railway and set to work to destroy it. First the rails were removed;
then the sleepers were taken up, piled and fired; when the rails,
laid across the burning ties, were heated so as to be pliable, they
were doubled and twisted in such manner that they could not be relaid
unless rerolled. Then the same operation was repeated on another length
of track until several miles in all were ruined. It was a long day’s
work, and we bivouacked the second night along the road-bed, making our
coffee at the smouldering fires.
On the 10th we started on the return march, and although it was raining
and very muddy, we made twenty miles that day, reaching a bivouac near
Sussex Court House. The next day we passed over the Nottoway, and
on the 12th reached the Jerusalem road, and went into camp within a
half-mile of the spot we had left to make the excursion which has been
described. Here again we built dug-outs and huts, in which we were
allowed to remain until the early spring.
On the return march the men did considerable foraging on their own
account. A goose, a chicken, a turkey or duck, seemed to be a part of
the men’s equipment. One squad captured a little pony, harnessed him to
a sulky, and loaded the sulky with their knapsacks and live stock. One
man appeared under a stove-pipe hat, but it didn’t wear well. At night,
sweet potatoes, sorghum molasses, and apple-jack, were abundant in the
camp.
Our enlisted men were not apt to be damaged by the over-supply of
spirituous liquors. The sale of them was strictly forbidden, and when
a sutler was detected as implicated in the trade, his entire stock of
all kinds of merchandise was confiscated, and in some cases distributed
among the near-by soldiers.
Whiskey was used as a medicine, but its value as such is problematical.
As a restorative for men exhausted by labor or by battle, it has, no
doubt, a good effect, but it should not be given until the work is done
or the battle fought. It would have been a great advantage to the army
if the commissioned officers had not been able to obtain supplies, for
Dutch courage is a poor substitute for the real thing, and a clear head
is even more important to him who commands than to him who has only to
obey.
On the Weldon Railroad expedition, some of the men, by a mysterious
instinct, discovered several barrels of apple-jack which had been
concealed under a stack of hay, and many of the canteens were filled
with spirit by the soldiers as they passed. Several of these, overcome
by their potations, fell out of the line of our outward march, and
probably to sleep off the fumes, stretched themselves out upon the
broad veranda of a planter’s house. On the return march they were found
there with their throats cut--dead--and the murder was avenged by the
burning of the house. No doubt many more suffered for their excess by
imprisonment in Southern barracoons.
The New Year of 1865 found the Regiment in log huts near the Jerusalem
plank-road, a mile in the rear of our works before Petersburg, on
swampy ground. The two wings of the battalion alternated in fatigue
duty, building, extending, or strengthening works, the labor continuing
day and night.
Suddenly on the afternoon of February 4, 1865, orders came to move
the next morning (Sunday), at daylight. The general impression was
that there was to be another raid on the railroad connections of the
enemy, and the camp huts were left standing. At daylight on the 5th,
the column started and sunset found us near to Nottoway Court House.
We were ordered out on picket, but were recalled about midnight and
marched until dawn, when we were at Hatcher’s run--the point where that
stream is crossed by the Vaughn road.
The day before, the 2d Corps had been engaged with the enemy here,
and the 32d was posted in some rifle pits on the further side of the
Run, out of which the rebel forces had been driven. Our Regiment was
the extreme right of the 5th Corps, and on its right connected with
the left of the 2d Corps across the stream. About 2 o’clock P. M.,
Crawford’s division advanced from the left, moved across our front
and encountered the enemy; two hours later our brigade was put in by
General Warren to fill a gap in Crawford’s line, and the contest was
sharp until about dusk, when the onset of a fresh body of the enemy
drove back Crawford’s command in some confusion. The locality of the
action was in a thick wood of pines where we could not see to any great
distance, and as our part of the line held on, we found ourselves
with the 155th Pennsylvania quite alone and flanked on both sides. It
required considerable coolness and some sharp fighting to enable us
to get back to the original line of battle, and our losses in doing
so were heavy--74 in killed, wounded, and missing; included in which
number was Major Shepard, who was made prisoner while commanding the
brigade line of skirmishers, and Captain Bowdlear severely wounded. The
action we named that of Dabney’s Mills.
