LIBRARY ,- 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Class 
 
 
RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 A PRIVATE SOLDIER 
 
 IN THE 
 
 ARMY OF THE POTOMAC 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK WILKESON 
 
 NEW YORK & LONDON 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM S SONS 
 
 1887 
 
COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 FRANK WILKESON 
 1886 
 
 Press of 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM S SONS 
 New York 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT . . . . . . i 
 
 IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION 21 
 
 MARCHING TO THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS . . 42 
 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS . . * -55 
 FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA ... . .81 
 THE FLANK MOVEMENT FROM SPOTTSYLVANIA TO THE 
 
 NORTH ANNA RIVER . . . . . . 97 
 
 STUDYING CONFEDERATE EARTHWORKS AT NORTH 
 
 ANNA no 
 
 THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR . . . . 124 
 
 FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG . . . .153 
 
 CONDITION OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC AFTER 
 
 PETERSBURG . . . ., - * . . . 179 
 
 How MEN DIE IN BATTLE . . ... . . 197 
 
 EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON . . . . 208 
 THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELMIRA ... . 220 
 
 IN THE SOUTHWEST . ... . , . .231 
 
 224131 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE history of the fighting to suppress the 
 slave-holders rebellion, thus far written, 
 has been the work of commanding generals. The 
 private soldiers who won the battles, when they 
 were given a chance to win them, and lost them 
 through the ignorance and incapacity of com 
 manders, have scarcely begun to write the history 
 from their point of view. The two will be found 
 to differ materially. The epauletted history has 
 been largely inspired by vanity or jealousy, sav 
 ing and excepting forever the immortal record, 
 Grant s dying gift to his countrymen, which is as 
 modest as it is truthful, and as just as it is modest. 
 Most of this war history has been written to 
 repair damaged or wholly ruined military repu 
 tations. It has been made additionally un 
 trustworthy by the jealousy which seeks to 
 belittle the work of others, or to falsify or ob 
 scure it, in order to render more conspicu 
 ous the achievements of the historians. The 
 men who carried the muskets, served the guns, 
 
vi RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 and rode in the saddle had no military reputa 
 tions to defend or create, and they brought not 
 out of the war professional jealousy of their 
 comrades. They and they alone can supple 
 ment the wonderful contribution made by Grant 
 to the history of the struggle to suppress the 
 rebellion. Who beside the enlisted men can tell 
 how the fierce Confederates looked and fought 
 behind their earthworks and in the open ; how 
 the heroic soldiers of the impoverished South 
 were clothed, armed, and fed ? Who beside our 
 enlisted men can or will tell their countrymen 
 how the volunteers who saved the republic 
 lived in camp ; lived in the field ; on the 
 march ; what they talked about ; how they 
 criticised the campaigns, and criticised their 
 officers and commanders ; how oft they hun 
 gered and thirsted ; how, through parts of cam 
 paigns, and through entire campaigns, they 
 slept unsheltered on the ground, and too often 
 in snow or mud ; how they fought (honor and 
 glory for ever and ever to these matchless war 
 riors ! ) and how they died ? 
 
 I was one of these private soldiers. As one 
 of them, I make this my contribution to the 
 true history of the war. And I call on those 
 of my comrades in the ranks who yet survive, 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 in whatever part of the country they served, to 
 make haste to leave behind them as their con 
 tributions, what they actually saw and did, and 
 what their commanders refused, or neglected or 
 failed to do. Very many of you were the equals, 
 and not a few of you were the superiors, of your 
 officers in intelligence, courage, and military 
 ability. Your judgment about the conduct of 
 the war, by reason of the vastness of your num 
 ber, will have the force of public opinion. That 
 is almost invariably right. The opinion of the 
 rank and file of an army of Americans will be 
 equally right. The grumbling of a single soldier 
 at a camp fire may be unreasonable and his 
 criticism abusive. The criticism of 100,000 
 American soldiers will be absolute truth. 
 
 I am conscious of imperfect performance of 
 the task I set to myself in the writing of this 
 book. In a later edition I hope to have the 
 opportunity to correct my short-coming. Mod 
 eration and forbearance of statement and 
 opinion have been my error. Occasionally I 
 ceased to write as a soldier in the ranks. Too 
 frequently I wrote as a generous narrator a 
 quarter of a century after the events. I ought 
 to have written from title-page to cover as if I 
 were still in the ranks. And the limited com- 
 
viii RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 pass of the book forbade the consideration of 
 two subjects about which I feel deeply, and 
 which I propose hereafter to treat with what 
 strength I possess. For much thinking over 
 my experience as a private in the Army of the 
 Potomac has confirmed me in the belief I then 
 entertained, that the two capital errors in the 
 conduct of the war on the Union side were ; 
 
 First. The calling for volunteers to suppress 
 the rebellion, instead of at the outset creating 
 armies by drawing soldiers ratably and by lot 
 from the able-bodied population, between the 
 ages of twenty and forty, of all the free States 
 and territories. 
 
 Second. The officering of the commands in 
 the various armies with West Point graduates 
 by preference, on the assumption that they 
 knew the art of war and were soldiers, and 
 were therefore the fittest to command soldiers. 
 
 It is my purpose in the future edition of this 
 book to show how the resort to volunteering 
 the unprincipled dodge of cowardly politicians, 
 ground up the choicest seed-corn of the nation ; 
 how it consumed the young, the patriotic, the 
 intelligent, the generous, the brave ; how it 
 wasted the best moral, social, and political ele 
 ments of the republic, leaving the cowards, 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 shirks, egotists, and money-makers to stay at 
 home and procreate their kind ; how the Lex 
 ingtons being away in the war, the production 
 of Lexington colts ceased. 
 
 Again, I carried out with me from the ranks, 
 not only the feeling, but the knowledge derived 
 from my own experience and from the current 
 history of the war, that the military salvation 
 of this country requires that the West Point 
 Academy be destroyed. Successful command 
 ers of armies are not made. Like great poets 
 they are born. Men like Caesar, Marlborough, 
 Napoleon, and Grant are not the products of 
 schools. They - occur sparingly in the course 
 of nature. West Point turns out shoulder- 
 strapped office-holders. It cannot produce 
 soldiers ; for these are, as I claim, born, and not 
 made. And it is susceptible of demonstration 
 that the almost ruinous delay in suppressing 
 the rebellion and restoring the Union ; the 
 deadly failure of campaigns year after year ; 
 the awful waste of the best soldiers the world 
 has seen ; and the piling up of the public debt 
 into the billions, was wholly due to West Point 
 influence and West Point commanders. They 
 were commanders, but they were not soldiers. 
 
 FRANK WILKESON. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 I. 
 
 FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 
 
 I WAS a private soldier in the war to sup 
 press the rebellion. I write of the life of 
 a private soldier. I gloss over nothing. The 
 enlisted men, of whom I was one, composed 
 the army. We won or lost the battles. I tell 
 how we lived, how we fought, what we talked 
 of o nights, of our aspirations and fears. I do 
 not claim to have seen all of Grant s last cam 
 paign ; but what I saw I faithfully record. 
 
 The war fever seized me in 1863. All the 
 summer and fall I had fretted and burned to 
 be off. That winter, and before I was sixteen 
 years old, I ran away from my father s high- 
 lying Hudson River valley farm. I went to 
 Albany and enlisted in the Eleventh New York 
 Battery, then at the front in Virginia, and was 
 
2 RECOLLECT.TQHS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 promptly sent out to the penitentiary building. 
 There, to my utter astonishment, I found eight 
 hundred or one thousand ruffians, closely 
 guarded by heavy lines of sentinels, who 
 paced to and fro, day and night, rifle in hand, 
 to keep them from running away. When I 
 entered the barracks these recruits gathered 
 around me and asked, " How much bounty 
 did you get ? " " How many times have you 
 jumped the bounty?" I answered that I had 
 not bargained for any bounty, that I had never 
 jumped a bounty, and that I had enlisted to go 
 to the front and fight. I was instantly assailed 
 with abuse. Irreclaimable blackguards, thieves, 
 and ruffians gathered in a boisterous circle 
 around me and called me foul names. I was 
 robbed while in these barracks of all I pos 
 sessed a pipe, a piece of tobacco and a knife. 
 I remained in this nasty prison for a month. I 
 became thoroughly acquainted with my com 
 rades. A recruit s social standing in the bar 
 racks was determined by the acts of villany he 
 had performed, supplemented by the number 
 of times he had jumped the bounty. The so 
 cial standing of a hard-faced, crafty pickpocket, 
 who had jumped the bounty in say half a dozen 
 cities, was assured. He shamelessly boasted of 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 3 
 
 his rascally agility. Less active bounty-jump 
 ers looked up to him as to a leader. He com 
 manded their profound respect. When he 
 talked, men gathered around him in crowds 
 and listened attentively to words of wisdom 
 concerning bounty-jumping that dropped from 
 his tobacco-stained lips. His right to occupy 
 the most desirable bunk, or to stand at the head 
 of the column when we prepared to march to 
 the kitchen for our rations, was undisputed. If 
 there was a man in all that shameless crew who 
 had enlisted from patriotic motives, I did not 
 see him. There was not a man of them who 
 was not eager to run away. Not a man who 
 did not quake when he thought of the front. 
 Almost to a man they were bullies and cow 
 ards, and almost to a man they belonged to 
 the criminal classes. 
 
 I had been in this den of murderers and 
 thieves for a week, when my uncle William 
 Wilkeson of Buffalo found me. My absence 
 from the farm had caused a search of the New 
 York barracks to be made for me. My uncle, 
 finding that I was resolute in my intention to 
 go to the front, and that I would not accept a 
 discharge, boy as I was, did the best thing he 
 could for me, and that was to vouch for me to 
 
4 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 the major, named Van Rensselaer, I think, who 
 was in charge of the barracks. He knew my 
 family, and when he heard that I had run away 
 from home to enlist, and that I would not 
 accept a discharge, he gave me the freedom of 
 the city. I had a pass which I left in charge of 
 the officer of the guard when not using it, be 
 cause I was afraid I would be robbed of it if I 
 took it into the barracks. The fact of my 
 having a pass became known to the bounty- 
 jumpers, and I was repeatedly offered large 
 sums of money for it. In the room in which I 
 slept, a gang of roughs made up a pot of $1,700, 
 counting out the money before me, and offered 
 it to me if I would go out and at night put my 
 pass in a crack between two designated boards 
 that formed a portion of a high fence that sur 
 rounded the penitentiary grounds. I refused 
 to enter into the scheme, and they attacked 
 me savagely, and would have beaten me, per 
 haps to death, if the guards, hearing the noise, 
 had not rushed in. Of course they swore that 
 I had madly assaulted them with a heavy bed 
 slat, and, of course, I was punished, and, equally 
 of course, I kept my mouth shut as to the real 
 cause of the row, for fear that I would be mur 
 dered as I slept if I exposed them. In front of 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 5 
 
 the barracks stood a high wooden horse, made 
 by sticking four long poles into large holes 
 bored into a smooth log, and then standing it 
 upright. Two ladders, one at each end, led up 
 to the round body of the wooden steed. A 
 placard, on which was printed in letters four 
 inches long the word " Fighting," was fastened 
 on my back. Then I was led to the rear ladder 
 and told to mount the horse and to shin along 
 to the other end, and to sit there until I was 
 released. The sentinel tapped his rifle signifi 
 cantly, and said, earnestly : " It is loaded. If 
 you dismount before you are ordered to, I shall 
 kill you." I believed he meant what he said, 
 and I did not get off till ordered to dismount. 
 For the first hour I rather enjoyed the ride ; 
 then my legs grew heavy, my knees pained 
 dreadfully, and I grew feverish and was very 
 thirsty. Other men came out of the barracks 
 and climbed aloft to join in the pleasure of 
 wooden horseback riding. They laughed at 
 first, but soon began to swear in low tones, and 
 to curse the days on which they were born. In 
 the course of three hours the log filled up, and 
 I dismounted to make room for a fresh offender. 
 The placard was taken from my back, and I 
 was gruffly ordered to " get out of this." I 
 
6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 staggered back a few yards, stooped to rub my 
 lame knees, and looked at the gang who were 
 sadly riding the wooden horse. Various words 
 were printed on the cards that were fastened to 
 their backs, but more than half of them an- 
 nounced that the bearers were thieves. 
 
 On my urgent solicitation Major Van Rens- 
 selaer promised to ship me with the first de 
 tachment of recruits going to the front. One 
 cold afternoon, directly after the ice had gone 
 out of the Hudson River, we were ordered out 
 of the barracks. We were formed into ranks, 
 and stood in a long, curved line 1,000 rascals 
 strong. We were counted, as was the daily 
 custom, to see if any of the patriots had 
 escaped. Then, after telling us to step four 
 paces to the front as our names were called, 
 the names of the men who were to form the 
 detachment were shouted by a sergeant, and 
 we stepped to the front, one after another, un 
 til 600 of us stood in ranks. We were marched 
 to the barracks, and told to pack our knapsacks 
 as we were to march at once. The 400 recruits 
 who had not been selected were carefully 
 guarded on the ground, so as to prevent their 
 mingling with us. If that had happened, some 
 of the recruits who had been chosen would 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. *J 
 
 have failed to appear at the proper time. The 
 idea was that if we were kept separate, all the 
 men in the barracks, all outside of the men 
 grouped under guard, would have to go. Be 
 fore I left the barracks I saw the guards roughly 
 haul straw-littered, dust-coated men out of mat- 
 resses, which they had cut open and crawled 
 into to hide. Other men were jerked out of 
 the water-closets. Still others were drawn by 
 the feet from beneath bunks. One man, who 
 had burrowed into the contents of a water-tight 
 swill-box, which stood in the hall and into 
 which we threw our waste food and coffee slops, 
 was fished out, covered with coffee grounds and 
 bits of bread and shreds of meat, and kicked 
 down stairs and out of the building. Ever after 
 I thought of that soldier as the hero of the 
 swill-tub. Cuffed, prodded with bayonets, and 
 heartily cursed, we fell into line in front of the 
 barracks. An officer stepped in front of us and 
 said in a loud voice that any man who at 
 tempted to escape would be shot: A double 
 line of guards quickly took their proper posi 
 tions around us. We were faced to the right 
 and marched through a room, where the men 
 were paid their bounties. Some men received 
 $500, others less ; but I heard of no man who 
 
8 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 received less than $400. I got nothing. As 
 the men passed through the room they were 
 formed into column by fours. When all the 
 recruits had been paid, and the column formed, 
 we started to march into Albany, guarded by a 
 double line of sentinels. Long before we ar 
 rived at State Street three recruits attempted 
 to escape. They dropped their knapsacks and 
 fled wildly. Crack ! crack ! crack ! a dozen 
 rifles rang out, and what had been three men 
 swiftly running were three bloody corpses. The 
 dead patriots lay by the roadside as we marched 
 by. We marched down State Street, turned to 
 the right at Broadway, and marched down that 
 street to the steamboat landing. Previous to 
 my enlistment I had imagined that the popu 
 lation of Albany would line the sidewalks to 
 see the defenders of the nation march proudly 
 by, bound for the front, and that we would be 
 cheered, and would unbend sufficiently to ac 
 cept floral offerings from beautiful maidens. 
 How was it ? No exultant cheers arose from 
 the column. The people who saw us did not 
 cheer. The faces of the recruits plainly ex 
 pressed the profound disgust they felt at the 
 disastrous outcome of what had promised to be 
 a remunerative financial enterprise. Small boys 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 9 
 
 derided us. Mud balls were thrown at us. 
 One small lad, who was greatly excited by the 
 unwonted spectacle, rushed to a street corner, 
 and after placing his hands to his mouth, yelled 
 to a distant and loved comrade: " Hi, Johnnie, 
 come see de bounty - jumpers !" He was 
 promptly joined by an exasperating, red-headed, 
 sharp-tongued little wretch, whom I desired to 
 destroy long before we arrived at the steam 
 boat landing. Men and -women openly laughed 
 at us. Fingers, indicative of derision, were 
 pointed at us. Yes, a large portion of the 
 populace of Albany gathered together to see 
 us ; but they were mostly young males, called 
 guttersnipes. They jeered us, and were ex 
 ceedingly loth to leave us. It was as though 
 the congress of American wonders were parad 
 ing in the streets preparatory to aerial flights 
 under tented canvas. 
 
 Once on the steamboat, we were herded on 
 the lower deck, where freight is usually carried, 
 like cattle. No one dared to take off his knap 
 sack for fear it would be stolen. Armed sen 
 tinels stood at the openings in the vessel s sides 
 out of which gangplanks were thrust. Others 
 were stationed in the bows ; others in the dark 
 narrow passage-ways where the shaft turns ; 
 
10 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 still others were on the decks. We were hemmed 
 in by a wall of glistening steel. " Stand back, 
 stand back, damn you ! " was the only remark 
 the alert-eyed, stern-faced sentinels uttered, and 
 the necessity of obeying that command was 
 impressed on us by menacing bayonets. 
 Whiskey, guard-eluding whiskey, got in. Bot 
 tles, flasks, canteens, full of whiskey, circulated 
 freely among us, and many men got drunk. 
 There was an orgie on the North River steamer 
 that night, but comparatively a decent one. In 
 spite of the almost certain death sure to ensue 
 if a man attempted to escape, two men jumped 
 overboard. I saw one of these take off his 
 knapsack, loosen his overcoat and then sit down 
 on his knapsack. He drew a whiskey flask from 
 an inner pocket and repeatedly stimulated his 
 courage. He watched the guards who stood by 
 the opening in the vessel s side intently. At 
 last they turned their heads for an instant. The 
 man sprang to his feet, dropped his overcoat 
 and ran to the opening and jumped far out into 
 the cold waters of the river. Instantly the 
 guards began to fire. Above us, in front of us, 
 at our sides, behind us, wherever guards were 
 stationed, there rifles cracked. But it was ex 
 ceeding dark on the water, and I believe that 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. II 
 
 the deserter escaped safely. Early in the morn 
 ing, before it was light, I again heard firing. I 
 was told that another recuit had jumped over 
 board and had been killed. 
 
 In this steamboat were two mysterious men 
 clad in soldiers clothing, whom I had not seen 
 until after we left Albany. Their appearance 
 was so striking, they were so alert and quick- 
 eyed, so out of place among us, that my atten 
 tion was attracted to them. One of these men 
 was an active, trim built, dark-eyed, black- 
 haired, handsome fellow of 25 years. The other 
 was a stocky, red-faced blonde of about 30. 
 They moved quickly among the recruits. They 
 made pleasant, cheerful remarks to almost every 
 man on the steamboat. They told stories 
 which were greatly enjoyed by the recruits who 
 heard them. " Where did those two men join 
 us ? Where did they come from, and who are 
 they ?" were questions I musingly asked my 
 self over and over and over again, as I sat on 
 my knapsack in a corner. Finally I walked to 
 a guard and asked who they were. He eyed me 
 suspiciously for an instant, and then furiously 
 answered : " Stand back, you bounty-jumping 
 cur ! " and he lunged at me with his bayonet as 
 though to thrust me through. I stood back, 
 
12 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE 
 
 and then I sat down on my knapsack in a cor 
 ner and wondered musingly if I were a patriot 
 or simply a young fool. 
 
 Morning came, and we disembarked in New 
 York, and were marched, still heavily guarded, 
 to the low, white barracks, which then stood 
 where the post-office now stands. There we 
 were securely penned and decently fed. The 
 men fretted and fumed, and burned to escape. 
 Many of them had previously jumped bounties 
 in New York. They knew the slums of the 
 city. They knew where to hide in safety. 
 Dozens of them said that if they could get out 
 of the barracks they would be safe. But they 
 could not get out. This time they were going 
 to the front. The officers and men, in whose 
 charge we were, were resolute in their intention 
 to deliver one consignment of bounty-jumpers 
 to the commands they belonged to. That 
 afternoon five days cooked rations were issued 
 to us, and we were escorted by a heavy double 
 line of guards down Broadway to the Battery. 
 There we turned to march along a street that 
 led to a dock where an ocean steamer lay. The 
 head of the column was opposite the dock, when 
 four recruits shed their knapsacks and ran for 
 the freedom they coveted. One of these men 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 13 
 
 marched two files in front of me. He dashed 
 past the guard, who walked by my side, at the 
 top of his speed. Not a word was said to him. 
 The column halted at command. The guard 
 near me turned on his heels quickly, threw his 
 heavy rifle to his shoulder, covered the running 
 man, and shot him dead. Two of the remain 
 ing three fell dead as other rifles cracked. The 
 fourth man ran through the shower of balls 
 safely. I thought he was going to escape ; but 
 a tall, lithe officer ran after him, pistol in hand. 
 He overtook the fugitive just as he was about 
 to turn a street corner. He made no attempt 
 to arrest the deserter, but placed his pistol to 
 the back of the runaway s head and blew his 
 brains out as he ran. The dead man fell in a 
 pile at the base of a lamp-post. That ended 
 all attempts to escape. We marched on board 
 the steamer, a propeller, and descended narrow 
 stairs to between decks, where the light was 
 dim and the air heavy with a smell as of damp 
 sea-weed. There were three large hatches, 
 freight hatches probably, in the deck above us, 
 through which the heavy, cold, outside air sank, 
 and through which three systems of draughty, 
 sneeze-provoking ventilation were established 
 as soon as the air in the hold became heated. 
 
14 RECOLLECTION S OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Tobacco smoke arose from hundreds of pipes 
 and cheap cigars, and the air grew hazy. At 
 short distances the forms of men were indis 
 tinct and phantom-like. In this space were 
 about 600 men. False history and dishonest 
 Congressmen who desire to secure re-election 
 by gifts of public money and property to voters, 
 say they were brave Northern youth going to 
 the defence of their country. I, who know, 
 say they were as arrant a gang of cowards, 
 thieves, murderers, and blacklegs as were ever 
 gathered inside the Avails of Newgate or Sing 
 Sing. 
 
 Money was plentiful and whiskey entered 
 through the steamer s ports, and the guards 
 drove a profitable business in selling canteens 
 full of whiskey at $5 each. Promptly the hold 
 was transformed into a floating hell. The air 
 grew denser and denser with tobacco smoke. 
 Drunken men staggered to and fro. They 
 yelled and sung and danced, and then they 
 fought and fought again. Rings were formed, 
 and within them men pounded each other 
 fiercely. They rolled on the slimy floor and 
 howled and swore and bit and gouged, and the 
 delighted spectators cheered them to redouble 
 their efforts. Out of these fights others sprang 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 15 
 
 into life, and from these still others. The noise 
 was horrible. The wharf became crowded with 
 men eager to know what was going on in the 
 vessel. A tug was sent for, and we were towed 
 into the river, and there the anchors were 
 dropped. Guards ran in on us and beat men 
 with clubbed rifles, and were in turn attacked. 
 We drove them out of the hold. The hatch at the 
 head of the stairs was closed and locked. The 
 recruits were maddened with whiskey. Dozens 
 of men ran a muck, striking every one they came 
 to, and being struck and kicked and stamped 
 on in return. The ventilation hatches were 
 surrounded by steirufaced sentinels, who gazed 
 into the gloom below and warned us not to try 
 to get out by climbing through the hatches. 
 Men sprang high in the air and clutched the 
 hatch railings, and had their hands smashed 
 with musket butts. Sentinels paced to and 
 fro along the vessel s deck, and called loudly to 
 all row-boats to keep off or they would be fired 
 upon. They did not intend that any fresh sup 
 plies of whiskey should be brought to us. The 
 prisoners in this floating hell were then told to 
 " go it," and they went it. We had been 
 searched for arms before we entered the bar 
 racks at Albany. The more decent and quiet 
 
1 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 of us had no means of killing the drunken 
 brutes who pressed on us. There was not a 
 club or a knife or an iron bolt that we could 
 lay our hands to. I fought, and got licked ; 
 fought again, and won ; and for the third time 
 faced my man, and got knocked stiff in two 
 seconds. It was a scene to make a devil howl 
 with delight. The light grew dimmer and dim 
 mer, and then the interior of the hold was 
 dark, except such portions as were dimly lighted 
 by the bars of light that shot through the 
 ports and that which was reflected down the 
 hatches in square columns. We fought and 
 howled and swore with rage and pain. Through 
 it all the smell was overpowering. The deadly, 
 penetrating odors of ulcerous men, who suf 
 fered from unnamable diseases, of stale tobacco- 
 smoke, the sickening fumes of dead whiskey, 
 and the smell of many unclean ruffians made 
 the air heavy with a horrible stench. Many 
 recruits lost their bounty money. They were 
 robbed and beaten almost to death. Exhaus 
 tion quieted the devils down during the night, 
 and then we slept on the filthy floor. There 
 was not a bunk in the entire hold. The next 
 morning we awoke with sore heads and faint 
 stomachs, and, under orders, washed out the 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. I/ 
 
 vast room as well as we could. We remained 
 in New York harbor for two days, waiting for 
 the officer who had killed the runaway to be 
 tried and acquitted. During the delay the 
 guards refused to allow a row-boat to come near 
 us. Then we started for Alexandria, in Vir 
 ginia. 
 
 Shortly after we had begun to steam for the 
 sea I saw the two alert-eyed recruits, who had 
 attracted my attention when we were on the 
 Hudson River steamboat, in the hold with us. 
 I am positive that they were not with us while 
 we lay in New York harbor. They walked 
 among us for a couple of hours, talking pleas 
 antly. The yoanger of the twain inquired 
 kindly as to how I got my face pounded, and 
 he got me a bowl of clean water to bathe it in. 
 Toward noon they produced chuck-luck cloths 
 and dice boxes, and furious gambling began. 
 I was the only man on board who was not 
 bounty paid or laden. I had but $10, which 
 my father had given to me when I was in the 
 New York barracks, so I could not join in the 
 sport. I have seen gambling and wild, reck 
 less gambling too in many mining camps, and 
 in towns where Texas cattle were sold, and in 
 new railroad towns beyond the Missouri ; but 
 
1 8 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 never since the war closed have I seen such 
 reckless gambling as went on day and night in 
 this vessel. Men crowded around the brace 
 games, and speedily lost their bounties. Then 
 the losers would boldly, in broad daylight, rob 
 their comrades. I saw gangs of robbers knock 
 men down and go through their pockets, and 
 unbuckle money belts from their waists ; and if 
 they protested, their cries were silenced with 
 boot heels stamped into their faces. 
 
 By the time this floating hell and its cargo of 
 cowardly devils had got into Chesapeake Bay, 
 the two alert-eyed gamblers possessed about all 
 the money the six hundred recruits had. Then 
 they grew fearful of the men they had robbed, 
 and hired some of the soldiers to guard them. 
 I saw two soldiers paid $100 each for guarding 
 them while they slept. Unguarded, they would 
 have been killed and torn limb from limb. At 
 Alexandria we, dirty and smelling so vilely that 
 the street dogs refused to approach us, were 
 marched to clean barracks and well fed. That 
 evening I paid a soldier $5 to stand over a bath 
 tub and watch me while I bathed. I had to go 
 outside of the barracks to bathe. The next 
 morning the two alert-eyed gamblers were miss 
 ing. I never saw them again. I knew that 
 
FROM BARRACKS TO FRONT. 19 
 
 they were not recruits, but gamblers in league 
 with high officials gamblers carefully selected 
 for their professional skill and pleasing address, 
 and that they had been sent on the sea-voyage 
 to rob the bounty-laden recruits. The trip had 
 been exceedingly profitable. At the lowest 
 calculation there had been $240,000 in the re 
 cruits pockets when they left New York. I do 
 not believe the same pockets contained $70,000 
 when we arrived at Alexandria. 
 
 After breakfast we were counted, and the 
 men of each regiment separated into groups 
 and told to keep together. We were then 
 marched under guard to a train of box-cars, and 
 loaded into them much as cattle are. The in 
 terior of the car filled, the recruits were piled 
 on top. At each of the side doors of the cars 
 stood two armed sentinels. Two more sat on 
 top outside at each end of the car. In the end 
 car of the train were a couple of officers and 
 fifteen or twenty privates. On the tender of 
 the locomotive were more guards. We were 
 solemnly told by an officer that any man who 
 got off the car without permission would be 
 shot dead. Five men did not believe this 
 statement, or they may have been so greatly 
 appalled by the prospect of meeting Lee s sol 
 diers, that they resolved to attempt to escape. 
 
20 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Be that as it may, five men jumped from the 
 train while it was in motion, and were instantly 
 killed by the guards. The train was stopped 
 and their corpses were thrown into the rear car. 
 The men in the car I was in were ordered off 
 at Brandy Station. We fell into line and were 
 counted, and then turned over to other guards, 
 whose officer receipted for us. We faced into 
 column and marched from camp to camp, and 
 at each camp some recruits were counted out 
 as if they were sheep, and receipted for. Du 
 ring this march of distribution I learned where 
 many regiments were camped, and I often vis 
 ited them before the campaign opened. 
 
 I rather enjoyed the afternoon. My knap 
 sack was light (some patriot had stolen its con 
 tents while I slept on the steamer), the walking 
 was good, the air was pure and sweet, the scene 
 was novel and interesting ; and, above all, the 
 propeller was at Alexandria. About 9 o clock 
 the last guard and I, now in friendly conversa 
 tion about the trip from Albany to the front, 
 arrived at the camp of the Eleventh New York 
 Battery, and I was receipted for. The next 
 morning I drew a full outfit of clothing and 
 burned the befouled garments I had worn on 
 the " Floating Heaven of American Patriots," 
 as I named the propeller. 
 
II. 
 
 IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 
 
 DURING the winter of 1863-64 the Army 
 of the Potomac was camped in Vir 
 ginia north of the Rapidan River. A large 
 portion of it was at Brandy Station. The en 
 listed men were comfortably housed in canvas- 
 covered log huts. There was a large fireplace 
 in each hut, and wood was abundant and to be 
 had for the cutting. The old oak forests of 
 Virginia, whose owners were gathered in ranks 
 under Lee to oppose us, suffered that winter. 
 When the weather was fit the soldiers were 
 drilled, and drilled, and drilled again. We 
 were v/ell fed, having plenty of bread, fresh 
 beef, salted pork, beans, rice, sugar, and coffee. 
 In front of the ground on which the battery 
 I belonged to was camped, was a large plain. 
 On it several regiments, in heavy marching or 
 der, were drilled every pleasant day. Instead 
 of practising the men in the simple flank and 
 
22 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 line movements used in battle, or at targets, or 
 in estimating distances, they were marched to 
 and fro and made to perform displayful evolu 
 tions, which conveyed the impression to the 
 spectators that thousands of Knights Templar 
 were moving in competitive drill for a valuable, 
 and, maybe, sacred prize. In the artillery ser 
 vice the drill was still more absurd. Teams 
 were hitched to the guns almost daily, and they 
 were whirled over comparatively dry ground in 
 a highly bewildering but exceedingly useless 
 manner. Every enlisted man in the army knew 
 that we were to fight in a rugged, wooded 
 country where the clearings were surrounded 
 by heavy forests, and where deep shrub and 
 timber-clad ravines hazed the air, and where 
 practice and practice and still more practice in 
 estimating distances was required, if we were to 
 fire accurately and effectively. Did the artil 
 lery officers zealously practise us in estimating 
 distance ? Never, to my knowledge. They 
 taught us how to change front to the right, to 
 the rear, and on the several pieces that formed 
 the battery, which knowledge was of as much 
 practical use to us as if we had been assidu 
 ously drilled to walk on stilts or to play on the 
 banjo. Never, while I was in the artillery 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 23 
 
 camp, did I see the guns unlimber for target 
 practice. The dismounted, or gun drill, was 
 useful ; but this, too, was loaded down with 
 memory-clogging detail. 
 
 One night, one of the gunners named Jellet 
 and I sat late by the hut fireplace after an af 
 ternoon s hard work at the guns, and I, young 
 in years and service, humbly suggested that I 
 thought that much of the drill we were being 
 taught was absurd and useless, and that there 
 was not time before the spring campaign opened 
 to teach the new recruits the entire light-artil 
 lery drill. Soberly, the corporal who had sighted 
 the gun I served on through many battles, laid 
 his hand on my shoulder and said impress 
 ively : 
 
 " My lad, you are just beginning to discover 
 the artillery humbug. You serve in what 
 should be the most efficient arm of the service; 
 an arm where men and horses and guns should 
 be wasted as water, where tons of ammunition 
 should be expended in target practice, because 
 if a gunner cannot hit the object he fires at he 
 had better not fire at all, as to miss excites the 
 contempt of the enemy. I have served for two 
 years in this army," he added, after an instant s 
 pause, " and there is not a general officer in it 
 
24 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 who understands how to use artillery, not one." 
 Here the corporal swore roundly, and then he 
 added, prophetically, as he solemnly nodded 
 his head : " Wait until you get into the field 
 and your heart will be broken." Then he went 
 to bed leaving me by the fire, where I sat and 
 toasted myself until I heard a guard approach 
 ing the tent, then I turned in in full dress and 
 was ^sleeping soundly when the guard inquired 
 why we had a light after taps. 
 
 How tired I got of camp, and drill, and 
 guard duty ! And how tired I got of the rain 
 and mud! A large portion of the battery men 
 were religious. Almost nightly these men held 
 a prayer-meeting. Next to us, on the right, a 
 battery manned by Irishmen was parked, and 
 almost nightly they indulged in a fist fight. 
 Once in a while they evinced a desire to fight 
 with us, and at long intervals some of the un- 
 regenerated men of our battery gratified them 
 and got whipped. Still farther to the right a 
 battery of the Fourth United States Artillery 
 was parked. The men of that command were 
 either Irish or Irish-Americans, and they were 
 keen to gratify the desire of volunteer Irish, or 
 any other volunteers, to indulge in personal 
 combat. To our left a full regiment of Ger- 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 2$ 
 
 mans, heavy-artillery men, were camped. Be 
 tween them and the regular army artillerymen 
 a bloody feud existed. Many and many a Ger 
 man was savagely beaten by the Irishmen. 
 This regiment of Germans interested me great 
 ly. In their camp I first saw lager beer. I 
 bought a glass of it, but finding it a weak, sloppy 
 drink, I left the almost full glass on the coun 
 ter. So strong an impression did this first 
 drink of lager make on me, that I never see the 
 foamy, amber-colored liquor that the sutler s 
 tent, standing on a muddy plain, and surround 
 ed by stout, blue-coated Germans, does not arise 
 before me. These Germans had a vast amount 
 of personal property. They had recently ar 
 rived from the fortifications near Washington, 
 and had brought their accumulated wealth 
 with them. All of the enlisted men had one 
 knapsack, and many of them had two, and 
 there was a plenty of musical instruments in 
 their camp. I used to look into my lean knap 
 sack after a visit to the Germans, and wish it 
 would bulge with fatness as theirs did. This 
 regiment of Germans made more noise in their 
 camp than two brigades of Americans would or 
 could have done. 
 
 One day I was walking near the camp of Bat- 
 
26 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 tery A, Fourth United States Artillery. Some 
 of the men of that command were drunk, and 
 among them was a line sergeant, a sturdy, blue- 
 eyed, black-haired Scotchman. He was wildly 
 drunk, but not staggering. He had full control 
 of himself physically, but mentally he was a 
 madman. He cursed loudly, and swaggered 
 with vehement gesticulation around the camp. 
 I saw a door of a tent thrown open and a hand 
 some young officer stepped out. He was neat, 
 erect, quick-stepping, and sharp-voiced. 
 
