GRANT’S HEADQUARTERS AT CITY POINT.
City Point, a little insignificant wharf town on a point of land at the
intersection of the Appomattox with the James River, about 25 miles from
Richmond and seven or eight miles from Petersburg, leaped into world-wide
importance in 24 hours in June ’64.
Gen. Grant made his headquarters there until the surrender of Lee and it
was the base of supplies for the army of the James, as well as the army of
the Potomac.
Think if you can what it would mean to Sackets Harbor, if an army of
75,000 to 100,000 men should make that town the base of its operations
against Watertown, and over on the Pillar Point shore was another army
half as large.
Do you know what it means to clothe and feed such an army with the bare
necessities, to say nothing of what the horses require to live upon or of
the shiploads of ammunition that was used in the nine months’ operations?
All had to be transported there by water, so you can imagine what a vast
number of transports filled the river.
Admiral Porter’s fleet of monitors, gunboats and other warlike craft were
anchored off Bermuda Hundred in sight of Grant’s headquarters, which was a
modest log house on the bank of the Appomattox.
Gen. Grant was the least pretentious general officer in the army and used
to walk and ride around with only one orderly with him, and seldom wore
any insignia of his rank.
About a mile from his headquarters, towards the front, were the great
field hospitals of the army. Large wall tents were used and they covered a
vast acreage of ground.
It is not likely that so many sick and wounded were ever gathered together
in this country before, and it is to be hoped that there may never be a
repetition of it.
Transports left daily loaded with sick and wounded, for as soon as a
patient could stand the trip he was sent north to make room for the daily
arrivals from the front.
President Lincoln and many other distinguished men were Gen. Grant’s
guests at different times, and Mrs. Grant spent most of the fall and
winter with her husband.
The cannonading along Butler’s lines as well as at Petersburg could be
plainly heard at City Point.
A WAR-TIME RAILROAD.
Gen. Grant wanted a railroad for the transportation of supplies and
ammunition to the front and he had one built.
There was no pretense of grading; they just placed ties on top of the
ground and laid the rails across them.
After the road reached the front it was run along in the rear of the lines
and as they were extended the road followed.
The “Johnnies” got a range on the road for a mile or more and they wasted
a lot of ammunition trying to hit the flying trains, which were partially
protected by earthworks.
They did not run any parlor cars for the soldiers in those days and one
day when the writer was the bearer of some dispatches to City Point he
rode in a box car with Gens. Horace Porter, Forsythe and other officers of
Grant’s staff, and it occurred to him that we were in greater danger than
when at the front. After we got out of the car I heard the engineer
talking about the flying run and laughing about the shaking up he gave the
officers.
BEN BUTLER.
Ben Butler was the most unique character of the civil war on the Union
side and was as full of eccentricities then as in public life in later
years.
When Gen. Grant started out on his campaign against Richmond in 1864 he
sent Gen. Butler with a force of 40,000 soldiers around by water to
operate from the south side.
Butler landed his army on Bermuda Hundred, a peninsula that lies between
the James and Appomattox rivers and there the confederates hemmed him in,
or as Gen. Grant expressed it, “bottled him up” until Grant’s army arrived
at Petersburg. Then his intrenched position became of vast importance in
the operations against the confederate capital.
The 10th artillery boys, who were with that portion of the army on Bermuda
Hundred, will remember Butler’s “Dutch Gap” canal.
The historic James river, from City Point to Richmond, is one of the
crookedest streams in the country, and the rebel batteries had command of
a seven-mile bend in the river that Butler thought to get around by
cutting across lots, so to speak.
The distance across was not much over a half mile, and Butler conceived
the idea of a canal. The banks were high and it required a vast amount of
labor to make the excavation.
The position was exposed to the fire of the rebel artillery and they kept
up an incessant bombardment of the men at work who had holes in the banks
after the manner of swallows and when things got too hot they would crawl
into their individual bomb proofs.
Butler did not get his canal finished in time to be of service to the
gunboats before the fall of Richmond but I understand it was completed
after the war.
A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION.
One day when I happened to be at City Point a terrible explosion occurred.
It was as though a hundred cannon had belched forth. The shock was almost
overpowering. The ground trembled and the first thought was that the
confederates had in some way gotten a position where they could shell
Grant’s headquarters and the hospitals. Looking up we saw a dense column
of smoke rise to a great height and then spread out like a parachute and
from it fell death dealing missiles in every direction. Some exploded as
far away from the landing as the hospitals. Shell flew in all directions.