Until the 11th we remained in the same position. The weather was very
cold and stormy, and the enemy’s artillery at times very annoying, but
no infantry attack was made. On the 11th the corps changed its line
slightly, and we soon had a camp more comfortable than that we left on
the Jerusalem road. Here we remained digging and picketing until we
started out on the final campaign.
In the action of the 6th, Major Shepard commanded the skirmish line
in front of our brigade. When Crawford advanced across our front, the
pickets became useless and the Major proceeded to call them in and to
join the brigade. While marching to the left, as he supposed in the
rear of the Union line of battle, he happened into the gap which had
just been made in Crawford’s command by a Confederate charge, and he
suddenly found himself in the rear of the enemy; at the same moment he
was struck in the head by a musket ball, which had just force enough
to stretch him senseless on the ground. The Major recovered to find
himself an object of interest to a half-dozen rebel stragglers, one
of whom exchanged hats with him, another borrowed his nice overcoat,
while others contented themselves with his various equipments. Perhaps
Shepard did not recover full consciousness until the moment when one of
the plunderers ordered him to take off and yield up his boots. But this
was the feather too much. Those boots were new, elegant, and costly,
and the Major made a stand in and for them, replying to all threats
by the declaration that they couldn’t have the boots, and that he
preferred death to the loss of them.
How the affair might have ended we cannot say, had not an officer
appeared in sight, to whom the Major formally surrendered himself; but
thereupon the stragglers left him with his boots and his life to boot,
and both have given him much contentment since that day.
XXI.
_THE LAST CAMPAIGN._
The month of March is really a spring month in the latitude of southern
Virginia, and out of the attending frosts and thaws, storms, mists, and
bright days which make up the winter there, we had come to the time
when the buds were breaking out into greenness, and when even within
sound of the great guns, the venturesome birds would sing the lays of
spring.
The whole army was inspired with the feeling that the last campaign was
about to open, and that the triumph of the Union cause must be at hand.
For six weeks we had been established in our huts, when on the 29th day
of March, early in the morning, we bade good-bye to our village camp,
and with the 5th Corps moved out to the rear and left. The weather
was warm and as the march proceeded, personal property in the way of
clothing, which had been valuable in the winter season, and convenient
in the camp, began to increase in weight and to decrease rapidly in
value. As the men realized that we were off this time in earnest, they
began to shed their surplus clothing. The roads were difficult and
the march toilsome. At every halt loads were lightened, and spare
blankets, overcoats, shelters, etc., strewed the line of march, until
by nightfall all were in light marching trim.
In the absence of Colonel Edmunds, disabled by sickness, and Major
Shepard, prisoner of war, the Regiment to the end of the campaign
was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Cunningham, assisted by Captain
Bancroft as acting major.
The direction of our march finally led us toward the Boydtown
plank-road, near which in the afternoon the 1st and 2d brigades of our
division became hotly engaged, and ours (the 3d,) was put in position
in a low, level, and swampy field. During the night it set in to rain
with that ease and abundance which seems to be characteristic of the
climate, and we passed a thoroughly uncomfortable night, during which
men thought regretfully of the blankets and rubber sheets which they
had thrown away during the previous day.
Through Thursday the 30th the rain continued, but about noon the 32d
was deployed in front as skirmishers, with orders to feel for the
enemy--feeling for him in the sloppy weather, we found him behind some
log breastworks, from which we rooted him out and pushed him a short
distance backward. But the enemy in his turn got to be pressing, and
our ammunition becoming scarce, we were in our turn pushed back to our
starting point. The Confederates even charged the line of our corps,
but were repulsed with considerable loss.
Late in the afternoon, with replenished cartridge boxes, we reoccupied
the log breastworks, and being ordered to feel forward again, did so.
This time it was a fort and an open field with too much artillery for
comfort, but we got up close, burrowed, and held on. It seems that we
had reached around to the extreme right of Lee’s line of works for
the defence of Petersburg, and hereafter we were to be free of these
inconvenient obstructions to our way.
