from guard.
Captain Merritt (referring to the condition of the company) said, “Ben,
I am astonished.” “Well,” said Ben, “it is not my fault; I have been on
guard, but I will get just as full as the rest as soon as I find the
stuff.” When the time came to march all were in fair condition, and
before we reached Bolivar Heights, as good as ever. As it was the first
offence the men were let off with a lecture from the captain, and as
the opportunity was never again presented, the offence was not repeated.
With Captain Devereaux, who joined us at Muddy Branch, came more
recruits, and the regiment was now full, Company A having had for a
few days one hundred and two enlisted men, several of the old men were
discharged, bringing us down to the required number. A fine band was
attached to the regiment, and having become very well drilled in the
manual, our dress parades were almost perfect, and were witnessed by
nearly all the soldiers and citizens in the town.
March 24 we received marching orders. Crossing the river we took cars
at Point of Rocks for Washington, where we arrived the next day. We
remained in Washington two days, then marched to the navy yard and took
the old transport “North America” for Fortress Monroe.
In no place is the life of a soldier so hard as on a transport. Crowded
between decks like cattle, unable to cook or even make coffee, they
must subsist on what rations are issued and drink the water from the
casks. The crews are always liberally supplied with miserable whiskey,
which they sell at a high price to those who will buy, and a few men
are always found in every regiment who will get drunk if they have
a chance. On shore the guard-house can be resorted to, but on board
ship there is no relief from this unbearable nuisance. I do not want
it understood that drunkenness was general in the army, for many men
went through the war without touching liquor, and in my four years’
experience I never saw an officer or enlisted man intoxicated when
going into battle. I believe that what was true during the war has been
true since, and that in no organization—not temperance—can be found
so many total abstainers to the number of men as can be found in the
ranks of the Grand Army of the Republic.
Our trip down the Potomac was pleasant, but soon after leaving the
river a sudden storm struck us; our old craft leaked badly and we
feared we should be swamped. The captain dared not continue, and put
back to Point Lookout. Here we found a deserted hotel and several
cottages. We did not stop to register, but took possession of the
rooms and passed a comfortable night. Next morning we re-embarked,
and reached Fortress Monroe during the night. The following day we
landed and marched to Hampton, where we found the Army of the Potomac
awaiting the arrival of our division. We encamped here about two weeks,
quartered in Sibley tents. We were not required to drill often, and
the time was pleasantly passed in visiting the several Massachusetts
regiments in the army.
Early in April the grand Army of the Potomac moved towards Yorktown.
It _was_ a _grand army_, every regiment having its full quota. The
experience of the previous months had made them reliable as soldiers.
Incompetent officers and disabled men had been discharged, and those
now on duty were filled with patriotic enthusiasm. They only desired a
chance to fight, clear up the war and go home. Every man had confidence
in General McClellan, and almost believed that he was sent by the Lord
to lead us to victory. Whenever he appeared every head was uncovered
and every voice raised in loud hurrahs.
We marched two days and encamped about two miles from the enemy’s works
before Yorktown. We pitched our shelter tents for the first time, and
began army life in earnest. Our rations were served to us uncooked,
and company cooks ordered to the ranks. A company cook is a peculiar
being; he generally knows less about cooking than any man in the
company. Not being able to learn the drill, and too dirty to appear on
inspection, he is sent to the cook house to get him out of the ranks.
We were not sorry when the cook house was abolished.
The first day after our arrival the 19th and 20th Massachusetts
regiments, under command of General Dana, were ordered to reconnoitre
the enemy’s works. We discovered a fortification near Winn’s Mill, and
the 19th was ordered to march through a piece of woods, then along
the front, and discern its extent. We did this under a sharp fire
of musketry. It was not our intention to attack, but as Company E,
commanded by the brave but impulsive Captain Mahoney, was fired upon,
he ordered the men to charge the works, and would have done so had
not Colonel Hincks recalled him. Like a true Irishman that he was, he
did not propose to be fired upon and not fight. The regiment behaved
splendidly under fire; when the musketry was the hottest the clear
voice of Colonel Hincks was heard. “Change front, forward on first
company!” was the order, and it was executed as correctly as on drill.
We lost the first man killed in this skirmish. Andrew Fountain of
Company D, Captain Wass, and several of Company K were wounded.
We went into camp and began to erect fortifications; for nearly a month
we were engaged in that work, besides building corduroy roads and doing
picket duty. While on picket Wm. Morgan was badly wounded by a piece of
shell. He was the first man wounded in Company A.
