THE REGIMENT LEAVES NEWPORT NEWS--ORDERED TO
FREDERICKSBURG--BATTLE OF CENTREVILLE--A DRILL IN THE FACE OF
THE ENEMY--MARCH THROUGH MARYLAND--BATTLES OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN
AND ANTIETAM--THE SONG OF THE DYING SOLDIER--A LIST OF THE
KILLED AND WOUNDED.
During the latter part of August, 1862, Sumner’s corps began to leave
Newport News and proceed to Fredericksburg. On the 24th, the Irish
Brigade broke camp, went on board the steamer “Commodore,” and after
lying off Newport News about forty-eight hours, steamed down the James,
and from thence to Aquia Creek Landing, on the Potomac, where it
disembarked. On the 27th, it proceeded by rail to Fredericksburg, and
went into camp with its division on the north bank of the Rappahannock.
Fredericksburg was then a beautiful town, showing none of those
distressing signs of war which marked many other portions of Virginia.
The recent showers had imparted an emerald hue to the whole country;
the gardens about the town--which stands on a high bluff on the south
side of the stream--were filled with blooming plants and trees laden
with luscious fruits. Such a scene of peace and plenty as this the
sunburnt and destitute soldiers of the Peninsula had not feasted their
eyes upon for many months; the place seemed to them like a real Eden,
into which they had suddenly and unexpectedly been dropped.
“It is rumored that we are to stay here during the remainder of the
season,” says a soldier of the Twenty-ninth, in a letter to his
friends, little dreaming how soon they were to leave this quiet spot
and endure the hardships of another campaign. “It is rumored” was the
familiar and stereotyped language with which all false camp stories
commenced; and as they generally promised some better or happier
experience than that of the present, none labored to dispel the
pleasing illusions which they created, though these were repeatedly
swept away by sad and bitter events. The soldier alluded to had barely
finished his letter before the order came to march. Tents were struck,
rations issued, and the men turned their backs on the green hills
of Fredericksburg, never again to look upon the town in beauty and
tranquillity. Going to the railway station, the Brigade took the cars
and returned to Aquia Creek Landing, there embarking on the steamer
“Louisiana” for Alexandria, arriving at the latter place on the evening
of the 28th. The troops did not land here until the morning of the
29th; and as soon as they touched the shore, marched out to Camp
California, about ten miles up the river toward Washington, pausing
for dinner. On this march occurred a humorous incident. The Irish
Brigade, in moving along the road with its tattered flags, the clothing
of its men being almost as ragged as its banners, had occasion to
pass the camp of a recently-mustered Pennsylvania regiment. The great
contrast between the bright, new uniforms of the Pennsylvania troops
and the shabby ones of the war-worn Brigade, led to much bantering,
and many severe things were said by both sides. Finally, a soldier of
the Pennsylvania regiment, with stentorian voice and in a triumphant
manner, bawled out, “What have you done with your knapsacks; thrown ’em
away, haint you?” The men of the Brigade were without knapsacks, and
this impudent inquiry seemed difficult to answer satisfactorily. Very
promptly, however, one of the soldiers of the Twenty-ninth replied,
“Thrown ’em away? Yes, ---- you, we’ve thrown away four sets.” This
left the victory with the Brigade, and stopped the jangle; for it was
an indirect way of saying what could not be denied, that the Brigade
was composed of veterans, while the Pennsylvanians had not been long
enough in the service to part with even one set of knapsacks, and were
therefore very green. The four regiments of the Brigade went into camp
that night at Arlington Heights.
General Pope was calling loudly for re-enforcements during these gloomy
days, and the Army of the Potomac, the bulk of which was in and about
Alexandria, had been ordered forward by General Halleck. Generals
Sumner and Franklin were directed to make rapid marches to join Pope.
On the morning of the 30th, the Irish Brigade marched, halting for a
few hours at Fort Corcoran, only three miles distant from Arlington. As
again showing the utter ignorance of the men of the intended movements
of the army, and of the experiences in store for them, the brief halt
at this fort led to a _rumor_ that the regiment was to stay there for
a period of thirty days to recruit; and so thoroughly believed was
this report, that some of the men went leisurely at work “doing their
washing,” so that at about three o’clock in the afternoon, when the
order to march came, more than one soldier, half stripped, had nearly
all his clothes “in the wash,” and one unfortunate corporal, who had
taken a notion to wash both shirt and trousers, was called away so
suddenly, that he was obliged to march all night in his drawers and a
thin blouse, carrying his wet garments with him. Even the commanding
officer of the regiment, who for the first time in many months was
contemplating “a square meal,” was so much surprised by the order to
move, that he was obliged to quit, leaving his dinner boiling in the
pot and two live geese tied behind his tent, having made elaborate
preparations for a long stay.
