THE WILDERNESS CAMPAIGN.
On May 1 General Lee issued the following order: “Send all extra
baggage to the rear”; and on May 3 he issued an order to cook three
days’ rations. The first order was easily complied with. Back to
Buckingham county was sent my Baltimore coat. The second order was also
easily complied with. Three days’ rations were three pones of corn
bread without any sifting and minus salt. We did not have any sifters
in General Lee’s army; and if we had, we could not have afforded the
loss of the bran.
On the night of May 4, 1864, General Grant crossed the Rapidan at
Germana, United States, and Ely’s fords. We had advanced to Mine Run,
and on the night of the 4th the two armies were not far apart. The
Wilderness is a peculiar country, and in the early days much gold
ore was smelted there. From the Rapidan to Spottsylvania Courthouse,
fourteen miles, is the wilderness proper. It is a slightly undulating
country without hills, but abounds in the thickest growth of pine
or black-jack. The pines are very tall, and range from an inch to
twelve inches in diameter. These small pines grow in thickets, and
in some places it is difficult to walk through. Sometimes you can
walk a mile through nothing but a wilderness of pines, with now and
then a black-jack; then it reverses, and you can walk for a mile in
a wilderness of black-jack, with now and then a pine. The growth
was thus because in cutting timber in the early days for smelting
the undergrowth came up afterwards as described. There were very few
cleared fields in this section, and they took their names from their
owners.
General Grant’s headquarters on the night of May 4 were near the
Wilderness Tavern, and one mile and a half from Palmer’s old field; and
our line of pickets was on the edge of Palmer’s field. A few years ago
I was where General Grant pitched his tent at the Wilderness. The trees
were then standing between which he rested the night of May 4, after
crossing the Rapidan, which was less than a mile distant. That night
everything betokened the conflict on the coming morrow—the neighing of
the horses, the unlimbering of artillery, the commands of the officers,
could be distinctly heard from our lines.
Before taps one of General Grant’s bands struck up the old song once
revered by North and South alike:
The star-spangled banner, long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
The music echoed and reëchoed through that wilderness of pines, and our
band responded with that song so dear to Southern hearts:
Hurrah, hurrah, for Southern rights hurrah!
Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star.
In response to our “Bonnie Blue Flag” General Grant’s band played
“Home, Sweet Home.” Looking back to that scene of May 4, 1864, I have
often thought that if the messenger of peace could have hovered over
the camp that night many would have been saved to family and friends;
for between May 5 and 12 nearly fifty thousand men fell, General Grant
losing nearly forty thousand. General Lee being on the defensive, his
loss was only about ten thousand.
What a contrast between the two armies assembled on the night of May
4, 1864! General Grant’s army numbered about one hundred and seventeen
thousand, and it was the best equipped and best provisioned army
ever marshaled in the United States. On the other hand, General Lee
had only about fifty-five thousand ill clad and poorly fed men, but
they were veterans who had previously held at bay such generals as
McClellan, Meade, Hooker, and Burnside. Many of the men were nearly
barefooted; and some were just from the hospital, with their wounds
not yet healed. The morning of May 5, 1864, found us forming on the
old plank road, my regiment extending across it. There were two roads
extending from Orange Courthouse to Fredericksburg, thirty-two miles
distant. One was called the plank road and the other the dirt road.
Both led out of Orange Courthouse together, but diverged soon after.
At our line they were three miles apart, and it was sixteen miles by
each road to Orange Courthouse or Fredericksburg. The plank road was
nearest the Rapidan River, and our left rested not far from the river
(our line extended three miles), the right resting on the dirt road
near Parker’s store. Running from the Rapidan River and crossing the
plank road and dirt road was the Brock road, extending from the Rapidan
River to Spottsylvania Courthouse, eighteen miles from the Rapidan
River. General Lee made no resistance to the passage of General Grant
across the Rapidan; in fact, all our pickets had been withdrawn when
General Grant first reached and obtained possession of the Brock road.
He thought that General Lee was retiring toward Richmond, but we were
hid in the Wilderness for the time being. His scouts reported our
whereabouts after nightfall of May 4. On the morning of May 5 we were
forming our lines; and as General Grant’s numbers outflanked us, we had
to stretch out the thin gray line, and on my part of the line we did
not have a rear rank, and the front rank files were so far apart that
they could not touch elbows. My line of battle was in a pine thicket
on the edge of Palmer’s field, a clearing of some two hundred feet in
width and some five hundred feet in length. On General Grant’s side of
the field the pine and underbrush were as thick as on our side. Just
in the rear of our line, and running parallel with us, was a newly cut
road on which wagons had recently been hauling out timber. Into this
road we ran a battery of nine pieces charged with grape and canister.
