Chapter 6:
July 31 to October 19, 1863.
- Sulphur Springs as it was -- camp life -- the advance to Culpepper -- back to the Rappahannock -- Auburn -- our Maiden fight -- Centreville -- Fairfax Station -- ovation to Gen. Sickles -- shot for desertion.
Sulphur Springs—or Warrenton Sulphur Springs, as they are usually termed to distinguish them front the more famous White Sulphur Springs in West Virginia—the spot selected for the encampment of the Third Corps, is situated some six miles from Warrenton, on the north bank of the Rappahannock River. Before the war it had been a fashionable watering-place for wealthy planters and their families, who frequented it in large numbers from the States farther south. The buildings originally consisted of two large hotels, one on either side of the road, with a capacity of eight hundred guests. Both of these were in ruins, having been set on fire by shells thrown, we were told, by Union troops the summer previous, to dislodge sharpshooters. It seems that they were actually thrown by the Rebel army,—perhaps the 24th of August, when Sigel's detachment of Pope's army occupied the place, as he was heavily shelled by the enemy at that time, from the ridge of land across the river.
The spacious stable, too, that stood near by, was completely destroyed. The walls of the larger hotel and a part of its roof were in tolerably good condition. It was a four and one-half storied structure. [119] A slat bedstead, minus the slats, still remained in nearly every chamber, and a hundred bells hung voiceless in the office. Running back en echelon from either flank of the building were two rows of cottages for the accommodation of families. These were in a fair state of preservation, as was also the bath-house with its twenty tubs, and a central fountain, supplied with water from the springs by means of a hydraulic ram. A small upright engine of about five horse power, evidently used for pumping water and for carrying the shafting to what appeared to have been a small wheelwright's shop, was still standing. In rear of this hotel was a beautiful grove of large trees, which formed what must have been a most charming auxiliary to the other natural and artificial attractions of the spot. In the early history of the watering-place this was a deer park. We were informed by a most veracious gentleman who at one time lived there, that he himself has counted forty-two deer in this enclosure at a time, besides monkeys, numerous beautiful birds, and other imported objects of animated nature. This feature, however, had disappeared before the war broke out. From the rear of the hotel the ground fell away in an easy descent to the springs, a distance of perhaps twenty or twenty-five rods. Over one of these springs stood, with uncertain stability, a wooden canopy, while encircling it, at a distance of eight or ten feet, was erected a wooden bulwark three or four feet high, banked outside with earth to keep out all surface water. On the seat which surrounded this enclosure hundreds of well-to-do Southern planters and farmers had sat and sipped sulphur water, to many a healing beverage, but to our unschooled taste a very unpalatable one. Beyond the springs the ground rises again, and again [120] falls away to the Rappahannock. A few rods below stood the piers to a bridge then destroyed. The road crossing the river at this point leads to Culpepper Court House. It seemed a truly picturesque and favored spot, and we looked forward to our stay near it with pleasurable anticipations.
The grounds in the immediate vicinity of the hotels were appropriated for the headquarters of Maj. Gen. Birney, he having command of the First Division, to which we were then attached. Going on past the hotels up the road which leads to Fredericksburg, some four hundred yards, we turn into an apple orchard on our left, overrun with blackberry vines, and on this rise of land locate our camp. There was no fruit on the trees, but an abundance on the vines, and we almost literally rolled in berries for some time. Having cleared up the ground, pitched the officers' quarters and the tarpaulins, and put up a brush shelter over the horses, but little reiained for us to do, and a reaction set in. Scarcely a man in the Company felt strong and vigorous, although there were but few cases of serious and protracted illness. Lying and sitting on the ground to the extent we had done were not conducive to a healthful bodily condition, and the systems of many became so relaxed that the slightest exertion was most distasteful. On the 17th of August shelter tents were furnished us, and just one week afterwards we pitched them, each man selecting a chum (or ‘chicken,’ as the Marbleheadmen called them), to share his quarters. Six streets were laid out, one to a detachment, and the camp presented a neat and orderly appearance. The tents were supported in most cases on ridge-poles averaging five feet from the ground, which gave opportunity to build rough cots within. This change produced an improved [121] healthfulness throughout the Company. Then there were bowers of branches built over the tents and some of the streets, thus adding very materially to our bodily comfort; so that we have always looked back upon our camp life at Sulphur Springs as being, on the whole, rather delightful.