The regiment reached a point about two miles beyond Fairfax Court-house
that night, halting beside the road leading to Centreville. Long before
reaching here, the noise of the battle of the Second Bull Run was
distinctly heard.
August 31, the march was resumed early in the morning, the Brigade
reaching Centreville about noon, joining the other troops of General
Sumner’s corps, and taking its place in the line. Soon after, the whole
corps moved up and took the front line of the army, notwithstanding the
fact that the men were nearly destitute of ammunition.
The remains of General Pope’s army had fallen back to this place
in a disorganized condition, and on the following day commenced to
retreat toward Washington, Sumner and Franklin protecting their rear.
Here our comrades of the Twenty-ninth, who were stationed on a high
hill, that afforded them an extended view of the country, witnessed
another wholesale destruction of stores and supplies. It was not an
exact repetition of Savage’s Station, yet so closely resembled it,
as to make the sight a familiar one, and call up in their minds many
recollections of the retreat from Richmond.
During the afternoon of September 1, General Sumner’s corps were the
only Union troops that remained on the field. The enemy were close at
hand, the Fifth New Hampshire, indeed, being at that moment skirmishing
with them only a few hundred yards from the main body of our troops.
The order for the corps to fall back had been given; but the brave old
commander was in no haste about it, and for the purpose of inspiring
his men with confidence, and teaching them habits of coolness, he
caused the various divisions to execute the order (to fall back) by
the regular tactic formations. The ground chanced to be favorable
for this plan. The veteran General sat upon his horse in the midst
of his troops, giving his commands in a cool and deliberate manner,
that excited the admiration of his soldiers. It was altogether a
novel scene,--an army on drill in the face of the enemy; the various
movements were skilfully performed, and were so planned as always to
keep one of the divisions in line of battle facing the enemy, and
covering the other troops in the rear. All the while these evolutions
were going on,--which occupied some hours,--the corps was slowly
retiring.
It was late in the night before the Brigade commenced to fall back
toward Washington. Earlier in the evening, the enemy, under A. P.
Hill and Jackson, had attacked a portion of our retreating column;
and while the contest was raging fiercely, a violent tempest arose,
“the artillery of earth meeting with a response in the still heavier
thunder of the skies.” This was a repetition of another of the events
at Savage’s Station, as was also the gloomy, comfortless night and the
hardly less gloomy march that followed. While on the march that night,
a long ambulance train, filled with wounded, moved along over the road,
and in halting to give the train an opportunity to pass, the regiment
became divided, nearly an hour elapsing before the two portions managed
to unite.
On Tuesday morning, September 2, the Brigade halted two miles west
of Fairfax Court-house. The regiment was here thrown out in the rear
as skirmishers, and were shortly after attacked by the Confederate
cavalry. Pettit’s battery, being in position near them, fired a few
shots at the enemy, and put him to flight. At three o’clock in the
afternoon the regiment was relieved, and at five o’clock marched with
the Brigade to Fall’s Church, and from there to Langley’s, reaching the
latter place during the night. The distance marched this day was not
far from eighteen miles, and proved to be so severe a strain upon the
already overtaxed men, that many were unable to keep up, and not a few
were made dangerously sick, Lieutenant Hathaway of Company C falling
senseless by the way and never afterward being able to rejoin his
command.
On the afternoon of the 2d, the Brigade passed the Potomac on Chain
Bridge, marched through Georgetown, and from there to Tenallytown,
about six miles from Washington. This was a pleasant little village.
