Showing posts with label 29th PA INF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 29th PA INF. Show all posts

Friday, October 7, 2016

Journal of Major Wilder Dwight: May 30, 1862

Winchester, Virginia, Friday, May 30, 1862,
Braddock Street, at Mr. Bernhardt's.

The first news of an attack on Banks's column reached the camp of the Second Massachusetts Regiment at Strasburg, Virginia, on Friday evening after parade (May 23). The Third Wisconsin Regiment was despatched by Colonel Gordon, commanding brigade, toward Front Royal, to protect the bridges. At eleven o'clock that night we were ordered to pack wagons. After despatching our train we lay down and spent the night in bivouac. No marching orders came. It was understood by us that many of the other trains had not yet gone toward Winchester. At or near ten o'clock, A.M., Saturday, the order came for us to march. As we passed head-quarters on the way to Winchester, it was reported that the Rebel forces were pushing forward direct from Front Royal to Winchester, and we were hurried on, as it was said, to meet them or anticipate them. When we drew near the bridge over Cedar Creek, the battery was ordered forward in haste, and it was said that part of our train at Newtown had been attacked by cavalry. We pushed forward, found the trains halted, and some evidences of panic and disorder. We halted half an hour before reaching Middletown. Then pushed on again. The day, which had been rainy and clouded, grew more clear and hot. The march was through the trains, and a rapid push toward Winchester. Donnelly's brigade was before ours. Between Middletown and Newtown it became evident that our rear was being pressed. The rear-guard had been composed of cavalry and artillery. A large drove of loose horses overtook us near Newtown; one of cattle soon came also; the wagons, also, were crowding the way. Still we pushed on. At about two miles beyond Newtown General Banks appeared, and announced to Colonel Gordon that our advance was in Winchester, and all quiet there. The evidences of panic and pursuit in the rear had been rapidly multiplying, and it had been reported that our train was cut at Middletown by a force coming by the Front Royal road. The Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment had been ordered to return to the rear with a section of Best's battery at Newtown. As soon as General Banks announced the entry of our force into Winchester, he ordered the Second Massachusetts Regiment to the rear to protect the train. The regiment, jaded by their march and fatigue, sprang to the duty. At Bartonsville, a little more than a mile this side of Newtown, we left our knapsacks, and pushed on.

As we came near Newtown, evidences of panic filled the road, — abandoned wagons, flying teamsters, &c. The regiment formed near the edge of the town. Two companies were deployed as skirmishers on each side of the road. Two companies were ordered to support Best's section, and the rest of the regiment moved into the town by the road by the flank. They had just entered the town, when the enemy's artillery from the other end of the town threw a few shells at them with skill. The shell burst directly over the battalion. Colonel Andrews ordered them within the yards on the right of the road. The skirmishers and reserve moved on, and the rest of the regiment followed, keeping within shelter of buildings. Before entering the town we had seen cavalry on our right and left. The line of skirmishers was halted in a hollow just beyond the town, and the reserves and battalion kept within the town. The artillery of both sides kept up a rapid fire. It was, perhaps, five, P. M., when we turned back. We held the position till sunset. At the edge of the town, on a door-step, was a half-eaten pile of corn. The man of the house said Ashby's horse was eating there when we came into town. I fed my horse with what was left. This was the only forage, I believe, taken from the enemy. Before we withdrew from Newtown we set fire to the abandoned wagons. It grew dark rapidly as we withdrew. I had a detail of two companies, A and C, as a rear-guard. One platoon of each company was deployed in the fields, on each side of the road. The reserves were united within the road. The enemy soon followed our retreat. As they came in sight of the burning wagons their yells and shouts were demoniacal. Expecting an attack by their cavalry upon the rear-guard, I prepared for it. When we came near Bartonsville a halt was ordered, to pick up the knapsacks. We could hear the yells of the men coming on. Soon the sound of approaching horses was heard. The growing darkness, confused by the glare of the burning wagons, compelled us to trust our ears. I drew the line of skirmishers into groups near the road, formed the reserve into a square, and directed the three bodies, so formed, to pour their fire upon the approaching cavalry at the command from me. The cavalry came on. The fire was ordered and delivered. The cavalry went back.

Their advance seemed checked. I rode back up the hill over which the cavalry had come, but could hear no sound. It then became necessary to draw in and relieve the rear-guard, to enable it to take its knapsacks. At the foot of the hill on which we had been posted was a little run which the road crossed over a small bridge. The rear-guard was drawn in across that run, together with Company B, which had come out to their support.

Company I had been ordered to report to me as a rearguard; Colonel Andrews stating that he thought the pursuit checked. Company I came down near the run to wait there till the knapsacks should be taken and till the column should move. Hardly had they got there when I could hear voices beyond the run. It had been reported to me that orders were being given to infantry. I heard a voice saying, “There they are! there they are! in the road!” As a few shells had been thrown at us when we were in position beyond the run, I thought the enemy might intend some such compliment, and I directed the company which was in column by platoon to break back against the roadsides. The doubt was soon scattered. A galling and severe infantry fire opened on us. Company I replied at once, and with admirable coolness and effect. In spite of their inferior numbers, and of the wounded falling about, they kept their position and maintained their fire. I sent back to Colonel Andrews for support, and parts of Companies C and B in the clover-field on the right of the road soon opened a fire that relieved us speedily.

Company I, however, had lost eight or ten killed or wounded in this sudden and vigorous attack.

We withdrew slowly, the column having now got in motion again. The enemy pressed us only a little way; then all was quiet. When we came to a brick house our wounded were carried into it, and a halt was ordered till ambulances, which were sent for, could be brought back for them.

I posted a line of sentries across the road and in the fields, and posted the reserve of Company I within that line, and the regiment was taking some rest, while Dr. Leland1 was busy dressing the wounded in the house. After about half an hour the sentries reported sounds as of an advancing column. Upon going back, I found that I could hear it, and so reported to Colonel Andrews. Colonel Andrews expressed an unwillingness to leave the wounded unless we were compelled to do so, and ordered me to return again. I did so; and leaving word with my sentinels to fire at once upon hearing or seeing anything suspicious, I was on my way to report to Colonel Andrews that the enemy were certainly approaching, when I was stopped by a fire from the direction of the sentinels. Immediately a sharp and extended line of fire opened from the enemy's skirmishers close upon us. The column moved at once, as soon as it could be got in order.

Our sentinels and reserve from Company I stood their ground under a second severe fire. Part of Companies B and C were rapidly deployed, and we moved on in retreat. Part of Company D, under Lieutenant Abbott, was unluckily left behind on our right, where they had been deployed as flankers. For a moment they were between two fires, but the fact was discovered in season to avoid disaster. We were compelled, however, to leave Dr. Leland and the wounded prisoners in the hands of the enemy. The enemy pursued us closely beyond Kernstown. Soon after passing that village, I drew in the skirmishers, and followed the column rapidly. We passed our cavalry picket at the tollgate. Between twelve and one o'clock the whole regiment lay down to a dreary bivouac just outside of Winchester on the left of the road.

I met Colonel Gordon on the road, and went with him into town. He sent out his Adjutant, Lieutenant Horton, to attend to the posting of pickets. We went to see General Banks. I had only a few words with him. I told him the nature of the pursuit, and intimated the opinion which I had formed, that an attack would be made at daylight. I got no orders nor any intimation of any plan or purpose for the next day. I went back and lay down by a small fire for about an hour.

Soon after three o'clock, A. M., Colonel Andrews requested me to go into town, to hurry out some ammunition for our regiment. I saw Colonel Gordon, but could get no ammunition. When I came out of Colonel Gordon's room I met a messenger from Colonel Andrews, saying that an attack seemed imminent, and there was no general officer on the field. As I went back to the regiment I met Generals Williams and Hatch, and gave them the message. I then went back to the regiment. I found Colonel Andrews and Colonel Ruger together. I said to the former: “Ought we not to take possession of that ridge?” pointing to the one on the right of the road. Colonel Andrews said, “I have already selected it, but where is Colonel Gordon?” I replied he was coming. The regiment was formed, and Colonel Gordon, on his arrival, sanctioning the position, the regiment moved by the flank, across the road, and up the hillside.

We had just crossed the road when a Rebel regiment, in line (Fifth Virginia), appeared on the ridge, showing that they had anticipated us.

