who, screened from the field by the knoll on which our batteries were
planted, saw little or nothing of the fight--passed the time in chat
with laugh and story, as they stood, or sat, or laid, keeping in some
sort the form of the massed column which was more distinctly marked by
lines of rifles in the stack. Every man of them knew that at any moment
he might be called to be reaper or grain in the harvest of death so
near at hand; but men cannot keep themselves strained up to the pitch
of heroic thought or wearing anxiety, and so within the line of battle
our men joked and laughed and talked and ate, or even slept in the warm
sunshine.
No heartier laugh ever rewarded Irish wit than that which shook
our sides when Guiney, the handsome Colonel of the Massachusetts
9th, bedecking himself in the gorgeous apparel of a brilliant sash,
was reminded that it would make him a capital mark for the enemy’s
sharp-shooters, and replied, “and wouldn’t you have me a handsome
corpse?”
Early in the day, as soon as we were in position in rear of the
batteries, some of our mounted officers naturally desiring to get a
correct idea of the lay of the land and the order of the battle,
rode at a foot pace to the summit of the knoll in front, and from
their saddles were quietly examining the position of affairs through
field-glasses, and pointing hither and yon as they conversed, when
the chief of some rebel battery, possibly suspecting them to be big
generals and high functionaries, began from two guns some practice
with round shot, using the mounted officers for the bull’s-eye of the
target. In their innocence they assumed that this sort of thing was a
matter of course on such occasions, and for a time they went on with
their observations.
It was not long however before the aim became more accurate, and our
officers suddenly became aware of the scared looks of the German
gunners, who, watching for the smoke of the rebel guns, dodged
behind the trail of their own pieces until the shot had passed by,
and presently a sergeant ventured to suggest that the gentlemen were
drawing the fire on the battery, and to prefer the request that
they would send away the horses and pursue their study of the field
dismounted, which not unwillingly they did.
Not far from mid-day, in an interval of comparative quiet along the
lines, most of us stretched at full length basking in the sun and
waiting for “what next?” enjoyed a beautiful sight in the endeavor of
the enemy to shell our division.
As we were hidden from his view no direct shot could reach us, and he
seemed to have calculated that by exploding his shells high in the air,
the fragments could be dropped among our ranks. What became of the
fragments we did not know, hardly one of them fell near us, none of
them did us injury; but we watched for the shells with interest, and
were sorry when they came no more. Gazing up into the clear blue sky
there would from time to time suddenly appear a little cloudlet, which
unfolding itself drifted lazily away, and soon melted in the air. Each
of these cloudlets was the smoke from an exploding shell, the rapid
flight of which gave no other evidence of its existence to the eye, and
all sound was lost in the general tumult. Each seemingly miraculous
appearance of the cloudlet was hailed with admiration, and we were
quite ready to enjoy the entertainment as long as our friend the enemy
chose to supply it, and were inclined to be gruff with him when it
stopped.
While the divisions of Generals Richardson and French were advancing
on the Confederate centre, a gun from one of Porter’s horse batteries
was run out quite a distance to the left, where, from a little swell
of land, entirely unsupported, it opened upon the rebel infantry. The
rake upon the enemy’s line was so complete that after the first few
shots we could see them breaking; but the position was untenable and
after the gun had been discharged perhaps a dozen times, the enemy got
two guns to bear upon it, whereupon our gun was hastily limbered up and
went scampering back to cover as fast as four horses could run with it,
and as it went rebel shots could be seen striking up the dust all about
its track, as the stones strike about an escaping dog when boys are
pelting him.
When such an incident occurred we could hardly refrain from cheers.
And when--as was once or twice the case--we could see some movement of
the enemy against our lines which was unseen to those it menaced, it
was almost irresistible to cry out a warning, and several times shells
from the batteries of our division gave to the Union troops the first
warning of a threatening movement.
Twenty-five days after the battle our Company C on detached service
encamped for a night on the plateau, the summit of the heights which
were won by Burnside’s charge, and Captain Fuller observing that the
line of battle could even then be traced by the cartridge papers
which lay in winrows on the ground, wondered that troops which had so
gallantly charged up the steep ascent should have halted in this place
long enough to have used so many cartridges.