The men had a good, clean camping-ground, but no tents. The absence of
tents, however, had ceased to be counted as a discomfort. The soldiers
had long been in that state of mind which caused them to look upon
a green pasture or field with feelings of supreme contentment. The
Brigade remained in Tenallytown till Friday the 5th, and then went to
Rockville, nine miles distant. The men were compelled to march in the
fields, General Banks’s corps, the artillery, and trains taking the
road. On the 6th, Sumner’s corps passed through Rockville, and formed a
line of battle two miles north of the town, with Banks’s corps on the
left. There was some skirmishing during the day between the Union and
Confederate cavalry. No further movement of importance was made until
the 9th, and then the corps performed a distance of about ten miles,
stopping for the night near Seneca Mills. The whole army was moving in
the same direction, though by different roads.
The marches were not at this time very long nor forced; the country
through which the army moved was very picturesque and fruitful; the
fields were filled with corn, and from these the soldiers had many
delicious meals,--roasting the milky corn, gathering peaches and apples
from the well-laden orchards, and not seldom supping upon fresh pork
(purchased of course of the country people).
The towns of Middlebrook, Clarksburg, and Hyattsville were successively
passed on the journey between the 10th and 12th, at the latter place
being only a few hours behind the rear guard of the enemy. On the
13th, our army marched through Frederick City, and were joyfully
received by the people. Only three days before, the city had been
occupied by the armies of Lee and Jackson; and notwithstanding the
presence of the enemy, the loyal people avowed their sentiments with
great freedom. It is reported that the pious General Jackson, while
remaining in the city over Sunday of the 7th, attended divine services
at the church of the Rev. Dr. Zacharias, and that the undaunted
clergyman, in a firm voice, prayed for the President of the United
States in the presence of the Confederate General. The treasonable
proclamation of General Lee, issued about this time, met with a cold
response; and although some recruits were obtained for his army, the
majority of them shortly after deserted and returned to their homes.
The ragged and filthy appearance of the Confederate soldiers, many of
whom were barefooted, tended to disgust even the Secessionists (who
had not sufficient moral courage to follow the fortunes of the brave
soldiers of the South); and when the Southern army retired, and the
Patriot army followed, all classes were about equally jubilant.
Upon leaving Frederick City, the Confederates retreated towards
Sharpsburg. Twelve miles from Frederick City, and three from
Middletown, is Turner’s Gap, through which runs the Middletown Road.
This Gap is one of several passes in the South Mountains, here nearly
one thousand feet high. At this place a large force of the enemy made
a determined stand, and on the 14th, a desperate battle was fought,
General Reno’s Ninth Army Corps being conspicuously engaged, and that
gallant General losing his life. The battle resulted in a complete
Union victory.
General Richardson’s division arrived at the base of the mountain at
nine o’clock in the evening of this day, and the men slept on their
arms all night. On the morning of the 15th, the division passed up the
mountain, the Irish Brigade being in advance. The enemy had fled during
the night, leaving their dead unburied and their wounded uncared for.
The ground in many places was thickly strewn with the dead and wounded
of both armies; one poor fellow (a Confederate) was still alive, having
been shot through the head, the ball coming out at the eye. Thirty-four
of the enemy’s dead were counted in one spot only a few rods square.
The place where the Pennsylvania Reserves (“Bucktails”) charged up the
precipitous mountain-side, bore sad evidence of the bloody character
of the battle. The dead and mangled bodies of both friend and foe were
in some places mingled together; the wounded, lying among rocks and
deep thickets, were calling aloud to the passing soldiers for water
and aid. The summit and westerly side of the mountain, down which the
Confederates fled, gave proof of the extreme panic which seized them at
the close of the battle; guns, blankets, and equipments were scattered
about the ground in great profusion. It was very encouraging to our
soldiers to witness these indications of the retreat of their valiant
old enemy of the Peninsula, who, less than two months before, had put
them in the same awkward plight, and caused them untold hardships.
On this day, the division of General Richardson, with the exception
of a few cavalry, was in advance of the entire Union army. The other
corps, except Franklin’s, followed towards the middle of the day.
General Richardson came up with the enemy about three miles from
Keedysville. The Confederates were posted on a number of wooded hills,
little less than a mile from and on the southwest side of Antietam
Creek; their lines extended across the Sharpsburg Road, their right
resting on a creek only a mile from the Potomac River. General
Richardson did not cross the creek, but took up a position on the
easterly side. About three o’clock in the afternoon, other portions
of the army came up; Pettit’s battery took ground on the hill where
the Twenty-ninth was stationed, and shortly after, the battery was
joined by two pieces of flying artillery, when matters became lively
at once. The enemy had been amusing himself for some hours before, by
shelling our unprotected lines. Our artillery at once answered his
fire, Pettit’s battery especially making some most excellent shots, in
one instance driving the Confederate gunners from their pieces. This
artillery duel continued nearly the whole day; and at one time, towards
the close, the division, in changing its position, became badly exposed
to the enemy’s fire, but fortunately few lives were lost.