Friday, March 31st, at 5 A. M., we were relieved by the 2d Corps, and
moved off again to the left, where General Warren posted the divisions
of his corps, in _echelon_ a little west of the Boydtown road. The
ground, owing to the long rain, was in a condition very unfavorable to
any movement, and our formation was hardly completed when the 2d and 3d
divisions, (Crawford’s and Ayer’s,) were attacked and driven back with
some loss, but our division (the 1st,) held its position, and the 2d
and 3d coming into line with us, the whole corps, preceded by a strong
skirmish line, again advanced and pressed the rebels hard.
Captain Lauriat commanding four companies of the 32d was in the line of
skirmishers, and seized the opportunity, as the lines closed, to draw
off on the flank, and through a bit of wood got into the rear of the
enemy’s skirmishers and stampeded them. So rapid was our advance that
at one spot we captured the enemy’s dinner of bacon, as also a number
of guns in stacks.
Our corps was now the extreme left of the Union army. Sheridan, with
the cavalry, was farther to the left, but entirely detached; he had
been attacked and pretty roughly handled, and considerable alarm
was felt for his safety. During the afternoon our brigade, under
Colonel Pearson, of the 155th Pennsylvania, was sent out to the left
to reconnoitre and, if possible, to reinforce Sheridan. Entirely
surrounded by skirmishers the brigade moved off to the left, but,
although constantly gaining ground, their movement was so retarded
by the brisk resistance of the enemy’s skirmishers, that it was dusk
before he was driven over Gravelly Run, and the next morning we learned
that Sheridan was all right.
April 1st, 1865.--Before eight o’clock this morning the 5th Corps was
again in connection with the cavalry Corps, and both were placed under
the orders of General Sheridan. In fact, for the ensuing eight days, we
became a sort of foot cavalry--if there be any such arm known to the
service.
It was afternoon before there seemed to be any real resistance to our
onward progress, but then there was the sound of heavy firing in front,
and we soon came upon what was to be the field of the battle of Five
Forks. The cavalry, dismounted, were sharply prodding the enemy with
artillery and carbines, and the 5th Corps was brought up and formed on
their right, and pushed rapidly forward.
We found no enemy in our front, but soon discovered that we had passed
beyond the line of his formation; whereupon, by a wheel to the left
and a rapid dash, we came in upon his flank and rear, surprising,
overwhelming, and entirely routing his forces, more than one-half of
whom were made prisoners. The fighting was sharp but short, and our
success complete.
It is impossible to overrate the exhilaration of the men in and after
this action. With small loss to themselves, they had taken four or
five thousand prisoners, and the ground was strewn with the arms and
equipments which the enemy had thrown away in his hasty attempt at
flight. The feeling was general that now, at last, the superior numbers
and power of the North were beginning to tell, the days of digging and
burrowing were over, and the day of triumph near at hand.
That night, by order of General Sheridan, General Warren was relieved,
and General Griffin (our “Old Griff“) was placed in command of the
5th Corps. It is not easy to see what default in duty could have been
ascribed to Warren, and it is probable that the real explanation of the
change was merely Sheridan’s preference or partiality for Griffin, who
was patterned more after Sheridan’s taste.
That night, too, Colonel Cunningham was placed in command of a brigade
of skirmishers, consisting of one regiment from each brigade in the 1st
Division, with orders to deploy them at eight o’clock the next morning,
and advance directly west. The 32d was, of course, one of these
regiments, and its command devolved upon Captain Bancroft.
April 2d, Sunday.--Promptly at eight o’clock, while the dull muttering
of the great guns told us of the last struggle far away in front of
Petersburg, Cunningham deployed his brigade of skirmishers under
the eye of General Sheridan, and we moved on, up hill and down dale,
for the most part through a region covered with woods and but little
inhabited.
Moving west, as ordered, we came at 11 A. M. to the South Side
Railroad, where we captured a train filled with wounded and sick
Confederates, and also gobbled up a large number of sound rebels and
quantities of army stores, and then pressed on, still westward, for two
miles farther.