 " Sergeant of the guard ! " he called loudly. 
 
 A sergeant stepped up and saluted. 
 
 " Put a gag in Sergeant Stewart s mouth, and 
 then tie him on a spare wheel and give it a 
 quarter turn ! " the sharp-voiced officer said 
 loudly. 
 
 The sergeant of the guard saluted again and 
 turned to obey. Stewart heard the order, and 
 turned without saluting and ran at the top 
 of his speed to a large tree that stood a few 
 hundred yards off on the plain. When he 
 reached the tree he nimbly swung himself up 
 ward into its lower limbs, and speedily climbed 
 to the top. Once there, he drew a heavy re 
 volver and promptly opened fire on the sergeant 
 of the guard and his detachment. He checked 
 
IN CAMP A T BRAND Y STA TION. 2? 
 
 the pursuit. Then he howled and swore, and 
 amused himself by shooting at strange horse-, 
 men who happened to come within range. The 
 quick-stepping, alert-eyed officer came to us 
 and asked the cause of the delay in catching 
 Stewart. On being answered, he walked toward 
 the tree. Stewart emptied his revolver at 
 him and missed him. He grasped the useless 
 weapon by the barrel and waited until he got a 
 fair chance, and then launched it at his offi 
 cer, who stepped aside to avoid it. He walked 
 under the tree. 
 
 " Sergeant Stewart, come down ! " he com 
 manded. 
 
 " To be tied on the wheel?" Stewart in 
 quired. 
 
 " Yes ; to be gagged and tied on the wheel," 
 the officer replied. 
 
 " Then I 11 not come down," the sergeant 
 resolutely said. 
 
 The officer drew his revolver, covered Stewart 
 with it, and said sternly : 
 
 " Come down, or I will kill you." 
 
 " I 11 not come down," said Stewart. You 
 can kill me, but you cannot tie me up." And 
 Stewart glared savagely at the officer and 
 whooped exultantly. 
 
28 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 The rage of the officer was intense. He 
 lowered his revolver and swore that he would 
 tie him on a wheel, and that he would not 
 gratify him by killing him. 
 
 " Go to the battery wagon and bring some 
 axes here," he said sharply to a corporal. The 
 axes were brought and two men began to chop 
 the tree down. Sergeant Stewart did not fancy 
 the prospect of riding on an oak tree as it swung 
 through the air and crashed on the earth. He 
 began to parley. Would his officer kindly shoot 
 him if he came down ? No, he would not. 
 Would he not order his head to be cut off? 
 No, he would not. Stewart descended limb by 
 limb, and at every limb he tried to have the 
 disgraceful sentence mitigated to death. His 
 officer was obdurate. He was resolute in his 
 intention to gag him and tie him on a wheel. 
 Stewart finally sat on a lower limb. Any of 
 the men could have taken him by the legs and 
 pulled him down. He wanted that done. That 
 would have been capture, not surrender. He 
 was not gratified. He had to climb down. 
 Then he was marched to a spare wheel and 
 strapped on it, previously having a heavy gag 
 thrust crossways into his mouth and bound 
 firmly in its position. I was amazed that 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 29 
 
 Stewart had not been shot. I talked to the 
 men and they told me that he was the best 
 sergeant in the battery, a marvellous shot with 
 a Napoleon gun and that his getting drunk 
 was an accident. 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed a gray-haired private who 
 had three service stripes on his coat sleeve," he 
 will be court-martialled and get three years at 
 the Dry Tortugas. Before the sentence is re 
 ceived here, the battery will be in the field and 
 Stewart at his gun. The officers will not pub 
 lish the order, but will hold it over him. If he 
 again gets drunk or becomes insubordinate, 
 then he will catch it." 
 
 When I left the camp of the regulars Stewart 
 was hanging on the wheel and the men were 
 drilling at the guns, and no one was paying a 
 particle of attention to Stewart s inarticulate 
 cries and acute suffering. Here I will say that 
 the prediction made by the private whose coat 
 sleeves were covered with service stripes came 
 true. After I was promoted into the regular 
 army I served with Battery A, Fourth Artillery, 
 and Sergeant Stewart was then a line sergeant. 
 He got drunk and attacked an officer with a 
 tent pole, and the old sentence of the court 
 which tried him at Brandy Station was put into 
 
30 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 execution. He was sent to the Dry Tortugas 
 for three years. 
 
 The discipline throughout the Army of the 
 Potomac during the winter of 1863-64 was 
 necessarily severe. The ranks of the original 
 volunteers, the men who sprang to arms at the 
 tap of the northern war-drum, had been shot to 
 pieces. Entire platoons had disappeared. Regi 
 ments that had entered the great camps of in 
 struction formed around Washington in 1861- 
 62 a thousand men strong, had melted before the 
 heat of Confederate battle-fire till they num 
 bered three hundred, two hundred, and as low 
 as one hundred and fifty men. During the win 
 ter of 1863-64 these regiments were being filled 
 with bounty-jumpers, and these men had to be 
 severely disciplined, and that entailed punish 
 ment. There was no longer the friendly feel 
 ing of cordial comradeship between the enlisted 
 men and their officers, which was one of the 
 distinguishing characteristics of the volunteer 
 troops. The whole army was rapidly assuming 
 the character and bearing of regular troops, and 
 that means mercenaries. The lines drawn be 
 tween the recruits of 1863-64 and their officers 
 were well marked, and they were rigid. The 
 officers were resolute in their intention to make 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 31 
 
 the recruits feel the difference in their rank. 
 Breaches of army discipline were promptly and 
 severely punished. There is an unwritten mil 
 itary axiom which says that frequent courts- 
 martial convened to try enlisted men for petty 
 offences, sharply indicate that the regimental 
 officers are inefficient. There was no complaint 
 on this score in the Army of the Potomac in 
 1863-64. There was no necessity for punish 
 ing the volunteers. They were men of high 
 intelligence. They could be reasoned with. 
 They could and did see the necessity of soldier 
 like and decent behavior in their camps. They 
 cheerfully obeyed orders, because they realized 
 the necessity of obedience. But with large 
 bounties came a different class of recruits, the 
 bounty-jumpers. These men had to be heart 
 lessly moulded into soldiers. And, while it is 
 true that the apparently brutal methods em 
 ployed to check the insolent tongues and to 
 curb the insubordinate spirits of these men did 
 succeed in creating the outward semblance of 
 soldiers, it is also true that no earthly power 
 could change the character of their hearts ; and 
 they were essentially cowardly. The bounty- 
 jumpers would cheerfully engage in savage 
 rows ; they would fight fiercely with their fists, 
 
32 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 but they could not and did not stand battle-fire 
 stanchly. 
 
 The punishments inflicted on the enlisted 
 men were various, and some of them were hor 
 ribly brutal and needlessly severe ; but they 
 apparently served their purpose, and the times 
 were cruel, and men had been hardened to bear 
 the suffering of other men without wincing. 
 One punishment much affected in the light 
 artillery was called " tying on the spare 
 wheel." Springing upward and rearward from 
 the centre rail of every caisson was a fifth axle, 
 and on it was a spare wheel. A soldier who 
 had been insubordinate was taken to the spare 
 wheel and forced to step upon it. His legs 
 were drawn apart until they spanned three 
 spokes. His arms were stretched until there 
 were three or four spokes between his hands. 
 Then feet and hands were firmly bound to the 
 felloes of the wheel. If the soldier was to be 
 punished moderately he was left, bound in an 
 upright position on the wheel for five or six 
 hours. If the punishment was to be severe, the 
 ponderous wheel was given a quarter turn after 
 the soldier had been lashed to it, which changed 
 the position of the man being punished from 
 an upright to a horizontal one. Then the pris- 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 33 
 
 oner had to exert all his strength to keep his 
 weight from pulling heavily and cuttingly on 
 the cords that bound his upper arm and leg to 
 the wheel. I have frequently seen men faint 
 while undergoing this punishment, and I have 
 known men to endure it for hours without a 
 murmur, but with white faces, and set jaws and 
 blazing eyes. To cry out, to beg for mercy, to 
 protest, ensured additional discomfort in the 
 shape of a gag, a rough stick, being tied into 
 the suffering man s mouth. Tying on the spare 
 wheel was the usual punishment in the artillery 
 service for rather serious offences ; and no man 
 wanted to be tied up but once. 
 
 There was another punishment which was 
 much more severe than the spare wheel, and 
 which, because it was apt to cripple the men 
 physically, was very rarely employed. This 
 was known as " tying on the rack." Back of 
 every battery wagon is a heavy, strong rack, on 
 which forage is carried. It stands out about 
 two feet behind the wheels. Its edge is not 
 over an inch thick. The soldier who was to 
 suffer the tortures of the rack was led to it. 
 His hands were dragged forward as far as they 
 could be without lifting his feet from the 
 Around, and there they were bound to the 
 
34 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 felloes of the wheel. Then one foot was lifted 
 and bound to the felloe of one wheel, then the 
 other foot was bound to the felloe of the other 
 wheel. The whole weight of the soldier was 
 thrown on his chest, which bore heavily against 
 the sharp edge of the rack. It is almost un 
 necessary to say that a gag was strapped into 
 the prisoner s mouth to prevent articulation, 
 before he was extended on the rack. No man 
 could endure the supreme pain inflicted by this 
 torture without screaming. I have seen a 
 strong and most determined man faint in less 
 than ten minutes under the strain of this severe 
 and brual punishment, to be cut down and 
 never again twirl sponge staff. I have heard 
 men beg to be killed rather than to be tied on 
 the rack. 
 
 To be bucked and gagged ? Yes, that was 
 severe, but not dangerous. It was highly dis 
 agreeable and painful, too, if prolonged, and at 
 all times calculated to make a man s eyes stick 
 out of his head as lobsters eyes do. And then 
 the appearance of a man while undergoing the 
 punishment was highly discreditable. The sol 
 dier about to be bucked and gagged, generally 
 a drunken or noisy soldier, was forced to sit on 
 the ground ; his knees were drawn up to his 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 35 
 
 chin, then his hands were drawn forward to his 
 shins, and there they were securely bound to 
 gether. A long stick was then thrust under his 
 knees and over his arms. A gag was then 
 securely bound in his mouth. The soldier who 
 was bucked and gagged could not hurt himself 
 or any one else. He could not speak, but he 
 could make inarticulate sounds indicative of his 
 suffering, and he invariably made them before 
 he was released. 
 
 Daily many men were tied up by the thumbs, 
 and that was far from pleasant. The impudent 
 bounty-jumper who had stood on his toes under 
 a tree for a couple of hours to keep his weight 
 off of his thumbs, which were tied to a limb 
 over his head, was exceedingly apt to heed the 
 words of his officers when next they spoke to 
 him. The bounty-jumper lacked the moral 
 qualities which could be appealed to in an 
 honest endeavor to create a soldier out of a 
 ruffian; but his capacity to suffe-r physically was 
 unimpaired, and that had to be played upon. 
 
 Then there was the utterly useless and 
 shoulder-chafing punishment of carrying a stick 
 of cord-wood. The stick that one picked up so 
 cheerfully, and stepped off with so briskly, and 
 walked up and down before a sentinel with so 
 
36 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 gayly in the early morning, had an unaccount 
 able property of growing heavier and heavier 
 as the sun rose higher and higher. One morn 
 ing at ten o clock I dropped a stick that did not 
 weigh more than twelve pounds at sunrise. I 
 sat down by it and turned it over and over. It 
 had not grown, but I was then willing to swear 
 that it had gained one hundred and eighty- 
 eight pounds in weight during the time I had 
 carried it. 
 
 One evening in March an order which in 
 vested General U. S. Grant with the command 
 of all the armies of the United States was read 
 to us. That night we talked long and earnestly 
 about our new general, and wondered what 
 manner of a man he was. Old soldiers, who 
 had seen many military reputations reputa 
 tions which had been made in subordinate 
 commands or in distant regions occupied by 
 inferior Confederate troops melt before the 
 battle-fire of the Army of Northern Virginia, and 
 expose the incapacity of our generals, shrugged 
 their shoulders carelessly, and said indifferently ; 
 " Well, let Grant try what he can accomplish 
 with the Army of the Potomac. He cannot be 
 worse than his predecessors; and, if he is a 
 fighter, he can find all the fighting he wants. 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 37 
 
 We have never complained that Lee s men 
 would not fight. Whatever faults they may 
 have, cowardice is not one of them. We wel 
 come Grant. He cannot be weaker or more 
 inefficient than the generals who have wasted 
 the lives of our comrades during the past three 
 years." But Grant s name aroused no enthu 
 siasm. The Army of the Potomac had passed 
 the enthusiastic stage, and was patiently wait 
 ing to be led to victory or to final defeat. 
 
 The enlisted men thorougly discussed Grant s 
 military capacity. Magazines, illustrated papers, 
 and newspapers, which contained accounts of 
 his military achievements, were sent for, and 
 were eagerly and attentively read. I have seen 
 an artillery private quickly sketch the water 
 courses of the West in the sand with a pointed 
 stick, and ridge up the earth with his hands to 
 represent mountain chains, and then seize suc 
 cessive handfuls of earth and drop them in 
 little piles to represent Forts Henry and Donel- 
 son, and Pittsburg Landing, Vicksburg, and 
 Chattanooga. And then the enlisted men 
 would gather around the sketch and take sides 
 for and against Grant as the story of the battle 
 was read aloud from a newspaper. These dis 
 cussions were fruitless but combat-provoking, 
 
38 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 and frequently the wranglers adjourned to a 
 secluded spot outside of the camp and fought 
 it out with their fists. One thing about Grant s 
 assuming command of the Army of the Potomac 
 that no private I talked with liked, and I talked 
 with hundreds, was the duality of command. 
 Meade was retained in command of the Army 
 of the Potomac, and all orders affecting the 
 army came through him. Still Grant was with 
 us, and in command of the Potomac army, as 
 well as of all other armies. There was a division 
 of responsibility in the division of authority 
 which impressed the enlisted men unfavorably. 
 It looked as though the generals were hedging 
 against future mistakes and disasters. 
 
 With Grant came stricter discipline and re 
 cruits by the thousand. Throughout April 
 there was great activity in all our camps along 
 the Rapidan. The army was reorganized, and 
 many generals were sent to Washington for 
 orders, and we saw no more of them. Staff 
 officers constantly rode to and fro. Inspector- 
 generals were busy. There was a mysterious 
 hum and bustle in all our camps. At all the 
 railroad stations long trains of cars, filled with 
 provisions and forage, were unloaded. White- 
 capped wagons, loaded with hard bread and 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 39 
 
 barrels of salted pork, rolled heavily into regi 
 mental and battery camps. We knew that 
 battle was near. 
 
 On the evening of May 3d we fell in for 
 dress parade. Up and down the immense 
 camp we could see regiment after regiment, 
 battery after battery, fall into line. The bu 
 gles rang out clearly in the soft spring air, dis 
 tant drums beat, and trumpets blared. Then 
 there was silence most profound. We listened 
 attentively to the orders to march. To the 
 right, to the left, in the distance before us, and 
 far behind us, cheers arose. Battery after bat 
 tery, regiment after regiment, cheered until the 
 men were hoarse. My comrades did not cheer. 
 They seemed to be profoundly impressed, but 
 not in the least elated. The wonted silence of 
 the evening was repeatedly broken by the re 
 sounding shouts of distant troops, who could 
 not contain their joy that the season of inac 
 tivity was over, and the campaign, which we 
 all hoped would be short and decisive, was 
 opened. That night many unwonted fires 
 burned, and we knew that the veteran troops 
 were destroying the camp equipage which they 
 did not intend to carry. 
 
 Jellet, the gunner of the piece I served on, 
 
40 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 came to me that evening, and kindly looked 
 into my knapsack, and advised me as to what 
 to keep and what to throw away. He cut my 
 kit down to a change of underclothing, three 
 pairs of socks, a pair of spare shoes, three 
 plugs of navy tobacco, a rubber blanket, and a 
 pair of woollen blankets. 
 
 " Now, my lad, Jellet said, " do not pick up 
 any thing, excepting food and tobacco, while 
 you are on the march. Get hold of all the 
 food you can. Cut haversacks from dead men. 
 Steal them from infantrymen if you can. Let 
 your aim be to secure food and food and still 
 more food, and keep your eyes open for tobac 
 co. Do not look at clothing or shoes or blank 
 ets. You can always draw those articles from 
 the quartermaster. Stick to your gun through 
 thick and thin. Do not straggle. Fill your 
 canteen at every stream we cross and wherever 
 you get a chance elsewhere. Never wash your 
 feet until the day s march is over. If you do, 
 they will surely blister." And here Jellet be 
 came highly impressive and shook his index 
 finger at me warningly and solemnly, " and," 
 he said, " get hold of food, and hang on to it ; 
 you will need it." 
 
 The next morning we had our things packed 
 
IN CAMP AT BRANDY STATION. 41 
 
 and our breakfast eaten by sunrise. Our use 
 less plunder was piled up ; to each bundle was 
 fastened a tag, on which was the name of its 
 owner. The pile was turned over to the bat 
 tery quartermaster, who said he would take 
 good care of the property. He did, too such 
 good care that we never again saw a particle of 
 it. I wanted to burn the camp, but the old 
 soldiers who had fought under McClellan, and 
 Burnside, and Hooker, and Meade, and Pope, 
 scornfully snubbed me. They said : " Leave 
 things as they are " and they added, signifi 
 cantly : " We may want them before snow 
 flies." 
 
III. 
 
 MARCHING TO THE BATTLE OF THE WILDER 
 NESS. 
 
 AT dawn on May 4, 1864, General Grant s 
 last campaign opened. The enlisted 
 men of the battery I served with ate breakfast 
 and struck their camp at Brandy Station before 
 sunrise. It was a beautiful morning, cool and 
 pleasant. The sun arose above an oak forest 
 that stood to the east of us, and its rays caused 
 thousands of distant rifle barrels and steel bay 
 onets to glisten as fire points. In all directions 
 troops were falling into line. The air resounded 
 with the strains of martial music. Standards 
 were unfurled and floated lazily in the light 
 wind. Regiments fell into line on the plain 
 before us. We could see officers sitting on 
 their horses before them, as though making 
 brief speeches to their soldiers, and then the 
 banners would wave, and the lines face to the 
 right into column of fours and march off ; and 
 42 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE. 43 
 
 then the sound of exultant cheering would 
 float to us. Short trains of white-capped and 
 dust-raising wagons rolled across the plain. 
 The heavy-artillery regiment of Germans serv 
 ing as infantry, which had been encamped to 
 our left during the winter, fell into line. We 
 light-artillery men laughed to see the burdens 
 these sturdy men had on their backs. All of 
 the enlisted men of that regiment had one 
 knapsack strapped on their broad backs, and 
 many of them had two. A sturdy, kindly 
 race, the Germans, and tenacious in holding on 
 to property ; but in those days they were igno 
 rant of the power of a southern sun, and of 
 the mysterious quality it possesses to cause 
 men to loathe personal property which they 
 have to carry on their shoulders, and to cast it 
 carelessly by the roadside. Jellet, the gunner 
 of the piece I served on, joined me as I stood 
 leaning against a cool gun, watching the Ger 
 mans make ready for a campaign. He smiled, 
 and said, significantly : " They will throw away 
 those loads before they camp to-night." A 
 word of command rang out in front of their 
 regiment. They faced to the right and marched 
 toward Ely s Ford of the Rapidan, and toward 
 the Wilderness that lay beyond. " Boots and 
 
44 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 saddles ! " was cheerily blown. The light-artil 
 lery men stood to their guns. The horses were 
 harnessed and hitched in, the drivers mounted, 
 and we moved off to take position in the 
 column directly behind the heavily-laden Ger 
 mans. We were in high spirits j indeed we 
 were frisky, and walked along gayly. The 
 men talked of the coming battle, and they sang 
 songs about the soul of John Brown, alleged to 
 be marching on, songs indicative of a desire 
 to hang Jeff. Davis to a sour apple-tree. The 
 Germans were, as usual, full of song and ex 
 ceedingly noisy. I irritably expressed a wish 
 that they would be quiet. Jellet sagely ad 
 vised me, saying : " Wait ; take it easy. I know 
 the road we are to march on. There will be no 
 singing in that regiment this afternoon." But 
 Jellet, the dear old boy, was always advising 
 impatient young men " to take it easy," " to 
 wait a bit," and " don t fret," and, as there 
 was nothing else to do, the young men invari 
 ably followed Jellet s advice. 
 
 We marched toward Ely s Ford pretty 
 steadily for a couple of hours. As we drew 
 near it, we saw that the troops were beginning 
 to jam around its approaches. They were 
 being massed quicker than they could cross. 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE. 45 
 
 We halted at a short distance from the ford 
 and impatiently waited for our turn to cross. 
 Once over the river we would be in column 
 and in our proper place. I noticed that the 
 Germans in our front were sitting on their 
 knapsacks engaged in mopping their faces with 
 red handkerchiefs. And I also noticed that as 
 the sun swung higher and higher toward the 
 zenith their songs retired within their hairy 
 throats. I mentioned these, to me, interesting 
 facts to Jellet, and he tapped his nose signifi 
 cantly with his index finger and said : " Wait 
 a bit. We will lay in provisions from those 
 fellows soon." And then he smiled as he laid 
 down the military law designed to guide the 
 conduct of light-artillery men on the march : 
 " Get food, honestly if you can, but get it ; and 
 ever remember that we cannot have too much 
 of it in the battery." 
 
 A staff officer rode out of the apparently 
 confused mass of men jammed around the ford, 
 and galloped toward us. As he passed the 
 German soldiers, they slowly arose and, resum 
 ing their back-breaking burdens, marched off. 
 The staff officer rode to us, and told our cap 
 tain to follow the Germans closely. This gold- 
 laced youth of the staff had a look of import- 
 
46 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ance on his face that made us all smile. His 
 manner was as though he that morning, single- 
 handed and before breakfast, had vanquished 
 a couple of maiden-devouring dragons. We 
 crossed the Rapidan on a pontoon bridge, and 
 filled our canteens and drank deeply as we 
 crossed. Then we marched over a narrow strip 
 of valley land ; then came a long, steep hill 
 that led up to the comparatively level table 
 land of the Wilderness. This was the hill that 
 caused the Germans to part with their personal 
 property. Spare knapsacks, bursting with rich 
 ness, were cast aside near its base. Blankets, 
 musical instruments, spare boots, and innumer 
 able articles of doubtful utility outcropped 
 about half way up the hill. This float sharply 
 indicated that the lead, when we discovered it, 
 would be a rich one. Near the top of the hill 
 we found many well-filled haversacks, and we 
 picked up every one of them and hung them 
 on the limbers and caissons and guns. The 
 mine was rich, and we worked it thoroughly. 
 Now we began to come on stragglers men who 
 had overloaded themselves, or who were soft 
 and unfit to march in their gross condition. 
 These men, with flushed faces and shirts open 
 at the neck, gazed enviously at us as we light- 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE. 4? 
 
 artillery men walked jauntily by. We felt it a 
 duty to tenderly inquire into the condition of 
 the health of these exhausted men, and did so 
 pleasantly; but they, the ill-conditioned per 
 sons, resented our expressions of love and pity 
 as though they had been insulting remarks. 
 
 On the upland we marched briskly. I saw 
 no inhabitants in this region. They had fled 
 before our advance, abandoning their homes. 
 The soil was poor and thin, and the fields were 
 covered with last year s dead grass, and this 
 grass was burning as we passed by. I saw the 
 burning grass fire fences and sweep into the 
 woods ; and I wondered, as tiny whirwinds 
 formed and carried revolving columns of sparks 
 through the battery, if the caissons and limber 
 chests were spark-tight. As none of the men 
 seemed to be in the least alarmed at the near 
 presence of fire, I ceased to worry, willing to 
 take my chances if an explosion occurred. We 
 marched steadily until the old Chancellorsville 
 House was in sight. Many of the trees stand 
 ing around us were bullet-scarred. We stood 
 idly in the road for some time, then went on 
 for a few hundred yards, and parked in a field 
 by the road, with the Germans in camp ahead 
 of us. Beyond them brigades of troops lay 
 
48 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE, 
 
 restfully around their camp-fires. Other troops 
 marched by rapidly, and late into the night the 
 belated men trod heavily past our camp. 
 
 During the day we had occasionally heard 
 the faint report of distant rifles or the heavy, 
 muffled report of a gun, and we suspected that 
 our cavalry was feeling of Lee s men, who were 
 intrenched near Mine Run, but whose pickets 
 were all over the adjacent country. All of the 
 enlisted men hoped that they would get 
 through the Wilderness a rugged, broken 
 area of upland that extends from the Rapidan 
 River close to Spottsylvania without fighting. 
 The timber is dense and scrubby, and the 
 whole region is cut up by a labyrinth of roads 
 which lead to clearings of charcoal pits and 
 there end. Deep ravines, thickly clad with 
 brush and trees, furrow the forest. The Con 
 federates knew the region thoroughly. Many 
 of their soldiers had worked in the region, 
 which is a mineral one. They knew where the 
 roads led to, where the water was, where the 
 natural line of defence was. We knew nothing, 
 excepting that the Army of the Potomac, under 
 Hooker, had once encountered a direful dis 
 aster on the outskirts of this desolate region. 
 On all sides I heard the murmur of the enlisted 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE. 49 
 
 men as they expressed the hope that they 
 would not have to fight in the Wilderness. 
 
 In the evening, after supper, I walked with a 
 comrade to the spot where General Pleasanton 
 had massed his guns and saved the army under 
 Hooker from destruction, by checking the im 
 petuous onslaught of Stonewall Jackson s Vir 
 ginian infantry, fresh from the pleasures of the 
 chase of the routed Eleventh Corps. We walked 
 to and fro over the old battle-field, looking at 
 bullet-scarred and canister-riven trees. The 
 men who had fallen in that fierce fight had ap 
 parently been buried where they fell, and buried 
 hastily. Many polished skulls lay on the 
 ground. Leg bones, arm bones, and ribs 
 could be found without trouble. Toes of 
 shoes, and bits of faded, weather-worn uni 
 forms, and occasionally a grinning, bony, flesh- 
 less face peered through the low mound that 
 had been hastily thrown over these brave war 
 riors. As we wandered to and fro over the 
 battle-ground, looking at the gleaming skulls 
 and whitish bones, and examining the exposed 
 clothing of the dead to see if they had been 
 Union or Confederate soldiers, many infantry 
 men joined us. It grew dark, and we built a 
 fire at which to light our pipes close to where 
 
50 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 we thought Jackson s men had formed for the 
 charge, as the graves were thickest there, and 
 then we talked of the battle of the preceding 
 year. We sat on long, low mounds. The 
 dead were all around us. Their eyeless skulls 
 seemed to stare steadily at us. The smoke 
 drifted to and fro among us. The trees swayed 
 and sighed gently in the soft wind. One vet 
 eran told the story of the burning of some of 
 the Union soldiers who were wounded during 
 Hooker s fight around the Wilderness, as they 
 lay helpless in the woods. It was a ghastly 
 and awe-inspiring tale as he vividly told it to us 
 as we sat among the dead. This man finished 
 his story by saying shudderingly : 
 
 " This region," indicating the woods beyond 
 us with a wave of his arm, " is an awful place 
 to fight in. The utmost extent of vision is 
 about one hundred yards. Artillery cannot be 
 used effectively. The wounded are liable to 
 be burned to death. I am willing to take my 
 chances of getting killed, but I dread to have 
 a leg broken and then to be burned slowly ; 
 and these woods will surely be burned if we 
 fight here. I hope we will get through this 
 chapparal without fighting," and he took off 
 his cap and meditatively rubbed the dust off 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE. 51 
 
 of the red clover leaf which indicated the divi 
 sion and corps he belonged to. As we sat 
 silently smoking and listening to the story, an 
 infantry soldier who had, unobserved by us, 
 been prying into the shallow grave he sat on 
 with his bayonet, suddenly rolled a skull on 
 the ground before us, and said in a deep, low 
 voice : " That is what you are all coming to, 
 and some of you will start toward it to-mor 
 row." It was growing late, and this uncanny 
 remark broke up the group, most of the men 
 going to their regimental camps. A few of us 
 still sat by the dying embers and smoked. As 
 we talked we heard picket-firing, not brisk, but 
 at short intervals the faint report of a rifle 
 quickly answered. And we reasoned correctly 
 that a Confederate skirmish line was in the 
 woods, and that battle would be offered in the 
 timber. The intelligent enlisted men of the 
 Second Corps with whom I talked that night 
 listened attentively to the firing, now rising, 
 now sinking into silence, to again break out in 
 another place. All of them said that Lee was 
 going to face Grant in the Wilderness, and they 
 based their opinion on the presence of a Con 
 federate skirmish line in the woods. And all 
 of them agreed that the advantages of position 
 
52 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 were with Lee, and that his knowledge of the 
 region would enable him to face our greatly 
 superior army in point of numbers, with a fair 
 prospect of success. But every infantry soldier 
 I talked with was resolute in his purpose to 
 fight desperately and aid to win a victory that 
 would end the war, if it was possible to win it. 
 In all our armies in the civil war there was 
 among the enlisted men, the volunteers, a sys 
 tem of gathering and distributing news that 
 beat the information we received from division 
 and corps head-quarters both in time and accu 
 racy. The system was paralleled by that of 
 the slaves who walked the plantations lying 
 within the Confederacy, o nights. These army 
 news-reporters who walked through the camps 
 at night to meet other soldiers and gather in 
 telligence and discuss the campaign, were al 
 most invariably Americans. I cannot recall 
 ever having met, on these night ranges, men of 
 other nationality. There was a burning desire 
 among these men to know how other commands 
 fared, and to gather accurate information, so as 
 to correctly judge of the battle s tide, the prog 
 ress of the campaign, and the morale of the 
 army. The enlisted men knew of defeats and 
 successes long before they were published in 
 
MARCHING TO THE BATTLE 53 
 
 general orders. The truth is that the privates 
 of the army the volunteers without bounty I 
 mean never believed a report that was pub 
 lished from head-quarters, unless it corresponded 
 with the information the " camp-walkers " had 
 gathered. It was surprising how quickly im 
 portant news relative to a battle or the cam 
 paign spread throughout the army. The news 
 was carried from camp-fire to camp-fire at 
 night, and it was generally reliable and won 
 derfully full and accurate. Often as I sat by the 
 camp-fire, talking with my comrades, I have 
 seen shadowy forms hurrying rapidly through 
 the woods, or along the roads, and I knew men 
 who were hungry for authentic news were beat 
 ing the camps and battle-line to obtain it. 
 Frequently these figures would halt, and then, 
 seeing our fire with men around it, they would 
 issue forth from the woods and join us. They 
 would sit down, fill their pipes, light them with 
 glowing coals, and then, with their rifles lying 
 across their knees, ask for the Second Corps 
 news, inquire as to our losses, and whether we 
 had gained or lost ground, and what Confeder 
 ate command was opposed to us. They would 
 anxiously inquire as to the truth of rumors of 
 disaster which they might have heard during 
 
54 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 the day. They would listen attentively to 
 what we said, and it was a point of honor not 
 to give false information to these men. And 
 then they would briefly tell the Fifth, or Sixth, 
 or Ninth Corps news, and quickly disappear 
 in the darkness. I have often, after a day s 
 service at the guns, walked three miles in the 
 dark to verify a rumor that affected our safety. 
 With no disrespect to these natural-born sol 
 diers and most intelligent men do I record the 
 seemingly incongruous truth, that it was neces 
 sary to closely watch army news-gatherers. 
 One and all they would steal haversacks. 
 They invariably combined predatory raids on 
 other men s portable property with news- 
 gathering. To rob a soldier was to rob a man 
 who might be killed next day, and would not 
 need property. 
 
 It was past midnight when I crept under the 
 caisson of my gun and pillowed my head on my 
 knapsack. The distant rifle-shots on the 
 picket-line grew fainter and fainter, then were 
 lost in the nearer noises of the camps, and I 
 slept. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 r | ^HE next morning I was awakened by a 
 bugle call to find the battery I belonged 
 to almost ready to march. I hurriedly toasted 
 a bit of pork and ate it, and quickly chewed 
 down a couple of hard tack, and drank deeply 
 from my canteen, and was ready to march when 
 the battery moved. It was a delightful morn 
 ing. Almost all the infantry which had been 
 camped around us the previous evening had 
 disappeared. We struck into the road, passed 
 the Chancellorsville House, turned to the right, 
 and marched up a broad turnpike toward the 
 Wilderness forest. After marching on this 
 road for a short distance we turned to the 
 left on an old dirt road, which led obliquely 
 into the woods. The picket firing had in 
 creased in volume since the previous evening, 
 and there was no longer any doubt that we 
 were to fight in the Wilderness. The firing 
 55 
 
56 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 was a pretty brisk rattle, and steadily increas 
 ing in volume. About ten o clock in the morn 
 ing the soft spring air resounded with a fierce 
 yell, the sound of which was instantly drowned 
 by a roar of musketry, and we knew that the 
 battle of the Wilderness had opened. The bat 
 tery rolled heavily up the road into the woods 
 for a short distance, when we were met by a 
 staff officer, who ordered us out, saying : 
 
 " The battle has opened in dense timber. 
 Artillery cannot be used. Go into park in 
 the field just outside of the woods." 
 
 We turned the guns and marched back and 
 went into park. Battery after battery joined 
 us, some coming out of the woods and others 
 up the road from the Chancellorsville House, 
 until some hundred guns or more were parked 
 in the field. We were then the reserve artillery. 
 
 Ambulances and wagons loaded with medical 
 supplies galloped on the field, and a hospital 
 was established behind our guns. Soon men, 
 singly and in pairs or in groups of four or five, 
 came limping slowly or walking briskly, with 
 arms across their breasts and their hands 
 clutched into their blouses, out of the woods. 
 Some carried their rifles. Others had thrown 
 them away. All of them were bloody. They 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 57 
 
 slowly filtered through the immense artillery 
 park and asked, with bloodless lips, to be 
 directed to a hospital. Powder smoke hung 
 high above the trees in thin clouds. The noise 
 in the woods was terrific. The musketry was a 
 steady roll, and high above it sounded the in 
 spiring charging cheers and yells of the now 
 thoroughly excited combatants. At intervals 
 we could hear the loud report of Napoleon 
 guns, and we thought that Battery K of the 
 Fourth United States Artillery was in action. 
 By eleven o clock the wounded men were com 
 ing out of the woods in streams, and they had 
 various tales to tell. Bloody men from the 
 battle-line of the Fifth Corps trooped through 
 our park supporting more severely wounded 
 comrades. The battle, these men said, did not 
 incline in our favor. They insisted that the Con 
 federates were in force, and that they, having 
 the advantage of position and knowledge of the 
 region, had massed their soldiers for the attack 
 and outnumbered us at the points of conflict. 
 They described the Confederate fire as wonder 
 fully accurate. One man who had a ghastly 
 flesh wound across his forehead said : " The 
 Confederates are shooting to kill this time. 
 Few of their balls strike the trees higher than 
 
58 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ten feet from the ground. Small trees are al 
 ready falling, having been cut down by rifle 
 balls. There is hardly a Union battery in ac 
 tion," he added, after an instant s pause. 
 