This was our position when, about 3 P.M., the picket lines commenced
firing, and our pickets, who were across the old field, ran to and
joined our ranks. Soon a line of blue appeared on the opposite side
of the thicket and opened a brisk fire, and continued to advance on
us; and the battle of the Wilderness had begun. The One Hundred and
Forty-sixth New York Zouaves were in our immediate front, and their
commander was Major Gilbert. They were as fine-looking a body of men as
I ever saw. They had yellow sashes around their waists, red caps with
tassels, and leggings on their ankles. With our shots and those from
the nine pieces of artillery they were mowed down like grass before
the sickle. It appeared to me that the whole regiment was annihilated.
Another line appeared quickly to take their place, and the battle
waged hot and fast till toward nightfall, when General Grant withdrew
his line into the thicket; and all through the night we lay on our
arms expecting an attack, as the artillery he had placed some distance
off boomed at us unceasingly. On the morning of May 6 eleven hundred
Federals were dead on Palmer’s old field. All their haversacks had
disappeared, and in many instances their knapsacks, and the pockets
of each were turned inside out, showing that their pockets had been
picked. Our men threw away their rations of corn bread, as they had
three days’ rations of hard-tack, besides some bacon and coffee. When
the Federals made their last charge, we were lying down firing, and
after they retired I said to my cousin, who was by my side: “That
was an impetuous charge.” Hearing no response from him, I looked and
saw that a bullet had pierced his forehead, killing him instantly. I
wrapped him in his oilcloth and blanket, and with the assistance of
comrades buried him with a black-jack tree for his headstone, into
which I cut with a knife the initials of his name, then wrote to his
father telling him the spot in case he wished him removed to the old
family burying ground, near Buckingham Church. Some months after, I
received a letter from his father saying: “My son died like a true
soldier on the field of battle, and I shall there let his bones rest.”
After burying all of our dead, Lieutenant George Price, of my company,
and I were sitting on a pine log to rest. All around was quiet except
now and then a shot from sharpshooters. We were only a short distance
from their line, and could see the Federal dead in the old field. We
were talking of the dead boys, and the feelings of the folks at home
when the news should reach them, when suddenly I heard a thud, and saw
the blood gushing from above the heart of my lieutenant. I gathered him
in my arms and lowered him to the earth. He did not speak, but from his
inside pocket gave me a daguerreotype. On opening the case I saw the
fair features of a James River young lady, and one whom I had heard
play and sing “When This Cruel War Is Over.”
On the morning of May 6 about sunrise one of our boys came into the
lines with a pair of boots on his arm. He said that he had been trying
all night to get the boots, but that every time he attempted to pull
them off the soldier would open his eyes. He died just before this, and
our comrade got the boots.
All day quiet reigned in our front, save now and then the sharpshooters
of the enemy, who fired from the tall trees; but of course their shots
were at random, as we could not be seen from their lines. On the right
of our line the battle was raging furiously. General Grant threw the
columns of General Warren against those of Longstreet, and attempted
to turn our right flank as he had failed the previous day to turn our
left. The battle was in a wilderness of black-jacks as thick as ours
was of pines. First one side and then the other advanced and receded
till the end of the day’s struggle, when General Longstreet held the
ground in advance of where it commenced. Eight years ago, when I was
going over the Wilderness battlefield, I came upon a huge stone which
marked the spot where one of the Texas Rangers took hold of the bridle
reins of “Traveler” and carried General Lee from the front to the rear.
The 7th of May was very quiet and quite warm. The bodies of the dead
in the old field were very much swollen, and General Lee sent a flag
of truce to General Grant requesting that we be allowed to bury the
Federal dead, which request was granted. There is very little ceremony
in burying the dead of an enemy. With a shovel the dirt is removed
the length of the soldier and to the depth of eight or ten inches,
and then with the shovel the body is turned into the little trench,
sometimes falling on side or back and sometimes on the face; the dirt
removed from the little trench is then shoveled onto the body, and is
soon washed off by the rains, when the body is mutilated by hogs or
vultures. We had buried but few of the dead when orders came to fall
into ranks, as General Grant was on the march toward Richmond. As we
were in the rear, our march was very slow, and we soon bivouacked for
the night.
On May 8 we passed near where Generals Warren and Longstreet fought
on the 6th, and saw many sickening sights. The wads from the guns had
fired the thick beds of leaves in the black-jack thicket, and some of
our wounded had been burned, and their charred remains were close to
our line of march. We moved very slowly on the 9th of May; but on the
10th, early in the morning, our advance was in position a few miles
northeast of Spottsylvania Courthouse, and General Grant made a furious
charge, trying to dislodge us, but General Lee held the position.
General Sedgwick was killed, and near by is a handsome monument erected
to him. On the night of May 10, by the aid of engineers’ voices (it
was a very dark night), the dead angle was formed, and we commenced to
dig lively with our bayonets, throwing out the dirt with tin plates.
