THE WINTER AT FALMOUTH.
Camp at White Oak Church--"The mud march"--Return to
camp--General Neill--General Hooker supersedes General
Burnside--Burnside's magnanimity--General Hooker as a
soldier--Reconstruction--The cavalry organized--Business
departments renovated--The medical department--Ambulance
system--Quartermasters' and commissary departments--Life in
camp--Snowball battles--In the Seventy-seventh--The Light
division--Review by General Hooker--General John Sedgwick--Scene
at head-quarters--Review of the army by the President--Preparing
for the campaign.
The men built huts, and made themselves as comfortable as they could, in
their camp at White Oak Church, but disease spread rapidly, especially
among the recruits. The regiments were crowded closely together on
ground too low and wet for good camping ground, and the men, having
never before erected winter quarters from shelter tents, were not so
expert as they became in the succeeding winters; so they suffered from
inconvenient quarters, as well as from the low ground and crowded camps.
[Illustration: White Oak Church]
Our army was now composed in large part, of the recruits sent from the
north during the preceding summer and autumn, and thousands of these had
never had any idea of fighting or of suffering the privations of army
life. They had enlisted for the large bounties which were paid at that
time, with the determination to leave the service as soon as their
bounties were paid, and a favorable opportunity offered itself for
escape. Desertions became alarmingly frequent; indeed, when a few weeks
later General Hooker assumed command, there were more than eighty-four
thousand absentees, with and without authority. The great number of
desertions, we think, should be attributed to the fact that so large a
proportion of the new recruits had enlisted for money, rather than to
the demoralization of the army.
Notwithstanding the inconveniences to which the men were subjected, and
the advance to midwinter, the weather was in our favor. The sun shone
brightly, the days were warm and the roads dry. It became evident that
General Burnside was determined not to allow the delightful weather and
the excellent roads to pass unimproved. Indications of a general
movement crowded upon us, and on the 20th of January came the order to
march.
The whole army broke camp and moved toward Banks' Ford, two miles up the
river from White Oak Church. On the march, an order from the commanding
general was read to the troops, announcing to them that the auspicious
moment had at length arrived when we were to reap the glorious fruits of
our long toils. At five o'clock we halted in the thick woods at Banks'
Ford, the point selected for crossing the river, and in a few minutes
were quietly and comfortably bivouacked out of sight of rebels on the
opposite side. Scarcely had we settled ourselves for a comfortable
night's rest, when the clouds, which had been gathering since morning,
broke in rain, and the delightful Indian summer gave way to the rainy
winter of the south. All night long the rain poured, and all the next
day. It was evident we had waited too long. But the commander was
determined not to abandon his effort to outflank the enemy. By morning,
the roads were so softened by the rain, that horses could not haul
artillery or pontoons into position. Men took the place of horses. The
whole Vermont brigade was detailed to drag the pontoons and guns to the
river. All day long, working and tugging with the mud above their knees;
here a hundred men pulling at a pontoon boat, there a party prying a
cannon out of the mire with long levers, and still other parties laying
strips of corduroy road. The Vermonters passed a disagreeable day.
General Burnside was not idle all this while. Riding from one point to
another, now personally superintending the placing of a battery in
position on the bank of the river, now encouraging the men who lugged at
the boats and guns, and now selecting places to cut new roads, he passed
the night and the day in fatiguing and anxious labor. As he rode through
the camp of our division in the afternoon, with only two staff officers,
himself and his horse completely covered with mud, the rim of his hat
turned down to shed the rain, his face careworn with this unexpected
disarrangement of his plans, we could but think that the soldier on
foot, arm oppressed with the weight of knapsack, haversack and gun, bore
an easy load compared with that of the commander of the army, who now
saw departing his hopes of redeeming the prestige he had lost at
Fredericksburgh.
Men were detailed from each of the regiments of the corps to return to
Falmouth, a distance of five miles, to bring on their backs two days'
rations; those brought by the men being nearly exhausted. But during the
night it was determined to abandon the attempt to cross the river. The
enemy, by this time fully aware of our intention, was prepared for us,
and a crossing could only be made at great sacrifice, perhaps with
defeat. So at sunrise in the morning we were on the road back to our old
camp; this time for permanent winter quarters. All along the road lay a
multitude of dead horses and mules, which had fallen in the tremendous
but unavailing efforts of the day before. Artillery and wagons still
stuck fast in the mud, and cannoniers and teamsters lifted and tugged
with rails and with poles to raise the piece or the wagon from the mire.