 By noon I was quite wild with curiosity, and, 
 confident that the artillery would remain in 
 park, I decided to go to the battle-line and 
 see what was going on. I neglected to ask my 
 captain for permission to leave the battery, be 
 cause I feared he would not grant my request, 
 and I did not want to disobey orders by going 
 after he had refused me. I walked out of camp 
 and up the road. The wounded men were be 
 coming more and more numerous. I saw men, 
 faint from loss of blood, sitting in the shade 
 cast by trees. Other men were lying down. 
 All were pale, and their faces expressed great 
 suffering. As I walked I saw a dead man lying 
 under a tree which stood by the roadside. He 
 had been shot through the chest and had strug 
 gled to the rear ; then, becoming exhausted or 
 choked with blood, he had lain down on a car 
 pet of leaves and died. His pockets were 
 turned inside out. A little farther on I met 
 a sentinel standing by the roadside. Other 
 sentinels paced to and fro in the woods on 
 each side of the road, or stood leaning against 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 59 
 
 trees, looking in the direction of the battle-line, 
 which was far ahead of them in the woods. I 
 stopped to talk to the guard posted on- the 
 road. He eyed me inquiringly, and answered 
 my question as to what he was doing there, 
 saying : " Sending stragglers back to the 
 front." Then he added, in an explanatory tone : 
 
 " No enlisted man can go past me to the 
 rear unless he can show blood." 
 
 He turned to a private who was hastening 
 down the road, and cried : 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 The soldier, who was going to the rear, paid 
 no attention to the command. Instantly the 
 sentinel s rifle was cocked, and it rose to his 
 shoulder. He coolly covered the soldier, and 
 sternly demanded that he show blood. The 
 man had none to show. The cowardly soldier 
 was ordered to return to his regiment, and, 
 greatly disappointed, he turned back. Wound 
 ed men passed the guard without being halted. 
 These guards seemed to be posted in the rear 
 of the battle-lines for the express purpose of 
 intercepting the flight of cowards. At the 
 time, it struck me as a quaint idea to picket the 
 rear of an army which was righting a desperate 
 battle. 
 
60 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 I explained to the sentinel that I was a light- 
 artillery man, and that I wanted to see the 
 fight. 
 
 " Can I go past you ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, u you can go up. But 
 you had better not go," he added. " You have 
 no distinctive mark or badge on your dress 
 to indicate the arm you belong to. If you 
 go up, you may not be allowed to return, and 
 then," he added, as he shrugged his shoulders 
 indifferently, " you may get killed. But suit 
 yourself." 
 
 So I went on. There was very heavy firing 
 to the left of the road in a chaparral of brush 
 and scrubby pines and oaks. There the 
 musketry was a steady roar, and the cheers 
 and yells of the fighters incessant. I left 
 the road and walked through the woods 
 toward the battle-ground, and met many 
 wounded men who were coming out. They 
 were bound for the rear and the hospitals. 
 Then I came on a body of troops lying in re 
 serve, a second line of battle, I suppose. I 
 heard the hum of bullets as they passed over 
 the low trees. Then I noticed that small 
 limbs of trees were falling in a feeble shower 
 in advance of me. It was as though an army 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 6 1 
 
 of squirrels were at work cutting off nut and 
 pine cone-laden branches preparatory to lay 
 ing in their winter s store of food. Then, par 
 tially obscured by a cloud of powder smoke, 
 I saw a straggling line of men clad in blue. 
 They were not standing as if on parade, but 
 they were taking advantage of the cover af 
 forded by trees, and they were firing rapidly. 
 Their line officers were standing behind them 
 or in line with them. The smoke drifted to 
 and fro, and there were many rifts in it. I 
 saw scores of wounded men. I saw many dead 
 soldiers lying on the ground, and I saw men 
 constantly falling on the battle-line. I could 
 not see the Confederates, and, as I had gone 
 to the front expressly to see a battle, I 
 pushed on, picking my way from protective 
 tree to protective tree, until I was about forty 
 yards from the battle-line. The uproar was 
 deafening; the bullets flew through the air 
 thickly. Now our line would move forward a 
 few yards, now fall back. I stood behind a 
 large oak tree, and peeped around its trunk. 
 I heard bullets " spat " into this tree, and I 
 suddenly realized that I was in danger. My 
 ; heart thumped wildly for a minute; then my 
 throat and mouth felt dry and queer. A dead 
 
62 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 sergeant lay at my feet, with a hole in his 
 forehead just above his left eye. Out of this 
 wound bits of brain oozed, and slid on a bloody 
 trail into his eye, and thence over his cheek to 
 the ground. I leaned over the body to feel 
 of it. It was still warm. He could not have 
 been dead for over five minutes. As I stooped 
 over the dead man, bullets swept past me, and 
 I became angry at the danger I had foolishly 
 gotten into. I unbuckled the dead man s cart 
 ridge belt, and strapped it around me, and 
 then I picked up his rifle. I remember stand 
 ing behind the large oak tree, and dropping 
 the ramrod into the rifle to see if it was loaded. 
 It was not. So I loaded it, and before I fairly 
 understood what had taken place, I was in the 
 rear rank of the battle-line, which had surged 
 back on the crest of a battle billow, bareheaded, 
 and greatly excited, and blazing away at an in 
 distinct, smoke-and-tree-obscured line, of men 
 clad in gray and slouch-hatted. As I cooled 
 off in the heat of the battle fire, I found that 
 I was on the Fifth Corps line, instead of on 
 the Second Corps line, where I wanted to be. 
 I spoke to the men on either side of me, and 
 they stared at me, a stranger, and briefly said 
 that the regiment, the distinctive number of 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 63 
 
 which I have long since forgotten, was near the 
 left of the Fifth Corps, and that they had been 
 fighting pretty steadily since about ten o clock 
 in the morning, but with poor success, as the 
 Confederates had driven them back a little. 
 The fire was rather hot, and the men were 
 falling pretty fast. Still it was not anywhere 
 near as bloody as I had expected a battle to 
 be. As a grand, inspiring spectacle, it was 
 highly unsatisfactory, owing to the powder 
 smoke obscuring the vision. At times we 
 could not see the Confederate line, but that 
 made no difference ; we kept on firing just 
 as though they were in full view. We gained 
 ground at times, and then dead Confederates 
 lay on the ground as thickly as dead Union 
 soldiers did behind us. Then we would fall 
 back, fighting stubbornly, but steadily giving 
 ground, until the dead were all clad in blue. 
 
 Between two and three o clock the fire in 
 our front slackened. We did not advance. 
 Indeed I saw no general officer on the battle- 
 line to take advantage of any opportunity that 
 the battle s tide might expose to a man of mili 
 tary talent. I had seen some general officers 
 near the reserves, but none on the front line. 
 I noticed the lack of artillery and saw that the 
 
64 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 nature of the ground forbade its use. Our 
 line was fed with fresh troops and greatly 
 strengthened. Boxes of cartridges were carried 
 to us, and we helped ourselves. We were 
 standing behind trees or lying on the ground, 
 and occasionally shooting at the Confederate 
 line, or where their line should have been. 
 Some of the old soldiers muttered about things 
 in general, and rebel dodges in particular, and 
 darkly hinted that the sudden slackening of 
 the fire in our front boded no good to us. 
 Soon a storm of yells, followed instantly by a 
 roar of musketry, rolled to us from the left, 
 and not distant. Almost instantly it was fol 
 lowed by a cheer and a volley of musketry. 
 We sprang to our feet and were in line, but 
 there was nothing in strength ahead of us. 
 To the left the noise increased in volume. 
 The musketry was thunderous. Soon affrighted 
 men rushed through the woods to our rear, not 
 in ones and twos, but in dozens and scores, 
 and as they swept past us they cried loudly : 
 
 " We are flanked ! Hill s corps has got 
 around our left." 
 
 Officers gave commands which I did not 
 understand, but I did as my comrades did, and 
 we were speedily placed at right angles to our 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 65 
 
 original position, which was held by a heavy 
 skirmish line. Many of the men who were 
 running from the battle-field dropped into our 
 line and remained with us until nightfall. I 
 saw men from a dozen different regiments 
 standing in our line. We were dreadfully 
 nervous, and felt around blindly for a few 
 minutes, not knowing what to do. Then we 
 were reassured by seeing a staff officer explain 
 ing something to the commander of the regi 
 ment, a young major. This officer passed the 
 word along the line that the Second Corps had 
 come up just in time to close up a gap between 
 the two corps, through which the Confederate 
 general, Hill, had endeavored to thrust a 
 heavy column of infantry. Speedily we got 
 back into our original position. In a few min 
 utes we saw a thin line of gray figures, not 
 much heavier than a strong skirmish line, ad 
 vancing rapidly toward us. They yelled loudly 
 and continuously. We began firing rapidly, 
 and so did they. They came quite close to 
 us, say within seventy-five yards, and covered 
 themselves as well as they could. We could 
 see them fairly well, and shot many of them, 
 and they killed and wounded many Union sol 
 diers. Soon we drove them to cover, and they 
 
66 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 were comparatively quiet. The noise to the 
 left, where Hancock s corps was fighting, al 
 most drowned the racket we were making. 
 The Confederate charge against the portion of 
 the Fifth Corps where I was fighting was not 
 delivered with vim. It impressed me as a 
 sham. Their line, as I said, was thin, and it 
 lacked momentum. I spoke to my fellows 
 about it, and they all agreed that it was not 
 earnest fighting, but a sham to cover the real 
 attack on our left. There the battle raged 
 with inconceivable fury for about two hours. 
 Then the fight died down, and excepting for 
 picket-firing, the lines were silent. 
 
 The wounded soldiers lay scattered among 
 the trees. They moaned piteously. The un- 
 wounded troops, exhausted with battle, helped 
 their stricken comrades to the rear. The 
 wounded were haunted with the dread of fire. 
 They conjured the scenes of the previous year, 
 when some wounded men were burned to 
 death, and their hearts well-nigh ceased to beat 
 when they thought they detected the smell of 
 burning wood in the air. The bare prospect 
 of fire running through the woods where they 
 lay helpless, unnerved the most courageous of 
 men, and made them call aloud for help. I 
 
THE BATTLE Of THE WILDERNESS. 67 
 
 saw many wounded soldiers in the Wilderness 
 who hung on to their rifles, and whose inten 
 tion was clearly stamped on their pallid faces. 
 I saw one man, both of whose legs were broken, 
 lying on the ground with his cocked rifle by 
 his side and his ramrod in his hand, and his 
 eyes set on the front. I knew he meant to kill 
 himself in case of fire knew it as surely as 
 though I could read his thoughts. The dead 
 men lay where they fell. Their haversacks 
 and cartridges had been taken from their 
 bodies. The battle-field ghouls had rifled 
 their pockets. I saw no dead man that night 
 whose pockets had not been turned inside out. 
 Soon after dark the story of the fight on our 
 left had been gathered by the newsmongers, 
 and we learned that the Second Corps had 
 saved itself from rout and the army from de 
 feat by the most dogged fighting, and that 
 they had required the aid of Getty s division 
 of the Sixth Corps to enable them to hold 
 their own. That news was sufficient to start 
 me. So I went down the line, walking through 
 the woods, stumbling over the dead and being 
 cursed by the living, until I came to the Second 
 Corps. There I found a regiment, the Fortieth 
 New York, if I correctly recall the number, 
 
68 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 some of whose soldiers I knew. They told me 
 the story of the fight. It was really told by 
 the windrows of dead men, and the loud and 
 continuous shrieks and groans of the wounded. 
 I was still bareheaded, and I fitted myself with 
 a hat from a collection of hats lying near some 
 dead men. And I took a pair of blankets from 
 the shoulders of a dead man and slept in them 
 that night. 
 
 Early the next morning, long before sunrise, 
 I had my breakfast, and having seen sufficient 
 of the fighting done by infantry, and strongly 
 impressed with the truth that a light-artillery 
 man had better stay close to his guns, I bade 
 my acquaintances good-by, and walked off, in 
 tent on getting to my gun and comparative 
 comfort and safety. But I hung on to my rifle 
 and belt. They were to be trophies of the 
 battle, and I meant to excite the envy of my 
 comrades by displaying them. Stepping into 
 the road I walked along briskly, and saw many 
 other unwounded men rearward bound. A 
 sentinel, with rifle at the carry, halted me, and 
 demanded to see blood. I could show none. 
 I assured him that I belonged to the light artil 
 lery, and that I had gone to the front the pre 
 vious day just to see the battle. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 69 
 
 He said : " You have a rifle ; you have a belt 
 and a cartridge box. Your mouth is powder- 
 blackened. You have been fighting as an in 
 fantryman, and you shall so continue to fight. 
 You go back, or I will arrest you, and then you 
 will be sent back." 
 
 To say that I was amazed and disgusted 
 would but faintly express my feelings. There 
 stood the provost guard, who would not let me 
 go home to my battery. I longed to kill him 
 longed to show the Army of the Potomac 
 one dead provost guard ; but I was afraid to 
 shoot him, for fear that his comrades might see 
 me do it. So I turned and hastened back to 
 the front. I determined to fight that day, and 
 go home to the battery the succeeding night. 
 I did not believe that the line of guards ex 
 tended far into the woods, and even if they 
 did I knew that I could pass through the lines 
 in the night. Before I rejoined the infantry 
 who were on the battle-line I equipped myself 
 with a plug of tobacco and two canteens filled 
 with water never mind where I got them. 
 
 Away off to the right, toward the Rapidan, 
 the battle rose with the sun. In our front, the 
 Second Corps, there was little movement dis 
 cernible. But so dense was the cover that we 
 
70 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 could see but little at a distance of two hundred 
 yards. I saw that the soldiers had thrown up 
 a slight intrenchment during the previous night. 
 About five o clock we were ordered to advance, 
 and pushed ahead, fighting as we went, and 
 forced Hill s men back, killing many, wounding 
 more, and taking scores of prisoners. We 
 crossed a road, which a wounded Confederate 
 told me was the Brock road. I saw many dead 
 Confederates during this advance. They were 
 poorly clad. Their blankets were in rolls, hang 
 ing diagonally from the left shoulder to the 
 right side, where the ends were tied with a 
 string or a strap. Their canvas haversacks 
 contained plenty of corn-meal and some bacon. 
 I saw no coffee, no sugar, no hard bread in any 
 of the Confederate haversacks I looked into. 
 But there was tobacco in plugs on almost all 
 the dead Confederates. Their arms were not 
 as good as ours. They were poorly shod. The 
 direful poverty of the Confederacy was plainly 
 indicated by its dead soldiers. But they fought ? 
 Yes, like men of purely American blood. We 
 had charged, and charged, and charged again, 
 and had gone wild with battle fever. We had 
 gained about two miles of ground. We were 
 doing splendidly. I cast my eyes upward to 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 71 
 
 see the sun, so as to judge of the time, as I was 
 hungry and wanted to eat, and I saw that it 
 was still low above the trees. The Confeder 
 ates seemed to be fighting more stubbornly, 
 righting as though their battle-line was being 
 fed with more troops. They hung on to the 
 ground they occupied tenaciously, and reso 
 lutely refused to fall back further. Then came 
 a swish of bullets and a fierce exultant yell, as 
 of thousands of infuriated tigers. Our men 
 fell by scores. Great gaps were struck in our 
 lines. There was a lull for an instant, and then 
 Longstreet s men sprang to the charge. It was 
 swiftly and bravely made, and was within an 
 ace of being successful. There was great con 
 fusion in our line. The men wavered badly. 
 They fired wildly. They hesitated. I feared 
 the line would break ; feared that we were 
 whipped. The line was fed with troops from 
 the reserve. The regimental officers held their 
 men as well as they could. We could hear 
 them close behind us, or in line with us, say 
 ing : " Steady, men, steady, steady, steady ! " as 
 one speaks to frightened and excited horses. 
 The Confederate fire resembled the fury of hell 
 in intensity, and was deadly accurate. Their 
 bullets swished by in swarms. It seems to me 
 
72 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 that I could have caught a pot full of them if 
 I had had a strong iron vessel rigged on a pole 
 as a butterfly net. Again our line became 
 wavy and badly confused, and it was rapidly 
 being shot into a skirmish-like order of forma 
 tion. Speedily a portion of the Ninth Corps 
 came to our assistance, and they came none too 
 soon. They steadied the line and we regained 
 heart. During this critical time, when the fate 
 of the Second Corps was trembling in the bal 
 ance, many officers rushed to and fro behind us, 
 but I saw no major-generals among them ; but 
 then I had sufficient to do to look ahead and 
 fall back without falling down, and they may 
 have been on the battle-line, only I did not see 
 them. The Confederates got a couple of bat 
 teries into action, and they added to the deaf 
 ening din. The shot and shell from these guns 
 cut great limbs off of the trees, and these 
 occasionally fell near the battle-line, and sev 
 eral men were knocked down by them. Our 
 line strengthened, we, in our turn, pushed 
 ahead, and Longstreet s men gave ground 
 slowly before us, fighting savagely for every 
 foot. The wounded lay together. I saw, in 
 the heat of this fight, wounded men of the 
 opposing forces aiding each other to reach the 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 73 
 
 protective shelter of trees and logs, and, as we 
 advanced, I saw a Confederate and a Union 
 soldier drinking in turn out of a Union can 
 teen, as they lay behind a tree. 
 
 There was another lull, and then the charging 
 line of gray again rushed to the assault with 
 inconceivable fury. We fired and fired and 
 fired, and fell back fighting stubbornly. We 
 tore cartridges until our teeth ached. But we 
 could not check the Confederate advance, and 
 they forced us back and back and back until 
 we were behind the slight intrenchments along 
 the Brock road. A better charge, or a more 
 determined, I never saw. We fought savagely 
 at the earthworks. At some points the timber 
 used in the earthworks was fired, and our men 
 had to stand back out of the line of flame and 
 shoot through it at the Confederates, who were 
 fighting in front of the works. And the 
 woods, through which we had fallen back, 
 were set on fire, and many wounded soldiers 
 were burned to death. We beat off the Con 
 federates, and they, with the exception of the 
 picket line, disappeared. Our line was straight 
 ened, reserves were brought up, and some of the 
 battle-torn troops were relieved. We had half 
 an hour s rest, during which time many of us 
 
74 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ate and smoked, and drank out of our canteens ; 
 and we talked, though not so hopefully as in the 
 early morning. Men missed old comrades, and 
 with only seeming indifference figuratively 
 reckoned they had " turned up their toes." 
 Firing had almost ceased. It was as the ces 
 sation of the wind before the approach of a 
 cyclone. A tempest of fire and balls and yells 
 broke out on the right. We were out of it. 
 The real battle raged furiously in the woods to 
 the right, while a heavy line of Confederate 
 skirmishers, who lurked skilfully behind trees 
 and who fired briskly and accurately, made 
 things decidedly unpleasant for us, and effectu 
 ally prevented any men being drawn from our 
 portion of the line to strengthen the right. 
 How we fretted while this unseen combat 
 raged ! We judged that our men were being 
 worsted as the battle-sounds passed steadily to 
 our rear. Then the fugitives, the men quick 
 to take alarm and speedy of foot when faced 
 to the rear, began to pass diagonally through 
 the woods behind us. While we stood quiver 
 ing with nervous excitement, and gazing anx 
 iously into each other s eyes, we heard a solid 
 roll of musketry, as though a division had fired 
 together, cheers followed, and then the battle- 
 
THE J3ATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 75 
 
 sound rapidly advanced toward the Confederate 
 line. Then all was quiet, and the fighting on the 
 left of our line was over. Soon word was passed 
 along the line that the charging Confederates 
 had broken through the left of the Ninth Corps, 
 and would have cut the army in twain if Gene 
 ral Carroll had not caught them on the flank 
 and driven them back with the Third Brigade 
 of the Second Division of the Second Corps. 
 
 The enlisted men supposed the day s fighting 
 was over. And so did our generals. But the 
 Confederates marched swiftly on many parallel 
 roads, and were massed for an attack on our 
 right, the Sixth Corps. They were skilfully 
 launched and ably led, and they struck with 
 terrific violence against Shaler s and Seymour s 
 brigades, which were routed, with a loss of 
 4,000 prisoners. The Confederates came within 
 an ace of routing the Sixth Corps ; but the 
 commanders restored and steadied the lines, 
 and the Confederate charge was first checked 
 and then bloodily repulsed. 
 
 The day s offensive fighting on the part of 
 the Confederates, as we, the enlisted men, 
 summed it up, had consisted of two general 
 assaults delivered all along our line, as though 
 to feel of us and discover where we were the 
 
76 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 weakest, and to promptly take advantage of 
 the knowledge gained, to attack in force and 
 with surprising vim and stanchness first one 
 flank and then the other. Both of the assaults 
 were dangerously near being successful. 
 
 The sun sank, and the gloom among the 
 trees thickened and thickened until darkness 
 reigned in the forest where thousands of dead 
 and wounded men lay. The air still smelled 
 of powder-smoke. Many soldiers cleaned out 
 their rifles. We ate, and then large details 
 helped to carry their wounded comrades to the 
 road, where we loaded them into ambulances 
 and wagons. I determined to join my battery. 
 I threw away my rifle and belt, and as the first 
 wagons loaded with wounded men moved to 
 the rear, I walked by the side of the column 
 and passed the guards, if there were any sta 
 tioned on that road, without being challenged. 
 When I was well to the rear, I for the first and 
 last time became a " coffee boiler." I cooked 
 and ate a hearty supper, and then rolled myself 
 in the dead soldier s blankets, which I had 
 hung on to, and slept soundly until morning, 
 when I found the battery I belonged to with 
 out much trouble, and was promptly punished 
 for being absent without leave. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. JJ 
 
 About ten o clock in the morning I was sit 
 ting by the battery wagon, sullenly nursing my 
 sore arms and shoulders and my wrath. I had 
 had an experience of packing a stick of wood 
 on my shoulder in front of a guard, who skil 
 fully touched me up with the point of his 
 sabre when I lagged, that had soured my 
 usually sweet temper. And I was ill-tempered 
 when wounded men began to drift through the 
 guns. The noise in the woods had sunk to 
 skirmish-firing. The wounded men said that 
 the third day s fighting opened with a lit 
 tle artillery practice at nothing, which was not 
 answered, and that then the men who carried 
 rifles investigated matters, and promptly 
 discovered that the Confederates had in 
 trenched themselves during the night. 
 
 That evening the troops began to pour out 
 of the woods in columns. The infantry sol 
 diers marched soberly past the artillery. There 
 were no exultant songs in those columns. 
 The men seemed aged. They were very tired 
 and very hungry. They seemed to be greatly 
 depressed. I sat by the roadside, in front of 
 the battery, waiting for it to move, and atten 
 tively watched the infantry march past. Many 
 of the soldiers spoke to me, asking if there was 
 
78 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 authentic news as to where they were going. 
 Some of these men were slightly wounded. I 
 noticed that the wounded men who stuck to 
 their colors were either Irish or Americans, 
 and that they had the stride and bearing of 
 veterans. There was a gap in the column, and 
 my battery moved on to the road, and other 
 batteries followed us. We marched rapidly 
 and without halting, until we reached a point 
 where another road, which led in the direction 
 of the right of our battle-line, joined the road 
 we were on. Here we met a heavy column of 
 troops marching to the rear, as we were. The 
 enlisted men were grave, and rather low in 
 spirits, and decidedly rough in temper. March 
 ing by my side was a Vermont Yankee ser 
 geant whose right cheek had been slightly 
 burnt by a rifle-ball, not enough to send him 
 to the rear, but sufficient to make him irritable 
 and ill-tempered. He talked bitterly of the 
 fight. His men talked worse. They one and 
 all asserted that the army was not whipped, 
 that they had not been properly handled in 
 the two first days fighting, and that the two 
 days fighting had resulted in a Confederate loss 
 almost, if not quite, equal to ours, as the fight 
 ing was generally outside of the earthworks. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 79 
 
 " Here we go," said a Yankee private ; 
 " here we go, marching for the Rapidan, and 
 the protection afforded by that river. Now, 
 when we get to the Chancellorsville House, if 
 we turn to the left, we are whipped at least 
 so say Grant and Meade. And if we turn 
 toward the river, the bounty-jumpers will 
 break and run, and there will be a panic." 
 
 " Suppose we turn to the right, what then ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " That will mean fighting, and fighting on 
 the line the Confederates have selected and in 
 trenched. But it will indicate the purpose of 
 Grant to fight," he replied. 
 
 Then he told me that the news in his Sixth 
 Corps brigade was that Meade had strongly 
 advised Grant to turn back and recross the 
 Rapidan, and that this advice was inspired by 
 the loss of Shaler s and Seymour s brigades on 
 the evening of the previous day. This was the 
 first time I heard this rumor, but I heard it 
 fifty times before I slept that night. The en 
 listed men, one and all, believed it, and I then 
 believed the rumor to be authentic, and I be 
 lieve it to-day. None of the enlisted men had 
 any confidence in Meade as a tenacious, ag 
 gressive fighter. They had seen him allow the 
 
SO RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Confederates to escape destruction after Get 
 tysburg, and many of them openly ridiculed 
 him and his alleged military ability. 
 
 Grant s military standing with the enlisted 
 men this day hung on the direction we turned 
 at the Chancellorsville House. If to the left, 
 he was to be rated with Meade and Hooker 
 and Burnside and Pope the generals who pre 
 ceded him. At the Chancellorsville House we 
 turned to the right. Instantly all of us heard 
 a sigh of relief. Our spirits rose. We marched 
 free. The men began to sing. The enlisted 
 men understood the flanking movement. That 
 night we were happy. There was much inter 
 change of opinion between the artillerymen 
 and the infantry. We gathered from the losses 
 these men enumerated in their own commands 
 that the three days fighting had cost Grant 
 about twenty-five thousand men, or a little 
 more than one fifth of the army. And the en 
 listed men the volunteers who had brains in 
 their skulls always insisted that those figures 
 correctly represented the losses of Union sol 
 diers in the bloody Wilderness battle. 
 
V. 
 
 FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 
 
 MAY 8, 1864. The bloody battle of the 
 Wilderness was a thing of the past. 
 That dense chaparral in which the unburied 
 dead Union and Confederate soldiers lay scat 
 tered thickly was being left behind us as we 
 marched. In the morning the guns of the 
 Fifth Corps notified the Union troops that the 
 Confederates had been found. The Fifth 
 Corps had been in the advance in the flank 
 movement to the left out of the Wilderness, 
 and Longstreet s corps had marched parallel 
 with it, and had taken position behind the 
 river Ny, which was more properly a creek. 
 We were not in this fight, but correctly judged 
 that it was not severe, as at no time did the 
 battle s roar rise to the volume which indicates 
 a fierce engagement. On May pth the army 
 was clear of the Wilderness. We took position 
 around Spottsylvania Court-House. Wherever 
 we went there were heavy earthworks, behind 
 81 
 
82 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 which the veteran Confederate infantry lurked. 
 The day was spent in getting into position and 
 in bloody wrangling between the opposing 
 pickets and in sharpshooting. At intervals 
 would be a crash of musketry and a cheer; 
 then the artillery would open and fire briskly 
 for a few minutes. But there was no real 
 fighting. That night we heard that General 
 Sedgwick, commanding the Sixth Corps, had 
 been killed by a sharpshooter or by a stray ball 
 from the Confederate picket line. 
 
 May loth, and the fighting began. The din 
 of the battle was continuous, and as much of 
 the artillery had been drawn to the battle-line 
 the noise was far louder than it had been in 
 the Wilderness. The troops fought all day. 
 A solid roll of musketry, mingled with the 
 thunderous reports of cannon quickly served, 
 caused the air to quiver. After fighting all 
 day, we spent a large portion of the night in 
 fruitless endeavors to flank the Confederate 
 position. Spent it in following staff officers, 
 to find that we were again in front of earth 
 works, which were lined with keen-eyed, reso 
 lute infantry soldiers. In Spottsylvania we 
 fought by day, we marched by night, and our 
 losses were exceedingly large. 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 83 
 
 One day the battery I served with was parked 
 for rest near a road down which wounded men 
 were streaming in a straggling column. These 
 men, tired, weakened by loss of blood, and dis 
 couraged, tumbled exhausted into the angles 
 of worm fences, and spread their blankets from 
 rail to rail to make a shade. There they rested 
 and patiently waited for their turn at the sur 
 geons tables. They were a ghastly array. The 
 sight of these poor, stricken men as they helped 
 one another, as they bound one another s 
 wounds, as they painfully hobbled to and fro 
 for water, was a most pathetic one. They 
 lined the roadside for half a mile, a double 
 hedgerow of suffering and death, as men were 
 dying in the fence corners every few minutes. 
 Down the road we heard the stirring music of 
 a martial band. Soon the head of a column of 
 troops came in sight. Officers were riding at 
 the head of the soldiers on horses that pranced. 
 The men were neatly clad, and their brass 
 shoulder-plates shone brightly in the sun. 
 
 " The heavy-artillery men from the fortifica 
 tions around Washington," one of my comrades 
 murmured. 
 
 These fresh soldiers were marching beauti 
 fully. They were singing loudly and tunefully. 
 
84 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 They were apparently pleased with the prospect 
 of fighting in defence of their country. For some 
 reason the infantry of the line the volunteer 
 infantry did not admire heavy-artillery men. 
 They liked light-artillery men, and were en 
 couraged by the presence of the guns on the 
 battle-line. There was something inspiring in 
 the work of the gunners and in the noisy re 
 ports of the cannon ; and, then, cannon were 
 deadly, and if well served and accurately aimed, 
 they could and did pulverize charging columns. 
 But heavy-artillery men were soldiers of a dif 
 ferent breed. There was a widespread belief 
 among us that these men had enlisted in that 
 arm because they expected to fight behind 
 earthworks, or to safely garrison the forts 
 which surrounded Washington. We did not 
 like these troops. The head of the heavy-ar 
 tillery column, the men armed as infantry, was 
 thrust among the wounded who lined the road 
 side. These bloody wrecks of soldiers derided 
 the new-comers. Men would tauntingly point 
 to a shattered arm, or a wounded leg, or to 
 bloody wounds on their faces, or to dead men 
 lying in fence corners, and derisively shout : 
 " That is what you will catch up yonder in the 
 woods ! " and they would solemnly indicate the 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 8$ 
 
 portion of the forest they meant by extending 
 arms from which blood trickled in drops. I 
 saw one group of these wounded men repeat 
 edly cover and uncover with a blanket a dead 
 man whose face was horribly distorted, and 
 show the courage-sapping spectacle to the 
 marching troops, and faintly chuckle and cause 
 their pale cheeks to bulge with derisive tongue- 
 thrusts, as they saw the heavy-artillery men s 
 faces blanch. Still others would inquire in 
 mock solicitious tones as to the locality of 
 their cannon, and then tenderly inquire of 
 some soldier whose bearing or dress caught 
 their attention ; " Why, dearest, why did you 
 leave your earthwork behind you ? " And they 
 would hobble along and solemnly assure the man 
 that he had made a serious mistake, and that 
 he should have brought the earthwork along, 
 as he would need it in yonder woods, pointing 
 with outstretched bloody arms to the forest, 
 where the battle s roar resounded. Others as 
 sumed attitudes of mock admiration and gazed 
 impudently and contemptuously at the full regi 
 ments as they marched by. Long before the 
 heavy-artillery men had passed through the 
 bloody gauntlet their songs were hushed. 
 They became grave and sober-minded. For 
 
86 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 the first time they realized what war meant. It 
 was not play. It was not pleasure. It was not 
 sport under the greenwood trees, but a savage 
 encounter with desperate adversaries, who 
 dealt death and grievous wounds with impar 
 tial hands. These troops passed us and en 
 tered the woods and the battle, and I am proud 
 to say that their fighting was superb. They 
 fought with a steadiness and determination 
 that could not be excelled. The whole army 
 honored them. After Spottsylvania I never 
 heard a word spoken against the heavy-artillery 
 men whom Grant summoned from Washington 
 to make good his losses in the Wilderness. 
 
 The movable fight dragged along until May 
 1 2th. We fought here. We charged there. 
 We accomplished nothing. But early on the 
 morning of May I2th the Second Corps carried 
 by assault the Confederate works held by John 
 ston s division of Ewell s corps, capturing about 
 three thousand five hundred prisoners and thirty 
 guns. Our troops caught the battle-exhausted 
 Confederates asleep in their blankets. The 
 Confederate line was broken. Their army was 
 cut in twain. But it amounted to nothing. If 
 the advantage had been intelligently followed 
 up, it might have had decisive results. As it 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 8/ 
 
 was, many thousands of enlisted men were 
 killed and wounded in a furious fight which 
 lasted all day, and the next morning we found 
 that the Confederates had fortified a line in 
 rear of the captured works, and our losses of 
 thousands of brave men resulted in nothing 
 but the capture of twenty guns (ten of these 
 guns which were captured by the Second Corps 
 were wrested from them by Swell s men in the 
 fights that ensued). 
 
 That night a wounded Second Corps soldier 
 came into our battery, and joined me at the 
 fire. He asked for food. I had plenty, and as 
 the man s right arm was stiff from a wound, I 
 told him I would cook a supper for him if he 
 would wait. He greedily accepted the invita 
 tion. Soon I had a mess of pork and hardtack 
 frying and coffee boiling, and as I had that day 
 found a haversack truth is that its owner, a 
 heavy-artillery man, was asleep when I found it 
 which contained a can of condensed milk and 
 half a loaf of light bread, the wounded soldier 
 and I had a feast. After supper we smoked 
 and talked. He told, in vivid, descriptive lan 
 guage, of the day s fighting, of the capture of 
 the guns, and of the strength of the Confeder 
 ate intrenchments. Soberly he said * 
 
88 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 " The Army of the Potomac has always 
 longed for a fighting general one who would 
 fight, and fight, and fight, and now it has got 
 him. But," he added, " he does not seem to 
 know that Lee s veteran infantry cannot be 
 driven out of skilfully constructed earthworks 
 by direct assault. I am afraid he will waste 
 the army by dashing it against works that 
 cannot be captured. The enlisted men have 
 been sacrificed to-day," he added sadly, "and 
 unlike the results in the Wilderness fight, we 
 have killed but few Confederates, except at 
 the captured forts." 
 
 This was the first complaint I heard against 
 Grant. I heard plenty before the campaign 
 closed. 
 
 " The Wilderness," said my wounded guest, 
 " was a private s battle. The men fought as 
 best they could, and fought stanchly. The 
 generals could not see the ground, and if they 
 were on the front line, they could not have 
 seen their troops. The enlisted men did not 
 expect much generalship to be shown. All 
 they expected was to have the battle-torn por 
 tions of the line fed with fresh troops. There 
 was no chance for a display of military talent 
 on our side, only for the enlisted men to fight, 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 89 
 
 and fight, and fight ; and that they did cheer 
 fully and bravely. Here the Confederates are 
 strongly intrenched, and it was the duty of 
 our generals to know the strength of the 
 works (we all knew the dogged fighting ca 
 pacity of their defenders) before they launched 
 the army against them." The intelligent 
 private s criticism of the military capacity of 
 our generals struck me as eminently correct, 
 and made me thoughtful. My guest was 
 tired, and first exacting a promise from me 
 that I would give him his breakfast, he lay on 
 his back behind a tree, and after I had bathed 
 his wounded arm he slept. 
 