On the night of May 11 the trench was completed and occupied by us, as
we expected an attack at any moment. In building the trench we threw
the dirt out in front, and on top of the dirt placed some small pine
logs, cut out of the thicket. The logs would be of no use in case
artillery was used, but we knew that General Grant could not use it on
account of the wilderness, but the little logs served their purpose
in catching Minie balls. All night there was a steady drizzling rain,
and soon after daylight on the morning of the 12th of May we heard
the pickets firing, and soon they came running in and scampered over
the breastworks and yelled out, “Boys, the Yanks are coming in three
columns!” and soon we were engaged with General Hancock’s Corps.
The battle raged furiously for a while, and the front column of the
Federals was not more than thirty feet from our line. Soon I heard
one of our men say: “Stop firing; they will kill all of us.” I heard
a voice in our rear say, “Surrender,” and it was accompanied with an
oath. I looked up, and General Thomas Francis Meagher’s Brigade was
in our rear, and some of our men were being shot and clubbed to death
with guns after they had thrown down their arms. The big, burly
Irishman that had called on me to surrender had his gun within two
feet of my body and his finger on the trigger. Why he did not shoot, I
will never know. Major General Edward Johnson, commanding my division,
and Colonel Norvell Cobbs, of my regiment, had dismounted previous
to the battle, and were near me in the trenches, and we leaped the
breastworks, grabbing the pine logs on top to assist us over, and we
were in the midst of the attacking column in front. Eleven hundred men
were captured, which comprised all of General Johnson’s division except
seven of my regiment that were on our extreme right. When we reached
General Hancock’s men they displayed the excitement incident to a
fierce charge, and I think we had about four guards to each prisoner.
They rushed to us and said, “To the rear, quick, men”; and away they
ran with us. Of course we know that it was not our personal safety
that they were looking after, but they wished to get out of the fight.
After the war I talked with one of the seven men who was not captured,
and he said that just after we left the trenches General J. B. Gordon
came up with his division, and charged Meagher’s Brigade, tumbling
them into the trenches that we had left and, crossing them, was soon
in the midst of Hancock’s Corps, whose ranks had been so depleted by
his men going with us to the rear that a gap was left in front. It was
in this charge that General Gordon caught the bridle rein of Traveler
and asked General Lee to retire to the rear, as his boys would do the
fighting. Our three or four guards each trotted us to the rear rapidly,
and I suspect would have gone with us as far as Fredericksburg, but
for General Grant; for when we reached his headquarters, about a mile
in the rear, the General was directing couriers to different positions
on the field. When he saw the head column of prisoners attended by
so many guards, he knew why there was trouble in General Hancock’s
ranks. Turning to one of his staff, General Grant said: “Reorganize
that line; for every four prisoners a guard, and place Lieutenant ——
in command.” When the line was reorganized, we proceeded slowly along
the dirt road in single file toward the town of Fredericksburg, distant
sixteen miles. Soon we had to move out of the road and take to the
edge of the woods, for marching in columns of fours were twenty-five
thousand soldiers who had been doing duty as guards since we invaded
Pennsylvania and Maryland. Many of them were members of the heavy
artillery, and had been armed as infantrymen. Each regiment was headed
by a fine band. We were in a sorry plight to meet such an array of
tinseled regalia. Many of our men were hatless, shoeless, and coatless,
and were covered with mud from the trenches. This grand army guyed us
all day. As we met one column a good-natured-looking soldier yelled
out: “Hello, Johnnies! we are taking you North, and will give you
something to eat, put some clothes on your backs, and shoes on your
feet.”
Toward nightfall we bivouacked on the marshy plains of Marye Heights,
overlooking Fredericksburg. The ground was wet and marshy. One of our
boys had a pocketknife, and we cut some chinquapin bushes, and four of
us set back to back on the pile of bushes. This was a good way to rest
and sleep when the wet ground would not allow a horizontal position. We
had a chain picket around our camp. In army parlance a chain picket is
one in which the guards are so close together that with extended arms
they can touch hands; so it would be difficult to get away with guards
so near each other.
[Illustration: THE BIVOUAC]
The next day we went through Fredericksburg, crossed the Rappahannock
River on the pontoon General John Pope built while he was in the
campaign of “On to Richmond, with headquarters in the saddle.” Eight
miles from Fredericksburg we reached Belle Plains, on the Potomac. We
camped a few days here, waiting for transports, and drew very good
rations of hard-tack, bacon, sugar, and coffee. Here I first saw what
was then termed the Christian Commission, whose duty it was to minister
to the spiritual and material welfare of the United States Army. They
did not minister to any of the Confederate prisoners. I guess they
thought we were an incorrigible set.