Our camp was located in a swamp; the rain was almost constant, and the
ground like a sponge. Sickness prevailed to an alarming extent; it was
not an uncommon thing to march half of the company to sick call, but
not all who went were sick. Active service had tired some who, when we
were in camp in Maryland, were anxious to fight, and were constantly
grumbling because we were not ordered in. Picket duty under fire had
given these few the “shell fever.” Loss of voice was the trouble with
many, caused by severe colds. One day I marched my squad of invalids
to the hospital tent; with them was one of the loudest talking men in
the company, but that morning he could only whisper. After the doctor
had examined them all he gave me the list of excused, and my voiceless
comrade was not down. “Hasn’t he excused me?” said B. “No,” was my
reply, in a voice that could be heard a quarter of a mile. “D—n him,
I am the sickest man in the company,” was his indignant answer; but he
went on duty just the same, and never again answered sick call until
wounded. Such cases were the exception, however, and every day the
number grew less, as our men were ordered back to general hospital.
The works we were erecting were of the strongest kind, as it was
intended to besiege Yorktown, and the heaviest guns were mounted for
that purpose. Sunday morning, May 4, found the regiment on picket
duty. It had been a lively night, as the shelling had been constant.
Lieutenant Hume, in charge of an outpost, believed that the rebels had
left the works in his front; sending his opinion back to the commanding
officer, he started to cross the field. No gun was fired and he
continued on. The regiment was then ordered forward double quick, as
others had seen Lieutenant Hume and were anxious to be first in the
works, but the 19th could run either to the front or rear and our flags
were the first to float from the fortifications. We found the portholes
filled with Quaker guns (logs of wood). Men of straw were stationed as
gunners. Every indication of a hasty retreat was shown, as in the camps
in the rear of the works we found fires and breakfast smoking hot,
which we eagerly disposed of. We also found letters ready for mailing,
which went by northern mail instead of southern, as we sent them home.
We marched back to our old camp, packed up, and Monday morning, in a
drenching rain, marched from Winn’s Mill to Yorktown. We were on the
road all night and only made three miles. The mud was knee deep; we
could not go out of line as the ground was full of torpedoes, yet, in
all our misery, Company A started one of our old camp songs, which was
taken up by other companies in the regiment, then by other regiments
in the brigade, and soon the entire army was singing. This continued
nearly all night. The next day we took steamers, and at night arrived
at West Point. We remained on board until morning, then landed, and
finding our forces engaged we were ordered to support Captain Porter,
1st Massachusetts battery. At West Point we saw a feature that we
never saw before, or at any other time during the war. It was a human
telegraph. A line of men was deployed some twenty feet apart, and
extended from the line of battle to headquarters. The men at the front
would start the message, and it would be repeated by each turning the
head to the rear as he spoke. One message I remember,—“Send a man to
take Daniel Webster’s place.” We supposed Daniel had been shot, but if
a man was wanted to fill the place of our lamented Daniel Webster, we
did not think Company A could spare the man. After a sharp fight the
rebels fell back and we began the march up the peninsula. The condition
of the roads was such that we halted more than we marched, but at last
we reached the banks of the Chickahominy River, and were ordered on
picket between Bottom and Grape Vine bridges.
Saturday, May 31, the battle of Fair Oaks began. We were not relieved
from picket until Sunday morning, when we were ordered to the front;
here we were marched from right to left and left to right, constantly
under fire but not really engaged. We were at times passing over
portions of the field that had been held by the rebels, and the ground
was strewn with the dead and wounded. When the battle ended we were
ordered on picket, where we remained ten days, having a brush with
the rebel pickets every day. We were then given a few days’ rest and
ordered to the front, where we threw up a line of works and remained
there while the army held the advance position.
On the 25th of June General Hooker asked for one regiment from Sumner’s
corps to assist in the attack on the rebel lines in our front. The 19th
was selected. We advanced in front of our intrenchments and were soon
hotly engaged. Led on by our gallant colonel, we soon had the rebels in
full retreat, and had the army advanced at that time I am confident we
could have marched into Richmond in five hours, as we were only a few
miles from the city. Just as we were ready to make the final charge an
aid came to Colonel Hincks and said, “You are ordered to fall back.”
“What for?” said the colonel. “Don’t you see we have got them on the
run?” But the order was peremptory and back we went. Our loss was very
heavy for the short time engaged. Lieutenant Warner of Company H and
several men were killed; Lieut. J. H. Rice, Sergt. Samuel H. Smith,
William R. Meldon, Benjamin Jellison and others, in all about sixty,
badly wounded.
While we had been under fire nearly all the time since arriving at
Yorktown, this was the first square fight in which we had been engaged.
We had no chance for the use of tactics as the woods were thick and
we could see little of the enemy; but the officers and men behaved
splendidly, and our only regret was to lose so many and accomplish
nothing, an experience that the Army of the Potomac often had in the
battles that followed.