As we moved up the hill Colonel Andrews told me to ride forward, to examine the position. I did so. A fire from some sharpshooters saluted me, and I could see a battery and some regiments opposite the position that we were advancing to occupy. Meantime, Cothren's battery opened on the Fifth Virginia Regiment, and scattered them out of view. The Second Massachusetts moved on to its position, and took the line of a broken stone-wall, the right of the regiment resting on the crest of the hill. The rest of the regiments of the brigade formed on our left down to the pike. The battery was posted on a rise of ground behind our regiment. The Second Massachusetts was ordered to lie down. Part of Company D was deployed on the right as skirmishers. There was a warm fire of artillery and musketry on our position. The three right companies kept up a brisk fire on the battery and infantry opposite; rising and lying down again. Colonel Andrews and I dismounted. We could see one of the enemy's guns deserted. The enemy's pieces, I have since found out, belonged to the Rockbridge artillery. Our fire drove them from their guns, and I have also heard that their loss at this point was considerable. Soon, however, their fire ceased, for the most part, to annoy us; though their battery and ours kept up a rapid interchange over our heads, with more or less effect on both sides.

I happened to notice one or two mounted officers of the enemy pointing and gesticulating in the direction of our right flank, and suggested to Colonel Andrews whether they did not mean to send round a force to flank us. He seemed to think it probable. There was a stone-wall on our right and in front of our line about thirty yards or forty. Colonel Andrews ordered Companies D and I to deploy forward to that wall as skirmishers to protect that flank, and also to observe and harass any movement of the enemy like the one anticipated. At about this time a sharp fire of grape and spherical case, as I suppose, began upon the wall and the field in rear of us. I have since found out that the guns of the Rockbridge artillery were ordered to divide their fire between this wall and the battery to prevent our pushing a regiment up to the wall.

I went forward to the wall, dropping occasionally, as I saw the flash of the enemy's guns, to avoid their somewhat importunate projectiles. It appeared that the expected movement had commenced. There was one piece of low ground where the enemy's flank was exposed in their movement. They then passed behind a wooded knoll which covered them. Colonel Andrews ordered me to go to Colonel Gordon to report the movement. I did so, finding him in a hollow in rear of the centre of the brigade. He directed me to return, and ascertain in what force the enemy were moving. I went out to the wall, and ascertained that two or more regiments had already passed. Our skirmishers were exposed to a sharp fire at the wall. I reported the fact of the number of the enemy moving on our right to Colonel Gordon. He told me to tell Colonel Andrews to throw back the right of the regiment, and he would send up a force to support him. He also directed me to see that some of the artillery moved forward and to the right to play upon the enemy at this point; I was busy attending to these matters.

One of Cothren's pieces was brought forward, our skirmishers were withdrawn from the wall, the Twenty-seventh Indiana and Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania moved up to our right. I had dismounted to go down toward the wall, and was directing the officer in charge of the piece where his fire could be directed with most effect, when I heard a cry. I turned and saw that the Twenty-seventh Indiana, which had just opened its fire, had broken and was running. I saw that the enemy were pouring up the hillside and round on our right. I saw, also, that the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania had broken and was following the Twenty-seventh Indiana. The enemy were coming on at a run, with yells, but not in any regular order. The officer commanding the piece said to me, “What shall I do? I have got no support for my gun.” “Blaze away at ’em,” said I. “I shall lose my gun,” said he. “Well,” said I, “you must do as you choose.” I turned and found that our regiment was withdrawing. I could not see my horse anywhere, and so I followed on foot. As we passed off the hill the enemy rose on its crest. Their cracking and whistling fire followed us closely. I recollected an unmailed letter in my pocket, and preferring to have it unread, rather than read by hostile eyes, I tore it up as we went down the hill. A few of our men would turn and fire up the hill, reloading as they went on. I delayed a little to applaud their spunk.

But the flight before me and the flight behind me are not reminiscences on which I like to dwell.

We passed down into the edge of the town. As I came along, a young soldier of Company C was wounded in the leg. I gave him my arm, but, finding that he was too much injured to go on, advised him to get into a house, and went on. The regiment was forming in line when I reached it. Before I had time to go to the left, where Colonel Andrews was, the regiment moved off again, and I followed. It now became a run. A fire began to assail us from the cross streets as well as from the rear. I turned in at the Union Hotel Hospital to get on to the next street, but found the same fire there. Just as I was near the edge of the town one of our soldiers called out to me, “Major, I'm shot.” I turned to him, and took him along a few steps, and then took him into a house. I told the people they must take care of him, and laid him down on a bed, and opened his shirt. I then turned to go out, but the butternut soldiery were all around the house, and I quietly sat down. “Under which king,” &c. A soldier soon came in and took me prisoner. I made friendly acquaintance with him. He went with me for a surgeon for my wounded soldier, and also to pick up the overcoat which I had thrown off in the heat. I soon went down with my captor to the Taylor House, where I found Colonel Bradley Johnson, First Maryland Regiment, who took charge of me.

As I came back through the streets secession flags were flying from many of the houses; the town was full of soldiers and rejoicing. I found many of our soldiers prisoners in the court-house yard. I was busy about the wounded, and was allowed to go out to get a dinner.

In the afternoon I went upon the field with some of the prisoners of our regiment and buried our dead: two of our own regiment and two from some other. They were buried under the cedar at the right of our line on the hill, and I read a portion of Scripture over their open grave.2

In the evening I went up to the Academy Hospital, where I found Major Wheat of Wheat's battalion, who took care of me, and with whom I passed the night, and who treated me with the utmost kindness and courtesy.

The next morning (Monday, May 26) Major Wheat took me, together with Colonel Murphy, to breakfast at the Taylor House. There I saw Pendleton, of General Jackson's staff, and through him sent in a request to General Jackson. First, to see him; this was refused. Second, to send information, by a flag, to our friends of our number of prisoners, wounded, and dead; this was refused, on the ground that General Banks, after the battle of Kernstown, took no such step; and, as the aid said, “If it had not been for our private sources of information we could have known nothing of our wounded and prisoners.” Third, for a parole for our soldiers who were suffering from want of food; this was also refused on similar ground to the former. Fourth, then for a parole for myself, to enable me to board at some private house in Winchester; this was granted.

I went to the house of Mr. George Barnhardt, on Braddock Street, where I had stopped when we were in Winchester before.

I was at the Union Hotel Hospital on Tuesday morning, May 27, where our wounded were being collected, when I was delighted to see Colonel Kenly, of the First Maryland, from Front Royal, wounded with a sabre-cut on the head, but not dead, as reported. The Colonel came with me to Mr. Barnhardt's house, and has been with me ever since.

On Wednesday, May 28, I attended the funeral of Sergeant Williams, Company F, who died on Tuesday morning soon after I left him. General Jackson gave permission to eight of the Second Massachusetts prisoners to go out with me as an escort for the burial of their companion.

The number of killed, wounded, and prisoners of the Second Massachusetts may be approximately stated thus: killed, eight; wounded, thirty; prisoners, ninety.

Our men have suffered from want of food, but only because the Confederates had it not to give them.

The wounded are doing well, and are in fine spirits. Company I, especially, is in fine spirits.

It should not be omitted in the record of the scenes of Sunday, that, in the retreat through the town, citizens fired from the houses upon our flying and straggling soldiers.

Within an hour after the Rebel occupation of the town, Confederate flags were flying from windows, the women appeared gayly dressed on the streets, with Confederate colors, and wearing also little flags. The houses were vocal with “Maryland! my Maryland!” and “The Bonnie Blue Flag!”

There is little doubt, however, that the Rebel loss far exceeded ours. The hospitals are crowded with their wounded. They lost, also, many officers. Their wounded are much more severely wounded than ours. I have heard that the official reports show the loss on Sunday to be ninety-six killed and one hundred and ninety-two wounded.

I got, from conversations with various officers and soldiers, certain interesting facts connected with the pursuit and retreat. I inquired about the charge of cavalry near Bartonsville. “Who was it ambuscaded us there?” was their inquiry. And it seemed, from further conversation, that it was a serious interruption of their advance, and a cause of loss to them. It led them to bring forward their infantry, which gave us a fortunate delay to get our knapsacks. At General Jackson's head-quarters I saw the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fifth or Second Virginia Regiment. He asked, with interest, who it was that was at the run near Bartonsville. I told him I had that honor. He said that he had three companies deployed there of his regiment, and he added that he did not care to fight us again in the dark. Privates of the Fifth and Second Virginia reported that Jackson told them they should be in Winchester on Saturday night. The Fifth and Second are from the neighborhood of Winchester, and were coming home. Some unexplained cause led Jackson to hold them back at Newtown, otherwise they would have attacked us there.