The mud was deep, the day was gloomy and the men were discouraged. They
straggled badly. Regiments were not to be distinguished. The whole
column became an unorganized crowd, pressing toward the old camps. Tired
and discouraged as were the men, they kept up their lively sallies and
jokes, as though all was smooth work. Toward evening the troops of our
corps arrived on their old ground, now to be our home until the opening
of spring, and at once fell to work to restore to some degree of comfort
that most desolate of scenes, an abandoned camp. Unfortunately, on
leaving the place, little thinking that they were so soon to return,
they had burned everything combustible, and thus a strip of board or a
piece of timber could hardly be found within the limits of the corps.
Nevertheless, comfortable quarters were soon erected, and the routine of
drills and picket was resumed.
Brigadier-General Neill, who was assigned to the command of the Third
brigade, was active in encouraging his men to provide good quarters, and
in furnishing every facility in his power to make them comfortable. The
general was a portly gentleman, with light red hair and whiskers, and a
small blue eye, ceremonious in his style, and a perfect pattern of
courtliness. He had, at West Point, won the appellation of "Beau Neill,"
a title which never left him. He was a good commander in camp. He
originated the brigade dress parade that winter, often calling out the
brigade on fine evenings, and substituting the brigade for the
regimental parade. The custom was at length adopted in many brigades in
the army of the Potomac; but few gave credit for the improved parade to
the originator of it.
The second failure of General Burnside rendered his removal from the
command of the army a thing to be expected; and no one was surprised
when the order came relieving him, and assigning General Hooker to the
command. It must be confessed that our failure at Bank's Ford had done
much to demoralize the army and destroy the confidence in the commanding
general so absolutely necessary to success. On our way back from Bank's
Ford, as we passed Fredericksburgh, we saw huge placards posted up by
the rebels with taunting inscriptions, such as "Burnside stuck in the
mud," printed in conspicuous letters. The men caught up the words, and
"Burnside stuck in the mud" passed from one end of the disordered column
to the other. When we had failed at Fredericksburgh, the men were as
willing as ever to try again under the same commander. They believed him
to be at least earnest and brave. They knew that he was noble and
self-sacrificing. In the noble letter to General Halleck, in which he
assumed all the responsibility for the failure at Fredericksburgh, they
found renewed assurance that he had all the qualities of a true
soldier--bravery, integrity and true manhood; but an army must have
success, or it cannot long repose confidence in the general. So, while
the Army of the Potomac regarded General Burnside with great respect, it
gladly welcomed the advent of "Fighting Joe Hooker" to the command.
General Hooker had fairly won the title of "Fighting Joe" at the
slaughter of Williamsburgh, where, almost single-handed with his
division, he had stemmed the tide of battle for hours, until reinforced
by Kearney, and then, with the help of that hero, had held the whole
rebel army until it was outflanked by our Second division.
In all the battles of the Peninsula he had been conspicuous, and at
South Mountain and Antietam his fighting propensities were exhibited in
more than their wonted splendor. In person he was of large stature, with
fine features, brilliant eye, his side whiskers and ruddy countenance
giving a more youthful appearance than his light gray hair would
indicate. His gleaming eye told of the spirit which animated the man,
and his determined air betokened the persistent and fearless soldier. In
battle or on review he rode a magnificent milk white steed, a powerful
animal and of extraordinary fleetness. Mounted on this superb war horse,
he was the most conspicuous, as he was always one of the handsomest men
in the army.
The energy of the new commander soon began to be manifested in the
reconstruction and reorganization of the whole army. The first step in
the progress of reconstruction, was the revocation of the order making
three grand divisions of the army. By the abolition of the grand
divisions, Generals Sumner and Franklin were relieved from their
commands; and the corps commanders, no longer subject to intermediate
commanders, were again directly responsible to the general-in-chief of
the army. Doubtless General Hooker had seen that the creation of these
grand divisions had much to do with the failures of General Burnside.