 We marched to and fro. The infantry were 
 almost constantly engaged in feeling of the 
 Confederate lines to find a weak place, and 
 finding all points stanchly defended. The 
 artillery was pleasantly employed in burying 
 good iron in Confederate earthworks. The 
 list of our killed and wounded and missing 
 grew steadily and rapidly, longer and longer, 
 as their cartridge-boxes grew lighter and light 
 er. One day a brisk fight was going on in 
 front of us. We were ordered to the top of 
 a hill and told to fire over our infantry into the 
 edge of the woods, where the Confederates lay. 
 
90 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 The battery swung into action. Below us, in 
 the open, was a pasture field. In it were two 
 batteries and a line of infantry. The former 
 were noisily engaged ; the latter were not do 
 ing much of any thing. The Confederates 
 were behind an earthwork that stood, shad 
 owed by trees, in the edge of the forest, and it 
 was evident that they meant to stay there. 
 Our infantry charged, and at some points 
 they entered the edge of the woods, out of 
 which they speedily came, followed by a dis 
 orderly and heavy line of Confederate skirm 
 ishers. The batteries in the open were skil 
 fully handled and admirably served, but it was 
 a matter of a very short time for them. As 
 soon as our infantry got out of range in a 
 ravine, the Confederate skirmishers dropped 
 prone on the ground, disappeared behind trees, 
 sank into holes, squatted behind bushes, and 
 turned their attention to the Union batteries, 
 which were within rifle range of the skirmishers, 
 and the guns were almost instantly driven from 
 the field, leaving many horses, and men clad 
 in blue, lying on the ground. Then the Con 
 federate skirmishers ran back to their earth 
 works and clambered over. The battery 
 I served with was firing three-inch percussion 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 9 1 
 
 bolts at the Confederate line and doing no 
 harm. One of my comrades spoke to me 
 across the gun, saying : " Grant and Meade 
 are over there," nodding his head to indicate 
 the direction in which I was to look. I turned 
 my head and saw Grant and Meade sitting on 
 the ground under a large tree. Both of them 
 were watching the fight which was going on in 
 the pasture field. Occasionally they turned 
 their glasses to the distant wood, above which 
 small clouds of white smoke marked the burst 
 ing shells and the extent of the battle. Across 
 the woods that lay behind the pasture, and be- 
 hind the bare ridge that formed, the horizon, 
 and well within the Confederate lines, a dense 
 column of dust arose, its head slowly moving 
 to our left. I saw Meade call Grant s attention 
 to this dust column, which was raised either 
 by a column of Confederate infantry or by a 
 wagon train. We ceased firing, and sat on the 
 ground around the guns watching our general, 
 and the preparations that were being made for 
 another charge. Grant had a cigar in his 
 mouth. His face was immovable and expres 
 sionless. His eyes lacked lustre. He sat 
 quietly and watched the scene as though he 
 was an uninterested spectator. Meade was 
 
92 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 nervous, and his hand constantly sought his 
 face, which it stroked. Staff officers rode 
 furiously up and down the hill carrying orders 
 and information. The infantry below us in 
 the ravine formed for another charge. Then 
 they started on the run for the Confederate 
 earthworks, cheering loudly the while. We 
 sprang to our guns and began firing rapidly 
 over their heads at the edge of the woods. It 
 was a fine display of accurate artillery practice, 
 but, as the Confederates lay behind thick earth 
 works, and were veterans not to be shaken by 
 shelling the outside of a dirt bank behind 
 which they .lay secure, the fire resulted in 
 emptying our limber chests, and in the remark 
 able discovery that three-inch percussion shells 
 could not be relied upon to perform the work 
 of a steam shovel. Our infantry advanced 
 swiftly, but not with the vim they had dis 
 played a week previous ; and when they got 
 within close rifle range of the works, they were 
 struck by a storm of rifle-balls and canister that 
 smashed the front line to flinders. They broke 
 for cover, leaving the ground thickly strewed 
 with dead and dying men. The second line of 
 battle did not attempt to make an assault, but 
 returned to the ravine. Grant s face never 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 93 
 
 changed its expression. He sat impassive and 
 smoked steadily, and watched the short-lived 
 battle and decided defeat without displaying 
 emotion. Meade betrayed great anxiety. The 
 fight over, the generals arose and walked back 
 to their horses, mounted and rode briskly away, 
 followed by their staff. No troops cheered 
 them. None evinced the slightest enthusiasm. 
 The enlisted men looked curiously at Grant, 
 and after he had disappeared they talked of 
 him, and of the dead and wounded men who 
 lay in the pasture field ; and all of them said 
 just what they thought, as was the wont of 
 American volunteers. This was the only time 
 that I saw either Grant or Meade under fire 
 during the campaign, and then they were with 
 in range of rifled cannon only. 
 
 Toward evening of the eighth day s fighting 
 a furious attack was made on our right by 
 Ewell s corps. This attack was repulsed, and 
 then the battle died down to picket-firing and 
 sharpshooting. Now and then a battery would 
 fire a few shot into a Confederate earthwork, 
 just to let its defenders know that we still lived. 
 We were strongly intrenched, and it was evi 
 dent to the enlisted men that the battles fought 
 around Spottsylvania belonged to the past. 
 
94 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 We estimated our losses up to this time at 
 from forty-five thousand to fifty thousand men, 
 or about two fifths of the men whom Grant 
 took across the Rapidan. I slept from 6 P.M. 
 of the eighth day s fighting until 2 P.M. of the 
 ninth day s fighting. I made up the losses of 
 sleep incurred during the eight days and nights 
 of almost continuous fighting and marching. 
 This sleep was so profound that I barely 
 heard the guns as they occasionally roared 
 over my head. I was easy in my mind, as I 
 knew that some hollow-eyed comrade would 
 awaken me if I was needed at the guns or if we 
 moved. 
 
 I breakfasted about 3 P.M., and then, feeling 
 frisky, volunteered to go to a spring a quarter 
 of a mile to the rear, the first portion of the 
 path to which was commanded by Confederate 
 rifles. The crew of the gun I belonged to 
 loaded me down with their empty canteens, 
 and I ran, to avoid the sharpshooter s fire, 
 to the protection of the forest behind us. 
 There I saw many soldiers. Hollow-eyed, 
 tired-looking men they were, too, but not 
 " coffee-boilers," lying on the ground sleeping 
 soundly. They had sought the comparative 
 safety of the forest to sleep. Near the spring, 
 
FIGHTING AROUND SPOTTSYLVANIA. 95 
 
 which rose in a dense thicket through which a 
 spring run flowed, the shade was thick and the 
 forest gloomy. The water in the spring had 
 been roiled, so I searched for another higher 
 up the run. While searching for it I saw a 
 colonel of infantry put on his war paint. It 
 was a howling farce in one act one brief act 
 of not more than twenty seconds duration, but 
 the fun of the world was crowded into it. 
 This blond, bewhiskered brave sat safely be 
 hind a large oak tree. He looked around 
 quickly. His face hardened with resolution. 
 He took a cartridge out of his vest pocket, tore 
 the paper with his strong white teeth, spilled 
 the powder into his right palm, spat on it, and 
 then, first casting a quick glance around to see 
 if he was observed, he rubbed the moistened 
 powder on his face and hands, and then dust- 
 coated the war paint. Instantly he was trans 
 formed from a trembling coward who lurked 
 behind a tree into an exhausted brave taking 
 a little well-earned repose. I laughed silently 
 at the spectacle, and filled my canteens at a 
 spring I found, and then rejoined my com 
 rades, and together we laughed at and then 
 drank to the health of the blonde warrior. 
 That night I slept and dreamed of comic plays 
 
g6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 and extravagant burlesques; but in the wildest 
 of dream vagaries there was no picture that at 
 all compared with the actual one I had seen in 
 the forest. That colonel is yet alive. I saw 
 him two years ago. 
 
VI. 
 
 THE FLANK MOVEMENT FROM SPOTTSYLVANIA 
 TO THE NORTH ANNA RIVER. 
 
 FOR fifteen days we had been fighting in 
 the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania, 
 and it was with great joy that the enlisted men 
 of the Second Corps received on the afternoon 
 of May 20, 1864, the order to withdraw from 
 our foul intrenchments and march to the rear. 
 Other troops occupied our earthworks as we 
 marched out. Our officers assured us that we 
 were to have a rest. We needed it. Fifteen 
 days of battle fifteen days of continuous and 
 bloody fighting had exhausted us physically, 
 and had unstrung our nerves. We fell back 
 to a piece of woods, and prepared to enjoy 
 a night s unbroken sleep. The guns were 
 parked. The picket rope was stretched, and 
 some horses were tied to it, when a head- 
 quarter s orderly rode briskly into our camp 
 and delivered an order to our captain. The 
 97 
 
98 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 enlisted men ceased their preparations for 
 making a night of it, and watched the orderly. 
 The captain read the order, receipted for it and 
 then ordered the chests of the gun limbers to 
 be rilled with ammunition, and supplemented 
 that with another, commanding the chief of 
 caissons to take them to the rear to the am 
 munition train and fill them. The enlisted 
 men did not relish these orders. They sharply 
 indicated that we were not to have a long, un 
 broken sleep. In a few minutes the battery 
 quartermaster came into camp, accompanied 
 by his wagons, which were loaded with forage 
 and rations. The line sergeants loudly called : 
 "Fall in for rations!" and the gun detach 
 ments marched to the wagons, where six days 
 rations were issued to us. Sacks of grain were 
 thrown on the ground, preparatory to being 
 loaded on the limbers and caissons. To the 
 right, to the left of us, heavy six-mule teams 
 rolled into the infantry camps, and the soldiers 
 gathered around them with open haversacks, 
 which were speedily filled. Men who were 
 bathing at a run which flowed near us, or who 
 were seated shirt in hand on the ground, en 
 deavoring to pick the vermin off of that gar 
 ment, put on their clothing and hurried to the 
 
THE FLANK MOVEMENT, 99 
 
 wagons. Then other wagons, which chucked 
 heavily into ruts, rolled into the infantry 
 camps, and chests filled with ammunition were 
 thrown out and ripped open, and the soldiers 
 helped themselves. Cartridge-boxes were filled 
 until they sagged heavily on the supporting 
 belts. 
 
 After eating an early supper I walked over 
 to the nearest infantry regiment, and found 
 most of the men lying on the ground, sleeping 
 soundly by their stacked muskets. A few 
 groups of earnest, intelligent soldiers sat under 
 trees studying the war maps of Virginia which 
 were open before them. These men told me 
 that six days rations and generous rations, 
 too had been issued to them, and that every 
 enlisted man had forty rounds of ammunition 
 in his cartridge-box and twenty in his pockets. 
 I sat with these men for an hour. We talked 
 of the campaign, and studied the maps, and 
 finally concluded that the Second Corps was to 
 march that night to our left, and attempt to 
 get around the Confederate right. Not a man 
 of the group I was with believed that the move 
 ment would be successful. We knew, and the 
 maps showed, that the Confederates had the 
 shortest line to march on, and we had heard 
 
100 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 from cavalry privates who had ridden south on 
 raids or who had operated on the flanks of the 
 army, that the important strategic points and 
 natural lines of defence that lay in the region 
 intervening between us and Richmond had all 
 been carefully fortified. But whether the 
 movement would be successful or not, it was 
 the only thing to be done, unless it were to re 
 turn to the camps north of the Rapidan. Every 
 intelligent enlisted .man in the Army of the 
 Potomac knew that we could not wrest the Con 
 federate intrenchments at Spottsylvania from 
 Lee s veteran infantry. 
 
 Returning to the battery, I found many of 
 the cannoneers studying war maps, with which 
 we light-artillery men had abundantly supplied 
 ourselves, and earnestly endeavoring to fathom 
 Grant s plans. I had indulged in this military 
 pastime with the infantry soldiers, and, when 
 my comrades asked me to join them, I declined 
 to waste further time in the sport, and spread 
 my blankets under a tree on the vermin-in 
 fested ground, and was asleep instantly, to be 
 awakened just as I was winning a great battle, 
 by the drivers hitching in their horses. I 
 packed up, asked a sergeant what time it was, 
 and was told that it was about midnight. There 
 
THE FLANK 
 
 were no bugle calls that night Indeed, I heard 
 no music, not even the tap of a drum. Silently 
 the battery rolled off of our camp ground. We 
 could hear the solid tread, tread, tread of un 
 seen infantry as they marched by. All around 
 us the air hummed and vibrated with life. 
 Murmurs as of reeds whisperingly greeting the 
 flowing sea filled the air. We came to a broad 
 road which showed white in the night, and 
 along which the Second Corps were streaming 
 at a swinging gait, with their arms at will. We 
 turned into the road and marched alongside of 
 these men. How they growled ! How they 
 swore ! We, too, growled and marched, and 
 growled and swore, and grumbled and enjoyed 
 life right savagely. About two o clock in the 
 morning we heard a noise in the forest to our 
 right, and then a couple of rifle shots rang out 
 sharply. Instantly the column halted. The 
 infantry faced to the right, and crowded close 
 to the cannon. A score of men sprang over the 
 guns, and dashed through the forest in the 
 direction of the sound we had heard. The 
 rifles of the soldiers crowding us were raised to 
 their shoulders. 
 
 " Lie down ! lie down ! " they whispered to us. 
 
 We unlimbered the guns, but had not surfi- 
 
,!<) &$Q(gj8T&tfS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 cient space to swing them into battery, so 
 closely did the infantry press around us. 
 
 " Lie down ! Get out of our line of fire ! 
 Lie down ! " whispered a soldier, whose eyes 
 blazed with excitement, to me and to my com 
 rades. 
 
 We crouched low around the gun-trails, and 
 waited. After the column halted I did not hear 
 an officer give a command. The enlisted men 
 knew what to do, and did it instantly and with 
 out orders. It was an impressive sight that I 
 saw above me : two lines of veteran infantry, 
 with rifles almost aimed, with set faces and 
 blazing eyes, gazing intently into the darkness 
 of a dense forest in search of an unseen enemy 
 whom we thought was lurking there. So pro 
 found was the silence that I could hear my 
 heart beat. Soon we heard the voices of the 
 skirmishers, who had rushed into the woods, 
 calling lowly, but distinctly, as they returned : 
 
 " There is nothing there. Don t fire ! don t 
 fire ! We are coming back." They rejoined the 
 battle-line, which faced into column, and, lim 
 bering up, we resumed the march. But I did 
 not understand the two rifle shots, and I did 
 not like the way in which the battery got 
 jammed on the road. 
 
THE FLANK MOVEMENT. 1 03 
 
 The night wore away. Morning came, and 
 we cooked breakfast at fires made of fence 
 rails. We were in the best agricultural region 
 that I had seen in Virginia. Many negro slaves 
 were working in the fields. Some of the slaves 
 I did not quit their work to look at us. I saw 
 none drop their tools and hail us with vocifer- 
 us shouts as liberators and eagerly join us, as 
 had been led to believe they would. 
 Many of the farm-houses we passed were 
 mansions built of brick, and around which piaz 
 zas ran. On these women and children, and 
 old, white-haired men stood in silent groups, 
 and looked intently at us. I saw no young 
 men, no white men fit for war, around any of 
 these farm-houses. There were many barns and 
 sheds and groups of negro quarters. We, the 
 ever-hungry, predatory enlisted men, quickly 
 discovered that we were marching through a 
 corn- and tobacco and stock-raising country, and 
 we raided tobacco barns in a quiet manner, and 
 killed some sheep and many chickens, and much 
 food was stolen from the farm-houses. I paid a 
 pale-faced woman, whose little children clung 
 to her skirts as she stood in her kitchen door 
 appealing to the Union soldiers not to strip her 
 of stores as she had children to feed, $2 in 
 
104 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 greenbacks for a piece of sweet bacon, which I 
 had found in a barn, where an aged negro stood, 
 solemnly assuring the predatory soldiers that 
 there was not a bite of food on the place. This 
 at a large brick house a mile or two outside of 
 Bowling Green. 
 
 Before noon we came to the village of Bowl 
 ing Green, where many pretty girls stood at 
 cottage windows or doors, and even as close to 
 the despised Yankees as the garden gates, and 
 looked scornfully at us as we marched through 
 the pretty town to kill their fathers and broth 
 ers. There was one very attractive girl, black- 
 eyed and curly-haired, and clad in a scanty 
 calico gown, who stood by a well in a house 
 yard. She looked so neat, so fresh, so ladylike 
 and pretty, that I ran through the open gate 
 and asked her if I might fill my canteen with 
 water from the well. And she, the haughty 
 Virginia maiden, refused to notice me. She 
 calmly looked through me and over me, and 
 never by the slightest sign acknowledged my 
 presence ; but I filled my canteen, and drank 
 her health. I liked her spirit. 
 
 It was a weary march, but a march during 
 which there was no straggling. We could look 
 back from hill tops and see the long steel-tipped 
 
THE FLANK MOVEMENT. 10$ 
 
 column stretching for miles behind us. There 
 was some anxiety among the enlisted men, but 
 not much, as we were confident that we would 
 not be called upon to fight more than half of 
 Lee s army, if we had to fight at all, and we be 
 lieved that the Second Corps, which we judged 
 to number 30,000 men, could whip an equal 
 number of Confederates in the open. At least 
 we could try it, and a fight of that character 
 would have been an agreeable change from as 
 saulting earthworks. At noon we halted for 
 dinner, and spent an hour or two in cooking 
 and eating, and in lying on the ground talking 
 and smoking the good tobacco we had stolen, 
 and in sleeping. 
 
 Again we marched. By the middle of the 
 afternoon one of my comrades called my atten 
 tion to a dust column which rose away off to 
 our right behind the crest of a ridge, and which 
 moved parallel with us. The news spread up 
 and down the column that we had been out 
 marched, and that wherever we stopped there 
 we would find Longstreet s corps. How did we 
 know that Longstreet s soldiers were to oppose 
 us ? I cannot tell. But I record the fact that 
 we did know it, as an instance of the accuracy 
 of the information the enlisted men of the 
 
106 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Army of the Potomac possessed. That after 
 noon I dropped behind the battery to talk to 
 some country boys who were serving in an in 
 fantry regiment boys who were raised in 
 Columbia County, New York, and who lived on 
 farms that surrounded my family s homestead. 
 To them I expressed my anxiety at being so 
 far in advance of the main army. I was prompt 
 ly reassured and encouraged by a young line 
 sergeant, who said : 
 
 " That dust you see over yonder is kicked up 
 by Longstreet s men. They were on the Con 
 federate right at Spottsylvania. As soon as 
 the Confederates missed the Second Corps 
 from the battle-line, they knew that we had 
 been dispatched on a flanking movement, and 
 Lee started Longstreet toward Richmond to 
 intercept us. Now we have been fighting 
 Longstreet s corps for two weeks and better, 
 and we all know that he has not more than 
 fifteen thousand soldiers. The Confederates 
 are not sufficiently numerous to fight us in the 
 open. Longstreet will not attack the Second 
 Corps unless he is heavily reinforced. There 
 lies our only danger. See here, Frank," he 
 said, as he laid his hand on my shoulder to call 
 my attention away from the dust column. " See 
 
THE FLANK MOVEMENT. IO/ 
 
 here. Listen to a little common-sense. Lee 
 knows that the Second Corps has been detached 
 from our main army. He knows that Grant 
 has not more than sixty-five thousand men re 
 maining with him. " Now, my boy," he solemnly 
 said, " if Lee had a sufficient number of men in 
 his entire army to enable him to whip Grant s 
 sixty-five thousand, he would have jumped on 
 him savagely the very instant he discovered 
 that the Second Corps had been detached. The 
 fact that he has not sufficient men to whip 
 sixty-five-thousand Union soldiers is plainly in 
 dicated by that dust column. If Lee had fifty 
 thousand men he would probably risk a battle 
 with Grant s weakened army. He has not got 
 them. The only danger we are in, is that Lee 
 may be marching with his entire army to jump 
 on the Second Corps. If that is his plan, and 
 I think it is not, he had better put it into exe 
 cution speedily, because in less than an hour 
 after we halt this evening we will be intrenched, 
 and once behind earthworks the Second Corps 
 can whip the entire Confederate army." The 
 line sergeant clearly expressed the thoughts 
 and feelings of all the intelligent volunteers. I 
 have quoted him to illustrate the accuracy of 
 military reasoning that enabled the enlisted 
 
108 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 men of American blood to correctly judge of 
 the state of the campaign. How did the men 
 acquire their information ? From prisoners 
 whom they captured, from fellow-soldiers serv 
 ing in the cavalry, from negroes, and above all 
 from the " news-gatherers," the soldiers who 
 walked the battle-lines in the night. 
 
 Morally strengthened and braced up by the 
 sergeant s talk, I ran ahead and rejoined my 
 gun. Toward evening I saw troops defiling to 
 the left of the road ahead of us, and as soon as 
 they halted dirt began to fly and intrenchments 
 to rise out of the ground. My battery was di 
 rected to camp on a slight elevation, which a 
 staff officer indicated with a gleaming sabre. 
 We swung into battery. To our front and 
 right, distant about a thousand yards, was a 
 large white store, and near it stood a couple of 
 smaller buildings. The men of Battery K, 
 Fourth United States Artillery, which stood in 
 battery to our left, manned a gun, and almost 
 instantly a shell screamed through the air and 
 burst close to a group of Confederate scouts, 
 who sat on their horses in front of the white 
 store watching us. They disappeared, and I 
 saw no other Confederate soldiers at Milford 
 Station. Our line of .defence was quickly 
 
THF FLANK MOVEMENT. IOQ 
 
 chosen, and at once the men began to fortify 
 it. Here they pushed the line out, there they 
 drew it back, taking advantage of the ground 
 and fortifying it as their experience had taught 
 them was best. In an hour a line of earth 
 works was thrown up which the Second Corps 
 could have held for days against all the Confed 
 erates whom Lee could have massed to the as 
 sault. To our left, distant about eight hundred 
 yards, and in a point of heavy oak timber, lay 
 an Irish brigade tough, jovial fellows, and 
 stanch fighters. They built the crack intrench- 
 ment of the line. 
 
 The hard marching of the flank movement 
 was over. That night we slept, and the next 
 day we slept again and rested. North Anna 
 was ahead of us. The Wilderness and Spott- 
 sylvania, where so many of our comrades lay 
 dead on the ground, were of the past. 
 
VII. 
 
 STUDYING CONFEDERATE EARTHWORKS AT 
 NORTH ANNA. 
 
 MAY 23, 1864. The Army of the Potomac 
 approached the North Anna River. 
 In front of the Second Corps (Hancock s) was 
 the Chesterfield wagon bridge, and a mile below 
 a railroad bridge spanned the river. The wagon 
 bridge was protected by a heavy but small 
 earthwork on one side of the river. The rear 
 of this work was open. It was full of men, but 
 there were no guns in it. In front of it we 
 could plainly see the Confederate pickets lying 
 in their rifle-pits. The railroad bridge was pro 
 tected by a heavy two-gun fortification stand 
 ing on the other side of the river. A mile 
 beyond the river the main line of Confederates 
 lay in their trenches. While our troops were 
 deploying, the battery I belonged to was or 
 dered to take position on the crest of a ridge 
 that overlooked the railroad bridge earthwork, 
 
CONFEDERATE EARTHWORKS. Ill 
 
 and to begin firing at once. The officer who 
 brought our captain this order dwelt strongly 
 on the necessity of haste in getting into action, 
 as the infantry, so he said, were to assault both 
 earthworks. I smiled at the absurd statement 
 that tired, exhausted infantry were to assault an 
 earthwork that lay on the other side of a deep 
 stream ; but the pace at which the battery 
 moved caused the smile to fade from my face as 
 I ran at the side of my gun. We swung into 
 action on the crest of the ridge. The sponge 
 staffs were unchained, and the gunners quickly 
 sprang too and fro, in and out, from the guns, 
 and we opened the battle as far as the Second 
 Corps was concerned. There was a loud noise 
 behind us. I looked back as I sprang clear of 
 the muzzle of the gun I was serving and saw 
 other batteries galloping toward us. Bugles 
 were blown, officers shouted, and the guns went 
 into battery alongside of us, until about thirty 
 pieces surmounted the crest. Then a brigade 
 of infantry came marching up to support us. 
 There were not a sufficient number of Confed 
 erates on our side of the river, outside of the 
 Chesterfield works, to have captured a beehive, 
 let alone thirty pieces of artillery. We fired 
 rapidly and accurately at the sand-bank behind 
 
1 1 2 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 which the Confederate artillerists lurked, and 
 with the usual effect, of doing nothing. I 
 saw shells burst all over the work and tiny 
 clouds of dust rise from it, as though it were a 
 big puff ball which we occasionally and gently 
 squeezed. The rebel guns replied slowly. 
 Thirty guns against two old howitzers ! It was 
 rather a one-sided fight, and the inequality was 
 calculated to make the service of the howitzers 
 rather slow, but still they were served. We 
 could see the Confederate gunners rise out of 
 the ground, could see them load and then sink 
 out of sight, could see the gunner bend over 
 the piece and then raise his hand to No. 4 ; in 
 stantly a cloud of smoke would shoot out of 
 the gun, and from it a black ball would rise and 
 come screeching toward us. We were, as I 
 said, firing rapidly, and shell were bursting over 
 the Confederate earthwork at the rate of about 
 three in two seconds. We had got the range 
 to an inch. The plain beyond the work was 
 furrowed and torn with shell. The works must 
 have quivered with the steady and heavy 
 shocks. I can imagine no hotter place than 
 that little fort was. I tired of my work, and 
 asked a spare man to take the sponge while I 
 rested. He cheerfully did so, and I sat on the 
 
CONFEDERA TE EARTHWORKS. 1 1 3 
 
 ground to one side of the battery, and filled a 
 pipe with plug tobacco, and smoked and 
 watched the Confederate earthwork through my 
 field-glass. I had about lost interest in the one 
 sided affair, when I saw an officer on a milk- 
 white horse ride forth from the woods in the 
 rear of the Confederate work. Confident that 
 he would be torn to bits by shells, I dropped 
 my pipe, and glued my glass on him and 
 waited for the tragedy. He trotted briskly 
 over the plain where shell were thickly bursting, 
 and into the fort. I saw him hand a paper to 
 the officer in command of the work. He sat 
 calmly on his horse, and talked and gesticulated 
 as quietly as though he were on dress parade. 
 My heart went out to that man. I hoped he 
 would not be killed. I wished I had the aiming 
 of the guns. He lifted his hand in salute to 
 the visor of his cap. He turned his white 
 horse and rode slowly across the open ground, 
 where shot and shell were thickly coursing. 
 Dust rose above him. Tiny clouds of smoke 
 almost hid him from view. Shot struck the 
 ground and skipped past him, but he did not 
 urge his horse out of a walk. He rode as 
 though lost in meditation and deaf to the up 
 roar that raged around him. He rode into the 
 
1 14 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 woods, disappeared in the timber, and was safe. 
 With a " Thank God that that brave man was 
 not killed/ I rejoined my gun and resumed 
 work at the fruitless task of trying to batter 
 down a sand-bank. 
 
 Below us to our right, infantry had taken 
 position in a sheltered ravine. There were two 
 thousand men lying down there. There were 
 a few men along the crest of the ravine on the 
 side next to the Chesterfield bridge head, and 
 they continually made motions to their com 
 rades who were lying in the bottom. Farther 
 to the right were two sections of artillery in 
 action. They were firing rapidly at the bridge 
 head, which did not answer. We pounded away 
 at our fort for a couple of hours longer, then, 
 about six o clock, I heard the familiar charging 
 cheer. Looking to the right I saw a heavy line 
 of blue-coated infantry move swiftly forth from 
 a forest, and rapidly run at the fort in a fairly 
 good line. The Confederate pickets fired and 
 then ran to their fortification, which instantly 
 began to smoke in jets and puffs and curls as 
 an immense pudding, and men in the blue- 
 coated line fell headlong, or backward, or sank 
 into little heaps. The charging infantry, Price s 
 and Eagan s brigades of the Second Corps, were 
 
CONFEDERA TE EAR TH WORKS. 1 1 5 
 
 accompanied by an officer on horseback, who, 
 in the most gallant manner rode his horse up 
 and down the charging line and bravely en 
 couraged his men, and excited the admiration 
 of the artillerymen who saw him. Then the 
 brigade in the ravine stood up and remained 
 quiet. They were to make the second assault 
 in case the first failed I suppose ; but the first 
 did not fail. They swept on and ran over the 
 earthwork, out of which the Confederate in 
 fantry ran, and streamed across the bridge. Our 
 colors were on the work. We cheered, and our 
 supports cheered. And then a fierce charging 
 yell floated to us from the right, and smoke 
 began to curl above the portion of the line held 
 by the Fifth Corps. Then there was real fight 
 ing going on, not driving two hundred or four 
 hundred men out of an earthwork by launching 
 several thousand picked troops against them. 
 We could see a part of the fight the Fifth 
 Corps was engaged in, and could see that they 
 had a hard struggle. It was as gallant a fight 
 as ever I saw ; but the Fifth Corps got decided 
 ly the worst of it, and came mighty near being 
 driven into the river. We were very anxious 
 about this fighting, as we always were about 
 heavy fighting that we did not share in. The 
 
1 1 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 unseen danger is the alarming one to the en 
 listed men. Before midnight two privates of 
 the Twentieth Maine Infantry, then serving 
 with Griffin s division of the Fifth Corps, came 
 into the battery to gather news. They told us 
 that the Fifth Corps had been surprised ; that 
 they had been ordered at five o clock to biv 
 ouac on the line they held, and that at that 
 hour General Warren was soundly sleeping in a 
 house north of the river and near the Jericho 
 ford. They said that the adjutant of their 
 regiment had twice crossed the river to carry 
 word to Warren from General Griffin that the 
 Confederates were massing for the attack, and 
 that the first time he was unable to see Warren, 
 being refused admittance to his room, and that 
 on the second visit he was so vehement in his 
 demands that he was admitted to the presence 
 of the general, who snubbed him, and told him 
 that the rebels would not attack ; and after 
 ordering the troops to camp on the line, he 
 turned over and slept. The adjutant returned 
 to Griffin and reported, and had hardly done so 
 when the Confederate assault was delivered. 
 These intelligent Yankee infantrymen assured 
 us that this story of the negligence of Warren 
 was true, and that Griffin s division had saved 
 
CONFEDERA TE EAR TH WORKS. 1 1 7 
 
 the Fifth Corps from rout when the battle 
 opened, and that later, when Hill massed 
 against Cutler s division and broke it with a 
 savage blow, Colonel McCoy, with the Eighty- 
 third Pennsylvania, caught the Confederate 
 charging column in flank and whipped them 
 and captured over one thousand prisoners. 
 " And haggard, hungry-looking men they are, 
 too," said one of our Yankee visitors. " Boys," 
 he added impressively, " we are not living on 
 the fat of the land ; but I looked into the haver 
 sacks of some of Hill s men as they passed to 
 the rear, and none of them had more than a 
 couple of handfuls of corn-meal in their canvas 
 sacks. How they fight on corn-meal straight 
 is more than I can understand," he added re 
 flectively. Our visitors arose, cast their eyes 
 around in search of a full haversack, and, seeing 
 that we regarded their inquisitive glances with 
 hostile eyes, they laughed and walked off, first 
 inviting us to visit them when they got into 
 permanent camp and eat doughnuts. 
 
 Next morning we crossed the river. We 
 passed the fort which we had bombarded the 
 previous day. Two men with shovels could 
 have repaired the damage it had suffered in two 
 hours, and we had buried tons of good iron in 
 
1 1 8 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 it. As soon as we drew away from the river 
 bank and reached a point where we could plain 
 ly see the Confederate lines, we saw that Lee s 
 soldiers were skilfully intrenched and that the 
 Army of the Potomac could not dislodge them. 
 That fact was instantly comprehended by the 
 enlisted men who inspected the works at close 
 range. We threw up parallel intrenchments 
 and impatiently waited for our generals to dis 
 cover that the position could not be forced. 
 The Confederate line was much shorter than 
 ours, and was shaped like a wide-opened ox 
 bow. They could have supplied troops to any 
 point attacked. Our men shrank from assault 
 ing these works. The pickets had been close 
 to them, and they one and all asserted that the 
 position was impregnable when held by the 
 Army of Northern Virginia. 
 
 One day, as we lay in our earthworks under 
 a sharpshooters fire, I saw a civilian clad in a 
 long linen duster ride toward our battery. I 
 thought he had a queer idea of a pleasure trip. 
 To my great amazement he rode into the bat 
 tery and asked if I were present. I was, and 
 promptly said so. " Well, if you are the man > 
 and I guess you are, here is a package of to 
 bacco your father has sent to you," he said, 
 
CON FED ERA TE EAR TH WORKS. 1 1 Q 
 
 handing me a couple of pounds of plug tobacco. 
 This, under a brisk picket and sharpshooters 
 fire. He dismounted from his horse and stood 
 by his side, and talked to me for a moment or 
 two, and I heartily wished he would go away. 
 He told me that he was a New York Tribune cor- 
 spondent. He smiled, pointed to a couple of 
 dead men, and said, as he raised his eyebrows 
 inquiringly : " Rather warm here, eh ? Sharp 
 shooters got the range, but," looking toward 
 the woods where those murderous men lurked, 
 " it is a long shot." Then he bade me good-by, 
 and coolly mounted and deliberately rode off. 
 
 One day some men of the Fortieth New York 
 Infantry came to my battery to gamble. I took 
 a hand in a game of seven-up for a dollar a cor 
 ner and five on the rubber. We spread a blan 
 ket on the ground behind the earthworks and 
 squatted around it. My partner, a Fortieth 
 New York soldier, was a heavy-jawed light- 
 haired, blue-eyed lad of nineteen, an Albany 
 boy, who played well, and fought well too. He 
 was a wit, and when in the humor would make 
 a whole regiment of sick men laugh. We were 
 a few dollars winners, and he was graphically 
 and humorously describing the brigade of regu 
 lars running against a swamp in the Wilder- 
 
120 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ness, and the mythical conversation between 
 the gray-haired commander and the second 
 lieutenant, just out of West Point, as the old 
 soldier asked if there was any thing in the new 
 books about getting a brigade across a swamp, 
 was delicious. As we laughed the handsome 
 lad fell face down into the blanket and began 
 to vomit blood. We grabbed him, turned him 
 over, tore up his shirt, and saw where a ball 
 had entered his side, cutting a gash instead of 
 a hole. The wounded soldier did not speak. 
 The blood rushed out of his mouth, his eyes 
 glazed, his jaw dropped he was dead. A 
 chance ball had struck the tire of one of the 
 wheels of the No. I gun and glanced forward 
 and killed this delightful comrade. His death 
 ended the game. We put his body alongside 
 of a couple of other dead men and buried the 
 three that night. 
 
