the homes of Massachusetts, I remember those comrades in arms
whose forms you have left behind. Yielding to the shock of
battle, many of those brave soldier-boys to whom, in behalf
of the Commonwealth, I bade farewell some months ago,
fighting for that flag, defending the rights and honor of our
common country, maintaining the liberties of her people, the
traditions of the fathers, and the rights of humanity--have
been laid low. They sleep beneath the sod that covers the rude
grave of the soldier. Oh, rest in peace, ye hero martyrs, until
the resurrection summons shall call you to that other _Home_!
No longer obedient to any earthly voice or any human leader,
you have made your last report, and in the spirit have already
ascended to join the Great Commander! The humblest soldiers
who have given their lives away, will be remembered so long
as our country shall preserve a history. Their fame will be
acknowledged with grateful affection when ten thousand prouder
names shall have been forgot.
“While thousand as absurd as I,
Cling to their skirts, they still shall fly,
And spring to immortality.”
I give you praise from the bottom of a grateful heart, in
behalf of a grateful and patriotic people, for all that you
have suffered and for all that you have attempted. And now
on this holy sabbath day, let us remember with the filial
thankfulness of sons, with the devoted piety of Christians, as
well as the exulting confidence of patriots what the _God of
our fathers_ has done for us, from the beginning. Unto _Him_
and not unto us be all the praise and the glory. Unto Him who
sitteth upon the throne and ruleth the nations let us give
everlasting ascriptions of praise, that through the trials of
many a defeat, through the despondency of many a temporary
repulse, our arms have been conducted to many a triumph, and
our minds to still loftier heights of moral victory. You are
fighting now for the cause of your country, and also--for
Washington used to love to declare he drew his sword--“for the
rights of human nature.” And now let all of us, living men, on
this holy day and on this sacred spot where our fathers were
wont to meet in the dark hours of earlier history--let all of
us living men, consecrate ourselves anew, by the vows of a new
obedience, to our country, to humanity, and to God.
At the hall the Regiment was dismissed, but only to meet renewed
evidences of cordial hospitality. Company I was entertained the same
day by the civic authorities of Charlestown, and Company K the next day
at Newton. The officers breakfasted with Colonel Parker at the Parker
House on Monday, and on the 16th of February, on the eve of their
return, dined with him at the Revere House, on which latter occasion
Governor Andrew was present and expressed, as no one could do more more
heartily or more genially, his appreciation of the past service of the
Regiment, and his good wishes for their future.
Besides these there were balls and dinners and entertainments to occupy
all the time that the soldiers were willing to spare from their home
enjoyments, until their departure February 17th, and on the Monday
ensuing the Regiment was again in camp at Liberty, with its new title
of “Veteran,” which the 32d was the first, from Massachusetts, to
assume.
XVII.
_THE WILDERNESS CAMPAIGN._
When one of the many interviewers of President Lincoln introduced the
subject of the election of his successor, the President is reported
to have declared, with his wonted quaintness of expression, that “it
wasn’t a good plan to swap horses while crossing a stream,” by which he
was understood to argue in favor of his own reëlection.
Unfortunately he limited in practice the force of this pithy saying
to his own office and his own continuance therein. He showed little
hesitation in “swapping” one general for another, and often selected
the middle of a very rapid stream as the place for the swap.
The last of these changes--that which placed General Grant in command
of all the armies in place of Halleck--was certainly no injury to the
service. Perhaps the greatest mistake of all, in a military point of
view, was that which took General McClellan from the same position. It
was the long-continued service of Lee which made him what he proved to
be--the ablest of the Confederate generals. Such a mistake as he made
in attacking Meade at Gettysburg would, or should have, proved the ruin
of any Union general.
But at last we had generals who had come to stay, and Grant’s obstinate
pluck, assisted by Meade’s tactical ability, well supported by the
political powers at Washington, were to give us final success.
April 30th, 1864, we broke camp at Liberty, and with the army led
by our new General-in-Chief Grant, advanced to meet the enemy. The
first day’s march was only five miles. Our division, gathering near
Rappahannock Station, encamped for the night. The next morning we
crossed the river for the fifteenth time, making another short march to
Brandy Station.