On the 18th of September, Porter’s corps relieved Burnside’s at the
lower bridge, and then we saw only too many of the woful sights which
belong to battle, and saw them without that halo of excitement which in
the midst of the contest diminishes their horror.
On the 19th, at dawn, we were in expectation of immediate participation
in a second battle, but the enemy had retreated. In the pursuit
Porter led the way. After passing through the town of Sharpsburg, the
artillery occupied the roadway, the infantry moving along the fields
on either side. At each rise of the land, a few pieces dashed to the
summit and shelled the nearer woods, the infantry forming in the hollow
in the rear, and so we felt our way a mile or two down to the Potomac.
The rear guard of the enemy had just crossed the river, and General
Griffin with parts of two brigades followed closely, capturing some
prisoners and much property, among which were the very guns that were
lost on the Peninsula from the battery he then commanded.
Returning, he reported the enemy as in full flight, and on the 20th
Porter prepared to give immediate chase. A part of one of his divisions
had crossed the ford and gained the bluffs on the right bank. Our own
brigade was on the high lands of the other bank, when, looking across
we saw the woods swarm out with rebel infantry rushing upon our little
force. A sharp cannonade checked them and covered the return of nearly
all our regiments, but the 108th Pennsylvania was cut off from the
road to the river crossing, and forced to retire up a rising ground,
terminating at the river in a high bluff, from which the only escape
was to scramble down the steep cliff and thus to gain the ford.
The men poured like a cataract over the edge and down the declivity,
and so long as they stayed at its immediate base they were tolerably
safe, but their assailants soon gained the edge of the bluff and lying
flat, could pick off any who attempted to cross to the Maryland side,
and many were killed or wounded and drowned before our eyes.
Our brigade was formed near to the ford; sharp-shooters were placed
along the river bank, and the artillery rattled solid shot upon the
summit of the bluff. After a time the Pennsylvanians began to run the
gauntlet of the ford, but it was several hours before all of them had
left the other shore.
In this time many gallant acts were performed, but none more daring
than that of the Adjutant of the 108th, who, after reaching the
Maryland shore, walked back upon the plate of the dam just above the
ford, and standing there midway across the river, exposed from head
to heels, shouted the directions to his men as to the manner of their
escape from their awkward fix.
When this fight at the ford was over it was near nightfall, and the
army encamped along the river side, the pickets of each army occupying
its own bank, and for weeks it was all quiet on the Potomac.
VII.
_AFTER ANTIETAM._
The life of a soldier in war-time is made up of alternating seasons of
severe toil and of almost absolute idleness. For a few weeks he will
be marched to the utmost limit of endurance--will be set to felling
forests--building bridges or roads--constructing defences--and then may
follow other weeks when his heaviest occupations are made up of drills,
parades, and drawing or eating rations.
Such a time of repose was that which we passed on the banks of the
Potomac, near Sharpsburg, guarding the line of the Potomac which for
lack of heavy autumnal rains was fordable almost anywhere. Generals,
quartermasters and commissaries may have been busy, but it was an idle
time for the bulk of the army. Stretching for some fifteen miles along
the course of the river, the various corps were encamped in due form,
the entire regularity of which could be seen from any neighboring
eminence. From some such points one could take into view a landscape
brilliant with the colors of autumn made yet brighter by the gleam of
the orderly array of white tents, and could see the bounds of each
regiment, brigade, or division, as if marked upon a map. At night,
before tattoo, the lines of lighted tents would show from a distance,
like an army of glow-worms.
To supply the wants of the army of men, another army of wagon trains
was kept in constant occupation, and the road was soon covered with
fine dust, which rose in clouds when it was stirred by the movements
of the trains, or by the horses of mounted officers or men; and as
these roads extended everywhere among the camps, we lived all day long
in an atmosphere of dirt, which when moved by fresh winds, drove and
drifted about to our exceeding discomfort. As the weather grew cooler
this was increased by the smoke of the camp-fires, until everybody was
habitually clothed in dust, and red about the eyes.