In the battle on Sunday morning, it was Taylor's Louisiana brigade that went round to our right. Wheat's battalion was a part of that command, and he told me about the movement. Jackson had a very large force, eight or ten thousand men, moving on the pike. On our left was a part of Ewell's force, which engaged the First Brigade. One of their regiments (a North Carolina regiment) suffered severely from the fire of the Fifth Connecticut; but their force swept into the town even before the Louisiana brigade turned our right.

Jackson's forces were so jaded and worn down that they could not keep up the pursuit. The infantry was halted about four miles from town. The cavalry continued the pursuit. The colonels of the infantry regiments kept sending word to Jackson that their men could not keep on. Jackson had been marching his men without baggage, almost without food, from Franklin, where he had engaged Milroy. He crossed the Massanattan Gap at New Market, kept up the Valley at Front Royal. The number of his forces must have been between twenty and thirty thousand. It consisted of Ewell's and Johnson's (Edward) and his own command. They pushed rapidly on, and were promised that they should go into Maryland!

The young soldier who took possession of me was on foot, but he told me he belonged to the Second Virginia Cavalry. “Where is your horse?” said I. “He was shot last night when we were ambuscaded,” was the reply. Then I informed him that we shot him.

To-night (Friday evening, May 30) there is every evidence of alarm and retreat on the part of our captors. We are expecting every kind of good news, and hoping that they will be too late to carry us off on their retreat.
_______________

1 Dr. Francis Leland, Surgeon of the Second Massachusetts Infantry.

2 Four years later, almost on the very anniversary of this burial, friends of Major Dwight sought and found the consecrated spot. They were guided thither by a man from the immediate vicinity, who, when asked if he remembered, on Sunday afternoon, after General Banks's retreat in May, 1862, seeing a Union officer with some of his men, under a Rebel guard, come out upon the hill yonder to bury four Union soldiers, replied, “I should think I ought to remember it; I helped to dig the graves.” The cedar had been recently cut down, but the stump remained, and beside it were the four graves. The bodies had only the week before been removed to a soldiers' cemetery in Winchester, and those who visited the spot stood, as Major Dwight had stood, over the open graves. The form of the bodies was distinctly visible, and outside the graves were portions of the blankets in which they were wrapped, the visor of one of their caps, and other relics of them. Nearby was the broken stone-wall,” behind which the two of the buried men belonging to the Second Massachusetts had perished, and within sight were all the most interesting points connected with the battle and the retreat.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 252-63

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Colonel George H. Gordon to Captain William D. Wilkins, May 28, 1862

HEADQUARTERS THIRD BRIGADE,
Camp near Williamsport, Md.
[May 28, 1862.]

CAPTAIN: Agreeably to instructions received from headquarters of the division, I have the honor to report the movements of my brigade in all engagement with the enemy on the 25th instant in front of and less than a third of a mile from the town of Winchester, Va.. At dawn in the morning I received information through the officer commanding the pickets that the enemy in large numbers were driving them in and approaching the town. I immediately formed my brigade in line of battle, the right resting upon the commanding ridge, the left extending into the valley. The ridge surrounds the town, which it holds as in a basin. It is less than one-third of a mile distant, and presents many key-points for positions. I placed my artillery, Battery M, of First New York, composed of six 6-pounder Parrotts, under Lieutenant Peabody, upon the ridge, and thus awaited further developments.

About 5 a.m. skirmishers from the Second Massachusetts, on the right and crest of the hill, became sharply engaged. At about the same time I directed the battery to open upon the columns of the enemy evidently moving into position just to the right and front of my center. This was done with admirable effect. The columns disappeared over the crest. For more than an hour a fire of shell and canister from several rebel batteries was directed upon my position. My brigade, being somewhat protected by a ravine, suffered but little loss. The fire of our skirmishers and the spirited replies of the battery, with heavy musketry and artillery firing on our left in Donnelly's brigade, were the only marked features of the contest until after 6 a.m.

At about 6.30, perhaps nearer 7 a.m. large bodies of infantry could be seen making their way in line of battle toward my right. They moved under cover of the dense wood, thus concealing somewhat their numbers. I directed the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania Regiment, Colonel Murphy, and the Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment, Colonel Colgrove, to change position from the left to the right of line, holding the Second Massachusetts, Lieutenant-Colonel Andrews, first on the right, in the center, the Third Wisconsin Regiment, Colonel Ruger, forming the left. This movement I had hardly completed, despite a new battery which opened upon my line, when three large battalions of infantry moving in order of battle, came out from their cover and approached my brigade. They were received with a destructive fire of musketry, poured in from all parts of my line that could reach them. Confident in their numbers and relying upon larger sustaining bodies (suspicions of which behind the covering timbers in our front were surely confirmed), the enemy's lines moved on, but little shaken by our fire. At the same time, in our front, a long line of infantry showed themselves, rising the crest of the bills just beyond our position. My little brigade, numbering in all just 2,102, in another moment would have been overwhelmed. On its right, left, and center immensely superior columns were pressing. Not another man was available; not a support to be found in the remnant of his army corps left General Banks. To withdraw was now possible; in another moment it would have been too late.

At this moment I should have assumed the responsibility of requesting permission to withdraw, but the right fell back under great pressure, which compelled the line to yield. I fell back slowly, but generally in good order, the Second Massachusetts, in column of companies, moving by flank; the Third Wisconsin, in line of battle, moving to the rear. On every side above the surrounding crest surged the rebel forces. A sharp and withering fire of musketry was opened by the enemy from the crest upon our center, left, and right. The yells of a victorious and merciless foe were above the din of battle, but my command was not dismayed. The Second Massachusetts halted in a street of the town to reform its line, then pushed on with the column, which, with its long train of baggage wagons, division, brigade, and regimental, was making its way in good order toward Martinsburg.

My retreating column suffered serious loss in the streets of Winchester. Males and females vied with each other in increasing the number of their victims, by firing from the houses, throwing hand grenades, hot water, and missiles of every description. The hellish spirit of murder was carried on by the enemy's cavalry, who followed to butcher, and who struck down with saber and pistol the hapless soldier, sinking from fatigue, unheeding his cries for mercy, indifferent to his claims as a prisoner of war.

This record of infamy is preserved for the females of Winchester. But this is not all. Our wounded in hospital, necessarily left to the mercies of our enemies, I am credibly informed, were bayoneted by the rebel infantry. In the same town, in the same apartments where we, when victors on the fields of Winchester, so tenderly nursed the rebel wounded, were we so more than barbarously rewarded. The rebel cavalry, it would appear, give no quarter. It cannot be doubted that they butchered our stragglers; that they fight under a black flag; that they cried as they slew the wearied and jaded, “Give no quarter to the damned Yankees.”

The actual number of my brigade engaged was 2,102.

In estimating the force of the enemy I turn for a moment to the movement of the First Division from Strasburg to Winchester on the preceding day, the 24th, and my engagement with the enemy during the march, which assured me of their presence in great force upon our right flank.
The capture and destruction of Colonel Kenly's command (First Brigade) on the 23d at Front Royal while guarding our railroad communication with Washington and the facts set forth in my report of my engagement on the 24th tended to a conviction of the presence of a large force under General Ewell in the valley of the Shenandoah. The union of Jackson with Johnson, composing an army larger by many thousands than the two small brigades, with some cavalry and sixteen pieces of artillery,, which comprised the entire army corps of General Banks, furnishes evidence justifying a belief of the intention of the enemy to cut us off first from re-enforcements, second to capture us and our material, beyond peradventure.

From the testimony of our signal officers and from a fair estimate of the number in rebel lines drawn up on the heights, from fugitives and deserters, the number of regiments in the rebel army opposite Winchester was 28, being Ewell's division, Jackson's and Johnson's forces, the whole being commanded by General Jackson. These regiments were full, and could not have numbered much less than 22,000 men, with a corresponding proportion of artillery, among which were included two of the English Blakely guns. Less than 4,000 men in two brigades, with sixteen pieces of artillery, kept this large and unequal force in check for about three hours; then retreating in generally good order, preserved its entire trains and accomplished a march of 36 miles.