 The picket-firing and sharpshooting at North 
 Anna was exceedingly severe and murderous. 
 We were greatly annoyed by it, and as a cam 
 paign cannot be decided by killing a few hun 
 dred enlisted men killing them most unfairly 
 and when, they were of necessity exposed, it 
 did seem as though the sharpshooting pests 
 should have been suppressed. Our sharp- 
 
CONFEDERA TE EAR TH WORKS. 1 2 1 
 
 shooters were as bad as the Confederates, and 
 neither of them were of any account as far as 
 decisive results were obtained. They could 
 sneak around trees or lurk behind stumps, or 
 cower in wells or in cellars, and from the safety 
 of their lairs murder a few men. Put the 
 sharpshooters in battle-line and they were no 
 better, no more effective, than the infantry of 
 the line, and they were not half as decent. 
 There was an unwritten code of honor among 
 the infantry that forbade the shooting of men 
 while attending to the imperative calls of na 
 ture, and these sharpshooting brutes were con 
 stantly violating that rule. I hated sharp 
 shooters, both Confederate and Union, in those 
 days, and I was always glad to see them killed. 
 Before we left North Anna I discovered that 
 our infantry were tired of charging earthworks. 
 The ordinary enlisted men assert that one good 
 man behind an earthwork was equal to three 
 good men outside of it, and that they did not 
 propose to charge many more intrenched lines. 
 Here I first heard savage protests against a 
 continuance of the generalship which consisted 
 in launching good troops against intrenched 
 works which the generals had not inspected. 
 Battle-tried privates came into the battery and 
 
122 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 sneeringly inquired if the corps and army com 
 manders had been to see our line. Of course 
 we replied " No." "Well," said one sergeant 
 of the Pennsylvania reserve, " I have fought in 
 this army for three years, and in no other cam 
 paign have I seen so many general officers shirk 
 as they have in this one. I saw the Confeder 
 ate lines at close range last night," he added, 
 " and they cannot be assaulted with any pros 
 pect of success. If Grant, or Meade, or Han 
 cock, or Warren, or Wright, or Burnside would 
 inspect those works at close range, they w r ould 
 see the folly of staying here, where we are 
 losing two hundred or three hundred men every 
 day by sharpshooters. We ought to get out of 
 here and try it farther down." He but ex 
 pressed what we all thought. At North Anna 
 the rank and file of the Potomac army, the 
 men who did the fighting, and who had been 
 under fire for three weeks, began to grow dis 
 couraged. 
 
 We lay for three days in the trenches at 
 North Anna. Three days of woe and sorrow 
 and hardship. Three days, during which there 
 had been some exceedingly severe fighting, and 
 which had cost us hundreds of men and line 
 officers. How we longed to get away from 
 
CONFEDERA TE EA R TH WORKS. 1 2 3 
 
 North Anna, where we had not the slightest 
 chance of success, and how we feared that 
 Grant would keep sending us to the slaughter ! 
 Joyfully we received the order to march on the 
 night of May 26th. Eagerly the tired troops 
 fell into line behind their foul intrenchments. 
 With pleasure we recrossed the North Anna 
 and resumed the flank movement to the south. 
 That night, after crossing the river, we rested, 
 and had a good night s sleep, undisturbed by 
 picket-firing. We awoke the next morning to 
 find the rest of the army gone, and we started 
 after them, being for the first and last time 
 during the campaign in the rear. Before us, in 
 the distance, rose the swells of Cold Harbor, 
 and we marched steadily and joyfully to our 
 doom. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 
 
 ON the morning of May 28, 1864, the Sec 
 ond Corps crossed the Pamunkey River. 
 Close by the bridge on which we crossed, and 
 to the right of it, under a tree, stood Generals 
 Grant, Meade, and Hancock, and a little back 
 of them was a group of staff officers. Grant 
 looked tired. He was sallow. He held a dead 
 cigar firmly between his teeth. His face was 
 as expressionless as a pine board. He gazed 
 steadily at the enlisted men as they marched 
 by, as though trying to read their thoughts, and 
 they gazed intently at him. He had the power 
 to send us to our deaths, and we were curious 
 to see him. But the men did not evince the 
 slightest enthusiasm. None cheered him, none 
 
 o 
 
 saluted him. Grant stood silently looking at 
 his troops and listening to Hancock, who was 
 talking and gesticulating earnestly. Meade 
 stood by Grant s side and thoughtfully stroked 
 his own face. I stepped from the column and 
 124 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 12$ 
 
 filled my canteens in the Pamunkey River, and 
 looked my fill at the generals and their staffs, 
 and then ran by the marching troops through a 
 gantlet of chaff, as " Go it, artillery," " The ar 
 tillery is advancing," " Hurry to your gun, my 
 son, or the battle will be lost," and similar sar 
 castically good-natured remarks, which were 
 calculated to stimulate my speed. 
 
 During the afternoon we heard considerable 
 firing in front of us, and toward evening we 
 marched over ground where dead cavalrymen 
 were plentifully sprinkled. The blue and the 
 gray lay side by side, and their arms by them. 
 With the Confederates lay muzzle-loading car 
 bines, the ramrods of which worked upward on 
 a swivel hinge fastened near the muzzle of the 
 weapon. It was an awkward arm and far in 
 ferior to the Spencer carbine with which our 
 cavalry was armed. There were ancient and 
 ferocious-looking horse-pistols, such as used to 
 grace the Bowery stage, lying by the dead Con 
 federates. The poverty of the South was 
 plainly shown by the clothing and equipment 
 of her dead. These dead men were hardly stiff 
 when we saw them. All of their pockets had 
 been turned inside out. That night, while 
 searching for fresh, clean water, I found several 
 
126 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 dead cavalrymen in the woods, where they had 
 probably crawled after being wounded. I 
 struck a match so as to see one of these men 
 plainly, and was greatly shocked to see large 
 black beetles eating the corpse. I looked at no 
 more dead men that night. 
 
 The next day the sound of battle arose again. 
 At distant points it would break out furiously 
 and then die down. In our immediate front 
 heavy skirmishing was going on, and wounded 
 men began to drift to the rear in search of hos 
 pitals. They said that there was a stream of 
 water, swamps, and a line of earthworks, behind 
 which lay the Confederate infantry, in our front, 
 and that we could not get to the works. At no 
 time did the fire rise to a battle s volume ; it 
 was simply heavy and continuous skirmishing, 
 in which our men fought at great disadvantage, 
 and were severely handled. Finding that these 
 works were too strong to be taken by assault, 
 Grant moved the army to the left. On June 
 1st we heard heavy fighting to our left, and 
 that night we learned that a portion of the 
 Sixth Corps, aided by ten thousand of Butler s 
 men from Bermuda Hundreds, had forced the 
 Chickahominy River at a loss of three thousand 
 men, and that they held the ground they had 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 12? 
 
 taken. The news-gatherers said that the Con 
 federates were strongly intrenched, and evi 
 dently had no intention of fighting in the open. 
 We knew that a bloody battle was close at 
 hand, and instead of being elated the enlisted 
 men were depressed in spirits. That night the 
 old soldiers told the story of the campaign under 
 McClellan in 1862. They had fought over 
 some of the ground we were then camped on. 
 Some of the men were sad, some indifferent ; 
 some so tired of the strain on their nerves that 
 they wished they were dead and their troubles 
 over. The infantry knew that they were to 
 be called upon to assault perfect earthworks, 
 and though they had resolved to do their best, 
 there was no eagerness for the fray, and the 
 impression among the intelligent soldiers was 
 that the task cut out for them was more than 
 men could accomplish. 
 
 On June 2d the Second Corps moved from 
 the right to the left. We saw many wounded 
 men that day. We crossed a swamp or marched 
 around a swamp, and the battery I belonged to 
 parked in a ravine. There were some old houses 
 on our line of march, but not a chicken or a 
 sheep or a cow to be seen. The land was 
 wretchedly poor. The night of June 2d was 
 
128 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 spent in getting into battle-line. There was 
 considerable confusion as the infantry marched 
 in the darkness. In our front we could see 
 tongues of flames dart forth from Confederate 
 rifles as their pickets fired in the direction of 
 the noise they heard, and their bullets sang 
 high above our heads. My battery went into 
 position just back of a crest of a hill. Behind 
 us was an alder swamp, where good drinking 
 water gushed forth from many springs. Be 
 fore we slept we talked with some of the 
 Seventh New York Heavy Artillery, and 
 found that they were sad of heart. They knew 
 that they were to go into the fight early 
 in the morning, and they dreaded the work. 
 The whole army seemed to be greatly de 
 pressed the night before the battle of Cold 
 Harbor. 
 
 Before daybreak of June 3d the light-artillery 
 men were aroused. We ate our scanty break 
 fast and took our positions around the guns. 
 All of us were loath to go into action. In 
 front of us we could hear the murmurs of in 
 fantry, but it was not sufficiently light to see 
 them. We stood leaning against the cool guns, 
 or resting easily on the ponderous wheels, and 
 gazed intently into the darkness in the direction 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 1 29 
 
 of the Confederate earthworks. How slowly 
 dawn came ! Indistinctly we saw moving 
 figures. Some on foot rearward bound, cow 
 ards hunting for safety ; others on horseback 
 riding to and fro near where we supposed the 
 battle-lines to be ; then orderlies and servants 
 came in from out the darkness leading horses, 
 and we knew that the regimental and brigade 
 commanders were going into action on foot. 
 The darkness faded slowly, one by one the 
 stars went out, and then the Confederate pickets 
 opened fire briskly ; then we could see the Con 
 federate earthworks, about six hundred yards 
 ahead of us could just see them and no more. 
 They were apparently deserted, not a man was 
 to be seen behind them ; but it was still faint 
 gray light. One of our gunners looked over 
 his piece and said that he could see the sights, 
 but that they blurred. We filled our sponge 
 buckets with water and waited, the Confederate 
 pickets firing briskly at us the while, but doing 
 no damage. Suddenly the Confederate works 
 were manned. We could see a line of slouch 
 hats above the parapet. Smoke in great puffs 
 burst forth from their line, and shell began to 
 howl by us. Their gunners were getting the 
 range. We sprung in and out from the three- 
 
130 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 inch guns and replied angrily. To our left, to 
 our right, other batteries opened ; and along 
 the Confederate line cannon sent forth their 
 balls searching for the range. Then their guns 
 were silent. It was daylight. We, the light- 
 artillery men, were heated with battle. The 
 strain on our nerves was over. In our front 
 were two lines of blue-coated infantry. One 
 well in advance of the other, and both lying 
 down. We were firing over them. The Con 
 federate pickets sprang out of their rifle pits 
 and ran back to their main line of works. Then 
 they turned and warmed the battery with long- 
 range rifle practice, knocking a man over here, 
 killing another there, breaking the leg of a 
 horse yonder, and generally behaving in an ex 
 asperating manner. The Confederate infantry 
 was always much more effective than their 
 artillery, and the battery that got under the fire 
 of their cool infantry always suffered severely. 
 The air began to grow hazy with powder smoke. 
 We saw that the line of slouch-hatted heads 
 had disappeared from the Confederate earth 
 works, leaving heads exposed only at long 
 intervals. Out of the powder smoke came an 
 officer from the battle-lines of infantry. He told 
 us to stop firing, as the soldiers were about to 
 
THE BA TTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 1 3 l 
 
 charge. He disappeared to carry the message to 
 other batteries. Our cannon became silent. The 
 smoke drifted off of the field. I noticed that 
 the sun was not yet up. Suddenly the fore 
 most line of our ttoops, which were lying on 
 the ground in front of us, sprang to their feet 
 and dashed at the Confederate earthworks at a 
 run. Instantly those works were manned. Can 
 non belched forth a torrent of canister, the 
 works glowed brightly with musketry, a storm 
 of lead and iron struck the blue line, cutting 
 gaps in it. Still they pushed on, and on, and 
 on. But, how many of them fell ! They drew 
 near the earthworks, firing as they went, and 
 then, with a cheer, the first line of the Red 
 Division of the Second Corps (Barlow s) swept 
 over it. And there in our front lay, sat, and 
 stood the second line, the supports ; why did 
 not they go forward and make good the victory ? 
 They did not. Intensely excited, I watched 
 the portion of the Confederate line which our 
 men had captured. I was faintly conscious of 
 terrific firing to our right and of heavy and con 
 tinuous cheering on that portion of our line 
 which was held by the Fifth and Sixth Corps. 
 For once the several corps had delivered a sim 
 ultaneous assault, and I knew that it was to be 
 
I3 2 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 now or never. The powder smoke curled 
 lowly in thin clouds above the captured works. 
 Then the firing became more and more thun 
 derous. The tops of many battle-flags could 
 be seen indistinctly, and then there was a heavy 
 and fierce yell, and the thrilling battle-cry of the 
 Confederate infantry floated to us. " Can our 
 men withstand the charge ? " I asked myself. 
 Quickly I was answered. They came into sight 
 clambering over the parapet of the captured 
 works. All organization was lost. They fled 
 wildly for the protection of their second line 
 and the Union guns, and they were shot by 
 scores as they ran. The Confederate infantry 
 appeared behind their works and nimbly climbed 
 over, as though intent on following up their 
 success, and their fire was as the fury of hell. 
 We manned the guns and drove them to cover 
 by bursting shell. How they yelled! How 
 they swung their hats ! And how quickly their 
 pickets ran forward to their rifle pits and sank 
 out of sight ! The swift, brave assault had 
 been bravely met and most bloodily repulsed. 
 Twenty minutes had not passed since the in 
 fantry had sprung to their feet, and ten-thou 
 sand of our men lay dead or wounded on the 
 erround. The men of the Seventh New York 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 133 
 
 Heavy Artillery came back without their col 
 onel. The regiment lost heavily in enlisted 
 men and line officers. Men from many com 
 mands sought shelter behind the crest of the 
 hill we were behind. They seemed to be dazed 
 and utterly discouraged. They told of the 
 strength of the Confederate earthworks, and as 
 serted that behind the line we could see was 
 another and stronger line, and all the enlisted 
 men insisted that they could not have taken 
 the second line even if their supports had fol 
 lowed them. These battle-dazed visitors drifted 
 off after a while and found their regiments, but 
 some of them drifted to the rear and to coffee 
 pots. We drew the guns back behind the crest 
 of the hill, and lay down in the sand and waited. 
 I noticed that the sun was now about a half an 
 hour high. Soldiers came to the front from the 
 rear, hunting for their regiments, which had 
 been practically annihilated as offensive engines 
 of war. Occasionally a man fell dead, struck 
 by a stray ball from the picket line. By noon 
 the stragglers were mostly gathered up and had 
 rejoined their regiments, and columns of troops 
 began to move to and fro in our rear in the 
 little valley formed by the alder swamp. A 
 column of infantry marching by fours passed to 
 
134 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 our right. I watched them, listlessly wondering 
 if they were going to get something to eat, as I 
 was hungry. I saw a puff of smoke between 
 the marchers and myself, heard the report of a 
 bursting shell, and twelve men of that column 
 were knocked to the earth. Their officers 
 shouted, " Close up ! close up ! " The unin 
 jured men hurriedly closed the gap and 
 marched on. The dead and wounded men lay 
 on the ground, with their rifles scattered among 
 them. 
 
 Soon some soldiers came out of the woods and 
 carried the wounded men off, but left the dead 
 where they fell. We buried them that night. 
 Then, as the day wore away, and the troops 
 were well in hand again, I saw staff officers ride 
 along the lines, and then I saw the regimental 
 commanders getting their men into line. About 
 four o clock in the afternoon I heard the char 
 ging commands given. With many an oath at 
 the military stupidity which would again send 
 good troops to useless slaughter, I sprang to my 
 feet and watched the doomed infantry. Men, 
 whom I knew well, stood rifle in hand not more 
 than thirty feet from me, and I am happy to 
 state that they continued to so stand. Not a 
 man stirred from his place. The army to a man 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 135 
 
 refused to obey the order, presumably from 
 General Grant, to renew the assault. I heard 
 the order given, and I saw it disobeyed. Many 
 of the enlisted men had been up to and over 
 the Confederate works. They had seen their 
 strength, and they knew that they could not be 
 taken by direct assault, and they refused to 
 make a second attempt. That night we began 
 to intrench. 
 
 By daylight we had our earthwork finished 
 and were safe. The Seventh New York Heavy 
 Artillery, armed as infantry, were intrenched 
 about eighty yards in front of us. We were on 
 the crest of a ridge ; they were below us. Be 
 hind us, for supports, were two Delaware regi 
 ments, their combined strength being about one 
 hundred and twenty men. Back of us was the 
 alder swamp, where springs of cool water 
 gushed forth. The men in front of us had to 
 go to these springs for water. They would 
 draw lots to see who should run across the dan 
 gerous, bullet-swept ground that intervened be 
 tween our earthworks and theirs. This settled, 
 the victim w r ould hang fifteen or twenty can 
 teens around him ; then, crouching low in the 
 rifle-pits, he would give a great jump, and when 
 he struck the ground he was running at the top 
 
136 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 of his speed for our earthwork. Every Con 
 federate sharpshooter within range fired at him. 
 Some of these thirsty men were shot dead ; 
 but generally they ran into the earthwork with 
 a laugh. After filling their canteens, they 
 would sit by our guns and smoke and talk, 
 nerving themselves for the dangerous return. 
 Adjusting their burden of canteens, they would 
 go around the end of our works on a run and 
 rush back over the bullet-swept course, and 
 again every Confederate sharpshooter who saw 
 them would fire at them. Sometimes these 
 water-carriers would come to us in pairs. One 
 day two Albany men leaped into our battery. 
 After filling their canteens, they sat with us and 
 talked of the beautiful city on the Hudson, and 
 finally started together for their rifle-pits. I 
 watched through an embrasure, and saw one 
 fall. Instantly he began to dig a little hollow 
 with his hands in the sandy soil, and instantly 
 the Confederate sharpshooters went to work at 
 him. The dust flew up on one side of him, and 
 then on the other. The wounded soldier kept 
 scraping his little protective trench in the sand. 
 We called to him. He answered that his leg 
 was broken below the knee by a rifle ball. 
 From the rifle-pits we heard his comrades. call 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 137 
 
 to him to take off his burden of canteens, to 
 tie their strings together, and to set them to 
 one side. He did so, and then the thirsty men 
 in the pits drew lots to see who should risk his 
 life for the water. I got keenly interested in 
 this dicing with death, and watched intently. 
 A soldier sprang out of the rifle-pits. Running 
 obliquely, he stooped as he passed the can 
 teens, grasped the strings, turned, and in a flash 
 was safe. Looking through the embrasure, I 
 saw the dust rise in many little puffs around 
 the wounded man, who was still digging his 
 little trench, and, with quickening breath, felt 
 that his minutes were numbered. I noted a 
 conspicuous man, who was marked with a 
 goitre, in the rifle-pits, and recognized him as 
 the comrade of the stricken soldier. He called 
 to his disabled friend, saying that he was com 
 ing for him, and that he must rise when he 
 came near and cling to him when he stopped. 
 The hero left the rifle-pits on the run ; the 
 wounded man rose up and stood on one foot ; 
 the runner clasped him in his arms ; the arms 
 of the wounded man twined around his neck, 
 and he was carried into our battery at full 
 speed, and was hurried to the rear and to a hos 
 pital. To the honor of the Confederate sharp- 
 
138 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 shooters, be it said, that when they understood 
 what was being done they ceased to shoot. 
 
 One day during this protracted Cold Harbor 
 fight, a battery of Cohorn mortars was placed 
 in position in the ravine behind us. The cap 
 tain of this battery was a tall, handsome, sweet- 
 voiced man. He spent a large portion of his 
 time in our earthworks, watching the fire of his 
 mortars. He would jump on a gun and look 
 over the works, or he would look out through 
 the embrasures. Boy-like, I talked to him. I 
 would have talked to a field-marshal if I had 
 met one. He told me many things relative to 
 mortar practice, and I, in turn, showed him how 
 to get a fair look at the Confederate lines with 
 out exposing himself to the fire of the sharp 
 shooters, most of whom we had " marked 
 down." He playfully accused me of being 
 afraid, and insisted that at six hundred yards 
 a sharpshooter could not hit a man. But I 
 had seen too many men killed in our battery to 
 believe that. So he continued to jump on 
 guns and to poke his head into embrasures. 
 One day I went to the spring after water 
 While walking back I met four men carrying a 
 body in a blanket. " Who is that?" I asked. 
 " The captain of the mortars," was the reply. 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 139 
 
 Stopping, they uncovered his head for me. I 
 saw where the ball had struck him in the eye, 
 and saw the great hole in the back of his head 
 where it had passed out. 
 
 The killed and wounded of the first day s 
 fight lay unburied and uncared for between the 
 lines. The stench of the dead men became un 
 bearable, and finally a flag of truce was sent 
 out. There was a cessation of hostilities to 
 bury the dead and to succor the wounded. I 
 went out to the ground in front of our picket 
 line to talk to the Confederate soldiers, and to 
 trade sugar and coffee for tobacco. Every 
 corpse I saw was as black as coal. It was not 
 possible to remove them. They were buried 
 where they fell. Our wounded I mean those 
 who had fallen on the first day on the ground 
 that lay between the picket lines were all 
 dead. I saw no live man lying on this ground. 
 The wounded must have suffered horribly 
 before death relieved them, lying there exposed 
 to the blazing southern sun o days, and being 
 eaten alive by beetles o nights. 
 
 One evening just before sunset I went to the 
 spring to fill some canteens. Having filled 
 them, I loaded my pipe and smoked in silent 
 enjoyment. Looking up, I saw two Confeder- 
 
140 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ate infantry soldiers walking slowly down the 
 ravine. They were tall, round-shouldered men. 
 I clasped my knees and stared at them. They 
 walked toward me, then halted, and dropping 
 their musket-butts to the ground, they clasped 
 their hands over the muzzles of their rifles and 
 stared at me as I stared at them. I could not 
 understand what two fully armed Confederate 
 soldiers could be doing within our lines. After 
 gazing at one another in silence for an instant, 
 one of them smiled (I could almost hear the 
 dirt on his face crack, and was agreeably inter 
 ested in the performance) and inquired kindly, 
 " Howdy ? " So I said, still seated and suck 
 ing my pipe, " Howdy," as that seemed to be 
 the correct form of salutation in Virginia. 
 
 o 
 
 Then I asked indifferently what they were 
 doing within our lines. They told me that 
 they had been captured and that they were on 
 their way to our rear. That statement struck 
 me as decidedly funny. I did not believe it, 
 and my face expressed my disbelief. They 
 then said that they were lost, that they were 
 afraid to return to the front for fear of being 
 killed, that they were afraid to keep on travel 
 ling for fear of running against the Union pick 
 ets on the flanks, and that they were out of 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 14! 
 
 provisions and were hungry. That last state 
 ment appealed strongly to me. I imagined my 
 self prowling between the front and the rear of 
 the Confederate army, with an empty haversack 
 dangling at my side, and nothing to hope for 
 but a Confederate prison, and my heart went 
 out to these men. I opened my haversack and 
 shared my hardtack with them, and then showed 
 them the road which led to our rear. They 
 sat down by the spring and ate the hard bread 
 and drank of the cool water, and talked drawl- 
 ingly of the war, and finally slouched off 
 to the rear. At the time I thought them to 
 be deserters. After dark, to replenish the 
 waste of my charity, I visited the camp of 
 some loo-day men, and found a half-filled 
 haversack. It was surprising what careless 
 fellows those loo-day men were. They were 
 always losing something, haversacks generally, 
 and we light-artillery men were constantly 
 rinding them. 
 
 During the fighting of the fourth day, which 
 was not severe, a head-quarters orderly rode 
 into the battery and delivered an order to our 
 captain. He read it, and then calling me to 
 him, handed me the order to read. With mili 
 tary brevity it commanded him to send Private 
 
142 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Frank Wilkeson to army head-quarters at once 
 to report to Adjutant-General Seth Williams. 
 My heart sank. I had been stealing haver 
 sacks. I had been exceedingly impudent to 
 some officers. I had been doing a lot of 
 things which I should not have done, and 
 now I was in for it. " Adjutant-General," I re 
 peated thoughtfully to myself. " That sounds 
 rather savage." The captain said : " Wash up 
 and accompany the orderly. Get a horse from, 
 the chief of caissons and return promptly." 
 
 I ignored the first portion of the order, but 
 secured the horse and rode off, pants in boots 
 slouch-hatted, flannel-shirted, blouseless, a strap 
 around my waist and supremely dirty. I was 
 tortured with the belief that I was to be pun 
 ished. A certain sheep, which I had met in a 
 field near Bowling Green, weighed heavily on 
 me. A large bunch of haversacks, which I had 
 found o nights, dangled before me. I ransacked 
 my memory and dragged forth all my military 
 misdeeds and breaches of discipline and laid 
 them one after the other on my saddle-bow 
 and thoughtfully turned them over and over 
 and looked at them, regretfully at first, then 
 desperately and recklessly. I knew that I 
 ought to be court-martialed and that I de- 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 143 
 
 served to be shot. I talked to the orderly, and 
 asked what duties the adjutant-general perform 
 ed (I had an idea that he shot insubordinate pri 
 vates), and was immensely relieved to hear that 
 he was the officer who issued orders a very 
 superior order of chief clerk, as it were. " Is 
 he savage-tempered ? " I asked. u Who, Gen 
 eral Williams? " my guide exclaimed in ques 
 tioning surprise. " Not he," he answered ; "he 
 is the kindest-hearted man in the army." I was 
 slightly reassured. 
 
 I said : " See here, what do you suppose he 
 wants of me ? I do not know him and I do not 
 want to know him. I have been disobeying 
 orders, been stealing haversacks from infantry 
 soldiers, and have been impudent to some in 
 competent officers. You do not suppose that 
 I have been reported to head-quarters, do 
 you ? " 
 
 Loudly the orderly laughed and roundly he 
 swore, and then he said : " Not at all. No one 
 cares how many haversacks you have stolen, 
 excepting the men who lost them ; and as for 
 being impudent to some of these officers, they 
 deserve it. You need not be troubled. When 
 a private is sent for and guided to head-quarters, 
 he is not going to be hurt." 
 
144 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 We rode into a village of tents, one of which 
 was pointed out to me as General Williams . 
 Sentinels paced to and fro ; nice, clean men 
 they were too. I dismounted, hitched my 
 horse, and walked to Williams tent. I was 
 halted, sent in my name, and was admitted. 
 I strode in defiant, hat on head, expecting to 
 be abused, and resolved to take a hand in the 
 abuse business myself. Boy that I was, I was 
 really frightened half out of my senses. 
 
 I saw a handsome, kind-faced, middle-aged 
 officer standing before me. He smiled kindly, 
 and inquired, as he extended his hand to me, 
 " Have I the pleasure of addressing Lieutenant 
 Frank Wilkeson?" My hat came off instantly; 
 my heart went out to Seth Williams, and I re 
 plied : " No, General ; I am Private Frank 
 Wilkeson." He smiled again and looked curi 
 ously at me. How I did wish I had washed 
 my face and brushed the dirt off of my clothes. 
 He bade me to be seated, and skilfully set me 
 to talking. He asked me many questions, and 
 I answered as intelligently as I could. Grow 
 ing confidential, I told him that I had been 
 dreadfully frightened by being summoned to 
 head-quarters, and confessed the matters of the 
 sheep and the haversacks, and my misconcep- 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 1 45 
 
 tion of his duties. He tried to look severely 
 grave, but laughed instead, and said pleasantly: 
 "You are not to be shot. The crimes you have 
 committed hardly deserve that punishment. I 
 have called you to me to say that Secretary of 
 War Stanton has ordered your discharge, and 
 that you are to be appointed a second lieuten 
 ant in the Fourth Regiment of United States 
 Artillery. When you want your discharge, 
 claim it from your captain. He has the order 
 to discharge you. When you get it, come to me 
 if you need money to travel on, and I will lend 
 you sufficient to take you to Washington and 
 to buy you some clothing. When you arrive 
 there, report to the Secretary of War, and he 
 will tell you what to do." 
 
 Kind Seth Williams ! So gracious, and 
 sweet, and sympathetic was he to me, a dirty 
 private, that my eyes rilled with tears, and I 
 could not talk, could not thank him. I came 
 within an ace of crying outright. I returned 
 to my battery and resumed work on my gun. 
 I thought that the Army of the Potomac might 
 win the next battle, and end the war. If it 
 did, I preferred to be a private in a volunteer 
 battery which was serving at the front, rather 
 than to be a lieutenant in the United States 
 
146 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 Artillery, stationed at Camp Barry, near Wash 
 ington. 
 
 On one of these six Cold Harbor days, when 
 my battery was in action, I saw a party of 
 horsemen riding toward us from the left. I 
 smiled as the absurdity of men riding along a 
 battle-line for pleasure filled my sense of the 
 ridiculous ; but as I looked I saw that the party 
 consisted of a civilian under escort. The party 
 passed close behind our guns, and in passing 
 the civilian exposed a large placard, which was 
 fastened to his back, and which bore the words, 
 " Libeler of the Press." We all agreed that he 
 had been guilty of some dreadful deed, and 
 were pleased to see him ride the battle-line. 
 He was howled at, and the wish to tear him 
 limb from limb and strew him over the ground 
 was fiercely expressed. This man escaped 
 death from the shot and shells and bullets that 
 filled the air. I afterward met him in Wash 
 ington, and he told me that he was a newspaper 
 war correspondent, and that his offence was in 
 writing, as he thought, truthfully, to his journal, 
 that General Meade advised General Grant to 
 retreat to the north of the Rapidan after the 
 battle of the Wilderness. 
 
 One night, of these six Cold Harbor nights, 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 1 47 
 
 I was on guard in the battery. I walked up 
 and down behind the guns. Voices whispering 
 outside of our work startled me. Then I heard 
 men scrambling up the face of the earthwork. 
 In the indistinct light I made out four. They 
 were carrying something. They stood above 
 me on the parapet, and in reply to my chal 
 lenge poked fun at me. They said they loved 
 me, and had brought me a present. They 
 threw down to me a dead man, and with a light 
 laugh went off. I called to them to come 
 back insisted that they should carry their 
 corpse and bury it, but they stood off in the 
 darkness and laughed at me, and insisted that 
 they had made me a present of him. " You 
 can have him ; the battery can have him," and 
 disappeared, leaving the dead man with me. 
 
 I was young, and therefore soft ; and the 
 lack of good food and loss of sleep told hard 
 on me. Indeed, I got utterly used up. So one 
 afternoon of this battle that lasted nearly a 
 week, when but little was going on, I said to 
 my sergeant : " I am exhausted, and want a 
 night s sleep. I will dig a trench back here. 
 If possible, let me sleep to-night, or I will be 
 on the sick-list." He promised to let me sleep 
 unless something urgent happened in the night. 
 
14^ RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 I ate my supper, wrapped my blanket around 
 me, and lay down in my trench. The guns 
 roared about me, the bullets whistled over me; 
 but, overcome with exhaustion, I fell into a 
 deep sleep. I was awakened with a strong grip 
 on my shoulders, was lifted up and violently 
 shaken, and the earnest voice of the gunner 
 told me to run to my gun. " They have got 
 an enfilading fire on us/ the sergeant cried to 
 me. Dazed, half awake, stupid from the deep 
 sleep and coming sickness, I sat on the brink 
 of my trench and wondered where I was. I 
 heard, " Ho, Frank! Yah ! No. I ! " sharply 
 screamed. I heard the shot crash into our 
 horses. Still not awake, I started for my gun. 
 I saw the blaze of the fuses of the shells as they 
 whizzed by. I saw countless fireflies ; and, in 
 my exhausted, half-awake condition, I con 
 founded the shells and fireflies together, and 
 thought they were all shells. The shock to me, 
 in my weak, nervous condition, when I saw, as 
 I thought, the air actually stiff with shells, re 
 quired all my pride to stand up under. It 
 woke me up and left me with a fit of trembling 
 that required ten minutes warm work at the 
 guns to get rid of. The enfilading fire did not 
 amount to much, and I soon returned to my 
 trench and deep sleep. 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 149 
 
 One day four men carrying a pale infantry 
 man stopped for an instant in my battery. The 
 wounded man suffered intensely from a wound 
 through the foot. My sympathy was excited 
 for the young fellow, and as we at the moment 
 were doing nothing, I asked for half an hour s 
 leave. Getting it, I accompanied him back into 
 the woods to one of the Second Corps field 
 hospitals. Here, groaning loudly, he awaited 
 his turn, which soon came. We lifted him on 
 the rude table. A surgeon held chloroform to 
 his nostrils, and under its influence he lay as if 
 in death. The boot was removed, then the 
 stocking, and I saw a great ragged hole on the 
 sole of the foot where the ball came out. Then 
 I heard the coatless surgeon who was making 
 the examination cry out, " The cowardly 
 whelp ! " So I edged around and looked over 
 the shoulders of an assistant surgeon, and saw 
 that the small wound on the top of the foot, 
 where the ball entered, was blackened with 
 powder ! I, too, muttered " The coward " and 
 was really pleased to see the knife and saw put 
 to work and the craven s leg taken off below 
 the knee. He was carried into the shade of a 
 tree, and left there to wake up. I watched the 
 skilful surgeons probe and carve other patients. 
 
ISO RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 The little pile of legs and arms grew steadily, 
 while I waited for the object of my misplaced 
 sympathy to recover his senses. With a long 
 breath he opened his eyes. I was with him at 
 once, and looked sharply at him. I will never 
 forget the look of horror that fastened on his 
 face when he found his leg was off. Utter hope 
 lessness and fear that look expressed. I enter 
 ed into conversation with him ; and he, weak 
 ened and unnerved by the loss of the leg, and 
 the chloroform, for once told the truth. Lying 
 on his back, he aimed at his great toe, meaning 
 to shoot it off; but being rudely joggled by a 
 comrade at the critical instant, his rifle covered 
 his foot just below the ankle, and an ounce ball 
 went crashing through the bones and sinews. 
 The wound, instead of being a furlough, was a 
 discharge from the army, probably into eternity. 
 Our guns at the front began to howl at the Con 
 federates again, and I was forced to leave the 
 hospital. So I hastened back to my guns. The 
 utter contempt of the surgeons, their change 
 from careful handling to almost brutality, when 
 they discovered the wound was self-inflicted, 
 was bracing to me. j_ likec[ it, and rammed 
 home the ammunition in gun No. I with vim. 
 Constantly losing men in our earthwork, 
 
THE BATTLE OF COLD HARBOR. 151 
 
 shot not in fair fight, but by sharpshooters, we 
 all began to loathe the place. At last, one after 
 noon the captain ordered us to level the corn- 
 hills between the battery and the road, so that 
 we could withdraw the guns without making a 
 noise. At once understanding that a flank move 
 ment was at hand, we joyfully gathered up 
 shovels and spades, and went at the obstructions 
 with a will. No. 3 of No. I gun, an Albany man, 
 was at my side. I was bent over shovelling. 
 I straightened myself up. He leaned over to 
 sink his shovel, pitched forward in a heap, dead, 
 and an artilleryman beyond him clasped his 
 stomach and howled a death howl. No. 3 was 
 shot from temple to temple. The ball passed 
 through his head and hit the other man in the 
 stomach, fatally wounding him. They were the 
 last men our battery lost at Cold Harbor. 
 