Along the picket lines the men of both armies, having agreed not to
fire without previous notice, lolled in the sunshine, chaffed each
other over the water, and occasionally traded newspapers even, or union
coffee for confederate tobacco.
Once in a while there was a foraging expedition or a reconnoissance
across the river. In one of these we captured quite a number of
prisoners at Shepardstown, chiefly officers and men absent on leave
and visiting their friends in that vicinity. One reconnoissance to
Leetown occupied two days, and was followed back right sharply by a
strong force of the enemy. We remember particularly the fact that on
the advance we found where a long-range shell had exploded among a card
party of the enemy’s men, one or two of whom lay dead with the cards
still in their hands.
This uneventful life, aided no doubt by prevalent but not serious
bilious disorders, developed in our Regiment a general tendency to
homesickness and “hypo.” To counteract it several attempts were made to
initiate games and athletic exercises among the men, and the officers
were requested to set an example to the men by organizing amusements
among themselves--but it amounted to nothing, it seemed impossible to
induce the men to amuse themselves.
We kept no very careful note of time. One day was pretty much like
every other. Sundays were noticeable only for the absence of drills
and a little more stupidity. To go home was the height of anybody’s
ambition.
Private Callahan, of K Company, sought to be discharged for
disability--the disability was beyond question, for he was born with
it, and he was told by the Surgeon that he ought not to have accepted
the bounty for enlistment; that he “ought to be hung” for doing it, to
which somewhat severe criticism the soldier retorted that he “would die
first.” It may not be necessary to state that Callahan was Irish. At
Fredericksburg he lost a finger and obtained his coveted discharge.
We were so long here that, as the season advanced, we began to
construct defences against the weather, and the acting adjutant even
dreamed of a log hut, with a real door and real hinges. The only
artificer at his command was his negro servant, a man who could admire
but could not comprehend long dictionary words. The Adjutant, directing
the negro as to the construction of the door frame, told him certain
parts were to be perpendicular, others horizontal, and others parallel;
but the black man’s face showed no evidence of comprehension, until
after a dozen different forms of the same instruction had been resorted
to and the master’s patience was exhausted, the idea penetrated the
darkened mind of the servant, who turned upon the officer with the
pertinent remark, “Why, massa, what you wants is ter have it _true_,
ain’t it?”
New orders of architecture were rapidly developed, and the manufacture
of furniture became an extensive occupation. It was quite wonderful
what results could be obtained in both of these industries by the use
of barrels and hard-bread boxes. Of the barrels we made chimneys and
chairs; and of the boxes, tables, washstands, cupboards, and the walls
and clapboards of our dwellings.
We were really getting to be very comfortable in the latter days of
October, 1862, when the orders began to intimate that we would not live
always in that neighborhood. First, our Company C was detached for a
guard to the reserve artillery, where it served for ten months. Then,
on the 30th, the whole army drew out like a great serpent, and moved
away down the Potomac to Harper’s Ferry, crossing the river there, then
up on the Virginia side, and along the foot hills of the Blue Ridge.
It was lively times again, and the march was rapid--often forced; but
the weather was cool and bracing, and the men were glad of the change.
From the 2d to the 15th of November we were on the eastern slopes of
the Ridge, and Lee’s army in its western valley, racing each for the
advantage over the other.
At each gap there was a lively fight for the control of the pass, but
we were always ahead, and possession is as many points in war as it is
in law. Holding these passes, our movements could be, to a considerable
extent, masked from the observation of the enemy, while his were known
to our General, whose object was to keep the army of the enemy strung
out to the greatest possible length, and at a favorable moment to
pounce upon its centre, divide and conquer it.
With the sound of guns almost always in our ears, we raced away
through Snickersville, Middlebury, White Plains, and New Baltimore
to Warrenton, with little to eat and plenty of exercise. Near White
Plains, on the 8th, we marched all day in a snow-storm, and at night,
splashed and chilled, bivouacked in a sprout field, making ourselves as
comfortable as might be on three or four inches of snow.