From women and from our prisoners, information was obtained to the
effect that the remains of two divisions of the enemy had passed in
this direction on their retreat from Five Forks, and also that General
Lee, with the Army of Virginia, was then moving out of Petersburg
and heading towards the south; and, indeed, we could plainly see the
clouds of dust which marked their line of march. This information was
communicated to General Sheridan, but at 4 P. M. we were drawn back
to the railroad and thence marched eight miles in the direction of
Petersburg, and there bivouacked for the night.
The next five days were occupied in a most exciting chase. Sheridan’s
command, consisting of the 5th Corps and the cavalry, entirely detached
from the army, was hastening to bar Lee’s line of retreat. On the 3d
and 4th we marched twenty miles each day; abandoned wagons, forges,
guns, and caissons were seen quite frequently. By our seizing the
railway at Jettersville on the 4th, Lee lost the only railroad line by
which his escape could be facilitated. On the 8th we marched all the
day and half of the night to bivouac near Pamplin’s Station, on the
South Side Railroad.
Sunday morning, April 9th, 1865, Lee made a last and desperate attempt
to escape by cutting his way through the lines of the cavalry. We
broke camp after only two hours rest, and after three hours of
forced marching in the direction of brisk artillery firing, came up
to the right and rear of the cavalry, who had been pressed back for
some distance by Lee’s attack. At the sight of the bayonets of our
approaching corps the Confederates ceased their attempt, and withdrew
to their lines of the morning.
It was the good fortune of the 32d Regiment to be that day at the head
of the column. The day was fine but not uncomfortably warm; the men in
the best of spirits, fully imbued with the feeling that the end was
near. In this our last fight the conditions were unusually favorable
for infantry movements, the country rolling but open, and covered with
grassy turf.
A change of direction to the right brought us out of the road and into
an open field of pasture-land which rose before us on a gentle slope
for nearly half a mile. Entering this field, and without a halt, the
Regiment formed column of companies, then formed divisions, and then
deployed on the rear division. No battalion movement was ever executed
more precisely or with lines better dressed. Waiting a moment for the
other regiments of the brigade to complete their formation, we saw
before us the swell of land on which we stood, and beyond, on higher
ground, the enemy’s artillery, with infantry supports, in line of
battle. It was a glorious sight--the beauty of the spring morning--the
gentle movement of the air--the rich garniture of green which
everywhere clad the view--all were exhilarating, while the universal
conviction that the enemy, now in full sight, was also within our
power, inspired the men with such enthusiasm as made every man to feel
himself invincible.
Soon came the order, “Forward.” The colors never came more promptly to
the front, and the right and left general guides fairly sprang to their
positions. The enemy being in full sight no skirmishers preceded us.
The advance was made under a sharp artillery fire, the men stepping out
with a full thirty-six inch stride. The enemy’s front line was slowly
falling back. At the summit of the rising ground, where we received
a few stray rifle shots, we could see that the ground fell off for
perhaps six hundred yards, to where a little stream--one of the head
waters of the Appomattox--ran winding along. Here, just as we expected
to receive the volleys of the enemy, his firing suddenly ceased, and a
halt was ordered.
Colonel Cunningham, through his field-glass, seeing what seemed to be
a flag of truce in our front, took the adjutant with him, and, putting
spurs to their horses, they dashed forward, and soon met a mounted
officer attended by an orderly, bearing a small white flag upon a
staff. This officer announced himself as one of General Lee’s staff,
and said that he was the bearer of a message to General Grant with a
view to surrender. The flag was duly reported, and very soon an officer
representing General Grant appeared, and the colonel and adjutant
retired.
Soon the expected surrender of Lee was known through all our lines, and
the hearts of all were joyous and gay--perfectly so, except for a shade
of regret that we could not have finished a fight which promised so
well for us.
The two commanding generals met about eleven o’clock in a small house
a little way off to our right and front. Our corps was in line by
divisions closed in mass, the orders being to keep the men well in
hand; but the general talk was that the war was over, and that we
should soon turn the heads of our columns north.
At 2.30 P. M. we knew that the surrender was a fact, and that it would
be officially promulgated at 4 P. M.