Where all the regiments in my brigade behaved so well it is not intended to reflect in the least upon others in mentioning the steadiness and perfect discipline which marked the action of the Second Massachusetts, Lieutenant-Colonel Andrews, and Third Wisconsin, Colonel Ruger. The enemy will long remember the destructive fire which three or four companies of the Third Wisconsin and a like number of the Second Massachusetts poured into them as these sturdy regiments moved slowly in line of battle and in column from the field.

I herewith inclose a list* of the killed, wounded, and missing of the several regiments of my brigade, hoping that the numbers will hereafter be reduced by arrivals of those marked missing. How many were captured it is impossible now to determine.

Colonel Murphy, Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania, is known to be a prisoner. Major Dwight, of the Second Massachusetts, while gallantly bringing up the rear of the regiment, was missed somewhere near or in the outskirts of the town. It is hoped that this promising and brave officer, so cool upon the field, so efficient everywhere, so much beloved by his regiment, and whose gallant services on the night of the 24th instant will never be forgotten by them, may have met no worse fate than to be held a prisoner of war.

To my personal staff, Lieut. C. P. Horton, Second Massachusetts Regiment, my assistant adjutant-general; to Lieut. H. B. Scott, of the same regiment, my aide-de-camp, I am indebted for promptness in transmission of orders, for efficiency and gallant services in action.

I desire to express my thanks to Colonels Murphy, Ruger, Colgrove, and Andrews, and to the officers and men generally of my command, especially to officers and men of Battery M, whose skill and courage tended so much by their destructive fire to disconcert the enemy and hold him in check.

In fine, in the two days of the 24th and 25th of May the larger portion of my brigade marched 61 miles, the Second Massachusetts skirmishing on the 24th for more than six hours with infantry, cavalry, and artillery, the entire command on the 25th fighting a battle.

I herewith inclose such reports of colonels of regiments as have been forwarded.

Respectfully,
 GEO. H. GORDON,
Colonel Second Massachusetts Regt., Comdg. Third Brigade.
 Capt. WILLIAM D. WILKINS,
 A. A. G., -Fifth Army Corps.
_______________

* See revised statement, p. 553

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 247; The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 12, Part 1 (Serial No. 15), p. 616-8

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse: May 7, 1863


Stafford C. H., May 7, 1863.

I am going to give you, without any introduction, a history of this last campaign against Richmond by the army under the great Joe Hooker. I believe I have seen it and judged it fairly.

On Monday, April 27th, our corps broke camp early in the morning and marched to Hartwood Church, ten miles; there it went into camp for the night. The Eleventh and Fifth Corps also came up there and camped in our vicinity; next morning, we all moved and camped that night near Kelly's Ford. A pontoon bridge was thrown across and the Eleventh was over before daylight Wednesday; the other corps followed rapidly and the advance began towards the Rapidan. The Eleventh and Twelfth marched on the road to Germana Ford, the Fifth on the road to Ely's Ford; all three of the corps were under command of General Slocum. I was detailed, the morning of the advance, as Aide to General Slocum, and another officer was made Acting Provost Marshal. All the companies of the Second Massachusetts were sent to the Regiment. We skirmished all the way to Germana Ford; there we met quite a determined resistance; our cavalry was drawn in and the Second Massachusetts and the Third Wisconsin sent forward to clear the way; they drove everything before them and, by their heavy fire, forced the rebels at the Ford to surrender (about one hundred officers and men). We lost in this skirmish about a dozen killed and wounded.

General Slocum now determined to cross the Rapidan, though there was no bridge and the ford was almost impassable. He sent the First and Third Brigade, (First Division, Twelfth Corps), through the water although it was more than waist deep, also five batteries of artillery, which took position on the other side of the river. A bridge was then constructed, and before daylight Thursday morning, the remainder of the Twelfth and Eleventh Corps were across the river. By eight o'clock, A. M., we were moving again. The rebels kept attacking us on our flank with cavalry and artillery, and any less bold officer than General Slocum would have halted his column and delayed the march; but he kept along steadily, detaching a small force at intervals to repel the enemy. I had the pleasure of superintending, at one of these skirmishes, having in charge the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania Regiment; we drove the rebels before us for nearly a mile, almost capturing their artillery, taking a large number of prisoners. At about noon, we arrived at Chancellorsville, and found the Fifth Corps already there. We had a small cavalry skirmish, in which Colonel McVicars was killed with about a dozen of his men, but besides that, nothing of importance occurred that day; the troops were formed in line of battle, but were not attacked. Up to this time you see everything had gone well and success seemed certain.

Towards night, General Hooker arrived with his staff, and we heard of the crossing at the U. S. Ford of the Second, Third and First Corps. All the headquarters were in the vicinity of the Chancellor House, a large, fine brick mansion. General Hooker took supper with General Slocum; he didn't seem to be able to express his gratification at the success of General Slocum in bringing the three corps up so rapidly. Then, in the most extravagant, vehement terms, he went on to say how he had got the rebels, how he was going to crush them, annihilate them, etc.

The next morning at ten, the Fifth and Twelfth Corps advanced in order of battle on two parallel roads; we soon met the enemy and skirmished for about two miles, when they appeared in considerable force and the battle began. We were in a splendid position and were driving the enemy when an order came to General Slocum to retire his command to its former position. No one could believe that the order was genuine, but almost immediately, another of General Hooker's staff brought the same order again. Now, perhaps, you don't know that to retire an army in the face of an enemy when you are engaged, is one of the most difficult operations in war; this we had to do. I carried the order to General Geary to retire his division in echelon by brigades, and stayed with him till the movement was nearly completed. It was a delicate job; each brigade would successively bear the brunt of the enemy's attack. Before the last brigades of the Fifth and Twelfth Corps were in position, the enemy made a furious attack on the Chancellor House; luckily, we had considerable artillery concentrated there and they were driven back. The next attack was on our corps, but the enemy were severely repulsed. This about ended the fighting on Friday; we lost, I suppose, about five hundred men.

During the night, the men were kept at work digging trenches and throwing up breastworks of logs. Our headquarters were at Fairview, an open piece of ground rising into quite a crest in the centre. Skirmishing began at daylight next morning and continued without much result to either side, till afternoon, when the enemy began to move, in large force, towards our right, opposite General Howard, Eleventh Corps. This corps was in a fine position in intrenchments, with almost open country in front of them, the right resting on Hunting creek. At about four P. M., the Third Corps, General Sickles, was moved out to the right of the Twelfth and advanced towards Fredericksburgh. The order then came to General Slocum that the enemy were in full retreat, and to advance his whole line to capture all he could of prisoners, wagons, etc. Our right, General Williams’ Division, advanced without much trouble, driving the enemy before it, but the Second Division had hardly got out of the trenches before it was attacked with great determination, yet it steadily retained its position. At about five P. M., a tremendous and unceasing musketry fire began in the direction of the Eleventh Corps. As it was necessary to know what was going on there in order to regulate the movements of the Twelfth Corps, General Slocum and the rest of us rode for our lives towards this new scene of action. What was our surprise when we found, that instead of a fight, it was a complete Bull Run rout. Men, horses, mules, rebel prisoners, wagons, guns, etc., etc., were coming down the road in terrible confusion, behind them an unceasing roar of musketry. We rode until we got into a mighty hot fire, and found that no one was attempting to make a stand, but every one running for his life. Then General Slocum dispatched me to General Hooker to explain the state of affairs, and three other staff officers to find General Williams and order him back to his trenches with all haste.