The cavalry next engaged the attention of the general. The whole force
was thoroughly reorganized and put in an efficient condition, under
command of Major-General Stoneman. Hereafter, men were not to ask, "Who
ever saw a dead cavalryman?" To General Hooker, the cavalry of the Army
of the Potomac owes its efficiency and the glorious record it from that
time made for itself.
The superiority of the rebel cavalry, in the early part of the war, was
generally attributed to the supposed fact that the young men of the
south were so much better horsemen than those of the north. In reality,
this had little, if anything, to do with it. It is even very doubtful if
there was any difference in favor of the superior horsemanship of the
southern cavalry. Their strength lay in their union. The rebel cavalry
was organized from the beginning; ours was an incoherent mass of men,
having no proper relations or dependencies within itself. From the day
that it became organized, the superiority of the rebel cavalry passed
away forever. We had always better horses, and our men were certainly
never inferior to the rebels. All that was needed was the proper
combination of action; and, as soon as this was secured, our cavalry
became the finest in the world.
The business departments were also thoroughly renovated. The changes in
the medical, quartermasters' and commissary departments were such as to
bring each to a standard of perfection, which had never before been
reached by those departments of any army in the field. No army had ever
been provisioned as was ours that winter. Soft bread, potatoes, beets,
carrots, onions, fresh beef, flour, sugar and coffee, constituted the
regular rations of the men, and facilities were afforded for procuring
luxuries not in the regular supply.
The medical department became so thoroughly systematized, that wounded
and sick men were cared for better than they had ever been in an army
before. This radical change had commenced under General Burnside; but
was perfected under General Hooker, by the efficient and earnest medical
director of the army, Dr. Letterman; to whom belongs the honor of
bringing about this most desirable change.
By the new system, the surgeons were enabled to accomplish a far greater
amount of work, and in much better order than under the old; and the
wounded were better and more quickly cared for. By this system the
hospital of the division was the unit. From the division, a medical
officer of good executive ability was selected, to whom was assigned the
general oversight of the hospital. One or more surgeons of well known
skill and experience were detailed from the medical force of the
division, who were known as "operating surgeons;" to each of whom was
assigned three assistants, also known to be skillful men, who were
either surgeons or assistant surgeons. To the operating surgeons all
cases requiring surgical operations were brought, and thus the wounded
men had the benefit of the very best talent and experience in the
division, in the decision of the question whether he should be submitted
to the use of the knife, and in the performance of the operation in case
one was required. It was a mistaken impression among those at home, that
each medical officer was the operating surgeon for his own men. Only
about one in fifteen of the medical officers was intrusted with
operations.
From each brigade an assistant surgeon was detailed to provide food and
shelter for the wounded. His duty was to superintend the erection of
hospital tents as soon as there was a prospect of an engagement, and to
have hot coffee and rations of food ready for the wounded as soon as
they came to the hospital; he was to attend to their clothing, bedding
and rations as long as they remained in the hospital.
Another assistant surgeon from each brigade was selected to keep the
records; to take the name and character of wound of every one who was
brought to the hospital, with the operation, if any; and the list of
deaths, the place of burial, and all other matters necessary to record.
An assistant surgeon was to remain with each regiment, and attend to
getting the wounded from the field into the ambulances, and to arrest
hemorrhage in case of necessity.
Thus, all labor was systematized. Every officer and nurse knew exactly
what to do: each had his own part of the work assigned to him, and there
was no conflicting of orders or clashing of opinions.
Our ambulance system was also very perfect--so complete, indeed, that,
after a year of trial in the Army of the Potomac, congress adopted it as
the ambulance system of the United States. To Doctor Letterman, also,
belongs the honor of originating this system.