Meantime was a season of general and heartfelt mutual congratulations,
during which it was noticed that General Gregory’s brigade was forming
square, off on the near hillside, and several officers of our brigade
mounted and rode over to see what was going on.
Brigadier-General Gregory had a gift for prayer and speech, and also
a resonant voice. From the centre of his square he made a rousing
good speech of congratulation, and then, calling to prayer, commenced
a hearty thanksgiving to God for the success which had attended our
arms, and for the reasonable hope of an early return to peaceful homes.
Just then, miles away to our left, a detachment of General Fitz Hugh
Lee’s cavalry, having sighted a Union supply train--being very hungry
and not knowing of the truce, pitched into the escort with artillery
and carbines, and the boom, boom, boom of his guns smote upon the
ear of Gregory. The general ceased abruptly, listened, and again
boom, boom, boom came the sound well known to his practiced ear, and
then again his voice rang out: “Never mind the rest, men--reduce
square--form brigade line;” and in three minutes all were ready for
action.
The official order came at four o’clock, and after a pretty lively
evening we were glad to be at rest in bivouac.
April 10th.--A very quiet, restful day; the officers and men of the
two armies making and returning visits. The officers of our Regiment,
with others of the division, attended General Chamberlain in calls of
courtesy upon General Lee and other officers of the surrendered forces.
The Confederates were entirely out of rations and, although we were
also short by reason of our rapid advance and the woful condition of
the roads, our men readily assented to divide the contents of their
haversacks with the soldiers who had so long been their enemy, and
throughout the day the officers and men of the two armies were to be
seen thoroughly commingled. Confederate States currency was to be had
by the bushel.
April 11th was the day appointed for the formal surrender of the arms.
General Chamberlain, commanding our division, was detailed in charge of
the ceremony, and our brigade was ordered to receive the arms of the
rebel infantry.
At 9 A. M. the brigade was formed in line on a road leading from our
camp to that of the Confederates, its right in the direction of the
latter. The 32d Massachusetts was the extreme right of the brigade. The
Confederate troops came up by brigades at route step, arms-at-will.
In some regiments the colors were rolled tightly to the staff, but
in others the bearers flourished them defiantly as they marched. As
they approached our line, our men stood at shouldered arms, the lines
were carefully dressed, and eyes front; seeing which, and appreciating
the compliment implied, some of the enemy’s brigadiers closed up
their ranks, and so moved along our front with their arms at the
shoulder. Their files marched past until their right reached to our
left, when they halted, fronted facing us, stacked their arms, hung
their accoutrements upon the rifles, and then the colorbearer of each
regiment laid his colors across the stacks, and the brigade, breaking
to its rear, gave room for the next to come up in its place, and each
successive brigade observed the same order of proceeding, upon the same
ground.
As the first brigade moved away, a detail of our men took the stacks
as they stood, and moved them up nearer to our line, and the arms from
the stacks of each succeeding brigade were taken by the same detail
and piled around the first stacks; so that when the ceremony was ended
there was but one line of stacks, with the equipments and colors
hanging or lying thereupon.
Throughout the whole our men behaved nobly--not only was there no
cheering or exultation, but there was, on the contrary, a feeling of
deep soldierly sympathy for their gallant enemy, which evinced itself
in respectful silence, and this conduct was appreciated and warmly
commended by many of the rebel officers.
It was 4 P. M. before the surrender was completed, and the rest of the
day and evening was given up to jovial congratulations among ourselves.
After the surrender we were employed for some days in guarding the
railroads and public property; and then started for Washington; which
we reached by easy marches, and on the 12th of May pitched our last
camp on Arlington Heights. With the Army of the Potomac we passed in
review before the President, on the 22d of May, and on the 29th of
June started for home. At Philadelphia and again at Providence we were
refreshed by the hospitality of the citizens, and about noon of July
1st we arrived in Boston, marching directly to the Common, where the
men were furloughed until the 6th.
On the 6th of July the command again assembled on Boston Common, and
proceeded to Gallops Island, where, on the 11th July, 1865, it was paid
off and mustered out of service, and the 32d Massachusetts Infantry was
no more.