May 3d we marched leisurely to Culpepper (distance six miles), and
halted there several hours. Marched all the night following, crossing
the Rapidan at Germania Ford at eight o’clock in the morning, where we
halted for breakfast. During the day we pushed steadily forward into
the Wilderness, marching till dark, when we bivouacked near Wilderness
Tavern, in close proximity to the enemy.
May 5th.--Early in the morning we were in line of battle, with orders
to fortify our position. We had an abundance of material with which
to build breastworks, and axes, spades, and picks were freely used by
willing hands. In a few hours we built a formidable line of defense,
behind which we expected to fight, but were disappointed (as we had
often been before) when the order “forward” was sounded. About noon we
advanced, leaving our entrenched position for other troops to occupy.
Our division, which had the honor of opening the campaign, moved
cautiously forward to attack the enemy. Soon we encountered their
skirmishers and drove them back to their lines. As we approached the
enemy the Regiment made quick time in crossing a road along which
poured a shower of grape and canister. Scarcely had we reached the
shelter of the woods on the opposite side of this road when we came
under fire of infantry, who gave us a warm reception, but were pushed
back before our steady advance to their second line, where we engaged
them until dark.
In this our first engagement in the Wilderness campaign our Regiment
suffered little, owing to the favorable lay of the ground over which we
advanced. We lost none killed, and but thirteen wounded.
That night we lay on our arms. There was, however, but little chance
for sleep, as we were in the extreme front, and almost within speaking
distance of the enemy. Early the following morning the fighting was
renewed on our right and left, and was then very severe. The rattle
of musketry and the roar of artillery, as it reverberated through the
forest, was terrific. Although we were under the fire of artillery,
with the din of battle thundering in our ears, many of us slept, unable
longer to resist nature’s demand for repose.
A pine tree standing just in the rear of our line of battle was severed
about midway by a cannon ball, and the top fell to the ground and stood
there erect beside the trunk.
Towards midnight we were suddenly withdrawn, and after marching (or
rather stumbling) through the woods in the darkness for about a mile,
we halted near where we were on the morning of the 5th. There we laid
down our arms and unconditionally surrendered to an overwhelming
force--“nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.”
As it was quite dark when we arrived, we did not know that a
twelve-pound battery was in position behind us and only a few rods
distant, until about daylight, when it opened fire and brought us to
our feet in quick time. The occasion was quickly ascertained. The enemy
had assumed the offensive, and was advancing in force against our
works. They were handsomely repulsed, however, and with this exception
we were not disturbed that day. Several times the enemy shelled us, but
being protected by breastworks, we suffered no loss. The line behind
us was less fortunate, several shells exploding there, killing and
wounding a number of men. Thus we passed the third day of the battle of
the Wilderness.
At night the location of both armies was plainly indicated by blazing
camp-fires, as well as by the cheers of the _Yanks_ and the yells of
the _Rebs_--demonstrations that were intended by each to blind the
other in regard to their contemplated movements.
About nine o’clock we began our first flank movement towards Richmond.
Neither tongue nor pen would do justice to our experience of night
marches such as this. All night we marched and halted (but halted more
than we marched). We did not often stop to rest, but jogged along at
a snail-like pace. When our column moved we marched route step, arms
at will, and when it halted we came to order arms and leaned upon our
guns, keeping our places in the ranks, so as to be on the alert to
prevent a surprise, ready for any emergency.
About midnight we had just emerged from the woods and, halting in the
road, stood leaning on our guns. It has been said that soldiers can
sleep while marching. Whether this be so or not, it is certain that at
this time three quarters of the men were three quarters asleep, and the
other quarter more so, as we waited there for the column to start.