I found General Hooker sitting alone on his horse in front of the Chancellor House, and delivered my message; he merely said, “Very good, sir.” I rode back and found the Eleventh Corps still surging up the road and still this terrible roar behind them. Up to this time, the rebels had received no check, but now troops began to march out on the plank road and form across it, and Captain Best, Chief of Artillery of our corps, had on his own responsibility gathered together all the batteries he could get hold of, had put them in position (forty-six guns in all) on Fairview, and had begun firing at the rate of about one hundred guns a minute, into the rebels. This, in my opinion, saved our army from destruction. After delivering my message to General Hooker, I went back and tried to find General Slocum, but it was now after eight o'clock and I was unsuccessful in my search, so I took hold and tried to rally some of the cowardly Dutchmen. With the help of one cavalry orderly, I succeeded in forming a good many of them on the left of the new line, but an unusually heavy volley coming, they broke and ran like sheep. After this little episode, I again searched after the General. Towards ten, I found the rest of the staff, and soon after, we came across the General. At about eleven, the fighting stopped, but we were all hard at work getting the men of our corps into position. You see, while our First Division was advancing, the rebels had routed the Teutons and were now occupying our trenches. The Second and Third Brigades got into their former position, but the First made out only to cut through the rebels, losing a large part of its men and taking a position considerably in the rear of its former one. General Sickles fought his way through with the exception of one division and one battery, which were left out in front of our lines that night. The artillery men were hard at work all night, throwing up traverses to protect their guns, and about two in the morning we all lay down on the ground and slept until about four, when daylight began to appear. Our right was now formed by the Third, Fifth and First Corps, about five hundred yards in the rear of our first position. The rebels began the attack, as soon as there was light enough, from the left of our First Division to about the right of the Third Corps. General Birney's Division of the Third Corps was out in front of General Williams; his men behaved badly, and after a slight resistance, fell back into our lines, losing a battery.

The rebels now charged down our First Division, but were met with such a deadly fire that they were almost annihilated. Their second line was then sent in, but met the same fate, and their third and last line advanced. Our men now had fired more than forty rounds of cartridges and were getting exhausted. General Slocum sent almost every one of his staff officers to General Hooker, stating his position and begging for support; Hooker's answer was, “I can't make men or ammunition for General Slocum.” Meantime, Sickles' Corps was holding its own on the right of ours, but it was rapidly getting into the same condition as the Twelfth. The rebels were driven back every time they advanced, and we were taking large numbers of prisoners and colors. All this time while our infantry was fighting so gallantly in front, our battery of forty-six guns was firing incessantly. The rebels had used no artillery till they captured the battery from Birney, when they turned that on us, making terrible destruction in General Geary's line. General Meade, Fifth Corps, now went to Hooker and entreated that he might be allowed to throw his corps on the rebel flank, but General Hooker said, “No, he was wanted in his own position.” On his own responsibility, General Meade sent out one brigade, which passed out in rear of the enemy's right, recaptured a battery, three hundred of our men who were prisoners, and four hundred of the rebels, and took them safely back to their corps.

It was now after seven o'clock. Our men had fired their sixty rounds of cartridges and were still holding their position; everything that brave men could do, these men had done, but now nothing was left but to order them to fall back and give up their position to the enemy. This was done in good order and they marched off under a heavy fire to the rear of our batteries. The rebels, seeing us retreating, rushed forward their artillery and began a fearful fire. I found I could be useful to Captain Best, commanding our artillery, so I stayed with him. I never before saw anything so fine as the attack on that battery; the air was full of missiles, solid shot, shells, and musket balls. I saw one solid shot kill three horses and a man, another took a leg off one of the captains of the batteries. Lieutenant Crosby of the Fourth Artillery was shot through the heart with a musket ball; he was a particular friend of Bob Shaw and myself; he lived just long enough to say to Captain Best, “Tell father I die happy.”

The rebels came up to the attack in solid masses and got within three hundred yards, but they were slaughtered by the hundreds by the case-shot and canister, and were driven back to the woods. Still not an infantry man was sent to the support of the guns. More than half the horses were killed or wounded; one caisson had blown up, another had been knocked to pieces; in ten minutes more, the guns would have been isolated. They, too, therefore, were ordered to retire, which they did without losing a gun. You see, now, our centre was broken, everything was being retired to our second line, the rebel artillery was in position, their line of battle steadily advancing across our old ground. This fire of the batteries was concentrated on the Chancellor House, Hooker's original headquarters, and it was torn almost to pieces by solid shot and was finally set on fire by a shell.

The army was now put in position in the second line; the centre was on a rising piece of ground and protected by a battery of forty or fifty guns. The Fifth Corps was on the right and was the last to fall back out of the woods and it was closely followed by the rebel masses, but these were met by such a tremendous artillery fire that they were actually rolled back into the woods. Our corps was ordered to support first the Third, afterwards the Second and Eleventh. Towards night the enemy made another desperate assault on our centre, but they were again repulsed. Our corps was now ordered to the extreme left to form behind the Eleventh. I believe that General Slocum remonstrated with General Hooker so firmly that he finally got permission to put the Twelfth Corps on the extreme left and to have only one division of the Eleventh in the trenches on his right.

You can easily see that, if the enemy once forced our right or left, our communications would at once be cut and all possibility of retreat prevented. Late that night, we lay down close beside the Rappahannock. By three o'clock next morning, we were awakened by a heavy artillery fire and shells bursting over us. Our guns replied and kept at it for about an hour, when the enemy's batteries were silenced. We now mounted our horses and rode along the lines to look at our position; we found that it was a very strong one and capable of being made very much more so.
We found that the sharpshooters were getting altogether too attentive to our party, so we moved back to our line and had hardly turned away, when a sergeant was shot dead almost on the spot where the general had been standing. All that day, our men were hard at work throwing up breastworks, cutting abattis, etc. No attack was made on us, but throughout that day and night, we heard Sedgwick fighting in the direction of Fredericksburgh.

Tuesday morning, I knew by appearances that a retreat was to be effected, as a large part of the artillery, all the ambulances, etc., were removed across the river, although the men were kept at work making line after line of trenches and breastworks. Just before dark, the order of retreat came, the Fifth and Twelfth Corps being the last to cross. About four o'clock that afternoon it began to rain in torrents. There were originally three pontoon bridges, but before most of the crossing had been effected, the river became so swollen that one of the bridges had to be taken up to piece out the other two; this caused a great delay. At about twelve, I was sent down to the ford to examine into the condition of things; it was a terrible night, the wind blowing a gale and the rain pouring, the road for a mile full of artillery. I found, at the bridge, that not a thing was moving, and learned from General Patrick that the order for retreat had been suspended and everything was to move back to its former position. This order came, remember, when half of the artillery was on the north side of the Rappahannock, the soldiers without a ration and the supply trains ten miles the other side of the river. I ran my horse back to headquarters and made my report; the telegraph was down between U. S. Ford and Falmouth, where General Hooker was. General Slocum wrote a dispatch, saying, that unless the movement was continued, our army would have to be surrendered within twenty-four hours; this was sent by an orderly who was ordered to kill his horse carrying it. Then to prepare for the worst, General Slocum sent one of his aides and myself back to the Ford to get our artillery ready to move back into position, that our corps might, at least, be ready to make a desperate fight in the morning; but at about two-thirty A. M., the messenger returned from General Hooker with orders for the movement to continue.

At about five, one of our divisions began to cross. The two or three succeeding hours were the most anxious I ever passed in my life. A large part of our army was massed on the south side of the river, only two bridges for the whole of it to cross, the river full to the edge of its banks; a very little extra strain would have carried away the upper bridge, and this would have swept away the lower one and all retreat would have been cut off. The rebel artillery began to fire on our troops and bridges, but was silenced by our guns; we had sixty in position on the north side.
It soon became evident that the enemy were not in force in our vicinity, but for all that, it was one of the happiest moments of my life when I saw the last of our corps over the bridge. We all started then for Stafford C. H., where our corps was ordered to its old camp. We arrived at our old headquarters at about two P. M., and found, to our joy, that our wagons had arrived and tents were being pitched. It was not until after we were in comfortable quarters that the terrible fatigue of the last ten days began to tell on us. Since we had left Stafford, we had been without wagons or blankets, with nothing to eat except pork and hard bread, and half the time not even that, and we had averaged each day at least twelve or sixteen hours in the saddle. The moment we touched a seat, we sunk into the most profound sleep and stayed in this condition for several hours. It may seem strange to you that I speak of being happy to get back into our old quarters, but you must remember that we had been through danger and hardship for ten days and had met with constant disappointment and were now safe back again where we were going to have sleep, rest, and food.

Now, let us see what this campaign shows. It seems to me that the plan was a very good one, with the exception of separating Sedgwick with thirty thousand men from the army, and that it was carried out with great success till General Hooker arrived at Chancellorsville. The next thing shown is that the commander of our army gained his position by merely brag and blow, and that when the time came to show himself, he was found without the qualities necessary for a general. If another battle had been fought on Monday, it would have been by the combined corps commanders, and the battle would have been won.