On the morning of the 16th, our army was well up towards the creek,
with well-formed lines. Pettit’s battery was relieved in the forenoon
by another of twelve 20-pounder Parrotts; and these our Brigade
supported all day. The enemy had almost exact range of our position,
but his shell not exploding, did little execution. There was, however,
some loss, and Corporal Tribou of Company C (Twenty-ninth), who carried
the State colors, was severely wounded, losing his left foot above the
ankle.
While the exact nature of the situation was not known to any except the
officers of high rank, yet, when the day closed, there was probably not
a private soldier along the line who did not realize that the army was
on the eve of one of the greatest battles of the war.
On the 17th of September, which was one of the many beautiful days of
the early Southern autumn, was fought the renowned battle of Antietam.
The preceding night had been devoted to watching, manœuvring, and
careful preparation by the commanders of both armies. Generals Hooker
and Mansfield had crossed the creek with their respective corps
during the night, bivouacking on the farm of J. Poffenberger, in the
vicinity of the enemy’s left;[34] and at daylight on the 17th, these
troops became hotly engaged. While the battle was in progress, General
Sumner’s corps was ordered to fill a gap on the left of the Union army,
where, up to that time, there had been no fighting.
At nine o’clock, General Richardson’s division received its order to
march. Moving from the position it had occupied during the night of
the 16th, the Irish Brigade again in advance, the division made a wide
detour to the right, and forded the creek, the men entering the cold
water to their hips. General Richardson, with his staff about him, sat
on his horse near the creek; and as the various regiments filed past
him, addressed the Colonels in his usual stern manner: “No straggling
to-day, Colonel! Keep your men well up and in hand.” When the troops
reached the opposite shore of the stream, they were halted for a few
moments, the men seizing upon the chance to empty their shoes, wring
their stockings, and adjust their equipments. A flock of sheep quietly
grazing on the hillside gave the place an air of peace, and but for
the loud peal of artillery on the right, the men would have scarcely
imagined themselves amid scenes of war.
Now came the second order to march. The ground was ascending, and the
Brigade moved by the flank, the Sixty-ninth in advance, and next to
them the Twenty-ninth. No sooner had the troops begun to move, than the
enemy opened upon them, from the vicinity of Dr. Piper’s and Roulette’s
houses, a galling artillery fire.
The crest of the hill was soon reached. The order was here given for
the Brigade to form “a line of battle, and move forward till they met
the enemy.” Under a terrible fire, the Brigade formed its line with
great rapidity and in fine style, in the following order: Sixty-ninth
on the right; next the Twenty-ninth; on their left the Sixty-third; and
on the extreme left the Eighty-eighth. About this time, General Meagher
was disabled, “his horse having been shot under him.”[35]
In front of the line was an open field, over which the enemy’s shot and
shell came bounding and crashing incessantly, making great gaps in our
line, and strewing the ground with the dead and wounded. “Forward!”--a
welcome order; and the Brigade moved rapidly over the field. The enemy
increased his fire, but the line moved on. A hundred yards in front
was a Virginia fence; on the other side was another field and slightly
rising ground; over the crest of the rising ground, a sunken road; and
on the farther side of the road, an extensive corn-field and orchard.
As the regiments neared the fence, a yell went up from the corn-field,
and instantly springing to their feet, a long line of the enemy ran out
towards our men, crossing the road and mounting the crest, where they
delivered a mighty volley with deliberate aim. In an instant the air
seemed filled with hissing bullets and large splinters from the fence.
Our line wavered a little; the fire was frightfully destructive. The
field-officers perceiving this, ran through the ranks to the front.
Instantly the line stiffened. And now for the fence. “Tear it down!”
Immediately two thousand strong hands seize it, and it is flat upon
the ground. “Forward!” Everything moves like clock-work. Without firing
a shot, the Brigade moved in perfect line toward the sunken road, the
enemy all the while firing deadly volleys. “Look at the perfect line of
the Irish Brigade as it moves on the enemy!” said General McClellan to
his generals, as he sat on his horse, near the creek. “Yes,” says the
brave old General Mansfield, who was present and watching the movement
with intense interest. “I claim the credit of having drilled the
Twenty-ninth Massachusetts Regiment of that Brigade.”