At this moment the troops ahead came suddenly to the front to meet, as
they supposed, an attack of the enemy in ambush, which proved to be
only a squad of stragglers who had stolen away into the bushes by the
roadside, and turned in for a good night’s rest, but had been awakened
at our approach. The sudden alarm created a panic which ran like an
electric flash through the entire column, sweeping the soldiers from
the road as quickly and effectually as though a battalion of cavalry
had charged upon us unawares. Lieutenant-Colonel Stephenson was on his
horse, but availed himself of the momentary halt to drop off into a
gentle slumber. Suddenly he was awakened to find his horse whirling
around and himself apparently alone.
Our double-quick movement in the dark from the road to cover
effectually awakened us, and we resumed our places in line, to laugh
over our experience and continue our tramp till daylight, when we
halted near Spottsylvania. One would suppose that we needed rest and
sleep by that time, but instead of that our Regiment was ordered to
support a battery, and we remained during the day (Sunday), spending
most of the time fortifying the position. There was considerable
fighting during the day, and at its close we moved to a new line of
battle, which we occupied during the 9th, 10th, and 11th of May.
This was within easy rifle range from the enemy, and being able
only partially to protect ourselves behind the breastworks, several
casualties occurred in the Regiment.
Sergeant Spalding was hit in the neck by a spent ball, which he
carefully saved. A man by his side was struck in the forehead by a
bullet which knocked off his hat, made an ugly scalp wound, and finally
left him stunned and bleeding; the first symptoms of his revival were a
hand outstretched and a “Good-bye, boys,” to those around him; but he
soon recovered enough to go to the rear for repairs.
On the morning of the 11th, General Grant sent to Washington that
memorable dispatch which was characteristic of our leader and meant
success, although at a terrible sacrifice of life, limb and treasure:
“We have ended the sixth day of heavy fighting, and expect to fight it
out on this line if it takes all summer.”
Captain Dana had been on detached service, acting as aide-de-camp to
General Dana, who was in command somewhere out West. Having obtained
a leave of absence of sixty days he returned to the Regiment, which
he joined here in the Wilderness, and resumed command of his company.
Early in the campaign he “captured” a wooden chair from some house as
we passed, which he persistently carried wherever he went. At every
halt the captain brought his chair to the ground and sat himself down
in it comfortably and complacently. In every fight his “private chair,”
as he called it, shared his dangers and rode upon his shoulder. In
one of our scrimmages a rifle shot struck the chair, and the captain
returned, among his casualties that day as wounded, “Private Chair in
the leg--badly.”
The 12th of May, 1864, is a date never to be forgotten by any of the
32d who were present in the attack on Laurel Hill that day. Brief as
was the action, the loss of the Regiment in proportion to the numbers
engaged, was greater than in any battle of the war.
That morning found us where we had been for two or three days, in front
of Laurel Hill, and distant hardly more than a quarter of a mile from
the works of the enemy. Between us and them were two swells of land,
which afforded us some protection from the enemy’s missiles. The summit
of one of these was occupied by our pickets, and the other by the
pickets of the rebels.
About nine o’clock A. M. we received orders to attack the position
of the enemy on Laurel Hill, and the brigade, commanded by Colonel
Prescott, advanced with a rush across the intervening space.
As the line of battle started, it overran the picket line--dashed down
the little depression in their front, over the next rise of ground,
but at the foot of Laurel Hill the men, whose momentum had carried
them thus far, faltered under the terrible fire, and laid down within
a short distance of the enemy’s line of works. Here the ground did not
cover the left of the Regiment, and while Colonel Stephenson was trying
to draw his left under shelter, he saw that the regiment on his right
had broken and was falling back in great disorder, and at once ordered
the men to save themselves.
The advance had been disastrous, but as usual the retreat was far
more so. In the 32d five bearers fell before the colors reached the
old position behind our works; of the 190 men who advanced in the
regimental line, 103 were killed or wounded, and from the time that
they left the works until the remnant had returned, less than thirty
minutes had elapsed. Among our wounded were Lieutenants Lauriat,
Hudson, and Farnsworth, Adjutant Kingsbury, and Captains Bancroft and
Hamilton; the latter of whom died two months later of his wounds.