I doubt if, ever in the history of this war, another chance will be given us to fight the enemy with such odds in our favor as we had last Sunday, and that chance has been worse than lost to us. I don't believe any men ever fought better than our Twelfth Corps, especially the First Division; for two hours, they held their ground without any support, against the repeated assaults of the enemy; they fired their sixty rounds of cartridges and held their line with empty muskets till ordered to fall back. The old Second, of course, did splendidly, and lost heavily, twenty-two killed, one hundred and four wounded, ten missing; my company had five killed and eleven wounded. Lieutenant Fitzgerald was killed, Coggswell, Grafton, Perkins, and Powers, wounded. George Thompson had a narrow escape; a grape shot tore one leg of his trousers and his coat almost off and grazed his leg. Our colors got thirty new holes in them and the staff (the third one), was smashed to pieces.*

You cannot imagine the amount of admiration I have for General Slocum, for the gallant way in which he conducted himself throughout the campaign, and his skillful management of his command; then besides all that, we have been so together, that he has seemed almost like my old friends in the regiment.

I have written in this letter a pretty full account of the operations as I have seen them, and I don't believe any one has had a better chance, for during the fighting, I was at different times at every part of our lines, and in communication with General Hooker and other generals.

Our staff casualties were as follows: — Lieutenant Tracy, badly wounded in right arm, his horse shot in four places; one of our orderlies shot and two more horses. I feel thankful to have come out unharmed from so much danger. Tracy was carrying an order to General Williams, when he was hit: somehow, he got outside our lines and was ordered to surrender; he said he thought he wouldn't, turned his horse and ran for it, while the rebels put two volleys after him.

I telegraphed, last Monday, that I was all right; I hope you received the message.
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* Actual loss: 31 killed and mortally wounded, 91 wounded, 7 prisoners. Total loss, 129.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 127-39

Saturday, August 1, 2015

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, May 29, 1862

May 29, 1862.

I am going to start to give you a detailed account of what has transpired during the last week; whether I shall be interrupted or not, I cannot tell. Last Friday, after dress parade, I went out for my usual ride with Jim Savage. We met an artillery man, who cautioned us about riding outside of the camps, as they had just had a man shot by guerillas within a short distance of camp, and several others had been fired at. This shortened our ride. No sooner were we back at camp than we heard of an attack at Front Royal. The Third Wisconsin of our brigade was immediately ordered over there. At half-past two that same night, we were roused and ordered to strike tents and pack wagons at once. From that time till daylight, we sat around waiting further orders; none came till Saturday at ten A. M., when the whole division started down towards Winchester. After marching five or six miles, one of Banks' aides came galloping back from the front to order up a battery, saying that the enemy were right ahead of us attacking the wagon train. We halted for a short time, but the alarm proved to be false; only one wagoner had been shot by a guerilla, but this was sufficient for Banks to make up his mind that the wagons were safer behind than in front.

We kept on in this way till the town of Newtown was passed. Soon after, we halted, and a section of Cathran's and a section of Best's batteries were sent to the rear. In less than fifteen minutes a brisk cannonading commenced, and our regiment and the Twenty-seventh Indiana were ordered double quick towards the sound of it. We found the wagon train in a perfect heap in and on each side of the road, some wagons tipped over, and a great many deserted by their drivers. The men were allowed here to take off their knapsacks and overcoats which were left piled up in the field under a guard. The rebel cavalry ran as soon as we deployed, leaving a good many killed and wounded by our shells. The enemy were drawn up (how many we do not know) just beyond Newtown, with cavalry stretching out on each flank; they commenced the skirmish by shelling us; the second shell wounded two men of Company A. We took up a good position on each side of them, with the artillery on each flank. We fought here with our artillery for nearly two hours until our wagon train was fairly started and most of it in Winchester. Then, just as it began to get dark, the artillery and the Twenty-seventh Indiana filed away and left us alone to cover the retreat to Winchester. Companies A, B, C and D were thrown out as skirmishers; hardly were we out of town than the enemy's cavalry and artillery dashed in, with a tremendous yell of triumph. They attacked us at once. We fell back without any hurry, firing all the time, till we got to a little bridge the other side of Cairnstown, where half the regiment made a stand while the other half got their knapsacks. The rebels here closed right around us; they were so near we heard every order, and were able to make our dispositions accordingly. There was not a word spoken in our regiment, by officer or man, above a whisper, and it was so dark that nothing could be seen except by the flashes of our muskets. Finally, we heard the order given to the rebel cavalry to “Charge!” A square was instantly formed in the road, and the skirmishers rallied on each side. The rebels came thundering down the road, literally making the ground shake. Not a shot was fired until they were within fifty yards of us, when Major Dwight gave the order, “Rear rank, aim! fire! load! Front rank, aim! fire! Charge bayonets!” But the bayonets were not needed. Men and horses were rolled over together, breaking the charge and sending them back in confusion.

This was the last attack of their cavalry that night; they fell back and their infantry took their place. The firing here was very heavy, but we finally drove them back again after losing about twenty of our men killed and wounded. The men had now all got their knapsacks, and we again started back. All of the wounded that could walk were sent on ahead towards Winchester, but nine had to be carried into a house to wait for ambulances. Colonel Andrews wouldn't abandon these, so we halted again, throwing out a strong guard in every direction. It was now eleven o'clock, the men were tired out, having been up for twenty-four hours. They sank right down in the road and a great many went to sleep, I among the rest. I don't know how long it was, but we were awakened by a tremendous volley being poured into us from almost every side, and for about a minute I could hardly collect myself, but I gave the orders for my platoon, which was then in the rear, to “dress, face about and fire!” I lost two men by their volley, both badly wounded. We were obliged to abandon our dead and wounded here and Doctor Leland was taken prisoner.

At one A. M., Sunday morning, we reached the bivouac of our brigade, stacked arms, lay down tired enough, to get a short sleep. Our total loss that night was somewhere about twenty or thirty. Company I suffered the most severely, losing about twelve.

I have been as minute as possible in describing this fight because I believe that we saved the entire train from destruction and kept the whole rebel force in check. Great credit is due to Colonel Gordon, Colonel Andrews and Major Dwight; the latter especially displayed the most perfect bravery and coolness. The men never obeyed better on drill or parade than they did under the hottest fire; they behaved splendidly throughout the whole.

At daylight on Sunday, our cavalry picket was driven in and soon afterwards the infantry; still no orders arrived as to the disposition of our brigade. Finally, after the rebel infantry began to deploy, Colonel Gordon would wait no longer and ordered us into line. On the right, the Second Massachusetts succeeded by the Wisconsin Third, Pennsylvania Twenty-ninth, Indiana Twenty-seventh, then came Colonel Donnelly's brigade consisting of the Fifth Connecticut, Forty-sixth Pennsylvania, and Twenty-eighth New York. In all, seven regiments not averaging six hundred men apiece. We had three first-rate batteries, and one or two regiments of cavalry that might just as well have been at home for all we saw of them. We had no sooner taken arms and faced to the right, than the infantry commenced firing. Not many of our men were hit, and we moved steadily on till we reached our appointed place. Meanwhile, the batteries on each side were keeping up an incessant roar. We attacked the two regiments opposite our position and drove them away. Two companies, G and D, were then deployed as skirmishers to attack the battery in front of us; their fire was so well directed that the guns were abandoned by the gunners, but the rebel infantry pressed them (Companies D and G) so closely that they were withdrawn by Colonel Andrews' order just as the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania and the Twenty-seventh Indiana came up to their support. These latter fired a few volleys; then, as two rebel regiments came out of the woods, prepared to charge them, but before they had fairly started, seven more regiments emerged from the woods stretching almost down to Winchester. The firing was then tremendous, and, I am sorry to say, the Twenty-seventh Indiana broke and ran, every man for himself. The Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania filed off in good order at the double quick. Colonel Andrews gave the order: “Attention! battalion! About face! By company right wheel!” We marched away from the enemy in ordinary time, company front, in the most perfect order. The rebels instantly took our former position and commenced a pelting fire; they were within short range, yet almost all their shots went over our heads, otherwise our regiment would have been destroyed. It was cruel to see our poor fellows shot through the back and pitch forward on to their faces, as we marched down the hill. As soon as we reached the town, we took the first street on our right hand, and there formed line. Then it seemed to be first discovered how completely we were outflanked and the strong probability that, in a few minutes, their artillery would be posted in our rear, cutting off all avenues of retreat.