The eminence now occupied by us had at some period or periods in 1862 been the theatre of active operations, as numerous unexploded shells and fragments of shells that lay scattered about bore ample testimony. One of these was accidentally the cause of quite a commotion in camp for a few moments. It seemed that the brigade on our right had ‘policed’ their camp, and swept the rubbish, composed mostly of dry grass and twigs, into a hole, excavated for the purpose of getting at the red clayey loam for chimney-building. Amongst this rubbish was a loaded shell. Some time after, the mass was innocently fired, when the shell exploded, startling the whole camp, but injuring no one.
Several times in the previous year, during the movements prior and immediately subsequent to the Second Bull Run battle, the river below us had been crossed and recrossed by divisions of either army, and on some of these occasions, perhaps the one already alluded to, our present position, being occupied by one party, had been subjected to a heavy artillery fire from the other. The position was also a good one from which to deal blows, and some quarter, perhaps the high land across the river, may have received an equivalent number of iron compliments from it.
During our stay here we were ordered to adopt the badge of the Artillery Brigade, Third Corps. It was the lozenge worn by the corps, but subdivided into four smaller lozenges, two of which were blue, one [122] red, and one white, to be worn on the side of the cap. So little is known in relation to the origin of the corps badges, that the author has thought a paragraph on that subject would be of value introduced in this connection.
The idea of a corps badge originated, as far as can be ascertained, with Gen. Kearny. During the seven days battle on the Peninsula he saw the necessity of having some distinctive mark by which the officers and men of his division could be recognized. He therefore directed his officers to wear a red patch of diamond shape as a distinguishing mark, for the making of which he gave up his own red blanket. Not long afterwards the men, of their own accord, cut pieces out of their overcoat linings to make patches for themselves. At the same time Kearny adopted a plain red flag to denote his division headquarters, and Hooker adopted a blue one for his headquarters.1 At Harrison's Landing, July 4, 1862, Kearny issued a general order, directing officers to wear a red patch of the diamond or lozenge shape either on the crown or left side of their cap, while the men were to wear theirs in front. From this apparently insignificant beginning the idea of division and corps badges was developed by Maj. Gen. Butterfield when he was made Chief-of-Staff of the Army of the Potomac in 1863. Hooker then took up the matter, and, having done away with the Grand Divisions, divided the army into seven corps, and designated a badge to be worn by each. To the First Corps he gave the circle; Second Corps, trefoil; Third Corps, diamond; Fifth Corps, Maltese cross; Sixth Corps, Greek cross; Eleventh Corps, crescent; Twelfth Corps, star. Each corps was constituted of [123]
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| Zzz |
This scheme of badges, originated by Kearny and perfected by Hooker, continued, substantially unaltered, to the close of the war. The system of headquarters' flags, inaugurated by McClellan, was also much simplified and improved by Hooker. The accompanying plate shows the badges of the first four corps and the artillery brigade of the Third Corps.
Our camp duties at Sulphur Springs were by no means onerous, especially during August. Once established, there was very little drill or fatigue duty required of us. On the 6th a national Thanksgiving was proclaimed by President Lincoln, in recognition of the victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, and our gratitude took on a deeper tinge on account of the appearance of the paymaster with two months pay. On the 15th, the gentlemanly soldier, Capt. Geo. E. Randolph, Chief of Artillery of the Third Corps, and commander of Battery E, First Regiment Rhode Island Artillery, inspected the Company. His bearing on this occasion, and afterwards whenever we came in contact with him, made a favorable impression upon us that only strengthened with time, for he certainly seemed to us a thorough gentleman and soldier. While in the latter capacity he may not have excelled either his predecessor in command over us, or his successor, as a gentleman in the administration of his functions as Chief of Artillery he was unquestionably their superior, and we deplored the change which afterwards deprived us of his leadership. [126]
September 7th the corps was reviewed near Bealeton by Gen. Meade, and made a fine appearance. A corps review was a new experience to us, but one that became commonplace enough, later.