From that day until the 23d, the Regiment was almost constantly in
position in front of the enemy at Spottsylvania Court House and other
localities, the service varied by repeated change of location all in
the direction of the left, the building of new breastworks, picket
duty, etc.
At the commencement of the war, the shovel was derided by a
considerable portion of the people of the North, and even by the
inexperienced and over-reckless men in the army, but the soldiers of
the Army of the Potomac learned from experience the value and advantage
of the utensil. After long and weary marches, the tired soldiers, if
placed in positions confronting the enemy, would almost invariably,
and often without orders, throw up earthworks before they wrapped
themselves in their blankets for sleep.
On the morning of the 23d we resumed our march in the direction of the
North Anna River, Crawford’s division of our corps, which was composed
almost entirely of Pennsylvania troops, taking the advance.
Our destination was Jericho Ford on the North Anna. When within a
mile or two of the ford, at a fork in the road, General Crawford by
mistake took the wrong way, and had advanced some distance in that
direction before his error was discovered. Without waiting for that
division to countermarch, General Warren, our corps commander, directed
General Griffin with his division to cross the ford. Our brigade
took the advance and forded the stream, which was about four feet
deep. Reforming at once upon a plain, the brigade advanced in line of
battle into a piece of woods, preceded by the 22d Massachusetts as
skirmishers, under the command of Major Burt, one of the most skilful
officers in command of a skirmish line in the army. We had barely
entered the woods when our skirmishers drew the fire from the enemy’s
picket line, and the bullets came whistling over our heads quite
freely.
The enemy soon fell back, and after gaining some ground we were
directed to fell trees and erect another line of works. The men worked
with great zeal, but had not finished when the enemy came upon us in
full force, General Hill’s corps essaying to drive us from our position
into the river. The attack fell upon our division, which received
the impetuous charge with a steady fire, and the enemy retired. Yet,
notwithstanding the merciless reception which was given them, the
Confederates pushed forward again about 5 P. M., and finally the
line of the 9th Massachusetts broke under the pressure, rendering
our position critical. The enemy poured through the interval, thus
endangering our whole line; but their headlong course was checked by
a well-directed fire from a battery hastily placed in position, and
served under the eye of General Warren.
Unable to sustain this raking fire of canister, the Confederates gave
way, and our line was reformed and strengthened. During this time
the 32d, which formed the left flank of our battle line, maintained
a continuous fire, the men loading and discharging their rifles with
great rapidity. It is impossible to tell how long this action was in
progress, as in the excitement of battle one can make but little note
of the passage of time, but after a sharp, quick struggle, which seemed
to last but a few minutes, and yet probably consumed more than an
hour’s time, the enemy withdrew, baffled in his attempt to force our
position.
If such a thing could well be, this was the most enjoyable fight in
which we participated during the pounding process we were obliged to
undergo from the Wilderness to Petersburg. It was the only engagement
in which we had the advantage of remaining under the cover of our works
and receiving the attack of the enemy. In every other action during
this campaign these conditions were reversed, and our comparatively
trifling loss demonstrated the disadvantage under which we had
habitually been placed.
This engagement proved that the enemy was on our front in force, that
he had again divined his adversary’s plan of flanking his army, and
that any further advance in this direction must be gained by hard
fighting. We remained in our position during the night, receiving no
further annoyance from the enemy. The next day we were moved to the
right, and on the 25th again moved a short distance in the direction
of Hanover Junction, where we threw up works and did picket duty until
nightfall of the 26th, when we received orders to retire, which we did
silently, leaving our pickets to face the enemy until the army had
recrossed the North Anna. Our division crossed at Quarles’ Ford, and
marched all night and the next day in the direction of the Pamunkey
River.
After leaving the North Anna our next encounter with the enemy was in
the vicinity of Mechanicsville. On the morning of the 30th our brigade
advanced in line of battle through the Tolopotomy Swamp, driving the
enemy’s skirmish line, which made but little resistance, until we
came to open fields around Shady Grove Church, where we found him in
force, protected by earthworks. This advance through the woods was very
toilsome; briars, fallen trees, and similar obstructions impeding our
progress, made it difficult to preserve the line of battle. Many of
the men were badly shod; some had no covering for the feet, yet were
compelled to march over briars and stumps which abounded.