Two-thirds of the distance across this bloody field was performed
before came the order to “halt!” and at the same time the command
to “fire!” The volley that played out along the line towards that
terrible crest made the hills ring far and wide. It was spitefully
done, and very effective, for instantly the Confederates fell back from
the summit into the sunken road, receiving as they did several other
volleys. No sooner in the road, the enemy, nothing daunted, commenced
to fire over the bank. That part of our line held by the Sixty-ninth
and Sixty-third was much exposed, while the Twenty-ninth, its usual
“good luck” not forsaking it even here, was protected by a little
ridge in its front and a slight depression of the ground upon which it
stood. This did not in any way affect their range on the enemy,--the
corn-field opened wide before them, their shots cutting off the stalks
of green corn as would a scythe, and having their effect upon the enemy
who were hiding there.
An hour had nearly elapsed since the front had been reached; several of
the captains had reported that the guns of their men were getting so
hot that the rammers were leaping out of the pipes at every discharge.
The men had already nearly expended their ammunition. Several times
during the battle the enemy had undertaken to come forward, but as
often as they attempted it, they were swept back by our fire. Since
General Meagher had been disabled, there had been no general officer
present, each colonel acting upon his own responsibility. The enemy
were well covered and determined.
Up to this time neither regiment had known the fate of the others, nor
the extent of their respective losses. Colonel Barnes now hastened to
the right of the Twenty-ninth, for the purpose of taking a careful
survey of the field. To his dismay, he perceived that the Sixty-ninth,
though holding on bravely, had lost nearly half their number; the
Sixty-third had fared equally as hard, and the officers and men of
both regiments were striving to keep up their formation. The Colonel,
feeling a deep responsibility, saw at once that something must be done
to prevent disaster; he knew, though he had received no orders since
entering the fight, that from necessity the Brigade would soon be
relieved, and was every moment expecting to hear the welcome shouts of
fresh troops. Hastily giving his idea to Major Charles Chipman, his
brave and worthy subordinate, he called upon the regiment for three
cheers. The Major took the order to the left, and the boys gave the
cheers with a will. Colonel Barnes then gave the order, “forward!”
Instantly Sergeant Francis M. Kingman, the dauntless color-bearer,
sprang to the front, the whole regiment promptly following him. Above
the noise of the battle were heard the answering shouts of the brave
Irishmen of the Brigade, their warlike spirit gaining fresh impulse as
they started forward on the charge.
The crisis was over now; the bold forward movement had saved the
Brigade from even one blot upon its bright record of fame. The shouts
of our men, and their sudden dash toward the sunken road, so startled
the enemy that their fire visibly slackened, their line wavered, and
squads of two and three began leaving the road and running into the
corn. Now the rush of troops was heard in the rear; now the air was
rent with wild yells. It was altogether too much of a shock for the
enemy; they broke, and fled for the corn-field. The next moment,
Caldwell’s brigade, led by General Richardson in person, with Cross,
Barlow, and all its other heroes, came sweeping up behind the shattered
lines of the Irish Brigade. “The lines were passed by the Irish Brigade
breaking company to the rear, and General Caldwell’s by company to the
front, as steadily as on drill.”[36]
The night of the enemy was now complete. In a few moments Caldwell’s
men were in possession of the road, and driving the Confederates
through the corn-field and into the orchard beyond. The Irish Brigade,
upon being thus relieved, fell back a short distance to the rear,
retiring behind the first hill it had passed upon moving to the front.
It had been in battle one hour and fifteen minutes. It was a sad sight
to witness the broken and decimated ranks of the Sixty-third and
Sixty-ninth, as they halted under the brow of the hill. The Sixty-third
had lost very heavily of its officers and men, while the Sixty-ninth
suffered even worse. Of seventy-two recruits who had joined the
latter regiment a few days before, and who went into the battle with
new uniforms, but two of the number escaped unhurt. Even in retiring
from the front, the Brigade had suffered greatly from the fire of the
enemy’s artillery, the Twenty-ninth suffering with the rest, though
fortunately escaping the battle with a loss of only forty-four.