 That evening the horses were brought up, 
 and all the guns but mine, No. I, were taken 
 off. We sat and watched them disappear in the 
 darkness. Soon heavy columns of infantry 
 could be indistinctly seen marching by the alder 
 swamp in our rear. Then all was quiet, ex 
 cepting the firing of the pickets. We sat and 
 waited for the expected advance of the Con 
 federates ; but they did not come. Towards 
 
152 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 midnight an officer rode into the earthwork and 
 asked lowly who was in command. The sergeant 
 stepped forward and received his orders. Turn- 
 ing to us he whispered, " Limber to the rear. " 
 Silently the horses swung around. The gun 
 was limbered, and, with the caisson in the lead, 
 we pulled out of the earthwork, slowly drove 
 across the cornfield, struck into a dusty road in 
 the forest, and marched for the James River 
 and the bloody disasters that awaited us be 
 yond that beautiful stream. 
 
IX. 
 
 FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 
 
 ON the night of June 14, 1864, the battery 
 to which I belonged went into park 
 close to the James River, but not within sight 
 of it. I well remember the camping ground, 
 because I endeavored to get water out of a 
 large spring which gushed from beneath a wide- 
 spreading tree, which stood to the rear and 
 right of a plantation house, where either a divi 
 sion or corps head-quarters had been established. 
 The spring flowed freely. It had been boxed, 
 and there was plenty of water for thousands of 
 men in the box. The water in the sluggish 
 runs had been roiled by artillery horses drinking, 
 and been additionally befouled by hundreds of 
 vermin-infested men bathing in it. The water 
 in the spring was clear and cool, and I, with a 
 dozen of my comrades, wanted some of it, but 
 we did not get it. An alert sentinel stood over 
 this water. He had orders to keep the waters 
 153 
 
154 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 of the spring sacred, to keep them unpolluted 
 by the touch of enlisted men s canteens or cof 
 fee pots. At the time I protested savagely 
 against the official selfishness which denied the 
 use of the only clean water in the region to the 
 men who did the fighting. The sentinel was 
 ashamed to keep us from the water, but, as he 
 said, he had to obey orders. That night I 
 strained the muddy, foul water of the run 
 through a blanket to get water to make coffee 
 and to fill my canteen. We were almost out of 
 food. I was entirely so. 
 
 On the morning of June I5th we moved 
 close to the James River and parked. I was 
 lying under a tree near an old and abandoned 
 house. Below me and a little to my left a pon 
 toon bridge stretched across the muddy waters 
 of the river James. A few steamboats were 
 paddling to and fro, some ferrying troops 
 across the river, others apparently doing noth 
 ing. The Second Corps troops were rapidly 
 marching across the pontoon bridge, which 
 swayed up and down under their heavy tread. 
 On the other side was a village of tents and 
 great piles of boxes. Many men were swim 
 ming in the river. 
 
 I had had no supper, no breakfast, and I was 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 1 55 
 
 exceedingly hungry. One of my comrades and 
 I were dolefully discussing the emptiness of our 
 stomachs, when we saw an old, gray-haired 
 negro walking past us. His tattered shirt was 
 open at the breast, displaying a coat of moss- 
 like, gray hair. His feet were bare. One of 
 his hands grasped a cane, made of a piece of 
 hickory sapling with prominent knobs on it, to 
 help his legs support his withered old body. In 
 his other hand he carried an aged and battered, 
 but bright, tin pail. I hailed him, saying : 
 " Uncle, come here." He stood in front of us, 
 with water running out of his bleary eyes. He 
 was exceedingly old and feeble. I said : " Uncle, 
 we are hungry. There is a safeguard on those 
 buildings," indicating a group of houses with 
 outstretched arm, " and we cannot plunder 
 them. Can you get us something to eat?" 
 The old negro looked doubtfully from my com 
 rade to me, and then back to my comrade. He 
 hesitated to offer us what he had. Then he 
 lifted the lid of his pail and dropped his long, 
 lean, withered hand into it and drew forth a 
 hoe-cake a thick, brown hoe-cake and hand 
 ed it to me. I was ashamed to take it. But 
 the old slave assured me that he had a store 
 of meal laid by, and that he would not suffer. 
 
156 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 So I took it and divided it with my comrade. 
 The aged negro hobbled off to his work din- 
 nerless. 
 
 Infantry hurried past us ; batteries of artil 
 lery rolled by. We recognized some of the lat 
 ter, and said : " There goes K. of the Fourth 
 United States Artillery " ; " That is the 
 Twelfth New York Battery," and we waved our 
 hands to the men whom we knew. There was 
 a gap in the column of hurrying troops. Our 
 captain swung himself into his saddle and com 
 manded : " By piece from the right front into 
 column, march ! " and we were off for Peters 
 burg. We crossed on the pontoon bridge, 
 which had a peculiar earthquaky motion, and 
 entered the village of tents. Thousands of 
 boxes of hard bread and barrels of pork were 
 there, but instead of being open and we helping 
 ourselves as we marched, the troops were halted 
 and jammed and irritated by having to stand 
 around with open haversacks while a compara 
 tively few commissary employees slowly dealt 
 out the precious provisions to us. Hours were 
 worth millions of dollars each on this flank 
 movement. They were really priceless, and we 
 dawdled away three of them in getting a little 
 food into our haversacks. This was Potomac 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. I 57 
 
 Army economy. The Second Corps, if the 
 boxes of hard bread and barrels of pork and 
 coffee and sugar had lined the road, and we en 
 listed men had helped ourselves, might have 
 carried off $20,000 worth of extra provisions ; 
 but we would have saved three hours, and they, 
 if properly used, would have been worth $100,- 
 000,000 each, and would have saved thousands 
 of men s lives also. But we fooled away the 
 time; we stood and chaffed one another; and 
 the cannon in our front roared and the mus 
 ketry rolled. Then we marched. We were in 
 high spirits. We marched free. Every enlisted 
 man in the Second Corps knew that we had 
 outmarched the Confederates. We knew that 
 some of our troops were assaulting the Con 
 federate works at Petersburg. The booming 
 of the cannon cheered us. We were tired, 
 hungry, worn with six weeks of continuous and 
 bloody fighting and severe marching ; but now 
 that we, the enlisted men of the Second Corps, 
 knew that at last a flank movement had been 
 successful, we wanted to push on and get into 
 the fight and capture Petersburg. We knew 
 that we had outmarched Lee s veterans, and 
 that our reward was at hand. The Second 
 Corps was in fine fettle. On all sides I heard 
 
158 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 men assert that Petersburg and Richmond were 
 ours ; that the war would virtually be ended in 
 less than twenty-four hours. 
 
 Night came. The almost full moon arose 
 above the woods and gold-flecked the dust 
 column which rose above us. We had heard 
 heavy firing about sundown, and judged that 
 we should be drawing near the battle-line. We 
 entered a pine woods, and there we met a mob 
 of black troops, who were hauling some brass 
 guns. They had attached long ropes to the 
 limbers, and, with many shouts, were dragging 
 them down the road. Some of them bore 
 flaming torches of pine knots in their hands. 
 They sang, they shouted, they danced weirdly, 
 as though they were again in Congo villages 
 making medicine. They were happy, dirty, 
 savagely excited, but they were not soldiers. 
 As we, the Second Corps, met these victorious 
 troops the eager infantrymen asked : " Where 
 did you get those guns ? " They replied : 
 " We uns captured them from the rebels to 
 day." " Bah ! " an infantry sergeant, who was 
 marching by my side, exclaimed, " you negroes 
 captured nothing from Lee s men. The city is 
 ours. There is not a brigade of the Army of 
 Northern Virginia ahead of us." And we all 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. I 59 
 
 exclaimed : " The city is ours ! We have out 
 marched them ! " And we strode on through 
 the dense dust clouds, with parched throats, 
 footsore and weary. Not a grumble did I 
 hear. But with set jaws we toiled on, intent on 
 capturing Petersburg before the Army of North 
 ern Virginia got behind the works. It was 
 " March, march, march ! No straggling now. 
 It is far better to march to-night than to assault 
 earthworks defended by Lee s men to-morrow. 
 Hurry along ! hurry, hurry, hurry ! " And we 
 marched our best. We passed a group of sol 
 diers, who wore the distinctive badge of the 
 Second Corps, cooking by the roadside, their 
 muskets stacked by their fire. We asked how 
 far it was to the battle-line. " Only a few hun 
 dred yards," they replied. Then we asked what 
 Confederate troops were ahead of us. They 
 answered, with a scornful laugh : " Petersburg 
 militia." We asked what Union troops were 
 engaged, and they replied : " Some of But 
 ler s men." With the dislike all soldiers have 
 for unknown troops, we said heartily : " Damn 
 Butler s men ! We do not know them. We 
 wish the Fifth or the Sixth Corps were here 
 instead of them." Many soldiers anxiously 
 inquired : " Will Butler s men fight ? " Then 
 
l6o RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 some private, who was better informed than the 
 most of us, told us that Butler s men had been 
 lying at Bermuda Hundreds, and that there 
 were many negro troops among them. The 
 noses of the Second Corps men were cocked 
 sharply in the air at this information. 
 
 Word was passed among us that the negro 
 troops had had famous success that day ; that 
 they had wrested, a heavy line of earthworks 
 from the Confederates, and had captured eigh 
 teen guns. The soldiers halted for an instant. 
 They examined their rifles and shifted their 
 cartridge-boxes to a position where they could 
 get at them easily, and they drank deeply from 
 their canteens. Then belts were tightened, 
 blanket rolls shifted, the last bits of hard-tack 
 the men had been chewing were swallowed, and 
 their mouths again filled with water and rinsed 
 out, and then throughout the ranks murmurs 
 arose of : " Now for it " ; " Put us into it, Han 
 cock, my boy ; we will end this damned re 
 bellion to-night ! " and we laughed lowly, and 
 our hearts beat high. Soon we heard com 
 mands given to the infantry, and they marched 
 off. My battery moved forward, twisted ob 
 liquely in and out among the stumps, and then 
 the guns swung into battery on a cleared space. 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. l6l 
 
 And then and then we went to cooking. 
 That night was made to fight on. -A bright 
 and almost full moon shone above us. The 
 Confederate earthworks were in plain view be 
 fore us, earthworks which we knew were bare of 
 soldiers. There was a noisy fire from the Con 
 federate pickets in front of us. So unnerved 
 and frightened were they that their bullets sang 
 high above us. We cooked and ate, and fool 
 ed the time away. This when every intelligent 
 enlisted man in the Second Corps knew that 
 not many miles away the columns of the Army 
 of Northern Virginia were marching furiously 
 to save Petersburg and Richmond and the Con 
 federacy. We could almost see those veteran 
 troops, lean, squalid, hungry and battle torn, 
 with set jaws and anxious-looking eyes, striding 
 rapidly through the dust, pouring over bridges, 
 crowding through the streets of villages, and 
 ever hurrying on to face us. And we knew 
 that once they got behind the earthworks in 
 our front, we could not drive them out. They 
 did not surrender cannon and intrenchments to 
 disorderly gangs of armed negroes. They did 
 not understand how troops could lose earth 
 works when assailed by equal numbers of sol 
 diers. Still we cooked and ate, and sat idly look- 
 
1 62 RECOLLECTIONS OP A PRIVATE. 
 
 ing into one anothers eyes, questioningly at first, 
 then impatiently and then angrily. Gradually 
 the fact that we were not to fight that night im 
 pressed itself on us. I walked over to the lim 
 ber of my gun, opened my knapsack, and took 
 out a campaign map and a pair of compasses. 
 Returning to the fire the map was spread on the 
 ground. As I measured the distances a group 
 of excited soldiers gathered around and watch 
 ed the work. We had the less distance to 
 march, about nine hours the start, and allowing 
 for the time lost at the crossing of the James 
 River we were at 1 1 P.M. four or five hours a- 
 head of the Army of Northern Virginia. " Will 
 they be in the works by morning, men?" I 
 asked ; and all answered, " By God, they will ! " 
 Discouraged, I put away the map, loaded a pipe, 
 lighted it, and strolled off down the line, stop 
 ping at almost every fire I came to to talk to 
 the infantry soldiers. The rage of the intelli 
 gent enlisted men was devilish. The most 
 blood-curdling blasphemy I ever listened to I 
 heard that night, uttered by the men who knew 
 they were to be sacrificed on the morrow. The 
 whole corps was furiously excited. I returned 
 to my battery a little after midnight. Seated 
 on the ground I rested my back against one of 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 163 
 
 the ponderous wheels of my gun. Resting 
 there I slept. 
 
 At early dawn I was awake and tried to ex 
 amine the Confederate line. I noticed that the 
 noisy, wasteful picket-firing of the night before 
 had ceased ; that the main line of earthworks, 
 indistinctly seen in the gray light, was silent. 
 Some of our infantry came into our slight earth 
 work, and we stood gazing into the indistinct 
 ness before us. All of us were greatly depressed. 
 
 It grew lighter and lighter, and there be 
 fore us, fully revealed, was a long, high line of 
 intrenchments, with heavy redoubts, where can 
 non were massed at the angles, silent, grim. 
 No wasteful fire shot forth from that line. 
 Now and then a man rose up out of the Con 
 federate rifle-pits, and a rifle-ball flew close 
 above us, no longer singing high in the air. 
 Sadly we looked at one another. We knew that 
 the men who had fought us in the Wilderness, 
 at Spottsylvania, North Anna, and Cold Har 
 bor were in the works sleeping, gaining strength 
 to repulse our assault, while their pickets watch 
 ed for them. v 
 
 /" No one has ever accused General Hancock ] 
 / * / 
 
 /of lying. y 
 
 ^* It was broad daylight. I had eaten my 
 
164 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 breakfast and was looking over the field of 
 yesterday s fighting. Some dead men lay on 
 the ground ; but the scarcity of those in gray 
 plainly showed that they had no stomach for 
 fighting, that they were raw, undisciplined 
 militia, who had abandoned their powerful line 
 of earthworks when attacked by a few black 
 troops. At sixty feet in front of the captured 
 works I saw pine trees which had been struck 
 with Confederate bullets thirty feet from the 
 ground. This told, better than .words, the 
 nervous condition of the men who pretended 
 to defend the line. 
 
 Wandering toward the rear, I came on the 
 line of rifle-pits which had been used by the 
 Confederate pickets, and saw two dead men 
 lying close together. I walked over to them. 
 One was a burly negro sergeant, as black as 
 coal, in blue ; the other was a Confederate line 
 sergeant, in gray. Their bayoneted rifles lay 
 beside them. Curious at the nearness of the 
 bodies, I turned them over and looked care 
 fully at them. They had met with unloaded 
 rifles and had fought a duel with their bayonets, 
 each stabbing the other to death. 
 
 The battery bugler blew " boots and sad 
 dles ! " and I hastened back to my gun, to hear 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 165 
 
 that the other corps of the Potomac Army had 
 arrived, and that the infantry would make a 
 general assault that day, probably in the after 
 noon. We limbered up ; then marched to the 
 left and took a new position on a bit of level 
 land which gradually sloped toward a creek 
 which flowed between us and the silent Confed 
 erate line. The preliminary artillery practice 
 began, so as to announce in thunder tones that 
 we were getting ready to make an assault. I 
 worked listlessly to and fro from the muzzle of 
 my three-inch gun, carelessly looking ahead to 
 see if the fire produced any result. It did not. 
 The gunners of the Confederate batteries were 
 evidently husbanding their ammunition. They 
 treated us with silent contempt. But, unable 
 to withstand our steady hammering, they at 
 last coldly responded to our attentions. Shot 
 skipped by us, shell exploded among us ; but, 
 with very unusual luck, we lost but few men. 
 
 We fired steadily. The limber of the gun 
 was emptied. It went back to the line of 
 caissons to be filled and the limber of the cais 
 sons came up. Soon the operation was re 
 peated and I knew that the caissons would 
 speedily go to the rear after ammunition. After 
 a little while the first sergeant came to me and 
 
1 66 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 said : " You seem to be tired. Go to the rear 
 with the caissons after ammunition." I handed 
 the heavy sponge staff to another cannoneer 
 and walked to the caissons. Mounting on the 
 empty chests I rode to the rear where the 
 ammunition wagons were parked. A portion 
 of the road we travelled over ran within three 
 fourths of a mile of a heavy Confederate re 
 doubt, out of whose embrasures the muzzles of 
 large black guns were thrust. To the right of 
 this piece of road was an open field of thin, 
 poverty-creating soil ; beyond the field was 
 a forest. Thickly scattered among the trees, 
 and grouped at the edge of the open field, in 
 the shade, were those cowards, the " coffee 
 boilers." Gangs of officers* servants and many 
 refugee negroes were there. Pack-mules loaded 
 with pots, frying-pans, gripsacks, and bags of 
 clothing stood tied to trees. White-capped 
 army wagons, with six mules harnessed to them, 
 stood at the edge of the woods. . The drivers 
 of these wagons were drinking coffee with 
 friendly " boilers," and they were probably 
 frightening one another by telling blood-curd 
 ling tales of desperate but mythical battles 
 they had been engaged in. Fires were burning 
 brightly in the forest, and thin columns of 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. l6/ 
 
 smoke arose above the trees. I could almost 
 smell the freshly made Rio and the broiled 
 bacon. It was as though a huge pic-nic were 
 going on in the woods. The scene angered 
 me. I knew that the " coffee boilers " were 
 almost to a man bounty-jumping cowards, and 
 I wanted that camp broken up. 
 
 The Confederates in the redoubt allowed us 
 to pass to the rear without firing on us ; for we 
 were empty and not worth powder and shot. 
 Arriving at the park of the ammunition train 
 we filled our ammunition chests, and then be 
 gan the return march. When the full caissons 
 came out of the woods on to the portion of the 
 road which was exposed to the fire from the 
 fort, I saw the Confederate gunners spring to 
 their cannon. I looked at the camp of the 
 " coffee boilers." They were enjoying life. I 
 leaned forward and clasped my knees with ex 
 cess of joy as I realized what was about to 
 occur. The Confederate gunners were going 
 to try to blow up our caissons. I was confident 
 that they could not hit us, and was also confi 
 dent that their attempt would bloodily disturb 
 the camp of the " boilers" and hangers-on. We 
 broke into a trot, then into a gallop, and then 
 into a dead run. Clouds of smoke shot forth 
 
1 68 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 from the redoubt, and out of these, large black 
 balls rose upward and rushed through the air, 
 and passed, shrieking shrilly, close above us, 
 to descend in the camp of the u boilers." It 
 was a delightful scene. I hugged my knees and 
 rocked to and fro and laughed until my flesh- 
 less ribs were sore. Shells swept above me and 
 burst in the woods. Shot howled past and cut 
 large trees down, and they fell with a crash 
 among the frying-pans and coffee-pots. Team 
 sters sprang into their wagons, or on to their 
 saddle-mules, and savagely plied their whips 
 and hastened away from the pasture-field. 
 Negro servants loosened their pack-mules and 
 hung on to the loads of tinware as they, yelling 
 at the top of their voices, ran for the rear. 
 Men, clad and armed as soldiers, skurried as 
 frightened rabbits, hid in holes, lay prone on 
 the earth, dropped behind logs. Through the 
 dust and smoke and uproar I saw men fall, 
 saw others mangled by chunks of shell, and saw 
 one, struck fairly by an exploding shell, vanish. 
 Enormously pleased, I hugged my lean legs, 
 and laughed and laughed again. It was the 
 most refreshing sight I had seen for weeks. 
 Our caissons, each drawn by six galloping 
 horses, passed safely through the fire and 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 169 
 
 entered the protective woods, and, moving 
 rapidly across the blood-chilling belt where the 
 spent balls fall and the wounded lie, were soon 
 on the battle line, and I was again engaged 
 in helping to waste good powder and shot and 
 shell. 
 
 The afternoon passed quickly away. One of 
 the caissons, which belonged to a battery that 
 was in action alongside of us, struck by a shell, 
 blew up, and two men were blown up with it. 
 A long bolt made by our English brothers, did 
 this work, and it added to my dislike of all 
 things English. As the sun sank the infantry 
 prepared to deliver the assault that we had 
 been announcing as to be made. A staff officer 
 rode up ; we ceased firing. The smoke drifted 
 off of the field. Utterly exhausted, I threw 
 myself on the hot ground and watched the 
 doomed men who were to try to carry the Con 
 federate line. The charging cheer rang out 
 loudly, the line of blue-clad soldiers rushed 
 forward, the Confederate pickets emptied their 
 rifles, jumped from their rifle-pits, and ran for 
 their main line, which was still silent excepting 
 the artillery. This was served rapidly, but not 
 very effectively. The line of blue swept on in 
 good order, cheering loucUy and continuously. 
 
170 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 They drew near to the Confederate earth 
 works. Canister cut gaps in the ranks. Then 
 the heads of Lee s infantry rose above their in- 
 trenchments. I saw the glint of the sun on 
 their polished rifle barrels. A cloud of smoke 
 curled along the works. Our men began to 
 tumble in large numbers ; some fell forward, 
 others backward, others staggered a few steps 
 and then sank down as though to rest. Still I 
 did not hear the roll of the musketry. Suddenly 
 it burst on me, mingled with the fierce Con 
 federate battle-cry. The field grew hazy with 
 smoke. Rifles were tossed high in the air. 
 Battle flags went down with a sweep, to again 
 appear and plunge into the smoke. Wounded 
 men straggled out of the battle. Fresh troops 
 hurried by the battery and disappeared in the 
 hazy smoke. Away off to our right I heard the 
 charging cheer of our soldiers and the thunder 
 ous roll of musketry; to the left more musketry 
 and exultant howls, as though we had met with 
 success. In our front the fire grew steadily 
 fiercer and fiercer. The wounded men, who 
 drifted through the battery, told us that the 
 works were very strong, and that beyond them 
 there was another and still stronger line, and 
 that our troops were fighting in the open before 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. l?l 
 
 the front line and were not meeting with any 
 success. Night settled down, and the fight 
 still went on ; but it fagged. The musketry 
 was no longer a steady roar, and we could see 
 the flashes of the rifles, and the Confederate 
 parapet glowing redly. At points the musketry 
 fire broke out fiercely, then died down. In our 
 front the fight was over. My battery moved 
 forward under the direction of a staff officer, 
 and we threw up an earthwork. 
 
 That night the news gatherers walked the 
 battle lines. They told us that the assault had 
 been bloodily repulsed excepting at one or two 
 unimportant points. And they also brought 
 an exceedingly interesting bit of news or gossip, 
 or a camp rumor. They said : " We have heard 
 from some of Butler s men that in the breast 
 pocket of the coat of a Confederate officer, who 
 was killed in front of their lines at Bermuda 
 Hundreds on June I5th, was found the morning 
 report of the Confederate army which was de 
 fending Petersburg on that day, and that this 
 report showed that Beauregard did not have 
 over 10,000 men, most of whom were militia,, 
 with which to defend Petersburg, and that But 
 ler had laid this report before Baldy Smith and 
 Hancock, and had urged them to make the as- 
 
172 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 sault and capture Petersburg before the Army 
 of Northern Virginia came up ; but that they, 
 Smith and Hancock, had hesitated and daw 
 dled the night away." 
 
 In the morning I saw that there had been 
 some advance of the line. The Second Corps 
 had gained a little ground at great cost, and we 
 heard that Burnside had also gained ground 
 and captured a redoubt. The dead soldiers of 
 the Second Corps lay thickly in front of us, 
 placed in long trenches by their comrades. 
 
 That afternoon the battery quartermaster- 
 sergeant, goaded to desperation by the taunts 
 of the artillery privates, nerved himself with 
 whiskey and came to the battery to display his 
 courage. The Confederate sharp-sho oters had 
 attacked us about noon, and our works were 
 hot. I, snugly seated under the earthworks, 
 looked at this representative of the staff with 
 all the intense dislike privates have for the gold- 
 laced officers. I was wicked enough to wish 
 that he would get shot. He swaggered up 
 and down behind the guns, talking loudly, and 
 ignorant of the danger. I, with high-beating 
 heart, looked eagerly at him, hungrily waiting 
 for him to jump and howl. I was disappointed. 
 A sharp-shooter s bullet struck him on the 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 1/3 
 
 throat. It crashed through his spine at the 
 base of the brain, and he neither jumped nor 
 howled simply fell on his back dead. 
 
 Early on the morning of June i8th, some of 
 our pickets brought word to the battery that 
 the Confederates had abandoned their front line 
 during the night, and that they had moved 
 back to their interior line, which was shorter 
 and stronger and more easily defended. The 
 infantry soldiers moved forward, and occupied 
 the works they had been unable to capture. 
 My battery moved to another position, and 
 again the guns opened on the Confederate line, 
 and again they husbanded their ammunition. 
 But their sharp-shooters fairly made us howl 
 with anguish. I heartily wished that Lee had 
 not abandoned his front line. Our infantry 
 moved to and fro, getting ready to assault the 
 new line of intrenchments. The soldiers were 
 thoroughly discouraged. They had no heart 
 for the assault. It was evident that they had 
 determined not to fight stanchly, not to at 
 tempt to accomplish the impossible. At about 
 four o clock in the afternoon the infantry was 
 sent to the slaughter, and the Confederates 
 promptly killed a sufficient number of them to 
 satisfy our generals that the works could not 
 
1/4 RECOLLECTIONS .OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 be taken by assaults delivered by exhausted 
 and discouraged troops. In many places our 
 battle line did not advance to the line of rifle- 
 pits held by the Confederate pickets. We had 
 lost about 12,000 men in the attempts to cap 
 ture Petersburg. The Second Corps could 
 have taken the city on the night of June I5th 
 without losing more than 500 men. This fact 
 disheartened the enlisted men of the Army of 
 the Potomac. They were supremely disgusted 
 with the display of military stupidity our gen 
 erals had made. 
 
 We marched somewhere at night. The road 
 was lined with sleeping infantry. I was hungry. 
 As I look back at those bloody days it seems to 
 me that I was always hungry. Men to the right 
 of us, to the left of us, lay as though dead they 
 slept so soundly ; but their haversacks were not 
 in sight. They were veterans who knew enough 
 to hide their haversacks when they slept on 
 roads. We came to a heavy double line of 
 men, who looked as if they had opened ranks 
 and then fallen over asleep. Soon we light- 
 artillery men recognized them as loo-day men 
 from Ohio. Their haversacks stood at their 
 heads. Wickedly we all went to plundering 
 the loo-day men as they slept. We exchanged 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. 1/5 
 
 our empty haversacks for full ones, and every 
 man of us had a spare haversack filled with 
 food hanging on the guns or caissons. At the 
 time I thought it a capital joke on the Ohio 
 men ; but I now think that some of those men 
 were very hungry before they got any thing to 
 eat. They must have bitter recollections of 
 the night march of some of the Second Corps 
 artillery. 
 
 In the morning we marched over ground 
 where there had been fighting the evening be 
 fore. Sitting at the base of a pine tree I saw 
 a line sergeant. His face was stained with 
 blood, which had oozed from under a bandage 
 made of an old shirt sleeve, tightly bound 
 around his eyes. By his side sat a little drum 
 mer boy, with unstrung drum and the sticks 
 put up standing on the ground before him. 
 The muscular form of the sergeant was bent 
 forward, his chin resting on his hands, his elbows 
 on his knees. His figure conveyed to me the 
 impression of utter hopelessness. The small 
 drummer looked up the road, and then down 
 the road, with anxious gaze. I stopped for an 
 instant, and asked, " What is the matter?" 
 The drummer looked up at me, his blue eyes 
 filled with tears, and answered : " He s my 
 
1?6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 father. Both his eyes were blinded on the 
 picket line this morning. I am waiting for an 
 ambulance to come along. I don t know where 
 the field hospitals are." I hurriedly pointed in 
 the direction of some field hospitals we had 
 passed a few hundred yards back. The two 
 rose up and walked slowly off, the son leading 
 his blinded father by the hand, leading him to 
 the operating-table, and I hastened on, swallow 
 ing my tears and cursing the delay to take 
 Petersburg. 
 
 Some stragglers, bearing the red cross on 
 their caps, were passed, and we were satisfied 
 that we were not merely changing position, 
 but that we were on the flanking move again. 
 We got into a thickly wooded country, and, 
 without a particle of warning, the men in gray 
 burst from cover and were on us. There was 
 some exceedingly severe fighting here, and we 
 got decidedly the worst of it, being driven 
 back beyond the Jerusalem plank-road in great 
 disorder. A group of artillerymen, some of 
 them wounded, came down the line and dropped 
 into our battery. They told us that their bat 
 tery had been captured, and that the infantry 
 who fought near their guns had lost severely, 
 many prisoners being taken by the Confeder- 
 
FIGHTING AROUND PETERSBURG. I// 
 
 ates ; but that when they left, our troops were 
 holding their ground, and had connected with 
 the Sixth Corps. We held the ground we were 
 fighting on, slept on it, and the next morning 
 again pushed on in column, to be again savagely 
 attacked on our flank by heavy masses of Con 
 federate infantry in column. Again we were 
 roughly handled, losing more guns and many 
 prisoners. The country was so densely wooded 
 that I could see but little of this fighting. I 
 simply served my gun, and looked ahead into 
 the forest, expecting to be hit by a rifle-ball at 
 any instant. Next morning we pushed on 
 again, having driven the Confederates off during 
 the night, and soon reached the Weldon Rail 
 road. There we got soundly thrashed and 
 gladly retreated, having lost more guns and 
 many more prisoners. 
 
 I talked to some rebel prisoners and swapped 
 food for tobacco. They told me that it was 
 Hill s Corps which had been so persistently 
 attentive to us. They were inclined to boast 
 about one of their corps handling two of our 
 crack corps. In truth they had torn us badly. 
 One long-legged, dangling Cracker, with a broad, 
 derisive grin on his face, which displayed his 
 long, tobacco-stained teeth, said to me, drawl- 
 
I ? RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 ingly : " Say, sonny, did you clover-leaf chaps 
 get a bellyful?" I assured him we had room 
 for more, whereat he grinned and marched to 
 the rear with his comrades. 
 
 I had had enough of marching and fighting 
 enough of seeing good men s lives squandered 
 in assaults against earthworks. The continuous 
 strain was greater than the soldiers, poorly fed 
 and exposed to the weather (the enlisted men 
 had no tents during this bloody and wasteful 
 campaign), could bear. As I have said, I got 
 heartsick and weary of the fighting, and believed 
 that Grant could not capture Petersburg until 
 he had disciplined his army, which would take 
 months, as by far the larger portion of the 
 troops were new to the field, and were bounty- 
 paid recruits. About 70,000 of the good men 
 we had crossed the Rapidan with lay dead be 
 hind us, or were in hospitals, or languished in 
 Confederate military prisons. So I, one morn 
 ing, claimed my discharge, which had been 
 ordered by Secretary of War Stanton while we 
 were fighting in front of Cold Harbor. Getting 
 it, I went to Washington, where a commission 
 in the Fourth United States Artillery awaited 
 me. 
 
X. 
 
 CONDITION OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC 
 AFTER PETERSBURG. 
 
 r I "HE memories of the war are growing dim. 
 The ranks of the men who carried arms 
 through Grant s last campaign are being thinned 
 rapidly by death. In a few years all of us will 
 join our comrades who fell dead along the 
 bloody trail that led from the Wilderness thick 
 ets to the fair fields that surrounded the be 
 leaguered cities of Petersburg and Richmond. 
 If a truthful statement is to be made of the 
 Army of the Potomac, of its morale, when the 
 enlisted men sank exhausted into their trenches 
 before Petersburg, it must be made quickly or 
 not at all. I write this chapter after much con 
 sideration, and I write it solely in the interests 
 of truth and to put permanently on record, so 
 that future generations of Americans can read it, 
 the opinions of many intelligent men who fought 
 in the ranks throughout that bloody campaign. 
 Late in the afternoon of June 18, 1864, and 
 179 
 
180 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 while the battery to which I belonged was 
 actively shelling a Confederate earthwork, and 
 getting shelled in return, a brigade of infantry 
 passed close behind our guns. I was sick with 
 a coming fever. I had exhausted my strength 
 in the morning, and was serving at the caissons 
 during the afternoon. The brigade of infantry 
 passed within five yards of me. The infantry 
 were weak and looked tired. Their steps were 
 slow. The appearance of these troops attrac 
 ted my attention. I saw that they were veter 
 ans, and greatly superior to the motley crew 
 into which the Army of the Potomac had de 
 generated. The brigade was about 500 mus 
 kets strong. I spoke to one of the men, asking 
 what command it was, and he answered, whether 
 truthfully or not I cannot say, " The Excelsior 
 Brigade of the Second Corps." That brigade 
 was a fighting brigade, justly famed throughout 
 the Army of the Potomac for their desperate 
 valor. It was the peer of the famous brigades 
 from Vermont and New Hampshire. 
 
 " Going in to the charge, men ? " I asked. 
 
 Nine or ten of the tired infantry soldiers 
 heard the question, and they growled out an ex 
 planatory answer in tones that expressed the 
 most profound disgust : 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. l8l 
 
 " No, we are not going to charge. We are go 
 ing to run towards the Confederate earthworks, 
 and then we are going to run back. We have 
 had enough of assaulting earthworks. We are 
 hungry and tired, and we want to rest and to 
 eat." 
 
 I spoke to other men farther down the short 
 column, and, in effect, received the same answer. 
 I went to the rear after ammunition that after 
 noon, and I met other troops going to the 
 front. I spoke to many of these men, and all 
 I spoke to were resolute in their purpose not 
 to make a determined charge of the Confeder 
 ate intrenchments. And they did not. 
 
 At the time, in the latter part of June, 1864, 
 it was freely charged by the generals employed 
 in the Army of the Potomac that the army 
 was not fighting as stanchly at Petersburg as it 
 had fought in the Wilderness or at Spottsyl- 
 vania. The charge was true. But was it the 
 enlisted men alone who shrank from the bloody 
 work of assaulting earthworks behind which 
 the clear-eyed, nervy, veteran Confederate in 
 fantry lurked ? Let the figures, presumably 
 official, as published in the work entitled 
 " Grant and his Campaigns," speak in answer, 
 and it must be borne in mind that these figures 
 
182 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 were never accepted by the enlisted men as 
 truthfully representing their losses during the 
 campaign. We had seen regiments melt be 
 fore the heat of the Confederate fire, until 
 a scant hundred men fell into line when the 
 drum tapped. We had seen brigades fall into 
 battle line three hundred muskets strong. Once 
 at Cold Harbor two regiments were sent to 
 support my battery. I smiled sorrowfully at 
 the scanty array. One hundred and twenty 
 muskets, sixty files, were all that were left of 
 two Delaware regiments. We had seen heavy- 
 artillery regiments, which joined us at Spottsyl- 
 vania, 1,500, 1,600, 1,700 men strong, fall into 
 line before Petersburg 400, 500, 600 men 
 strong, and to come back from the assault de 
 livered on June 18, 1864, still weaker. The 
 enlisted men who passed unharmed through the 
 frightful carnage, judged the losses the army 
 suffered by the actual losses that had occurred 
 in regiments with which we were familiar. 
 