It literally rained muskets, sticks, pieces of iron, etc. When the smoke
cleared away the scene from the bluff overlooking the wharves was
sickening. Bodies were lying in every direction, blackened and many
without heads, arms or legs.
The cause of the accident was a mystery until after the war when on the
trial of Werz at Washington a rebel witness confessed that he had done it,
making excuse that he had a package for the captain of an ammunition boat
at the wharf. He knew the captain was away from the boat so he left the
package containing an infernal machine for him with the fuse adjusted so
that an explosion would soon follow.
Among the other curiosities at the Point was a stockade where the rebel
prisoners were corralled until they could be sent north. Another stockade
was called a “Bull Pen,” where all the deserters, bounty jumpers, bummers
and other freaks were kept until their cases could be disposed of.
LEE’S DESPERATE ATTEMPT.
One morning before daylight in March, 1864, when President Lincoln was at
City Point, Lee made a desperate attempt to break the lines in front of
Petersburg.
It is said his plan was to capture Fort Stedman and adjacent works, turn
their guns on our demoralized troops, capture the railroad running to City
Point and destroy Grant’s communication with his army.
Fort Stedman was held by the 14th New York heavy artillery, a regiment
with many members from northern New York, and the lines at this point were
very close together.
The confederate troops assigned for the desperate work were commanded by
Gen. Gordon. Under the cover of darkness they stealthily advanced on the
pickets, captured them and made a rush and captured the fort without
hardly firing a shot and took prisoners part of a 9th corps division. The
guns of the fort were turned on neighboring forts and the confederate
troops pushed forward as far as the railroad cutting the wires that led to
Grant’s headquarters. But their success was of short duration for our
troops soon rallied and drove them out of Fort Stedman, and the movement
proved a failure and a costly one to the confederates.
The next day President Lincoln and Gen. Grant visited the front lines.
“HANCOCK’S FOOT CAVALRY.”
Campaigning with the 2d corps in 1864 was strenuous enough to satisfy the
most adventuresome. The frequent detours of the command from the rest of
the army and the rapidity with which they had been shifted from left to
right and right to left caused the confederates to style them as
“Hancock’s Foot Cavalry.”
After the direct assaults on Petersburg failed the corps was sent to
extend the lines to the Weldon and South Side railroads. Then Gen. Grant
sent them north of the James to act in conjunction with Gen. Sheridan’s
cavalry in an attempt to break the rebel lines at Chapin’s Bluff on the
James river, near Deep Bottom, and after some stubborn fighting, they were
ordered back to Petersburg to support Gen. Burnside’s forces at the mine
explosion.
Then after a few days of comparative quiet Gen. Grant planned another
moonlight excursion for the wearers of the trefoil.
On August 13, we marched to City Point and embarked on steamers, the
destination of which we had no idea of. Many surmised we were going to
Washington to assist in driving Early out of Maryland. Probably it was
intended to give such an impression to the enemy, for we sailed down the
river towards Fortress Monroe, but after dark the steamers were turned
about and under the cover of darkness we were carried up towards Richmond,
and a landing was effected the next morning at Deep Bottom.
The other troops at that point were the 10th corps and Gen. Gregg’s
cavalry. Several unsuccessful attempts were made to break the rebel lines
and the second day our troops had to fall back, and in this retreat our
brave old color bearer was killed, and the national colors were barely
saved from the hands of the enemy by the daring of a young man whose name
I cannot recall. The bravery he displayed that day entitled him to a medal
of honor and a commission, but he did not get either, although he did live
to carry the flag until Lee’s surrender.
NO REST FOR THE WEARY.
After this affair we were returned to Petersburg and without any rest were
hurried off to assist the 5th corps in a demonstration across the Weldon
railroad. Several miles of the track was torn up. The ties were burned and
the rails piled on the fires. Rations having failed to connect, we
subsisted principally on green corn, which was roasted over huge fires.
A PATHETIC INCIDENT.
In the movements to extend the left of Grant’s lines at Petersburg the
cavalry always blazed the way, usually preceding the infantry by a few
hours. I recall a touching incident that illustrates the devotion that a
cavalryman’s horse has for the man who has been its inseparable companion
for months.
We found one day a dead soldier lying on the ground and near him grazing
was his faithful horse.