Panting from heat and exhaustion, the men at once stretched themselves
upon the ground; but the Twenty-ninth had only rested a half-hour
before they were again summoned by General Richardson to come to the
front. Upon approaching the crest of the hill near the sunken road,
the regiment was observed by General Richardson, who was personally
directing the fire of a battery in a very exposed position. He beckoned
Colonel Barnes to his side, and said, “I pray you, give me a canteen of
water; I am dying of thirst.” The Colonel going back to the regiment,
brought one of the numerous canteens, freely offered; but the General
had barely raised it to his lips, when an exploding shell mortally
wounded him.
The men, with sad hearts, watched the bleeding officer, as he was being
borne away, never to return to his command, and then moved on toward
the brow of the famous hill, now being swept by the artillery of the
Confederates. Here the Twenty-ninth formed on the left of Caldwell’s
brigade, and immediately threw out a line of skirmishers into the
corn-field, joining the Fifth New Hampshire and other troops of the
division engaged in a lively skirmish with the enemy, who was in the
orchard, posted behind the trees and a long line of board fence, that
ran along the edge of the orchard. The enemy’s troops here stationed
were the same encountered by the Brigade in the battle of the morning,
and were said to be a part of General Pryor’s division, the flower
of the Confederate army. They were most excellent soldiers, fighting
throughout the day with a determination that excited the wonder and
admiration of all who encountered them.
The regiment retained the position just described during the remainder
of the day and the night which followed. The enemy, with guns stationed
in the orchard, and in advantageous positions on the right, enfiladed
a part of our line here with murderous effect. General Hancock
having assumed command of the division upon the wounding of General
Richardson, was everywhere present, and exposed himself frequently to
the fire. Hoping to silence the batteries of the Confederates, he sent
forward several of our batteries to the hill last mentioned, and among
them the “Dutch Battery,” so called. The latter came up well, but had
fired but four rounds, when the men were driven from their guns, the
regiment dragging off the abandoned pieces under the most perilous
circumstances.
This part of the line was the scene of some of the most interesting
events of the day, and every inch of ground was purchased with blood.
The land over which Generals Richardson’s and French’s divisions fought
was irregular in the extreme; “was intersected by numerous ravines,
hills covered with growing corn enclosed by stone walls, behind which
the enemy could advance unobserved upon any exposed part of our
lines.” Once during the day the enemy attempted to gain the right of
Richardson’s position in the corn-field. This movement was happily
frustrated by the skilful manœuvres of General Brooks’s brigade.
General Caldwell’s brigade, after relieving the Irish Brigade in the
forenoon, “with determined gallantry,” not only drove the enemy in
their front, but taking the Confederate line in flank, at the right
of the Brigade, captured three hundred prisoners and three stands of
colors.
Shortly after the assault on the right, the enemy attempted to turn the
left of the division, but were gallantly met by the Fifth New Hampshire
(under the famous Colonel Cross) and the Eighty-first Pennsylvania.
After a sharp contest and a remarkable charge by these regiments, the
enemy fled in confusion, “leaving many killed, wounded and prisoners,
and the colors of the Fourth North Carolina, in our hands.”
When night came, the Twenty-ninth regiment still lay at the front, in
the corn. They were on the skirmish line, and under such a constant
fire from the enemy, that it was impossible to relieve them. During
all the long hours of the darkness that followed, the men lay upon
the ground, listening to the piteous moans and cries for help of the
wounded soldiers of the enemy, who were lying about the field between
the two lines, and could not be removed nor reached with safety. These
sad sounds were occasionally drowned by the crash of musketry and the
dismal hissing of bullets. In this manner the night was passed by our
soldiers at the front; and the day which succeeded was scarcely less
distressing in its experiences.
Although the battle was not renewed on the 18th, yet the two armies
lay facing each other during the whole day and a part of the following
night. Before light on the morning of the 18th, Company F, under
Captain Tripp, which had been on the advanced line in the corn-field
since noon of the 17th, where they had been terribly exposed, was
relieved by Company C, under First Lieutenant N. D. Whitman, and
Company K, under Captain Pray. Even in the darkness, the work of
relieving the men at the front was attended with great risk. The two
lines were less than one hundred yards apart; the enemy were intensely
savage, and kept up a random but almost incessant firing. When the
daylight came, matters were much worse; for, beside being more exposed
to the fire from the orchard, our men suffered greatly from the heat of
the sun, which poured down on their backs, being obliged to lie upon
their faces between the rows of corn.