The men had started on the campaign well provided with shoes--not new,
perhaps, but in good condition--and twenty-five days’ constant service,
in rain and sun, dust and mud, had left them in a pitiable condition.
Yet there was no help for it, no supplies upon which to draw, for it
was the 6th of June before we saw our baggage and supply trains. During
this period of thirty days, neither men nor officers could obtain any
change of clothing; the best that could be done was to catch a few
hours, while at rest, for washing, wait for the sun to do the drying,
and meantime go without.
During the afternoon there was considerable desultory firing, and our
loss for the day amounted to twenty-one killed or wounded, among them
Lieutenant George W. Bibby, killed.
About midnight we were relieved by a brigade of the 9th Corps, and went
into camp. June 1st and 2d we were in the reserve, but on the 3d were
aroused before daybreak to take part in the battle of Cold Harbor.
Our part consisted of a charge across an open field under a severe
fire of grape and canister. We drove the enemy out of one line of
earthworks and into another, where he made a stand. The real battle
of Cold Harbor, probably, did not occupy more than twenty minutes. It
was the same along the whole line as with us--a rapid charge under a
galling fire from the enemy, who, protected by earthworks of great
strength, easily repelled our attacks. Our brigade was, perhaps, as
successful as any, for we did drive the enemy from his most advanced
position, but he retired to one of greater strength. This attack was
made before five o’clock in the morning. During the remainder of the
day we laid quiet, within the redoubt we had captured, the enemy
occupying his interior line not more than two hundred yards away. We
kept up a constant fire, watching for every man who had the courage to
show himself, thus hindering as far as was possible the working of the
Confederate guns. The defences on our front were well constructed, and
evidently laid out under the supervision of an experienced engineer.
Indeed we learned from a prisoner that they were begun two weeks before
we reached the place, by order of General Lee, who, it appears, foresaw
that General Grant would necessarily be brought to this point if he
continued “to fight it out on that line.”
Between the lines of works occupied by our brigade and the enemy, the
ground was covered with pine-trees felled and slashed across each
other, making the passage through exceedingly difficult for troops,
even had they been unopposed. But, in addition, the enemy had posted a
battery in such a position that he could sweep the field with the fire
of his guns, from which there was no shelter.
In view of all this we were not much elated when we received an
order that at six o’clock P. M. we were to attack the enemy in our
front, without regard to the movements of the troops on either flank.
Lieutenant-Colonel Stephenson, believing that, under the circumstances,
the movement could not be successful, sent to General Griffin, the
division commander, a description and sketch of the position of the
enemy and the ground before us, whereupon the order was so changed
that we were not to advance until the 9th Corps, which joined our
right, should move. It can be imagined how anxiously we watched the
movements of the 9th, but the hour came, and the artillery signal for
the charge was unnoticed by the troops on our right, who did not budge,
and we were glad indeed when darkness came on and we knew that we had,
at least for the time, escaped the terrible ordeal we had expected.
We know now that the order to charge was given to the commanders of
every corps, but was disregarded by every one; feeling that, after the
experiences of the morning, another charge would result in fearful
loss of life, with no effect upon the enemy’s position. Our loss
during the day was ten killed and twenty-one wounded. The loss to the
Union army was over thirteen thousand killed and wounded; that of the
Confederates, less than one thousand.
For a few days after the battle of Cold Harbor there seemed to be an
intention on the part of General Grant to commence siege operations.
We were then about twelve miles from Richmond, and on the same
ground where, nearly two years before, was fought the action of
Gaines’ Mill--the first of McClellan’s seven days’ battle in 1862. The
prospect of another campaign in the swamps of the Chickahominy was not
attractive, and no regrets were expressed when on the 12th of June,
General Grant abandoned his attempt to attack Richmond directly, and
headed his columns for the James River.