Throughout this march the orders were very stringent against straggling
and marauding. No allowance was made for transportation of regimental
rations except the haversacks of the soldiers, and on the march in
cold weather it is a poor (or good) soldier that does not eat three
days’ rations in two. Our changes of base left us often very short of
supplies, and it was not in the most amiable mood that we came to our
nightly camp.
Acting-quartermaster Dana, hungering for fleshpots, was tempted by the
sight of a fat turkey on a barn-yard fence. The road was a by-way, and
not a soul in sight. Before he could recall the tenor of the orders,
he had covered the bird with his revolver, but at that moment General
Butterfield, with his staff and escort, following the abrupt turn of
the road, came upon the quartermaster in the very act, and scared the
bird, which flopped heavily down from the fence and disappeared. To the
General’s angry demand for an explanation, Dana quietly replied that he
was about to shoot that “buzzard.”
“Buzzard!” roared the General, “that was a turkey, sir.” “Was it,
indeed?” replied the innocent officer; “how fortunate, General, that
you came as you did, for in two minutes more I should have shot him
for a buzzard.” Dana thought that, amid the laughter which succeeded,
he heard the General describe him as an idiot, but he was not
sufficiently certain about it to warrant charges against the General
for unofficer-like language.
The hurried march from Sharpsburg to Warrenton was fruitful in cases
of marauding for court-martial trials, but these courts very generally
refused to convict, on the ground that the men had been so ill-supplied
from our commissariat, that some irregularity was excusable.
One of our sergeants, a butcher by trade, strolling about the woods,
came upon a party of men who had captured and killed, and were about
cutting up, a rebel pig. Shocked at the unskilful way in which they
were operating, our sergeant volunteered his advice and services, which
were gratefully accepted. In the midst of the operation the party
was surprised by one of the brigade staff, and the non-commissioned
officer, being tried by court-martial, was by its sentence reduced to
the ranks and deprived of six months’ pay. The story ends sadly, for
his mortification from loss of rank, and possibly his anxiety from fear
that his family might suffer from the loss of pay, caused him to droop
and die.
One of our men, returning from a private foraging expedition laden with
a heavy leg of beef, was captured by the provost guard, and, by order
of General Griffin, was kept all day “walking post,” with the beef
on his shoulder, in front of the headquarters’ tents. As the General
passed his beat he would occasionally entertain him with some question
as to the price of beef, or the state of the provision trade, and at
retreat the man, _minus his beef_, was sent down to his regiment “for
proper punishment,” which his commanding officer concluded that he had
already received.
Yet another soldier was sent to our headquarters by the Colonel of the
Ninth Massachusetts, with the statement that he had been arrested for
marauding. Upon cross-examination of the culprit it appeared that
he had been captured with a quarter of veal in his possession by the
provost guard of the Ninth Regiment. A regimental provost guard was
a novelty in the army, but when, on further questioning, it appeared
that the offending soldier had been compelled to leave the veal at
Colonel Guiney’s quarters, the advantage of such an organization in
hungry times to the headquarters’ mess was apparent, and our Colonel
at once ordered a provost guard to be detailed from the Thirty-second,
with orders to capture marauders and turn over their ill-gotten plunder
to his cook. Unhappily, within the next twenty-four hours, some high
General, whose larder was growing lean, forbade regimental provost
guards in general orders.
It was during our stay at Warrenton that General Griffin requested
the attendance of Colonel Parker and told him, not as an official
communication, but for his personal information, that three officers
of the Thirty-second had, during the previous night, taken and killed
a sheep, the property of a farmer near by. Of course the Colonel
expressed his regret at the occurrence, but he represented to the
General that, inasmuch as the officers of our regiment were not
generally men of abundant means, and inasmuch as they had received no
pay from their Government for several months, and inasmuch as it was
forbidden them to obtain food by taking it either from the rations of
their men or the property of the enemy, he (the Colonel) would be glad
to know how officers were to live? The General, utterly astonished
at the state of affairs thus disclosed, asked in return for some
suggestion to relieve the difficulty. The suggestion made that officers
should be allowed to buy from the commissaries on credit, was, at the
request of General Griffin, embodied in a formal written communication
to him, and by an order the next day from the headquarters of the army,
it became a standing regulation until the end of the war.