We were then again faced to the left and started on the double quick through the town. Meanwhile, the enemy had gained the Martinsburgh pike parallel to the street we were on, and were pouring a heavy fire on us through the side streets, and numbers of men fell dead here that can only be accounted for as missing.

After getting out of town, they again began with their artillery, throwing grape and canister. Here the retreat was better organized: the whole division formed into five parallel columns, two or three hundred yards apart, all going on the double quick. We continued this for a considerable distance when, having passed all their flanking batteries, the lines were closed in more to the centre, the artillery and cavalry formed in the rear, and we went on in ordinary time. This was the last I saw of any fighting, although there was a constant firing in the rear of us. We marched twenty-three miles to Martinsburgh without a halt. There we rested for about ten minutes, then marched on to the Potomac, thirteen miles further. We brought up here between seven and eight o'clock P. M., after twelve hours' incessant marching. From twelve o'clock Saturday noon till seven o'clock Sunday night, we had marched sixty miles,* been in two severe fights, had only three hours' rest, and had scarcely a particle of food.

Our loss in the regiment, as well as it can be ascertained to-day (Friday), is nineteen killed, forty-seven wounded, eighty-three missing. None are considered killed unless they were seen dead by some one. We were the last regiment that left the field from the right flank, and the very last in Winchester. I forgot to say that the United States storehouses were in flames as we passed by them, and the heat was perfectly terrible. The loss in our company was eleven.

Monday morning at three o'clock, I was roused by the Adjutant and ordered to report with Company B, together with Companies A, K, and E, and two companies of the Third Wisconsin, to Lieutenant Colonel Pinckney of the Third Wisconsin, to act as rear guard and support to a section of Cathran's battery and some cavalry, while the wagon train and troops crossed the river. We were in this responsible place till Wednesday night, when we were relieved. It was a most anxious time, as the enemy, in what force we did not know, were within a mile of us and we were receiving constant alarms from our cavalry. The first night, we kept our men under arms all the time, tired as they were. However, we got safely across Wednesday night, and I had the pleasure of taking my shoes and clothes off and getting a little quiet sleep for the first time since last Friday night.

Our greatest loss is the poor Major, but he may turn up yet. The men think everything of him and speak constantly of the “bully little Major.” Captain Mudge is at Frederick, shot through the leg. Lieutenant Crowninshield is at Williamsport, shot in the leg.
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* The actual distance from Strasburg to the Potomac is 54 miles, but including countermarching and movements on the field, the total distance marched was not much less than 60 miles.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 57-64

Saturday, June 27, 2015

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, April 7, 1862

Camp Near Edinburgh, April 7, 1862.

As I write less often now, you must expect me to be more voluminous, and I shall stick to my form of journal, as it may be interesting to me as well as you, some of these days, to have a connected history of our small share in this campaign.

The Saturday following my last letter, our whole regiment was ordered to go on outpost duty. We started about four o'clock and relieved the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania. By the way, at this time our regiment consisted of only eight companies, Company G being on provost marshal and off at Centreville, and Company A being at Snicker's Ferry guarding the bridge over the Shenandoah. I had command of Company D, Captain Savage was sick. Three companies were held in reserve, the other five, B, D, E, H, and K, formed the pickets, furnishing the outposts and sentinels. We did not get our men posted till dark, and then it began to storm, raining, hailing, thundering and lightening. My company did not have the slightest shelter, and at the outposts no fires were allowed. The rain froze as fast as it fell, giving everything a coating of ice; altogether it was what might be called a pretty tough night. Morning came at last, and then I found that we were within a hundred yards of a big barn full of hay and straw; of course I moved the company right into it and had big fires built in front of the door, making things seem quite comfortable. The next thing to do was to push out the outposts and sentinels; this I did in connection with the other officers, until we came in sight of the enemy's vedettes. They do all their outpost duty in our neighborhood with Ashby's cavalry. It is an interesting sight to see their line of horsemen slowly walking back and forth on a ridge, standing full out against the sky.

About nine o'clock, Company F was sent out to make a reconnoissance of their position, but was driven back by a large force of cavalry. In the afternoon, they ran a gun down to within a mile of us and fired a few shells; one of them burst within a few yards of one of my men, but did no damage. We were relieved in the afternoon by the Third Wisconsin.

Monday night, we were waked up to draw and cook rations, and received orders to march in the morning. At nine next morning, our line was formed; our brigade had the advance of all. As soon as we came in sight of the enemy's vedettes, the column was halted; five of our companies were deployed as skirmishers, H, C, F, B, and I, forming a line a mile or more wide. As we advanced within rifle range, they fell back: wherever they had any woods to take advantage of, they would stay on the edge and fire at us as we came across the open, but they shot very badly, most of their bullets going over our heads. One of Company I received a bullet in his breast-plate, bending it all up and passing through his overcoat, dress coat and shirt, inflicting a slight wound. Occasionally they would give our men a chance to fire, but very seldom, though we managed to kill several of their horses, and, I think, wound some of their men. Going through Woodstock was very lively; the rebels planted their battery in the middle of the street, and shelled away at our main body until our skirmishers almost flanked them. One of our shells went straight through a church steeple and through one wall of the jail.

We marched thirteen miles, the shelling and firing continuing the whole way. The enemy burnt their bridges as they retreated; there were four splendid railroad bridges burned in this way. We almost caught them at Edinburgh; the two bridges across Stony Creek had not been on fire fifteen minutes when we arrived. The enemy, knowing we could not ford that stream, took up a position and shelled away at us, but our battery silenced them in less than a quarter of an hour, firing with great accuracy right into the middle of them. One of the Third Wisconsin was killed here, and three or four others slightly wounded. It seemed impossible that we should get off with so small a loss; the shells seemed to strike everywhere except where our men were. My good boy Hogan knocked one of their cavalry out of his saddle at nearly five hundred yards; he is quite a hero now in the company. As night came on, the firing ceased and we went into bivouac near by. The day was a very exciting one, and though it really amounted to nothing as a fight, on account of none of our men being hurt, yet it was good practice for us and gave us confidence under fire. Our pickets along the river are in sight of the enemy's all the time.

Last Friday our company was detailed to accompany some signal officers up one of the mountains of the Blue Ridge, to establish a signal station. We had a hard climb of it; the mountain was very steep, the view on top superb. You could see up and down the Shenandoah valley for miles; could see some of Jackson's camps and a section of a battery within a short distance of our outposts; most of his force is concealed by woods. That night we bivouacked about half-way down the mountain. Our position was so isolated that we didn't dare to have any fires, but we did not mind much, as the night was warm and the moon bright. I thought, as I lay down, how impossible it would have been for me to conceive of being in such a position a year ago. It was the wildest place we have ever been in, the nearest house being a mile or more off.

Towards morning I was awakened by hearing the pleasant sound of rain-drops pattering around my head; a delightful sound, you know, when you have a roof over you, but not so pleasant when there is nothing between you and the clouds. There was nothing to do but pull my blanket over my head and sleep until daylight. No signalling could be done that day, so we marched down the hill and put the company in the nearest barn; we officers took a room in an adjoining house. Sunday was a beautiful day, and we again ascended the mountains. Monday I returned to camp.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 48-52

Saturday, June 20, 2015

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, March 28, 1862

Camp South Of Strasburg, March 28, 1862.

You must be expecting, by this time, to hear some account of what we have been up to for these last ten days. I will give you a journal of things as they have happened.

Last Friday afternoon, our brigade received orders for a four days' march to Centreville, fifty-five miles across the Shenandoah and over the mountains; the Second brigade had gone the day before; the First was to follow us. Our brigade formed line and started at ten Saturday morning, and made a good march of fifteen miles to Snicker's Ferry on the Shenandoah, passing through Berryville; we camped there. Reveille the next morning was beaten at five o'clock; at seven, things were moving; our regiment that day being put in the rear of everything. The Third Wisconsin, Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania, and Twenty-seventh Indiana, had crossed the bridge and half the supply train was over, when a refractory team of mules succeeded in making a bad break, two mules were drowned, and of course our chance of crossing was small until the bridge was repaired.