A large number of wounded Confederates were still scattered through the
corn-field, some of them only a few yards distant from our pickets.
The constant cries of these poor fellows, who were begging our men to
remove them and give them water, excited the sympathy of our soldiers,
and many brave, and even reckless, efforts were made during the day
to relieve their sufferings. One soldier of Company C[37] crawled on
his hands and knees a distance of several yards toward the Confederate
lines, in order to give a wounded enemy a drink of water from his
canteen, the bullets of the Confederate sharpshooters striking close
about him, and covering him with dust.
Another of these humane undertakings gave birth to an occurrence much
talked of among our soldiers at the time, and which resulted in a
temporary suspension of hostilities. Of the several versions given
of this affair, the author chooses the following as being probably
the most correct: Near the lines of the Fifth New Hampshire (in the
corn-field), was lying a wounded Confederate officer. He was suffering
greatly, and had been beseeching Colonel Cross’s men to take him into
our lines. At last, Colonel Cross, moved deeply by these appeals,
procured a canvas stretcher, and with the assistance of some of his
men, went to the officer’s aid. Creeping stealthily along the ground,
they neared the spot where the man lay, and pushed the stretcher under
him. In doing so, a portion of the white canvas appeared above the tops
of the corn. The enemy in the orchard observing it, immediately--and,
doubtless, only too gladly--took it for a flag of truce, and at
once ceased firing. After a little delay, General Pryor(?) of the
Confederate army appeared, bearing a white flag, and General Meagher
was ordered to meet him and ascertain his wishes. When the two officers
met, each demanded of the other to know why the flag of truce had been
raised, and each insisting that the flag had not been raised by their
side, a somewhat heated conversation followed, when the two officers
parted, and the firing immediately recommenced, Colonel Cross taking
advantage of the lull to remove the wounded officer from the corn-field
and convey him safely into our lines, where he was kindly treated and
his wounds dressed.
During the night of the 18th, the enemy withdrew, but, as is well
known, no movement took place during the following day. On the 19th,
the last sad duties in connection with the battle were performed by our
soldiers; namely, the burial of the dead. The Twenty-ninth was chiefly
employed in this work during a greater part of the day, the part of the
field assigned to them being the corn-field, sunken road, and orchard.
Here the dead of the enemy (our own having been removed during the
battle) were very numerous, and in the first stages of decomposition.
Many of them had been lying on the field under the scorching rays of
the sun for nearly forty-eight hours, and were swollen and black, and
emitted a disgusting odor, fairly sickening our burial-party, who
dug long trenches three feet deep, in which the dead were placed and
covered with earth, as decently as circumstances would allow. In some
places, as many as twenty-five bodies were found in a heap; in others,
as many as seventy-five mangled and blackened victims were found lying
only a few feet apart.
The trees in the orchard showed plainly the fierceness of the strife,
which for two days and two nights had raged there with hardly a
moment’s cessation. The trunks of the trees were literally filled with
bullets, and the bark on the exposed sides wholly stripped off to a
height of from six to ten feet from the ground.
The wounded of the Twenty-ninth had all been conveyed to a brick house
and barn a short distance to the rear, where their more fortunate
comrades paid them frequent visits during the 19th, cheering them with
kind words, exchanging accounts of the battle, and rendering numerous
little services. The dead of the regiment had been carefully buried on
the field, and, where practicable, their honored graves were marked.
The numerous praises bestowed upon the regiment for its valuable
services in this battle were highly flattering to both officers and
men. General Meagher sent a request to Colonel Barnes to visit him at
his tent a few days after the battle, and in the most pleasing manner
expressed his high appreciation of the conduct of the Twenty-ninth. As
the praise bestowed upon the Brigade is justly shared by the regiment,
the author deems it but justice to his comrades to quote in this
connection the words of General McClellan. In his report of the battle,
that officer makes use of the following language:--
“Meagher’s brigade, advancing steadily, soon became engaged
with the enemy, posted to the left and in front of Roulette’s
house. It continued to advance, under heavy fire, nearly
to the crest of the hill overlooking Piper’s house, the
enemy being posted in a continuation of the sunken road and
corn-field before referred to. Here the brave Irish Brigade
opened upon the enemy a terrific musketry fire.... The Irish
Brigade sustained its well-earned reputation. After suffering
terribly, both in officers and men, and strewing the ground
with their enemies as they drove them back, their ammunition
nearly expended, and their commander, General Meagher, disabled
by the fall of his horse, shot under him, this brigade was
ordered to give place to General Caldwell’s brigade, which
advanced to a short distance in its rear. The lines were passed
by the Irish Brigade breaking company to the rear, and General
Caldwell’s by company to the front, as steadily as on drill!”