On the 10th of November the Army of the Potomac was massed near
Warrenton as if a general action was at hand, when everybody was
surprised by the announcement of the removal of General McClellan from
its command. It was a sad day among the camps. The troops turned out at
nine o’clock, bordering the road, each regiment in doubled column, and
General McClellan, followed by all the generals with their staffs, a
cortege of a hundred or more mounted officers, rode through the lines,
saluted and cheered continually.
It happened that the 32d was the first regiment to be reviewed. Being
a regiment of soldiers, it was accustomed to salute its officers in a
soldierly way, and on this occasion was, probably, the only battalion
in the army that did not cheer “Little Mac,” but stood steadily, with
arms presented, colors drooping, and drums beating. From the surprised
expression on the General’s face, it was evident that for a moment he
feared that he had overrated the good-will of his troops. The incident,
though really creditable to the Regiment, was considered as a slight
to the General, and for a time was the cause of considerable feeling
against the 32d. Even the politics of its commander could not prevent
its being stigmatized as an “Abolition concern.”
At noon the officers of the Fifth corps were received by General
McClellan, who shook hands with all, and at the close of the reception
said, his voice broken with emotion: “Gentlemen, I hardly know how to
bid you good-bye. We have been so long together that it is very hard.
Whatever fate may await me I shall never be able to think of myself
except as belonging to the Army of the Potomac. For what you have done
history will do you justice--this generation never will. I must say it.
‘Good-bye.’” And so the army parted from the first, the most trusted,
and the ablest of its commanders.
VIII.
_TO FREDERICKSBURG._
General Burnside assumed the command and we remained quiet for a week,
then moved slowly away toward Falmouth and Fredericksburg, where we
arrived on the 22d of November, and encamped near Potomac Creek, at a
place afterwards known as “Stoneman’s Switch.” This camp was destined
to be our home for nearly six months, but the popular prejudice against
winter quarters was so great that we were never allowed to feel that it
was more than a temporary camp.
On several occasions we had suffered for want of supplies, generally
not more than for a day or two, and when on the march; but for ten
days after our arrival near Fredericksburg, the whole army was on
short allowance. Our base was supposed to be at Acquia Creek, but the
railroad was not reconstructed and what supplies we got were wagoned
up some miles from Belle Plain, over or through roads which were
alternately boggy with mud, or rough with the frozen inequalities of
what had been a miry way.
Little by little the scarcity became more severe; for a week there
had been no meat-ration, nothing was issued except hard-bread, and
on the morning of Thanksgiving Day, there was absolutely no food for
the Regiment. The evening previous, one box of hard-bread, the last
remainder of the supply of the headquarters’ mess was issued to the
Regiment, giving one half of a cracker to each man, and this was
gratefully received.
That Thanksgiving Day dawned upon a famished and almost mutinous army.
Rude signs were set up in the camp, such as “Camp Starvation,” “Death’s
Headquarters,” “Misery.” Every General as he appeared, was hailed with
cries for “hard-bread, hard-bread!” and matters looked threatening.
In the 32d there was no disturbance, but the men sat about with moody
looks and faces wan with hunger. Officers had been despatched in
every direction in search of food but, it was high noon before even
hard-biscuit could be obtained. Then twenty boxes were procured by
borrowing from the regular division, and they were brought to our camp
from a distance of two miles, on the shoulders of our men.
That morning the breakfast table of the field and staff mess, exhibited
a small plate of fried hard-bread and another of beefsteak, obtained
by incredible exertions of the Adjutant the day before, in order to do
honor to the festival. One must be very hungry to know how sumptuous
the repast appeared, but none of us could eat while the soldiers were
starving, and the breakfast was sent to the hospital tent.