 To the official figures. During May, 1864, 
 which period of time includes the prolonged 
 study of Confederate intrenchments at North 
 Anna, the Army of the Potomac lost 395 
 officers killed, 1,343 wounded, and 21 1 missing. 
 Five or six general officers were killed and ten 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 183 
 
 or twelve wounded during the month. In the 
 same month 5,189 enlisted men were killed, 
 27,140 wounded, and 7,239 were missing. From 
 May 3 1st to Oct. 28th, the day on which the 
 campaign practically ended, in the Potomac 
 Army 401 officers were killed, 1,453 wounded, 
 and 564 missing; during the same time 4,587 
 enlisted men were killed, 24,110 were wounded, 
 and 15,844 were missing. The aggregate losses 
 after the fighting at North Anna were 46,989 
 enlisted men and officers. And the enlisted 
 men never heard of but one general officer 
 being killed. He was Brigadier-General Burn- 
 ham. They heard of three or four other gen 
 erals being wounded, and of two being cap 
 tured. During this same time that is, after 
 the battle of North Anna we learned from 
 prisoners that the Confederate Generals Doles, 
 Chambliss, Gherardio, Dunnovan, and Gregg 
 had been killed, and many of their generals 
 wounded. And it must be remembered that 
 the Confederate generals were behind shelter 
 ing earthworks with their troops. The execu 
 tion of their duty made it essential that they 
 should be there. Our losses of general officers, 
 if they had fearlessly performed their duty, 
 should have been at least four times as heavy 
 
1 84 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 as those of the Confederates. Instead of one 
 Union general being killed to over 44,000 en 
 listed men stricken in battle, there should have 
 been at least twenty of them killed and eighty 
 of them wounded, and there probably would 
 have been if they had done their duty as reck 
 lessly as the Confederate generals did theirs. 
 Let me go west, and to the battle of Franklin, 
 to illustrate my meaning. On the afternoon of 
 November 30, 1864, the Confederate generals 
 led their veteran infantry to the assault against 
 the hastily constructed Union earthworks, 
 thrown up across a broad neck of land formed 
 by a bend in the Harpeth River, in Tennessee. 
 The attack began at 4 P.M. It was dark at 6 
 P.M. The fight lasted until about 10 P.M. Say 
 six hours of fighting, four of which were per 
 formed after dark, when it was impossible for 
 infantry to select generals as targets, or to shoot 
 accurately. The Confederates lost about 6,000 
 enlisted men in this action, and four Confeder 
 ate generals were killed and six so severely 
 wounded that they left the front. In truth, 
 every general in the Confederate army which 
 fought at Franklin, excepting General Hood, 
 was either killed or wounded. So fought the 
 Confederate leaders in the field. So Southern 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 185 
 
 generals led their soldiers to death and shared 
 it with them. 
 
 It is true the regulars, typified by Major- 
 General Griffin of the Fifth Corps, and volun 
 teers by Major-General Francis C. Barlow of 
 the Second Corps, commanded the universal 
 respect of the enlisted men. We knew the 
 righting generals and we respected them, and 
 we knew the cowards and despised them. 
 
 It was frequently and truthfully asserted that 
 the Army of the Potomac did not fight as 
 steadily and persistently around Petersburg as 
 it had done in the Wilderness and around 
 Spottsylvania. In other words, that the great 
 army had become demoralized. I believe that 
 the demoralization of the Army of the Potomac 
 was due to two causes, which were at that time 
 fully understood by all the intelligent volun 
 teers in the army. The first and minor cause 
 was the shirking of bloody work by some of the 
 generals, which disheartened the enlisted men 
 and imbittered them. 
 
 The second and potent cause of the demorali 
 zation of the Army of the Potomac was the 
 worthless character of the recruits who were 
 supplied to the army in 1864-65, In 1864 
 requisitions calling for 500,000 troops were 
 
1 86 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 made on the North. So thoroughly exhausted 
 was the breed of fighting men in the North 
 that but 169,000 of the enormous number of 
 men raised by purchase ever stood in battle 
 ranks, and they stood there because they had 
 been unable to elude the vigilance or corrupt 
 the honesty of the guards who accompanied 
 them from the recruiting barracks to the front. 
 Since man has been on earth the race has been 
 divided into classes, one of which is the crimi 
 nal class. This class live by plundering the 
 producing class. They live by theft, by mur 
 der, by cheating, by pandering to the ignoble 
 vices of men. When the Northern townships 
 began to pay bounties for recruits to fill the 
 quotas allotted to them, the criminal class of 
 America quit preying on society at large, and 
 turned their attention to swindling the govern 
 ment. They accepted the bounty offered by 
 the towns and enlisted. When the bounties 
 were paid to them they deserted and enlisted 
 in another town, to again desert. Bounty- 
 jumping was the safest and most profitable 
 business in the United States during those 
 days. The boldest and most intelligent of the 
 criminal class never appeared at the front. 
 They escaped. The weak, the diseased, the 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. l8/ 
 
 feeble-minded joined the army. They were 
 the scum of the slums of the great European 
 and American cities. To these were added the 
 rakings of rural almshouses and the never-do- 
 wells of villages. The recruits were faint 
 hearted and stupid. Many were irreclaimable 
 blackguards, wholly given over to numerous 
 ignoble and unnamable vices. They were 
 moral lepers. They were conscienceless, cow 
 ardly scoundrels, and the clean-minded Ameri 
 can and Irish and German volunteers would 
 not associate with them. 
 
 Directly after the battle of Cold Harbor these 
 pretended soldiers began to be noticeable in the 
 Army of the Potomac. They were not the 
 heavy-artillery men drawn by Grant from 
 Washington to make good his losses. We had 
 no better troops than those. But these men 
 were the bounty-paid substitutes. They were 
 the white slaves, whom greedy and unpatriotic 
 men, who preyed on the necessities of timid 
 communities, gathered from the slums, from 
 Castle Garden, from the almshouses, from the 
 cots of venereal hospitals, from the bars of 
 criminal courts, from prison cells, and from the 
 unnatural parents of weak-minded sons. After 
 gathering the foul creatures, they kept them in 
 
1 88 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 pens and private prisons. Over the doors of 
 these dens swung signs, and blazoned on 
 them in gilt letters were shameful legends 
 which announced that within a man dealt in 
 alleged men, and that the honor of townships 
 could be pawned there. A Mississippi slave- 
 dealer was a refined and honorable gentleman 
 in comparison with a Northern bounty-broker, 
 who sold men to the townships which filled 
 their quotas by purchase. I have seen these 
 substitutes, many of them unable to speak 
 English, vermin infested, rough-skinned, stink 
 ing with disease, their eyes running matter, 
 their legs and arms thin and feeble, their backs 
 bowed, and their rat-like and idiot-like heads 
 hanging low, join the army to be virtually 
 kicked out of the decent commands they were 
 billeted on. They were scorned, kicked, and 
 cursed by the volunteers as mangy curs. These 
 degraded men formed the " coffee boilers." 
 
 I first saw systematic " coffee boiling," a sure 
 sign that discipline was relaxed, at Cold Har 
 bor. In the woods to the rear and right of my 
 battery, groups of unwounded men cooked and 
 boiled coffee. These men had dropped out of 
 their commands as they approached the battle 
 line, and had hidden in the woods. There 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 189 
 
 were hundreds of them in the army at Cold 
 Harbor. There were hundreds of them around 
 Petersburg. They sneaked away from their 
 regiments during battle, or while marching to 
 battle, to rejoin them when on the march. 
 They were always present when rations were is 
 sued. They were never present when cartridges 
 were supplied. They were, without exception, 
 thieves. They robbed the dead. They stole 
 from the living. They were strongly suspected 
 of killing wounded men at night. More cow 
 ardly creatures were never clad in the uniform 
 of English-speaking peoples. They plundered 
 houses. They frightened women and little 
 children. They burned dwellings. To call a 
 soldier of the Army of the Potomac a " coffee 
 boiler " was an insult to be promptly resented. 
 These worthless creatures weakened every 
 battle line they were forced into. No matter 
 how brave a veteran soldier may be, he relies 
 on the men on either side of him to stand there 
 until they fall. He relies on them to accom 
 pany him in the advance, and to be by his side 
 when slowly falling back before a superior force. 
 It is essential that a soldier hears the voices of 
 his comrades when he is charging. He must 
 know that his comrades are as stanch fighters 
 
190 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 as he. Then he can fight with comparative 
 comfort. How was it with the larger portions 
 of the bounty-paid recruits raised in 1864? It 
 did not lie within the power of any regimental 
 officers to hold these undisciplined blackguards 
 steady under fire. Dozens of times I have 
 seen them break and run, throwing away their 
 arms as they fled, yelling, to the rear and to 
 their coffee-pots. They weakened the battle 
 lines, as no man can fight when surrounded by 
 cowards, who are easily panic-stricken, and who 
 are unrestrained by any consideration of pride 
 from ignominiously running away to save their 
 lives. No man really enjoys a battle. One 
 has to string up his nerves and take a firm grip 
 on himself morally, and hold himself in the 
 battle flames for a few moments until warmed 
 to passion. The impulse is to run out of the 
 danger. The men the bounty-brokers supplied 
 to the army had no morality, no sentiment 
 except of fear, and they could not and would 
 not stand fire. They desired to live to enjoy 
 the spending of the money they had received. 
 So they shirked, and ran, and boiled coffee in 
 the rear until gathered up by the provost 
 guards and sent to their regiments. They were 
 disciplined somewhat during the winter of 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. ipl 
 
 1864-65. Previous to the spring of 1865 the 
 larger portion of the bounty-paid recruits would 
 not have been worth burning Confederate pow 
 der to kill, as their presence in our ranks im 
 paired the efficiency of our army. They could 
 have been safely killed with clubs. 
 
 After the battle of June 18, 1864, the enlisted 
 men frequently discussed the condition of the 
 Army of the Potomac. They sat o nights in 
 groups behind the intrenchments and talked, 
 talked, talked of the disintegrating force which 
 Grant commanded. Enormous losses of prison 
 ers were reported, losses that were incurred while 
 charging earthworks, which fact clearly showed 
 that our troops had surrendered after reaching 
 the Confederate intrenchments surrendered 
 rather than attempt to take them or to return 
 to our line under the deadly accurate fire of the 
 Confederate infantry. Many of the volunteers 
 vehemently asserted that the bounty-paid re 
 cruits really deserted during action to seek 
 safety in Confederate prison pens. The en 
 listed men who had gathered into ranks under 
 McClellan, and who had been forged into 
 soldiers by that admirable drill-master, all said 
 that the Army of the Potomac of 1862 was far 
 superior, man to man, to that which crossed 
 
I9 2 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 the Rapidan in May of 1864, and immeasur 
 ably superior to the army which lay in the 
 trenches before Petersburg in July of 1864. 
 They also asserted, and truthfully, that if the 
 original volunteers, or men as good as they 
 were, were commanded by Grant he would 
 capture Richmond in twenty-four hours. The 
 enlisted men spent much time in comparing 
 Grant with McClellan. The latter had many 
 warm friends among the soldiers. He only of 
 all the men who had commanded the Army of 
 the Potomac was personally liked and admired 
 by his troops. Soldiers eyes would brighten 
 when they talked of him. Their hard, lean, 
 browned faces would soften and light up with 
 affection when they spoke of him, and still it 
 was affection only; they did not, as a rule, con 
 cede to him military talent. And the general 
 opinion among them was ; given Grant in com 
 mand of the army in 1862, and the rebellion 
 would have been crushed that year. Asked 
 how McClellan would have done with the army 
 of 1864 under his command, they shrugged 
 their shoulders and said dryly : " Well, he 
 would have ended the war in the Wilderness 
 by establishing the Confederacy." 
 
 One night as we sat around the guns talking 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 1 93 
 
 with visitors from a New Hampshire regiment, 
 a private, young in years, but old in service, 
 said : 
 
 " McClellan expected American volunteers to 
 fight day after day. Outfought and beaten to 
 day, they must fight to-morrow as though ever 
 victorious, and they did it when he commanded 
 them. He taught us to fight, and all that is 
 good in this many-tongued crew of Grant s, the 
 leaven of it, is the remnant of McClellan s army. 
 Grant has not moulded one man in this vast 
 mob. He has filled our ranks as best he could, 
 but he depends on the men who sprang to arms 
 when the Northern war-drum sounded, to sup 
 ply these bounty-jumping recruits with courage 
 and to teach them their duty. Take the volun 
 teers away from the Army of the Potomac, and 
 Lee could drown the rest of this army in the 
 James River without firing a shot." 
 
 " Drown them ! " exclaimed a young soldier 
 who was raised on the shores of Sunapee Lake 
 in New Hampshire. " Drown them ! Curse 
 them! I am afraid to fight with any of 
 them standing by my side. There is a man 
 from Manchester, who was paid $1,000 for en 
 listing, whose place in line is next to me. It 
 keeps me busy to hold him from running away 
 
194 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 whenever we are under fire. Some day he will 
 be so badly frightened that he will run toward 
 the Confederates instead of away from them, 
 and then I am going to kill him. If ever he 
 gets a little ahead of me, so that I can safely 
 kill him, I will gather him in." No one seemed 
 to be shocked at his intention. " Drown 
 them ? " he scornfully repeated ; " Lee s vet 
 erans drown them ? Yes, they could push 
 them into the James River with pine poles, 
 and as they sank they would howl for mercy 
 in twenty-seven languages. See here, men/ he 
 added, impressively, " if Grant ever intends to 
 take yonder earthworks," jerking his thumb 
 over his shoulder to indicate the Confederate 
 lines, " he has got to give these bounty-jumpers 
 about six months of steady drilling, six months 
 of severe discipline, six months of punishment 
 and savage abuse. They have got to be pound 
 ed and hammered until they are in abject fear 
 of their line officers and are taught that to 
 shrink means death. If Grant gives them that, 
 they can be made to fight next spring. Good 
 God, men ! " he exclaimed, " I was sent to City 
 Point the other day, and I passed a short column 
 of troops who were moving to the front, and I 
 saw dozens of the men fall out and endeavor 
 
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 1 95 
 
 to hide in the brush and woods. Behind the 
 column came a detachment of the provost 
 guards, and these soldiers had to pick up and 
 head off and surround the abject wretches who 
 sought to hide long before they were within 
 sight of the line of fire. They were panic- 
 stricken at the prospect of fighting. They 
 had to be prodded with bayonets to make 
 them follow the column. Things have come 
 to a pretty pass in this army if a column of 
 troops cannot be moved from one camp to an 
 other without being herded as sheep driven 
 along a highway ! American volunteers ! " he 
 scornfully exclaimed ; " American volunteers, 
 and marched to camp or to battle under provost 
 guards ! They are not Americans, they are not 
 volunteers : they are the offscouring of Europe. 
 They disgrace our uniform." Here his scorn 
 overcame him. He spat on the ground, arose 
 and disappeared in the forest with a yell of dis 
 gust. And I knew that every word he had 
 uttered was true. 
 
 Throughout the latter portion of the cam 
 paign the enlisted men, the volunteers, com 
 plained bitterly of the lack of judgment dis 
 played by some of the commanding officers, 
 and as freely as I talked with my comrades, as 
 
1^6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 dirty, vermin-infested, and hungry we sat be 
 hind our earthworks, so freely do I claim the 
 right to write now. I have faithfully endeav 
 ored to tell how the enlisted men, who put down 
 the slaveholders rebellion, felt and talked and 
 lived in hopes long deferred and never fulfilled, 
 of the coming of a great commander whose 
 military talent would command our unquali 
 fied respect. He never came. 
 
XI. 
 
 HOW MEN DIE IN BATTLE. 
 
 ALMOST every death on the battle-field is 
 different. And the manner of the death 
 depends on the wound and on the man, whether 
 he is cowardly or brave, whether his vitality is 
 large or small, whether he is a man of active 
 imagination or is dull of intellect, whether he 
 is of nervous or lymphatic temperament. I 
 instance deaths and wounds that I saw in 
 Grant s last campaign. 
 
 On the second day of the battle of the Wil 
 derness, where I fought as an infantry soldier, 
 I saw more men killed and wounded than I did 
 before or after in the same time. I knew but 
 few of the men in the regiment in whose ranks 
 I stood ; but I learned the Christian names of 
 some of them. The man who stood next to 
 me on my right was called Will. He was cool, 
 brave, and intelligent. In the morning, when 
 the Second Corps was advancing and driving 
 Hill s soldiers slowly back, I was flurried. He 
 197 
 
IQ8 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 noticed it, and steadied my nerves by saying, 
 kindly: "Don t fire so fast. This fight will 
 last all day. Don t hurry. Cover your man 
 before you pull your trigger. Take it easy, 
 my boy, take it easy, and your cartridges will 
 last the longer." This man fought effectively. 
 During the day I had learned to look up to this 
 excellent soldier, and lean on him. Toward 
 evening, as we were being slowly driven back 
 to the Brock Road by Longstreet s men, we 
 made a stand. I was behind a tree firing, with 
 my rifle barrel resting on the stub of a limb. 
 Will was standing by my side, but in the open. 
 He, with a groan, doubled up and dropped on 
 the ground at my feet. He looked up at me. 
 His face was pale. He gasped for breath a few 
 times, and then said, faintly : " That ends me. 
 I am shot through the bowels." I said : " Crawl 
 to the rear. We are not far from the intrench- 
 ments along the Brock Road." I saw him sit 
 up, and indistinctly saw him reach for his rifle, 
 which had fallen from his hands as he fell. 
 Again I spoke to him, urging him to go to the 
 rear. He looked at me and said impatiently: 
 " I tell you that I am as good as dead. There 
 is no use in fooling with me. I shall stay here." 
 Then he pitched forward dead, shot again and 
 
HO W MEN DIE IN BA TTLE. 1 99 
 
 through the head. We fell back before Long- 
 street s soldiers and left Will lying in a windrow 
 of dead men. 
 
 When we got into the Brock Road intrench- 
 ments, a man a few files to my left dropped 
 dead, shot just above the right eye. He did 
 not groan, or sigh, or make the slightest physical 
 movement, except that his chest heaved a few 
 times. The life went out of his face instantly, 
 leaving it without a particle of expression. It 
 was plastic, and, as the facial muscles con 
 tracted, it took many shapes. When this 
 man s body became cold, and his face hard 
 ened, it was horribly distorted, as though he 
 had suffered intensely. Any person who had 
 not seen him killed, would have said that he 
 had endured supreme agony before death re 
 leased him. A few minutes after he fell, an 
 other man, a little farther to the left, fell with 
 apparently a precisely similar wound. He was 
 straightened out and lived for over an hour. 
 He did not speak. Simply lay on his back, and 
 his broad chest rose and fell, slowly at first, 
 and then faster and faster, and more and more 
 feebly, until he was dead. And his face hard 
 ened, and it was almost terrifying in its painful 
 distortion. I have seen dead soldiers faces 
 
2OO RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 which were wreathed in smiles, and heard their 
 comrades say that they had died happy. I do 
 not believe that the face of a dead soldier, lying 
 on a battle-field, ever truthfully indicates the 
 mental or physical anguish, or peacefulness of 
 mind, which he suffered or enjoyed before his 
 death. The face is plastic after death, and as 
 the facial muscles cool and contract, they draw 
 the face into many shapes. Sometimes the 
 dead smile, again they stare with glassy eyes, 
 and lolling tongues, and dreadfully distorted 
 visages at you. It goes for nothing. One death 
 was as painless as the other. 
 
 After Longstreet s soldiers had driven the 
 Second Corps into their intrenchments along 
 the Brock Road, a battle-exhausted infantry 
 man stood behind a large oak tree. His back 
 rested against it. He was very tired, and held 
 his rifle loosely in his hand. The Confederates 
 were directly in our front. This soldier was 
 apparently in perfect safety. A solid shot 
 from a Confederate gun struck the oak tree 
 squarely about four feet from the ground ; but 
 it did not have sufficient force to tear through 
 the tough wood. The soldier fell dead. There 
 was not a scratch on him. He was killed by 
 concussion. 
 
HO W MEN DIE IN BA TTLE. 2O I 
 
 While we were fighting savagely over these 
 intrenchments the woods in our front caught 
 fire, and I saw many of our wounded burned to 
 death. Must they not have suffered horribly ? 
 I am not at all sure of that. The smoke rolled 
 heavily and slowly before the fire. It enveloped 
 the wounded, and I think that by far the larger 
 portion of the men who were roasted were 
 suffocated before the flames curled round them. 
 The spectacle was courage-sapping and pitiful, 
 and it appealed strongly to the imagination of 
 the spectators; but I do not believe that the 
 wounded soldiers, who were being burned, suf 
 fered greatly, if they suffered at all. 
 
 Wounded soldiers, it mattered not how slight 
 the wounds, generally hastened away from the 
 battle lines. A wound entitled a man to go to 
 the rear and to a hospital. Of course there 
 were many exceptions to this rule, as there 
 would necessarily be in battles where from 
 twenty thousand to thirty thousand men were 
 wounded. I frequently saw slightly wounded 
 men who were marching with their colors. I 
 personally saw but two men wounded who 
 continued to fight. During the first day s 
 fighting in the wilderness I saw a youth of 
 about twenty years skip and yell, stung by a 
 
202 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 bullet through the thigh. He turned to limp 
 to the rear. After he had gone a few steps he 
 stopped, then he kicked out his leg once or 
 twice to see if it would work. Then he tore 
 the clothing away from his leg so as to see the 
 wound. He looked at it attentively for an in 
 stant, then kicked out his leg again, then turned 
 and took his place in the ranks and resumed 
 firing. There was considerable disorder in the 
 line, and the soldiers moved to and fro now a 
 few feet to the right, now a few feet to the left. 
 One of these movements brought me directly 
 behind this wounded soldier. I could see 
 plainly from that position, and I pushed into 
 the gaping line and began firing. In a minute 
 or two the wounded soldier dropped his rifle, 
 and, clasping his left arm, exclaimed : " I am 
 hit again ! " He sat down behind the battle 
 ranks and tore off the sleeve of his shirt. The 
 wound was very slight not much more than 
 skin deep. He tied his handkerchief around it, 
 picked up his rifle, and took position alongside 
 of me. I said : " You are fighting in bad luck 
 to-day. You had better get away from here." 
 He turned his head to answer me. His head 
 jerked, he staggered, then fell, then regained 
 his feet. A tiny fountain of blood and teeth 
 
HO W MEN DIE IN BA TTLE. 2O3 
 
 and bone and bits of tongue burst out of his 
 mouth. He had been shot through the jaws ; 
 the lower one was broken and hung down. I 
 looked directly into his open mouth, which was 
 ragged and bloody and tongueless. He cast 
 his rifle furiously on the ground and staggered 
 off. 
 
 The next day, just before Longstreet s sol 
 diers made their first charge on the Second 
 Corps, I heard the peculiar cry a stricken man 
 utters as the bullet tears through his flesh. I 
 turned my head, as I loaded my rifle, to see 
 who was hit. I saw a bearded Irishman pull 
 up his shirt. He had been wounded in the left 
 side just below the floating ribs. His face was 
 gray with fear. The wound looked as though 
 it were mortal. He looked at it for an instant, 
 then poked it gently with his index finger. He 
 flushed redly, and smiled with satisfaction. He 
 tucked his shirt into his trousers, and was fight 
 ing in the ranks again before I had capped my 
 rifle. The ball had cut a groove in his skin 
 only. The play of this Irishman s face was so 
 expressive, his emotions changed so quickly, 
 that I could not keep from laughing. 
 
 Near Spottsylvania I saw, as my battery was 
 moving into action, a group of wounded men 
 
204 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 lying in the shade cast by some large oak trees. 
 All of these men s faces were gray. They si 
 lently looked at us as we marched past them. 
 One wounded man, a blond giant of about 
 forty years, was smoking a short briar-wood 
 pipe. He had a firm grip on the pipe-stem. I 
 asked him what he was doing. " Having my 
 last smoke, young fellow," he replied. His 
 dauntless blue eyes met mine, and he bravely 
 tried to smile. I saw that he was dying fast. 
 Another of these wounded men was trying to 
 read a letter. He was too weak to hold it, or 
 maybe his sight was clouded. He thrust it 
 unread into the breast pocket of his blouse, and 
 lay back with a moan. This group of wounded 
 men numbered fifteen or twenty. At the time, 
 I thought that all of them were fatally wound 
 ed, and that there was no use in the surgeons 
 wasting time on them, when men who could be 
 saved were clamoring for their skilful atten 
 tion. None of these soldiers cried aloud, none 
 called on wife, or mother, or father. They lay 
 on the ground, pale-faced, and with set jaws, 
 waiting for their end. They moaned and 
 groaned as they suffered, but none of them 
 flunked. When my battery returned from the 
 front, five or six hours afterward, almost all of 
 
HO W MEN DIE IN BA TTLE. 20$ 
 
 these men were dead. Long before the cam 
 paign was over I concluded that dying soldiers 
 seldom called on those who were dearest to 
 them, seldom conjured their Northern or South 
 ern homes, until they became delirious. Then, 
 when their minds wandered, and fluttered at 
 the approach of freedom, they babbled of their 
 homes. Some were boys again, and were fish 
 ing in Northern trout streams. Some were gen 
 erals leading their men to victory. Some were 
 with their wives and children. Some wandered 
 over their family s homestead ; but all, with 
 rare exceptions, were delirious. 
 
 At the North Anna River, my battery being 
 in action, an infantry soldier, one of our sup 
 ports, who was lying face downward close be 
 hind the gun I served on, and in a place where 
 he thought he was safe, was struck on the thighs 
 by a large jagged piece of a shell. The wound 
 made by this fragment of iron was as horrible 
 as any I saw in the army. The flesh of both 
 thighs was torn off, exposing the bones. The 
 soldier bled to death in a few minutes, and be 
 fore he died he conjured his Northern home, 
 and murmured of his wife and children. 
 
 In the same battle, but on the south side of 
 the river, a man who carried a rifle was passing 
 
206 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 between the guns and caissons of the battery. 
 A solid shot, intended for us, struck him on the 
 side. His entire bowels were torn out and 
 slung in ribbons and shreds on the ground. 
 He fell dead, but his arms and legs jerked con 
 vulsively a few times. It was a sickening spec 
 tacle. During this battle I saw a Union picket 
 knocked down, probably by a rifle-ball striking 
 his head and glancing from it. He lay as 
 though dead. Presently he struggled to his 
 feet, and with blood streaming from his head, 
 he staggered aimlessly round and round in a 
 circle, as sheep afflicted with grubs in the brain 
 do. Instantly the Confederate sharp-shooters 
 opened fire on him and speedily killed him as 
 he circled. 
 
 Wounded soldiers almost always tore their 
 clothing away from their wounds, so as to see 
 them and to judge of their character. Many of 
 them would smile and their faces would bright 
 en as they realized that they were not hard hit, 
 and that they could go home for a few months. 
 Others would give a quick glance at their 
 wounds and then shrink back as from a blow, 
 and turn pale, as they realized the truth that 
 they were mortally wounded. The enlisted 
 men were exceedingly accurate judges of the 
 
HO W MEN DIE IN BA TTLE>. 2O/ 
 
 probable result which would ensue from any 
 wound they saw. They had seen hundreds of 
 soldiers wounded, and they had noticed that 
 certain wounds always resulted fatally. They 
 knew when they were fatally wounded, and 
 after the shock of discovery had passed, they 
 generally braced themselves and died in a man 
 ly manner. It was seldom that an American 
 or Irish volunteer flunked in the presence of 
 death. 
 
XII. 
 
 EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 MY experience as an enlisted man during 
 Grant s last campaign ended when I 
 left City Point, Virginia. I write this and the 
 succeeding chapters to present certain condi 
 tions and facts in the war, which fell within my 
 personal experience, and which, I think, merit 
 permanent record. 
 
 I arrived in Washington June 25, 1864, and 
 re-enlisted in the United States Army the same 
 day. I spent six days in my father s house, 
 sleeping and fighting off fever. On June 3Oth, I 
 was appointed Second Lieutenant in the Fourth 
 United States Artillery, and a verbal leave of 
 absence was granted to me by Secretary of War 
 Stanton, whom I found, contrary to my expec 
 tation, to be a very kind and pleasant-spoken 
 gentleman. 
 
 About July 1st, a rumor circulated through 
 Washington that our troops had met with a 
 208 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 2OQ 
 
 serious disaster in the neighborhood of Mar- 
 tinsburg. Then men whispered one to the 
 other that a large Confederate army was rava 
 ging the southern border of Pennsylvania, and 
 that Washington was threatened. There was 
 great uneasiness in the capitol. President Lin 
 coln called on the States of New York, Pennsyl 
 vania, and Massachusetts for troops to aid in 
 repelling the invasion. The rumors grew 
 thicker and thicker, and all of them were un 
 favorable to the Union cause. The only report 
 we could rely on was that Early s corps, of the 
 Army of Northern Virginia, had been detached 
 by Lee to drive the Union forces out of Shen- 
 andoah Valley, to ravage Southern Pennsyl 
 vania, and to capture the national capitol, if 
 possible. Washington was in an uproar. In 
 the morning we heard that Early was at a cer 
 tain point. At night he was reported as being 
 fifty miles from there. To-day his army was 
 alleged to number 30,000 men. On the morrow, 
 pale-faced, anxious men solemnly asserted that 
 certain information had been received at the 
 War Department that at least 50,000 veteran 
 soldiers were marching with Early. Late at 
 night on July Qth, I was sitting in Willard s 
 Hotel. An excited man walked rapidly in and 
 
210 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 told the group in which I was talking, that our 
 army, under General Lew Wallace, had been 
 disastrously defeated on the Monocacy by 
 Early, and that our disordered troops were in 
 full retreat on Baltimore. Later we heard that 
 Wallace s army had been annihilated. Still 
 later that the government s books, records, 
 and money were being packed in boxes pre 
 paratory to its flight to New York. Almost 
 every man I met that night believed that the 
 Confederate guns would be thundering at the 
 capital in less than twenty-four hours. 
 
 The next morning the report of our defeat 
 on the Monocacy was confirmed, and the ex 
 citement in the city grew more and more 
 intense. Men stood in groups on street cor 
 ners, in hotel lobbies, in newspaper offices, and 
 in drinking saloons, and discussed the military 
 situation. Officers rode furiously up and down 
 the streets, and swarmed around the War De 
 partment. I began to think that maybe Early 
 would make a dash at Washington. So I 
 walked to the War Department and reported 
 for duty. I was greatly astonished at the 
 authentic news I heard. War Department 
 officials told me that General Auger, who had 
 command of the troops at Washington, did not 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 211 
 
 have 5,000 stanch, veteran soldiers with which 
 to defend the entire line, which was about 
 thirty miles long. He had a few loo-day 
 men, a few quartermaster employes, and some 
 disabled soldiers, called veteran reserves. I 
 was assured that a successful defence of the 
 city could not be made, unless reinforcements 
 speedily arrived. Finally I was ordered to re 
 port for duty to the commanding officer of 
 Battery A Fourth United States Artillery, then 
 in garrison at Fort Totten, near Bladensburg. 
 
 Arrived at the fort, I found it was command 
 ed by a captain of a loo-day regiment from Ohio, 
 and that the regular army artillerists were 
 under his orders. This Ohio captain carried 
 matters with a light hand. He was anxious to 
 be advised, and cheerfully allowed the artillery 
 officers to do as they thought best in all mat 
 ters relative to the defence of the fort. Battery 
 A was commanded by handsome, songful Rufus 
 King. Howard B. Gushing, a brother of the 
 "Gettysburg" and the " Albemarle" Cushings, 
 was a second lieutenant in this battery. It 
 had been serving with Custer as horse artillery, 
 and had been badly cut up in front of Rich 
 mond, and had been sent to Washington for 
 rest. Neither the officers nor the men under- 
 
212 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 stood handling the large guns with which the 
 fort was armed. On the parade ground within 
 the fort were six brass James guns. We quickly 
 decided to use these in the threatened battle. 
 The magazine was opened. Barrels of powder 
 were brought out and rolled up and down, and 
 placed in the sunshine to thoroughly dry. 
 Shot and shell and stands of grape were 
 brought out, and all hands made cartridges for 
 the loo-pound Parrotts, and assorted the am 
 munition for the James guns, which were 
 placed in position on the side of the fort which 
 we expected to be attacked. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, July loth, word was 
 sent to us from Washington that Early was 
 marching with his entire army on the capital, 
 and that he was then near Rockville. That 
 evening the motliest crowd of soldiers I ever saw 
 came straggling out from Washington to man the 
 rifle-pits which connected the forts. This force 
 was composed of quartermaster s employe s, 
 clerks from the War, Navy, and State depart 
 ments, convalescents from the military hospi 
 tals, and veteran reserves, the latter clad in 
 the disheartening, sickly uniform of pale blue, 
 which was the distinctive dress of that corps. 
 (The Confederates aptly characterized these 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 2 
 
 disabled soldiers as " Condemned Yankees.") 
 There was little order or discipline among these 
 pretended soldiers. The sturdy Irishmen who 
 manned our guns and, who had been forged into 
 perfect soldiers by "Gettysburg" Gushing, 
 gazed at them with open-eyed astonishment. 
 They gabbled, and were evidently trying to 
 keep up their courage by talking loudly and 
 boastfully of their determination to hold the 
 rifle-pits at all hazards. I smiled sorrowfully 
 as I thought of the ease with which the Con 
 federates, veterans of twenty pitched-battles, 
 would drive them out of their earthworks. 
 The loo-day men who were in the fort were 
 somewhat nervous ; but they meant to fight, 
 and when they had been warmed in battle fire, 
 and men had begun to fall, they undoubtedly 
 would have fought stanchly. 
 
 That night, King, Gushing, and I slept on 
 the top of the magazine, and the cannoneers 
 slept on the ground by their guns. Early the 
 next morning we saw that a signal-station had 
 been established on the top of the Soldiers 
 Home, and that officers of the signal corps 
 were furiously waving flags to communicate in 
 formation to head-quarters. We knew that 
 important news was being waved through the 
 
214 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 air, but we could not read the signals. So we 
 began to search through our field-glasses for 
 the Confederate soldiers. We found them 
 soon. A body of Confederate cavalry rode 
 aimlessly to and fro along the edge of a wood, 
 about five miles from our fort. We saw their 
 artillery glisten in the sun. Soon smoke began 
 to rise in heavy columns behind them, and I 
 knew that they were burning houses. That 
 afternoon the Confederate infantry came in 
 sight, and formed a battle line. Portions of 
 this line were within range of some of the forts, 
 and heavy guns opened on it away off to our 
 left. This artillery practice, marked by the 
 bursting shells, was the poorest I ever saw. It 
 was evident that the department clerks or the 
 loo-day men were serving the guns. The Con 
 federates did not pay the slightest attention to 
 this fire. Their skirmishers, a cloud of them, 
 advanced a short distance froin their main line, 
 and then sank out of sight . 
 