The bloated and discolored features of the dead cavalryman indicated that
he had lain there for hours. Probably he had been on picket duty when
“picked off” by some sharpshooter, and by his lifeless body his faithful
and devoted charger had waited for the boy in blue who to his comrades was
simply one of the “missing.”
REAM’S STATION.
The night of August 24, our corps rested at Ream’s Station a name of which
many veterans have keen recollections. In the morning the pickets
reported that the enemy were in force in the vicinity, and accordingly
preparations were made to receive them. About 2 p. m. the enemy made an
attempt to break that part of the line held by our division, which was
then under command of Gen. Nelson A. Miles, but they were repulsed. Later
a larger force, backed by 30 or 40 pieces of artillery made a second
attempt and succeeded in forcing a portion of the line held by some troops
new to the field. The situation was critical, as the confederates greatly
outnumbered our troops and the enemy had worked around under the cover of
the woods until the attacking force was on our flanks and rear. The affair
would have ended disastrously but for the coolness and bravery of both
Gens. Hancock and Miles, who rallied the troops and led them in person.
Gen. Hancock’s horse was shot under him, but with hat in hand he called on
the officers and men of his old corps to stand by him and drive the enemy
off. Ah, but he was indeed a superb officer, and men never desert such a
leader.
Among the killed of our regiment that day was George Curtin, the popular
leader of the regimental band. This was a fight in which it was all
“front” and no chance for the musicians to get to the rear.
After this affair there was a lull in active operations for a while, the
picket firing and artillery duels along the intrenched front furnishing
spice enough to relieve monotony.
In the latter part of October we “slewed” around to the left again, the
object being to get possession of the South Side railroad. The second
corps encountered a large force of the enemy on the 27th on the Vaughn
road near Hatcher’s Run, and a fiercely contested battle took place.
Portions of the 5th and 9th corps were also engaged.
Gen. Winslow’s regiment, the 186th New York, joined the 9th corps that day
and were near enough to hear some of the fighting and get a smell of
powder but I believe did not take a hand in the affair.
In November, Gen. Hancock was called to Washington by the secretary of war
to organize a new corps for the army, which it was intended should be made
up principally of veterans who had served their time and been discharged.
The men of his old command who had served under him so long were greatly
attached to him and regretted his departure exceedingly.
In a report to Gen. Grant he mentioned among other things the losses of
his corps as 25 brigade commanders, 125 regimental commanders and over
20,000 men. Comment is unnecessary.
BIG BOUNTY MEN.
The army received large accessions of recruits during the fall of 1864.
The big bounties had induced all sorts of characters to enlist. A large
per cent. were professional “bounty jumpers,” who were ready to desert to
the enemy at the first opportunity.
The 5th New Hampshire of our division, a regiment that had an enviable
record as fighters, had their depleted ranks filled up with conscripts,
substitutes and bounty takers who deserted in such numbers to the
“Johnnies” that their pickets used to joke our men about sending over the
colors of the regiment, and one day a huge placard was hoisted on the
rebel intrenchments which read something as follows:
“Headquarters 5th New Hampshire vols. Recruits wanted.”
A member of our company while on picket one night shot one of the
attempted deserters and as a reward was granted a 30-day furlough.
If a deserter was caught no mercy was shown him.
The penalty was death by shooting or hanging, usually the latter, as
shooting was considered too honorable. Scaffolds were erected in the rear
of the works and almost every Friday there were numerous executions along
the lines.
ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS LOOKED SMALL.
I recall a story told at the expense of one of the big bounty men who
joined us just before setting out on the last campaign. He had hardly a
chance to learn to handle a gun when he was sent out on the skirmish line
and pretty soon the “minies” were coming his way thick and fast. His
comrade was a son of Erin, and an old “vet” who went before the bounties.
The nerves of the big bounty man were getting pretty badly shattered,
which was noticed by Pat, who sang out: “I say, there, me laddy buck! How
large does your $1,000 look to ye’s now?”
“About the size of a silver quarter,” was the truthful response.
Another incident illustrates the practical manner with which the officers
regarded the lives of their men. A veteran captain noticed some of the new
accessions to his company needlessly exposing themselves, as he thought,
and this is about what he said to them: “Get down behind the breastworks;
you cost twelve hundred dollars a piece, and I’ll be d--d if I am going to
have you throw your lives away; you’re too expensive!”