It was near night before it was ready, and we were ordered to camp again where we were. Reveille Monday morning at five o'clock. Mounted orderlies coming at the gallop brought us news of a fight at Winchester. Our march was countermanded and we were ordered back with a section of artillery and some cavalry to Berryville. Here we stayed, guarding the approaches till noon, when the rest of the brigade came up. Starting at about one, we marched back to Winchester, arriving there just before dark. Our regiment was quartered in some empty warehouses. We officers had the ticket office of the railroad for our quarters. I will give you now an account of the skirmish and fight of Saturday and Sunday, as I have heard it from eye-witnesses and from soldiers engaged. A few hours after the First and Third brigades had marched away from Winchester, Colonel Ashby, with a few hundred cavalry and a battery of artillery, drove in the pickets of General Shields' division, and came with his force almost into town; our side pitched in and took a good many prisoners; no great harm was done except that General Shields had his arm fractured by a shell grazing it.

That night, every precaution was taken to guard against surprise. The next morning, the enemy again appeared in small numbers, and there was cannonading on both sides throughout the day till three o'clock, when their infantry appeared. Our line was formed and the fight began. We had six regiments engaged; their force must have been between seven and eight thousand. The fighting was of the fiercest description for two hours, when the rebels gave way and retreated, leaving in our hands two hundred and forty-two prisoners, and between two and three hundred dead on the field and several hundred wounded. Our loss was about a hundred killed and four or five hundred wounded. The rebels fought as well as they ever can fight. They were close to their homes, numbers of them living in Winchester, and we whipped them by sheer hard fighting at short range. Persons who were near by told me that for two hours there was not an interval of a second between the firing of the musketry. Captain Carey, of our regiment, whose company is on provost marshal duty in Winchester, had a pretty hard duty that night; he had to provide quarters for the wounded of both sides as they were brought into town. All night long they were brought in by the wagon load, every empty house and room in town was filled with them; the poor fellows had to be laid right down on the floor, nothing, of course, being provided for them. Monday they were gradually made more comfortable, yet as late as Monday night, when we arrived in town, there were numbers of wounded who had not seen a surgeon.

Tuesday morning, I went into the Court House, which had been turned into a hospital. In the yard, there were two cannon which we had captured; one of them was taken from us at Bull Run and belongs to a battery in our division. Just in the entrance were about twenty of our men that had died, laid out in their uniform for burial, their faces covered by the cape of their overcoat. The sight inside was of the most painful description; there were sixty or seventy of the wounded in the room, mostly of the enemy, and the most of them very severely wounded. Generally they did not seem to suffer much, but there were some in dreadful agony. I saw one nice-looking young fellow that I pitied very much. He could not have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, and was mortally wounded, shot through the body. He was sitting up resting against the wall; his eyes were closed and there was almost a smile on his face. You could see, though, by the deathly color of his face, that he had only a few minutes to live. It seemed hard that he should have to die there with no one near that knew him. There was one rebel captain who was shot across the forehead, blinded and mortally wounded, who, when our surgeon attempted to help him, slapped him in the face and said he wouldn't let any “damned Yankee” touch him; he relented, however, in the afternoon and had his wounds dressed. I will say this for our two surgeons, they worked nobly for nearly twenty-four hours without rest.

During the day, the ladies of the town brought a great many comforts to the wounded of their side, but everything was refused for particular individuals, and they became more charitable and gave a great deal of aid to the surgeons.

One of the rebel wounded was George Washington, of the present Sophomore class at Cambridge; as he was brought in, he recognized Lieutenant Crowninshield, who was his classmate, and spoke to him. G. W. is of the old Washington family and, of course, one of the “F. F. Vs.” He was serving as a private; he has been made a great hero of in Winchester; he is said to be mortally wounded.

About ten o'clock, after visiting the hospital, Captains Savage and Russell and myself walked out to the battle-field, four or five miles from town. On the road as we approached it, were the marks of shells, dead horses and cows lying about where they were struck. At the side of the road where our artillery turned off, we found one of our men, the top and back of whose head had been entirely knocked off by a shell. The hardest fighting was along a ridge which the enemy attempted to hold. Along it for nearly a mile, the bodies of our soldiers and those of the enemy were scattered thick, although most of them were the enemy. In one little piece of thick woods, there were at least thirty of the enemy lying just as they fell; they were sheltered by a ledge of rocks, and most of them were shot through the head and had fallen directly backwards, lying flat on their backs with their arms stretched out in an easy, natural manner over their heads. Some were terrible to look at, but others looked as peaceful as if they were asleep. Men killed by a shot scarce ever have an expression of pain on their faces. It is astonishing how much less repulsive the bodies were that were lying about in this manner, than those that were regularly laid out in rows for burial.

The countrymen about here had, when we visited the ground, taken every button and other article of value off the bodies. I saw one who had had a daguerreotype cut out from a case that was hanging around his neck; almost all had had their boots taken off their feet. A number of people were out from Winchester, trying to recognize their townsmen. The bushes and trees here were completely riddled with bullets; there was not a twig the size of your finger that was not cut off, and trees the size of a man's body had every one at least three or four bullets in it. Our men shot remarkably well, as these things go to show. Several soldiers of Captain Carey's company got passes and went out to the fight and joined the Seventh Ohio; they fought well and took two prisoners and two rifles.

One of Captain Quincy's company, who was taken prisoner at Maryland Heights last year, and was released about a month ago, arrived at Winchester, on his way to join the regiment, the day of the fight; he went out to the battle and took a prisoner and a gun. At six o'clock that night (Tuesday), we got marching orders; at seven, we were on the way to Strasburg; we marched thirteen miles to just the other side of Middleton, arriving there between one and two A. M. We built fires here and lay down till daylight, then proceeded on to Strasburg, where we marched into a wood to bivouac. There was a good deal of sleeping done that night although we lay on the ground with nothing over our heads. Thursday morning, as we were quietly sitting around our fires, we heard the long roll beaten at the guard tent. An attack had been made on our outposts, and all disposable forces were marched in that direction. After going four miles, the firing stopped. Our brigade was halted in a fine wood where we are now camping.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 43-8

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

From Winchester

WINCHESTER, March 30. – The following wounded died yesterday and to-day, and were buried:

Michael Martin, 67th Ohio; unknown 29; Wm. Whitney, 13th Indiana; Isaac Jackson, 27th Ohio, died of fever; A. L. Brown, 8th Ohio and one unknown; another unknown – on his clothes were the initials “T. O. W.”  Wallace Calhoun, 7th Ohio; E. K. Bruce, 7th Ohio – his body has been delivered to his friends.

Previous to the forgoing, our losses stood as follows: killed and died of wounds, 103; wounded, 441; missing, 24.

Only a few reports of the detailed regiments, have been yet received, owing to the distant and scattered position of the regiments. – Three or four days will elapse before the full list of names can be received.  The wounded are now contained in two hospitals, and are under the immediate charge of Dr. Bryant, Medical Director of the Division of Gen. Shields.

About 230 sick and wounded prisoners have been sent to Frederick.  Sixty wounded rebel soldiers have been taken from the hospital and placed in the houses of their friends on their parole to report on their recovery to the nearest commanding officer.  Our wounded are reported as generally doing well.  They number about three hundred.

The statement in the newspapers that Major Perkins on the staff of Maj. Gen. Banks was instrumental in planning the battle, is contradicted, although his presence and advice were of great service to Col. Kimball who commands in the field under directions from Gen. Shields. – Medical Director King of the Medical Corps, and surgeon Jackson of the 29th Penn, who were present as volunteers rendered effective and in clearing the field of wounded.  Gustave Arnherm of the Zouaves acted as aid to col. Baum, chief of Shields’ artillery and was seriously wounded in the leg.

The following is a complete list of the casualties in the 5th Ohio: Killed – Privates Pleasant Brown, J. W. Richaus, Chas. Gill, Wm. H. Hagart, Henry Hall, Martin Holley, Henry Schpfer, Peter Hoper, Wm. B. Majors.  Corporals Chas. Talbot, J. B. Shannon, Samuel B. Isdell.  Captain Joel Whitcom.  Sergeant David Johnson.


WINCHESTER, March 31. – The report that the wounded in the late battle near Winchester were neglected, is unfounded.  Surgeon Keney medical inspector, U. S. A., reports that they are well quartered and well treated by the surgeons of the Division, and generally doing well.  Gen. Shields has so far recovered as to be able to start for Strasburgh to-morrow.  Some firing was heard by the officers in Strasburgh yesterday, apparently in the direction of Jackson’s rendezvous.  The cause is not yet known.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 5, 1862, p. 4