 We grew anxious. I knew that Early, who 
 had about eighteen thousand veteran soldiers 
 with him, could break our line whenever he 
 saw fit to strike it. I knew that he could 
 capture Washington, in two hours, if he de 
 termined to take thfe> national capital. How 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 21$ 
 
 we fumed and fretted ! Before sunrise on July 
 1 2th we saw that Early *s men were in motion. 
 They moved slowly toward our intrenchments, 
 with a heavy line of skirmishers preceding their 
 battle line. These skirmishers drove our pick 
 ets before them with great ease. The Con 
 federate battle line advanced until they were 
 within long-cannon range of the forts. Their 
 skirmishers were within rifle range, and Con 
 federate bullets occasionally sang above us. 
 Many heavy guns opened on the battle line. 
 It halted, and the men lay down in the grass, 
 among bushes, and behind buildings. Ammu 
 nition was in plentiful supply in Fort Totten, 
 and we manned three one-hundred-pound Par- 
 rott guns, and wasted a: ton of shells to get the 
 range and to burn a few vision-obscuring houses 
 which stood on the ground over which we ex 
 pected the charge to be made. Through our 
 glasses we could see the disposition of Early s 
 troops. We three young artillery officers sat 
 on the magazine and studied his line. We 
 speedily saw that his troops were not formed 
 in charging column ; saw that there was no re 
 serve ; saw that there was no eager hurrying to 
 and fro of soldiers ; saw that there was no pre 
 paratory bustle ; saw, that though the Confed- 
 
2l6 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 erate skirmishers were far in advance of the 
 main line, they were not pushing our pickets, 
 and were not firing with earnestness. Evident 
 ly there was to be no serious fighting that morn 
 ing. We continued to shell the Confederate 
 line without a particle of effect, unless to excite 
 the contempt of veteran soldiers. 
 
 Toward evening General Auger drew a heavy 
 body of troops from our thin defensive line, 
 and sent them out to feel of Early s men. 
 Naturally the latter objected to being felt of. 
 So they promptly killed and wounded three 
 hundred of Auger s men. These having had 
 enough of dallying with savage-tempered and 
 veteran Confederate infantry, skurried back to 
 our intrenchments. 
 
 Next morning opened with a heavy fire from 
 the forts to our left, and more houses were 
 burned. The position of the Confederate 
 pickets, marked by rifle flashes and tiny puffs of 
 powder-smoke, was apparently unchanged ; but 
 their main line had been drawn back to the shel 
 ter of the woods. We were anxiously debating 
 the question : " Is Early forming his soldiers 
 into a charging column ? " when we heard a 
 clatter of galloping horses, and a signal corps of 
 ficer and two enlisted men rode up to the gate of 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. 21? 
 
 the fort and demanded admittance. Admitted, 
 they clambered on to the magazine. Eager for 
 news, we assailed the officer with questions. 
 He told us that the Union people in Washing 
 ton had been panic-stricken ; that the govern 
 ment had been ready to leave the city ; that 
 the money and books had been packed prepara 
 tory to shipment north ; that the majority of 
 the masculine portion of the entire city had got 
 wildly drunk and kept so ; and that the Sixth 
 Corps was coming up the Potomac River to the 
 defence of Washington. He began to wave his 
 flags. The signal flags on top of the Soldiers 
 Home waved back in answer, and as they waved 
 the signal officer slowly read out the message, 
 word by word : " Transports loaded with troops 
 in sight." About seven o clock the flags which 
 were on top of the Soldiers Home waved brisk 
 ly. The signal corps officer answered an in 
 quiring look by reading aloud : " Sixth Corps 
 disembarking. Troops marching for the front." 
 Now we were as anxious for Early to assault 
 our works, as we had been fearful of his doing 
 so the previous day. We had the Sixth Corps, 
 stanch, determined fighters, at our backs. We 
 were no longer fearful of our supports running 
 away in panic. Again the flags waved. Again 
 
2l8 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 the signal officer read to us : " Infantry turned 
 into Seventh Street. All troops marching to 
 the front." I could have hugged that signal 
 corps officer. He rolled up his flags, bade us 
 good day, and smilingly said : " Gentlemen, 
 you are saved from the mortification of losing 
 your fort. And, thank God! Washington is 
 saved from capture." He turned, mounted his 
 horse, and rode out of the fort. 
 
 Down the road, away past the Soldiers 
 Home, we heard faint strains of martial music. 
 Then we saw a column of dust rising. It rose 
 high above the trees, high above the houses. 
 Then its head was thrust into sight, a few dust- 
 obscured officers riding in advance, the dust 
 sloping upward and backward from them. Close 
 behind them came a large banner, blazoned 
 with a great crimson cross. It was the flag of 
 the First Division of the Sixth Corps. Clouds 
 of dust rolled heavily upward, almost obscuring 
 it at times, but I watched it intently, and my 
 throat filled, and my heart thumped. The Con 
 federate skirmishers disappeared. The Sixth 
 Corps marched on to the battle-ground, formed 
 line, and, preceded by hundreds of skirmishers, 
 advanced. Alas, too late ! The last Confed 
 erates had hastened after their leader, and 
 
EARLY IN FRONT OF WASHINGTON. .219 
 
 were well on their way to the Shenandoah 
 Valley. 
 
 Could Early have captured Washington on 
 June ii 12, 1864? I unhesitatingly answer, 
 yes. I supplement this by saying that he could 
 have taken the city without losing more than 
 one thousand men. But if he had taken it, his 
 poorly clad, poorly fed, impoverished men 
 would inevitably have gone to plundering, 
 would inevitably have gotten drunk and stayed 
 drunk, and he would have lost his entire army. 
 
XIII. 
 
 THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELMIRA. 
 
 AFTER General Early had withdrawn his 
 soldiers from the front of Washington, 
 Battery A Fourth United States Artillery 
 joined the artillery reserve then lying in Camp 
 Barry, near Washington. Life in Camp Barry 
 was exceedingly monotonous, and enlisted men 
 and officers alike were impatient to be ordered 
 to active service. There was joy in the camp, 
 one afternoon in late fall, when an order came, 
 directing the commanding officer of Battery 
 A to go at once to Elmira, New York, with 
 a section of artillery, and to report for duty 
 to the commanding officer of that post. The 
 senior lieutenant, Rufus King, was absent on 
 leave. Lieutenant Cushing, eager to get out 
 of Washington, ordered me to get a section 
 in marching order. I did so, and we marched 
 to the railroad station, and loaded the guns, 
 caissons, and horses on the cars, and left Wash- 
 
 220 
 
THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELM IRA. 221 
 
 ington in less than two hours after receiving 
 the order. 
 
 We had heard that the Confederate soldiers 
 who were confined in the military prison at El- 
 mira were somewhat unruly, and next day, when 
 we reported for duty to a loo-day colonel, we 
 were not surprised to hear that the prisoners 
 were insubordinate, and that an outbreak was 
 imminent. We marched the battery to the mili 
 tary prison. There we found about twelve thou 
 sand Confederate prisoners, who were confined 
 in a large stockade, inside of which were many 
 barracks, and through which the Chemung 
 River flowed. The stockade, made of logs set 
 deeply in the ground on end and standing side 
 by side, was about twelve feet high. About 
 four feet below the top of the stockade, on the 
 outside, was a platform, guarded by a handrail, 
 which extended around the prison. This plat 
 form was studded by sentry-boxes at short in 
 tervals. On it sentinels walked to and fro, day 
 and night, and watched the prisoners. During 
 the night they, at half hour intervals, loudly 
 called the number to their post, and announced 
 that all was well. It was almost dark when we 
 arrived at the prison, and we parked the guns 
 in an open space near the stockade. Around 
 
222 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 us were many camps, which were occupied 
 by disorderly, undrilled loo-day men. We 
 speedily discovered that there was a lack 
 of discipline in the prison. The Confederates 
 were ugly-tempered and rebellious. That night 
 they gathered ih mobs, and the Confederate 
 charging-yell rang out clearly. They threw 
 stones at the sentinels. They refused to go 
 into their barracks. Evidently they knew that 
 the men who guarded them were not soldiers. 
 The uproar increased in volume. I was con 
 fident that the prisoners intended to break out 
 that night. Our guns were placed in battery, 
 and the ammunition chests opened. We wait 
 ed, and waited, and waited, and finally I rode 
 over to an infantry camp in search of informa 
 tion, and there found a loo-day colonel, who 
 was playing cribbage with a sergeant. I asked 
 the meaning of the uproar in the prison, and 
 the colonel said, indifferently : " Oh, that is 
 nothing ! They generally make twice as much 
 noise," and he continued to move his pegs up 
 and down the cribbage-board. I returned to 
 camp greatly disgusted. 
 
 The next day Cushing and I went into the 
 prison, and after carefully examining it, con 
 cluded that if an attempt to break guard was 
 
THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELM IRA. 223 
 
 made it would be directed against the point 
 where the river left the stockade. As we* 
 walked slowly around the prison, groups of 
 Confederates looked curiously at us and talked 
 insultingly about us. One crowd of men fol 
 lowed us to the river bank and jeered us as we in 
 spected the stockade there. Gushing lost his 
 temper and turned savagely to face them, and 
 
 said in a low, clear voice : " See here, ! 
 
 I am just up from the front, where I have been 
 killing such infernal wretches as you are. I have 
 met you in twenty battles. I never lost a gun 
 to you. You never drove a battery I served 
 with from its position. You are a crowd of in 
 solent, cowardly scoundrels, and if I had com 
 mand of this prison I would discipline you, 
 or kill you, and I should much prefer to kill 
 you. I have brought a battery of United 
 States artillery to this pen, and if you will 
 give me occasion I will be glad to dam that 
 river," pointing to the Chemung, "with your 
 worthless carcasses, and silence your insolent 
 tongues forever. I fully understand that you 
 are presuming on your position as prisoners of 
 war when you talk to me as you have ; but," 
 and here his hand shook warningly in the faces 
 of the group, " you have reached the end of 
 
224 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 your rope with me. I will kill the first man of 
 you who again speaks insultingly to me while I 
 am in this pen, and I shall be here daily. Now, 
 go to your quarters." And they went. We re 
 turned to our camp, moved the guns to a posi 
 tion which commanded the river, and then rear 
 ranged the ammunition, putting all the canister 
 in the chests of the gun limbers. And then we 
 waited for the expected outbreak. 
 
 A military prison, it matters not what people 
 keep it, is not a place where life is enjoyed. 
 The prisoners are enemies, and their keepers 
 care but little for their lives or comfort. It 
 is probable that we fed the Confederate pris 
 oners better than they fed Union prisoners. 
 Personally I know nothing of life in Confed 
 erate military prisons, as I was not captured. I 
 saw many thousands of our soldiers shortly after 
 they were exchanged. By far the larger portion 
 of these men were in good condition and fit for 
 service. It is true that many of them were dis 
 eased and almost dead when they were deliv 
 ered to us, and these soldiers were grouped and 
 photographed, very unfairly I think, and the 
 illustrated papers which reproduced these pho 
 tographs were widely circulated throughout the 
 Northern States. I met no Union soldier who 
 
THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELM IRA. 22$ 
 
 had been confined in a Confederate military 
 prison, who thought it to be a pleasant re 
 treat ; and I know that the military prison at 
 Elmira was a place to be avoided by men of 
 good taste. The prisoners, it was alleged, were 
 allowed the same rations, excepting coffee and 
 sugar, that their guards received. They did 
 not get it. I repeatedly saw the Confederate 
 prisoners draw their provisions, and they never 
 got more than two thirds rations. Many of 
 them were diseased, many were slightly wound 
 ed, many were feeble and worn out with cam 
 paigning in Virginia, and many more were 
 home-sick ; and these men died as sheep with 
 the rot. Almost daily a wagon piled high with 
 pine coffins/ entered the stockade, and these 
 coffins were filled with dead Confederates. 
 The sound men, the men of vigorous con 
 stitution, and those possessing aggressive 
 minds, endured prison life without suffering 
 greatly ; and this I suspect was true of Union 
 soldiers confined in Confederate prisons. The 
 winter of 186465 was exceedingly cold. The 
 Confederate prisoners, thinly clad, enfeebled 
 by campaigning, and further weakened by in 
 sufficient supplies of food, were unable to en 
 dure the cold of a Northern winter. They 
 
226 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 died by the hundred. They were mentally 
 depressed, and the inevitable result followed. 
 Their wounds became gangrenous and they 
 died ; they were home-sick and they died ; they 
 contracted pneumonia and died. Fever stalked 
 among them and struck hundreds of them 
 down. Bowel disorders carried off other hun 
 dreds. I have seen groups of battle-worn, home 
 sick Confederates, their thin blankets drawn 
 tightly around their shoulders, stand in the lee 
 of a barrack for an hour without speaking to 
 one another. They stood motionless and gazed 
 into one another s haggard faces with despairing 
 eyes. There was no need to talk, as all topics 
 of conversation had long since been exhausted. 
 The majority of the prisoners were exceed 
 ingly ignorant. Many of them could not read 
 or write. I often admired the military skill 
 displayed by the Confederate officers in forging 
 these ignorant men into the almost perfect 
 soldiers they were. The discipline in the Con 
 federate armies must have been exceedingly 
 severe to have enabled their officers to control 
 these reckless, savage-tempered men. The 
 prisoners at Elmira were exclusively Ameri 
 cans. I did not see a foreign-born citizen in 
 that prison. These soldiers were penniless. 
 
THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELMIRA. 22/ 
 
 They could not buy clothing or articles of prime 
 necessity. They were eager to work, to earn 
 money to buy tobacco. On pleasant days a 
 few hundred of them were employed outside 
 the stockade in digging ditches and trenches 
 which were never used. For this work they 
 were paid about twenty-five cents per day, 
 which sum they promptly invested in tobacco. 
 I have seen the prisoners display as much 
 eagerness to secure this employment, as free 
 men would to secure remunerative positions 
 of trust. And they worked faithfully and 
 honestly, and earned their scanty pay. Thinly 
 clad, with their blankets wound around them 
 instead of overcoats, poorly fed, hopeless, these 
 unfortunate soldiers swung heavy picks, and 
 bent low over their shovels, as the cold wind 
 swept through- their emaciated frames as 
 through a sieve. It was pitiful to see the 
 poverty-stricken Confederates breaking the 
 hard, frost-bound earth, while armed sentinels 
 passed to and fro about them, and a battery of 
 artillery moved swiftly over the frozen plain in 
 menacing drill. 
 
 Outside of the stockade, and on the other 
 side of the road, two tall wooden towers had 
 been built by some enterprising Yankees. The 
 
228 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 owners of these buildings made a profitable 
 show of the Confederate prisoners. Daily their 
 tops were thronged with curious spectators, 
 who paid ten cents each to look into the prison 
 pen. A few weeks after these towers were 
 built, I noticed that a young and handsome 
 woman visited one of them daily, and waved 
 her handkerchief frequently. It was evident 
 to me that she was communicating with the 
 prisoners, probably to her friends or relatives 
 who were confined in the stockade. One night 
 seven or eight Confederates escaped from the 
 prison by crawling through a tunnel that they 
 had dug, and were seen no more. I was 
 exceedingly glad that these men had escaped. 
 The young woman disappeared also. Then I 
 reported what I had seen, and the towers were 
 closed by military orders. 
 
 One night the uproar in the stockade was 
 terrific. A rifle shot rang out clearly. I heard 
 a sentinel on post call for the officer of the 
 guard. The long roll sounded in the infantry 
 camps. The noise of infantry falling into line 
 hummed in the air. The night was intensely 
 dark. I stood in the door of my tent listening 
 to the uproar in the Confederate pen. I judged 
 that the prisoners were divided into two groups ; 
 one standing by the river bank, the other near 
 
THE MILITARY PRISON AT ELM IRA. 2 29 
 
 the gate. Both groups were yelling at the top 
 of their voices. Some of the soldiers of the 
 regular brigade, which had been sent from the 
 Army of the Potomac to assist in guarding the 
 prisoners, were on duty that night. And I 
 heard these cool veterans caution the Con 
 federates not to cross the dead-line, and to re 
 peatedly tell them to stand back or they would 
 fire on them. Another shot rang out clearly. 
 My battery bugler, a Jew, named Samuels, 
 came to me, bugle in hand. " Blow Boots and 
 Saddles," I said. Instantly the artillery camp 
 was alive. Half-dressed men sprang to the 
 guns, horses were harnessed and saddled. I 
 called an old sergeant to me and said : " Trail 
 No. 2 gun on the stockade near the river, 
 and if the prisoners break out, dose the head 
 of the column with double canister until they 
 run over your gun. Fire a blank cartridge 
 to summon Lieutenant Gushing and the en 
 listed men, who are in town, to the battery. 
 I will take No. I gun close to the stock 
 ade and smash the flank of the column to 
 flinders if it comes out. I will burn a lantern 
 by the gun so as to mark my position." The 
 sergeant moved off in the darkness. I saw the 
 flash of his gun, heard a shot scream close 
 above my head, and then heard the crash of 
 
230 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 timber as the shot tore through a barrack, and 
 this was followed by cries of alarm. I heard 
 the Confederates cry : " Look out, the artillery 
 has opened ! " Instantly the uproar ceased. 
 The great prison was as silent as death, and 
 instantly I knew I was in a scrape, and would 
 probably be court-martialed for firing on the 
 prisoners. Out of town came Gushing, his 
 hor.se in a lather. I explained to him what 
 had happened. He looked soberly at me for 
 an instant, and then said : " You will be court- 
 martialed, sure. You must get to your own 
 battery at once (I belonged to Battery H), and 
 get off before the loo-day officers prefer charges 
 against you. Then we can talk them out of 
 it." An officer from head-quarters rode up and 
 complained bitterly of the outrage of firing on 
 the prisoners. From him we learned that it 
 was a stone instead of a shot that had been 
 fired into the prison. Early the next morning 
 I left Elmira, having been ordered by a speedily 
 procured telegram to join Battery H, Fourth 
 United States Artillery, in the department of 
 the Cumberland. I afterwards learned that a 
 few Confederates were wounded by splinters 
 when the stone struck the barrack, and that they 
 never again made night hideous by their yells 
 and howls. 
 
XIV. 
 
 IN THE SOUTHWEST. 
 
 WHEN I arrived at Nashville, Tennessee, 
 I was told that my battery was at the 
 front, probably near Stevenson, Alabama. I 
 went to that town, and there met Lieutenant 
 John Stevenson, Fourth United States Artil 
 lery, whose temper was as sunny as his hair, 
 and he told me that my battery was with the 
 Fourth Corps, then marching on Huntsville, 
 Alabama, but that trie corps could not possibly 
 arrive there for two or three days. Stevenson 
 invited me to stay with him for a day, and I 
 accepted his invitation. 
 
 At Stevenson there was a large refugee 
 camp, where many women and children and a 
 few crippled or age-enfeebled men had sought 
 refuge from attacks by murderous bands of 
 guerrillas. The camp had probably been aban 
 doned when Hood swept north with his army, 
 and the refugees had sought shelter and food 
 231 
 
232 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 as best they could. Hood s army went to 
 pieces after being defeated at Nashville, and 
 the refugees again gathered at Stevenson. 
 Guerrillas infested the southern highlands. 
 These pretended soldiers, it mattered not 
 which uniform they disgraced by wearing, 
 were, almost without exception, robbers and 
 murderers, who sought to enrich themselves by 
 plundering their defenceless neighbors. They 
 rode through the southern highlands, killing 
 men, burning houses, stealing cattle and horses. 
 To-day a band of guerrillas, alleged Unionists, 
 ravaged a mountain district. They killed their 
 personal enemies, whom they said were Con 
 federate sympathizers, and destroyed their 
 property. To-morrow other guerrillas burned 
 Union men s houses, and shot so-called Union 
 men to death. This relentless, mountain war 
 fare was exceedingly hard on women and chil 
 dren. Agriculture was suspended in the high 
 lands. No man dared to till his lean fields for 
 fear that some hidden enemy might kill him. 
 No stack of unthrashed grain or garner of corn 
 Avas safe from the torch. The defenceless 
 women and children were starved out of their 
 homes, and they sought safety and food within 
 the Union lines. Our government established 
 
IJV THE SOUTHWEST. 233 
 
 extensive camps for these war-stricken South 
 erners. 
 
 Curious to see these people I spent a day in 
 camp at Stevenson. I saw hundreds of tall, 
 gaunt, frouzy-headed, snuff-dipping, pipe-smok 
 ing, unclean women. Some were clad in home 
 spun stuffs, others in calico, others in bagging. 
 Many of them were unshod. There were hun 
 dreds and hundreds of vermin-infested and su 
 premely dirty children in the camp. Some 
 families lived in tents, some in flimsy barracks. 
 All lived in discomfort. All drew rations from 
 the government. All were utterly poor. It 
 seemed that they were too poor to ever again 
 get a start in life. Haggard, wind- and sun- 
 and storm-burnt women, their gaunt forms 
 showing plainly through their rags, sat, or 
 lolled, or stood in groups, talking drawlingly. 
 Their features were as expressionless as wood, 
 their eyes lustreless. I talked to many of 
 these women. All told stories of murder, of 
 arson, of blood-curdling scenes. One, gray- 
 eyed, bony, square-jawed, barefooted, forty 
 years old, clad in a dirty, ragged, homespun 
 dress, sat on a log outside of a tent sucking a 
 corn-cob pipe. Her tow-headed children played 
 around her. She told me that before the war 
 
234 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 she and her husband owned a mountain farm, 
 where they lived in comfort ; that they owned 
 horses, cattle, and pigs, and raised plenty of 
 corn and tobacco. One day her husband, who 
 was a Union man, was shot dead as he stood 
 by her side in the door of their house. She 
 buried him in a grave she dug herself. She and 
 her children tended the crops. These were 
 burned shortly after they gathered them. Then 
 her swine were stolen, and her cows and horse 
 driven off. Finally her oldest son, a boy of 
 fourteen, was shot dead at the spring, and her 
 house and barn were burned in broad daylight, 
 and she and her children were left homeless and 
 without food on a desolate mountain side. 
 Many of her neighbors had been burned out 
 the same day. They joined forces and wan 
 dered down the mountain, hungry, cold, with 
 little children tugging at women s dresses, to a 
 Union camp. From there they had been sent 
 to Stevenson. Long before this woman had 
 finished her story she rose to her feet, her face 
 was white with intense passion, her eyes blazed 
 with fire, and her gaunt form quivered with ex 
 citement as she gesticulated savagely. She 
 said that if she lived, and her boys lived, that 
 she would have vengeance on the men who had 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 2$$ 
 
 murdered her husband and son, and destroyed 
 her home. As she talked so talked all. These 
 women were saturating their children s minds 
 with the stories of the wrongs they had endured. 
 I heard them repeat over and over to their 
 children the names of men which they were 
 never to forget, and whom they were to kill 
 when they had sufficient strength to hold a 
 rifle. The stolid manners, the wooden faces, 
 the lustreless eyes, the drawling speech of these 
 people, concealed the volcanoes of fire and 
 wrath which burned within their breasts. One 
 woman dramatically described the death of her 
 husband. The puff of powder smoke curling 
 above the clump of laurel, the reeling man with 
 blood gushing from his mouth, the digging of his 
 grave, the midnight burial, all were pictured. 
 These women, who had been driven from their 
 homes by the most savage warfare our country 
 has been cursed with, knew what war was, and 
 they impressed me as living wholly to revenge 
 their wrongs. It was easy to foresee the years 
 of bloodshed, of assassination, of family feuds, 
 that would spring from the recollections of the 
 war, handed from widowed mothers to savage- 
 tempered sons, in the mountain recesses of 
 Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, and Kentucky. 
 
236 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 And long after the war closed rifles continued 
 to crack in remote mountain glens, as the open 
 accounts between families were settled. 
 
 I started for Huntsville the next morning. 
 The railroad was dilapidated. Tiny columns of 
 mud spouted in the air as the wheels rolled over 
 the splintered rails. The train consisted of open 
 and box cars, which were loaded with veteran 
 soldiers returning to their commands. These 
 soldiers were almost without exception Ameri 
 cans, and were reckless and apparently indiffer 
 ent to danger. Two or three piles of clay were 
 thrown on each car, and the men tramped it into 
 rough hearths, about a foot thick and four feet 
 square, and built fires on them. Around these 
 fires the soldiers crowded to cook their rations. 
 At every station the supply of firewood we car 
 ried was added to. The bottom of the cars 
 charred and holes were formed. I expected 
 the train to catch fire and burn. The soldiers 
 sang wild and profane songs, and kept time 
 by sounding their ramrods in their musket bar 
 rels, or by softly tapping them with steel bay 
 onets. It begain to rain and the wind blew 
 strongly. These soldiers, exposed to the storm 
 on open cars, built their fires higher and sang 
 tunefully through it. They were courageous, 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 
 
 imaginative, reckless Western American volun 
 teers, an entirely different race of men from 
 their Eastern brothers. 
 
 About midnight the train halted at Paint 
 Rock River (the railroad bridge which spanned 
 that stream had been burned by guerrillas the 
 previous night, and some scores of army bridge- 
 builders were at work to replace it) and the 
 soldiers clambered off of the cars. They built 
 fires on the bank of the rapid, swollen stream, 
 and then, without an instant s hesitation, began 
 to build a raft, on which to cross the river. I 
 was greatly impressed by the self-reliant man 
 hood of these enlisted men. When the raft 
 was finished a number of men crowded on it 
 and poled it across the river. Fires by which 
 to see were built on the other side. The raft 
 was poled to and fro and the troops were slow 
 ly ferried across. Eager to cross, to get near 
 to their regiments, they frequently overloaded 
 the raft and it sank deeply in the water. Then 
 the soldiers would spring ashore or fall into the 
 river, out of which they swam, or were pulled 
 by their comrades. The result was inevitable. 
 On the sixth trip the raft was loaded so heavily 
 that the water was over the shoes of the sol 
 diers. It was safely poled to the middle of the 
 
238 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 stream. There it tilted, and with a howl the 
 soldiers slid into the water. Most of them 
 swam ashore, rifle in hand, or clambered back 
 on the raft. But I saw five men, who were 
 heavily laden with cartridges or could not 
 swim, sink into the cold water to be seen no 
 more. The men who had clambered on the 
 raft poled it back to shore and called for an 
 other cargo, and other men swarmed on to the 
 perilous craft. No one paid the slightest atten 
 tion to the drowned men. I saw that I could 
 not get across the river for hours, so I hung my 
 rubber blanket over a bush and sat under it to 
 watch the scene. The wind had ceased to 
 blow, and the rain fell gently. Great fires of 
 logs and railroad ties burned brightly. Scores 
 of bridge-builders worked in torch-relieved 
 darkness. Another train loaded with troops 
 came up, and these men rushed to the river s 
 bank. A thousand soldiers were grouped at 
 the river, and as they stood in the rain they 
 sang " John Brown " and kept time with sound 
 ing rifles. The two empty trains backed off. 
 Presently another train thundered down the 
 railroad track, and stopped on a high, rocky 
 embankment directly in front of me. It was 
 loaded with escaped negro slaves, who had fled 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 239 
 
 from many cotton plantations, and who had 
 burdened themselves with plunder stolen from 
 their masters houses. The train hands, who 
 were soldiers, roughly hustled the negroes from 
 the train and carelessly threw their baggage af 
 ter them. Trunks, boxes, costly articles of fur 
 niture, and rolls of blankets and clothing were 
 thrown down the embankment, rolling, slowly 
 at first, then faster and faster, to the bottom. 
 Many trunks and boxes leaped high in the air 
 and struck heavily on rocks when they de 
 scended. These burst open and their con 
 tents were scattered. Excited negroes chased 
 their boxes down the embankment, to be fright 
 ened and confused by other boxes bounding 
 past them. Black men howled ; black women 
 screamed ; black babies cried. After the de 
 struction of personal property had ceased, 
 these wretched, rain-soaked people gathered 
 their effects as best they could and straggled 
 off into the forest. There presently fires 
 glowed. 
 
 Next day I arrived at Huntsville. At head 
 quarters I was told that my battery was proba 
 bly serving with General Wilson s cavalry, and 
 that he and General Thomas were supposed to 
 be somewhere in Northern Mississippi. I se- 
 
240 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 cured orders and transportation, and promptly 
 started back to Nashville on an open box car. 
 The train stopped in a forest to take on wood, 
 which was piled at a side track. The conduc^ 
 tor told me that the train would stay on the 
 side track for three or four hours. I picked up 
 my blankets, jumped off the car, and walked in 
 to the sunny forest. The locomotive s whistle 
 sounded. The train rolled off. The enlisted 
 men jeered me. I was in no hurry, and rather 
 enjoyed the situation. The Alabama woods 
 were pleasant. I woujd wait for the next train. 
 Noon came. Late in the afternoon I resolved 
 to walk to the next station, where I knew 
 Union soldiers were on guard. While I was 
 at Huntsville I had learned that the region I 
 was in was infested with guerillas, at the head 
 of whom was a murderous ruffian, named Dick 
 Cotton. This man was described to be wholly 
 devilish. It was alleged that he murdered every 
 Union soldier that fell into his hands, and 
 that he invariably acted on the maxim that 
 dead men tell no tales. As I walked with 
 uneven steps on the ties, the stories I had 
 heard of Dick Cotton and his band of murder 
 ers filled my brain. To my right was a high, 
 precipitous mountain range. The whole region 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 241 
 
 seemed to be deserted. Darkness, gray and 
 gloomy, began to gather in the forest. I heard 
 a flock of wild turkeys calling one another. 
 Then I saw them walk briskly among the trees. 
 Seeing me they ran swiftly out of sight. The 
 sun sank behind the mountains. To my right 
 I saw a column of smoke rising out of a ravine. 
 I left the railroad track and walked through 
 the forest to the ravine. While walking, I 
 crossed a heavy bridle path which led up the 
 gulch, and presumably across the mountain. A 
 small, dilapidated log-house and a few out 
 buildings stood in a cleared field in the ravine. 
 There were neither dogs nor chickens around 
 this place. I walked slowly to the door of the 
 house and knocked. A surly, gray-haired, 
 savage-faced white man opened it. Under his 
 left armpit was a rude crutch. He looked at 
 me with fiery eyes as I stated my case, and 
 then gruffly bade me enter. A yellow negro 
 man, whom I saw was the son of the white man, 
 sat on the stool before the fire cooking supper. 
 The manner of my host changed. He smiled 
 and talked and endeavored to simulate good 
 comradeship. I instantly realized that I was in 
 danger. The yellow man could not conceal his 
 hostility. After supper I heard a horse stamp 
 
242 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 in one of the out-buildings. My host continued 
 to smile and talk of the times before the war, 
 and of his plantation in the valley below, where 
 he had worked twenty slaves in productive 
 cotton fields. He told how they had all run 
 away, excepting the boy (a broad-shouldered 
 man of thirty years) who still served him ; and 
 he prated about the wickedness of war, and of 
 his gladness that it was almost over, and the 
 useless shedding of fraternal blood near its end. 
 As he talked, his cruel black eyes gleamed with 
 hostility and belied his words. I turned to 
 speak to the slave, who sat smoking and blow 
 ing his tobacco-smoke up the chimney, and saw 
 that he was furtively watching his master, and 
 out of the tail of my eye I saw the white man 
 jerk his left thumb toward the door, motioning 
 to the slave to go outside. Soon the negro 
 arose and went out, after firewood he said. 
 Presently my host arose, excused himself, 
 placed his crutch under his arm, and said : " I 
 must go see what keeps that lazy nigger." He 
 stumped across the floor, opened the door, and 
 went out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind 
 him. I walked softly across the floor and 
 listened with keen ear at the crack. I heard 
 him whisper to the slave: "Charles, saddle 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 243 
 
 the mare, ride across the mountain and tell 
 Mr. Cotton that there is a Yankee 
 artillery officer here, and tell him to come get 
 him." That was precisely what I had been ex 
 pecting. I drew my heavy revolver, silently 
 cocked it, then threw the door wide open and 
 instantly covered the typical Southern planter 
 and his yellow son, and said : " Come in here, 
 you damned villains, or I will kill both of you." 
 They sullenly re-entered the house, and sat on 
 two chairs in a corner for the remainder of the 
 night, while I sat by the fire. The night was 
 long. Conversation lagged. I thought morn 
 ing would never come. When it did come my 
 host and his yellow son and I took a walk be 
 fore breakfast. They preceded me down the 
 railroad track for two miles. There I bade 
 them farewell and walked briskly to the next 
 station, where I found a detachment of an 
 Illinois regiment, which was commanded by a 
 young sergeant, who gave me a welcome and a 
 breakfast. I have told this incident simply 
 to illustrate the feeling of the small and igno 
 rant Southern planters, men who owned a few 
 slaves, and who knew that they would be ruined 
 by the suppression of the slaveholders rebel 
 lion. 
 
244 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVA TE. 
 
 Arrived at Nashville I was ordered to report 
 to the chief of artillery of the Army of the 
 Cumberland, at Eastport, Mississippi. I went 
 to Paduka, Kentucky, and took steamer up the 
 Tennessee River. This boat was loaded with 
 provisions and soldiers returning from furlough. 
 Going up the Tennessee River in a steamboat 
 was not as monotonous then as it is now. 
 Guerrillas and bushwhackers lurked in the 
 forests which bordered the river. The pilot 
 houses of all boats which plied the river were 
 protected with heavy boiler-plate iron to keep 
 out Confederate rifle-balls. Southern sympa 
 thizers amused themselves, and served their 
 cause, by endeavoring to kill the pilots of the 
 steamboats, so as to wreck them. Daily we 
 saw many men, clad in homespun, skulking in 
 the forest. They dodged from tree to tree. 
 They lay behind stumps and logs. They knew 
 the forest trails. They could not be captured. 
 Puffs of powder smoke would shoot forth from 
 behind trees or out of dense thickets, and fre 
 quently the balls would enter the pilot-house 
 through unprotected windows in front. The 
 pilots did not wince. They said that they re 
 ceived large pay, and that part of their duty 
 was to serve as targets for skulking sharp- 
 
IN THE SOUTHWEST. 24$ 
 
 shooters. When unwary soldiers exposed them 
 selves, they were promptly fired at, and occa 
 sionally shot. Then their comrades would rush 
 on deck and fire scores of shots at the place 
 where the bushwhacker was last seen. Present 
 ly there would be a puff of smoke from another 
 point. Then all the soldiers would shoot at 
 that point. Daily soldiers were killed and 
 wounded on the steamer. I do not believe 
 that a single bushwhacker was shot, and thou 
 sands of balls were shot at them. The farther 
 south we went, the more numerous were the 
 lurking sharp-shooters. 
 
 I found the Army of the Cumberland at 
 Eastport, and reported for duty. I was amazed 
 to learn that my battery, H of the Fourth 
 Artillery, had been sent East, to Camp Barry, 
 at Washington, a month before I left Elmira ! 
 While I was talking to the chief of artillery, 
 General Thomas entered the tent, and smiled 
 kindly at my rage. He ordered transportation 
 to be furnished to me from Eastport to Wash 
 ington, and that I be ordered there at once. 
 
 I had travelled on an order from Elmira, 
 New York, by car, by steamer, on horseback, 
 and on foot, for thousands of miles, through 
 many States, searching for a battery of artillery 
 
246 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 which was all the while at Washington, and 
 whose commander daily expected me to appear. 
 I never heard of the War Department officials 
 being mistaken as to the location of any other 
 command during the entire war. 
 
 I returned to Washington, and there saw the 
 great army of volunteers melt away. The men 
 with whom I had served had gone to work in 
 the fields, in the shops, in mills, and in factories. 
 I had no interest in the regular army, no de 
 sire to continue to loaf around barracks, and to 
 drill foreign-born soldiers. So I resigned my 
 commission and went home. 
 
 END 
 
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