The ambulances of each corps were under command of a captain, who acted
under directions from the medical director of the corps. A lieutenant
commanded the ambulances of a division, and a second lieutenant those of
a brigade. To each ambulance was assigned a driver, and two
stretcher-bearers; and to three ambulances a sergeant, mounted. The
ambulances of a division always went together, behind the division, and
on the march were attended by a surgeon, an assistant surgeon, a
hospital steward, a cook, and three or more nurses, who were to attend
to the wants of the sick in the ambulances, and at night, if any were
unable to return to their regiments, to erect tents for them, and supply
them with food and bedding. In an engagement, the stretcher-bearers of
each regiment, with the sergeant, reported to the assistant surgeon in
attendance with the regiment. As soon as a man was wounded, he was
brought to the medical officer, put into an ambulance, and taken to the
division hospital. By this means, ordinarily, every man was carried to
the hospital of his own division.
The improvements in the quartermasters' department were nearly as great;
and we have already alluded to the abundant supplies furnished by the
commissary department.
Great difficulty was experienced by the troops of our corps in getting
wood. The men of our Second division lugged wood on their backs a mile
and a half, with which to do their cooking and warm their tents. But
notwithstanding the hardships they endured, the inclemency of the
winter, and their severe picket duty, the men were gay. In many of the
regiments, the sounds of the guitar and accordion could be heard every
evening; and on pleasant afternoons and evenings, parties assembled in
the company streets and danced cotillions, and polkas, and jigs, to the
music of violins. When snow covered the ground, mimic battles with
snowballs were a frequent amusement. At times, one regiment would
challenge another, and a general melee would follow. Snowballing was,
particularly, a favorite amusement with our friends of the Twenty-first
New Jersey, who never let an opportunity pass for indulging in their
favorite sport. Each party carried its flags and was led by officers
chosen for the occasion. The capture of a flag, or of a number of
prisoners, from an opposite party, caused great glee among the victors.
A good deal of interest was excited throughout the Second division by a
snowball battle between one of the Vermont regiments and the
Twenty-sixth New Jersey. Both regiments formed in line of battle, each
officered by its line and field officers, the latter mounted. At the
signal, the battle commenced; charges and counter-charges were made,
prisoners were taken on either side, the air was filled with the white
missiles, and stentorian cheers went up as one or other party gained an
advantage. At length victory rested with the Vermonters, and the Jersey
boys surrendered the field, defeated.
Another favorite amusement in the corps was the game of base ball. There
were many excellent players in the different regiments, and it was
common for the ball-players of one regiment or brigade to challenge
another regiment or brigade. These matches were watched by great crowds
of soldiers with intense interest.
In our Seventy-seventh regiment, matters went on much the same as in
other regiments of the corps. We had our share of disease and
desertions. We had our ball-players and our violinists; our singers and
our story-tellers, as every regiment had. At regimental head-quarters,
matters went on gaily. It was the custom of the officers of the field
and staff to collect in one of the tents as evening came on, and, in
company with friends from other regiments, pass the hours in lively
converse, in singing and relating amusing stories.
We had a glee book and an old copy of the "Carmina Sacra," and then our
friend, Colonel, now Major-General, Connor, was never at a loss for a
song, and Colonel French often displayed his genius with the violin, and
our friend, the chaplain, could always tell a good story or perpetrate a
joke. Chaplain Norman Fox was an accession to our staff, who joined us
when we first encamped at White Oak Church. He was a gentleman of
enterprise and talent, who, soon after his arrival in camp, instituted a
series of religious meetings on week days, in addition to the regular
services of the Sabbath, and a good deal of religious interest was
awakened among the men.
Among other changes, we lost one of our most valuable and beloved
officers. Dr. Campbell, who had for weeks been declining in health, was
obliged to resign. The doctor was a most genial and companionable man,
and an excellent officer. We greatly missed his hearty laugh, his fund
of stories and ready wit in our social gatherings. The doctor was
afterward appointed surgeon of the Fortieth New York, but was attacked
with spotted fever, from which he recovered only after a long illness,
during which he again resigned.
The First brigade, Second division, which for some time past had been
under command of General Calvin A. Pratt, was broken up, and a new
brigade, called the "Light division," was formed from the regiments of
the First brigade, and one regiment from each the First and Third
divisions. The regiments were, the Fifth Wisconsin, the Sixth Maine, the
Thirty-first and Forty-third New York, and the Sixty-first Pennsylvania.
Colonel Burnham, of the Sixth Maine, was placed in command.