Honorable mention of the Brigade is made in two other places in the
report of General McClellan.
One of the members of the regiment, who was an inmate of the barn which
has been alluded to in this chapter, relates the following touching
incident: Among the wounded men here, was a poor soldier, both of
whose legs had been amputated. He had been told by the surgeons that
his case was a hopeless one, and if he had any message to send to his
friends in the North, they would gladly transmit the same. Conscious of
having done his duty, he spoke often of the battle, and then dictated
to the surgeons a brief, but touching, letter to his wife and family.
His thoughts now seemed to turn wholly upon his far-off home, and
forgetting his torturing pains, his face seemed all aglow with the
sweet memories which were floating before his mind. After talking a few
moments, he asked those about him to raise his head from the floor.
Suddenly summoning all his remaining energies, he began to sing in a
clear and very melodious voice, “Home, Sweet Home.” All voices save his
were quickly hushed in deep and attentive silence. The surgeons and
nurses who were on duty among the wounded paused in their labors, and
stood spell-bound and fascinated by the sweetness of his voice, and
his rich cadences. The appearance of the dying singer, his countenance
pallid and bloodless, gave the spectacle a strange, unearthly
character, and the effective rendering which he gave to the tender and
touching sentiment of the song fairly melted the hearts of all present;
and when he finished, breathing out in the utterance of the closing
words the last remnant of his strength, and sank almost senseless upon
his pallet, “there was not a dry eye in the room.” The poor soldier
died in the course of the day, but the incident was made a subject of
conversation among the inmates for several weeks afterwards.
The following is a list of the killed, wounded, and missing of the
regiment in this battle:--
KILLED.
Co. A.--Corporal TIMOTHY D. DONOVAN; Private
EDWARD O’DONNELL.
Co. B.--JOHN J. O’BRIEN.
Co. C.--Corporal ELIJAH H. TOLEMAN; Private DAVID
H. LINCOLN (from injuries received during battle).
Co. E.--Private LAWRENCE R. BLAKE.
Co. F.--Private EDWARD RATAGAN.
Co. H.--Corporal ROBERT F. GREENOUGH.
Co. I.--Private JOHN C. DOW.
WOUNDED.
Co. A.--Privates MARTIN C. MULLEN, EDWARD
KELLEY, ISAAC H. FERRY, JOSEPH S.
FARRELL.
Co. B.--Private CHARLES MCNULTY.
Co. C.--First Sergeant THOMAS CONANT; Corporals D.
W. TRIBOU,[38] GEORGE W. ALLEN;[38] Privates
HENRY A. OSBORNE, THOMAS ARNOLD, NEIL
MCMILLAN.
Co. D.--Second Lieutenant JAMES H. ATHERTON;[38]
Corporal DAVID D. COLEMAN; Bugler BENJ. C.
DALTON; Privates FRANK G. BUMPUS, JOHN
FAGAN.
Co. E.--Sergeant JOHN SHANNON; Corporal SAMUEL C.
WRIGHT.[38]
Co. F.--Lieutenant THOMAS H. HUSBAND; Sergeant
BELA H. KING; Privates JOSEPH L. WESTGATE,
ELISHA WESTGATE; Musician DARIUS BONNEY.
Co. G.--Private JOSEPH DUXBURY.
Co. H.--Musician JAMES A. FORBES; Private WILLIAM
STORY.
Co. I.--Privates THOMAS L. GLASS, CHARLES E.
HARRIS, BENJ. E. THOMPSON.
Co. K.--Privates ELISHA C. RANKS, THOMAS F.
DOLAN.
MISSING.[39]
Co. B.--Corporals H. A. DEAN, THOMAS ----,
CHARLES E. GETCHELL, PHILLIP SULLIVAN.