Among other reviews in the Sixth corps during the winter, was one by
General Hooker, of our Second division and the Light division. The
troops were formed in line, and the general and staff were escorted to
the ground by the Twentieth New York, of Neill's brigade, in splendid
style. The regiment was composed entirely of German Turners. Their drill
surpassed that of any regiment of regulars, and the exquisite neatness
they displayed in their dress and in the care of their equipments,
together with the perfection of their movements, made them the finest
appearing regiment in the service, when on parade. It is to be regretted
that the prestige of the regiment was not always sustained on the
battle-field. As the regiment and cavalcade appeared on the field, it
was a brilliant pageant; first came our brigade band, one of the finest
in the army, then the pioneers of the Twentieth, their axes, shovels and
picks polished so that they glistened in the sunlight like burnished
silver; then the Twentieth regiment, in column by company, marching with
step as perfect as though all were directed by a single will; following
the regiment, rode General Hooker on his superb white horse, a head and
shoulders above all his cavalcade. The immense suite, consisting of
General Hooker's own staff, and a large number of major-generals and
their staffs, completed the brilliant column. The division was drawn up
in a line, stretching a half a mile across the field, straight as the
flight of an arrow, with artillery on either flank. The general and his
brilliant retinue, rode to the right of the line, and advanced slowly
along the front of the whole division, inspecting closely each regiment
as he passed, the bands playing "Hail to the Chief," the colors dipping,
and the bugles pealing notes of welcome. Having passed the entire front
of the line, the chief now rode at a rapid pace along its rear to the
point of beginning. He then, with his attendants, took a position on a
slight elevation of ground at a distance from the line, when the whole
division, in column, marching to the place, passed in review before him,
and the pageant was ended.
An important change in the command of our corps occurred about this
time. General Smith, who had so long commanded our division, and for
some time past our Sixth corps, was relieved of his command, and ordered
to the department of North Carolina. His successor was General John
Sedgwick, then well known as one of our best division commanders, and
one of the sternest soldiers in the Army of the Potomac. Bred as a
soldier, he had served with great distinction in Mexico, and at the
breaking out of the rebellion he had joined the Union army, and was soon
placed in command of a division in Sumner's corps, which, under his
command, became the best division of the corps, as the Sixth corps
became the best in the army. Modest and retiring in his ordinary
intercourse with his fellows, he exhibited the most brilliant qualities
in time of battle. The dignity of his bearing fitted him to command, and
he needed not the insignia of rank to command the deference of those
about him.
None who witnessed the farewell reception of General Smith, will forget
the scene at corps head-quarters. The two generals, the old and loved
leader of the Second division and of the corps, and the new commander,
stood side by side. General Smith, tall, well dressed, his regulation
coat buttoned closely about him, his easy and graceful manner and
conversation; General Sedgwick, of stouter build, wearing a loose blouse
and coarse blue pants, such as are furnished the private soldier, strong
and manly in his appearance, and somewhat abrupt in his manner. Officers
returned to their camps satisfied that although the corps had lost a
favorite commander, it had also gained a brave leader.
One of the grand events of the winter was the review of the whole army
by President Lincoln. The review continued two days. The first was
occupied in reviewing the Second, Fifth, Sixth and Third corps; the
second of the remaining corps. It was a most imposing spectacle, never
to be forgotten by those who were actors or spectators. The President,
in his civilian's dress and tall hat, accompanied by General Hooker, and
followed by an immense suite, was welcomed by the thundering of
artillery as it fired the national salute. The different corps were
drawn up in line, each occupying a plain within sight of the others.
Riding in front of the corps, the President and the immense cavalcade
passed along the whole line, inspecting carefully each regiment, then
returned in the rear. This inspection over, the President and staff
stationed themselves in some favorable position, and the whole corps
passed in review before him. The same process was repeated with each
corps.
How one unaccustomed to such physical fatigues could endure such labor,
commencing early in the morning and only resting at dark, was a wonder.
It seemed as if the President's physical, like his mental constitution,
could bear up under the most trying and continued labors. As the warm
weather of spring appeared, the men adorned their camps with evergreen
trees and beautiful arches, so that the camps presented a pleasant
appearance; but we had little time to enjoy these, for as soon as the
roads began to be passable, preparations were pushed forward for the
spring campaign.