September 9th was the anniversary of our muster, and Capt. Sleeper gave us the day to celebrate as each should choose, consistently with the requirements of the service. Several received passes to visit friends in other regiments, but the greater part remained in camp.
On the 12th the paymaster again made us happy by the disbursement of an additional two months pay, and by paying balances to such as had not drawn the full amount of clothing annually allowed by government,—forty-two dollars' worth. Those who suffered deductions from their wages for overdraft of their clothing allowance, however, far exceeded the number having a balance.
On the 13th Maj. Gen. Birney reviewed the First Division, which was the last parade of this kind in which we participated at Sulphur Springs, for now heavy movements of cavalry betokened a speedy breaking — up of the peace and quietness that had reigned so long in both armies. On the 15th of September marching orders came,—suddenly, as such orders usually came. At half-past 2 in the afternoon the orderly delivered his charge, and at 5 o'clock we were on the move, leaving, according to instructions, our tents standing and four or five sick men in them. A part of these came on in the baggage wagons the next day. The others, after various refusals, succeeded in getting passage in some division ambulances, well filled without them. Two hours after they left, Rebel guerrillas were roaming through the camp.
The cavalry that we had seen crossing were part [127] of a large force destined on a reconnoissance under Gen. Pleasanton.2 Supported by Gen. Warren with the Second Corps, they met and pressed back Stuart's cavalry across the Rapidan.3 The infantry, however, were at no time engaged. This movement revealed the fact that Lee had depleted his army to reinforce Bragg in Tennessee, having sent away Longstreet's corps for that purpose, which decided Gen. Meade to assume the offensive at once, and was the cause of our sudden departure. We marched not more than three miles, probably less, before camping for the night in a field of tall weeds on the left of the road. We were astir at 4 o'clock, and in the advance of the corps, supported by the Third Division (?), made a march of at least twenty miles, camping about 8 o'clock P. M., on ‘Bloomingdale farm,’ which was owned, or had been, so said report, by Gen. A. P. Hill, of the Rebel army. It was a very warm day, and quite a large number of the infantry fell out of the ranks, a few dying from being overheated. We crossed the Rappahannock and Hazel rivers this day, the former at Freeman's Ford. At the latter crossing, the battery wagon, not following the course indicated for it, struck a rock and capsized in the river.
At 5 o'clock on the morning of the 17th we harnessed and hitched in, but did not move out of park until 2 P. M., and then to advance only a mile or so, [128] when we went into position amid a low, scattering growth of trees and bushes, with Clark's New Jersey Battery on our right, and the whole of the Third Division in the woods on our left. The roofs and spires of the town of Culpepper4 were visible something more than a mile away. It was Army Headquarters, and a visit to this old-fashioned but substantial and interesting town took one through an almost continuous sheet of canvas comprising the thousands of tents and army wagons environing it. Its appearance, aside from that occasioned by the presence of military intruders, wore such an atmosphere of antiquity, that we readily conjured up the shades of its lordly namesake and his associates with whom to people it, although it is probable that this section of country never came under their observation.
We remained on picket here a few days, with little to disturb us worthy of mention. A part of the time was occupied in the erection of board cabins for our better protection from the cold,—which by night was quite intense for the season and latitude, —and from rains that had been unusually copious. During this period, too, our three teamsters were ordered to turn in their horses, and received in return three complete teams of six mules each. To see these untrained drivers attempt to establish control over them was rare sport indeed. A mule is an animal which has the peculiar faculty of doing just the opposite of what is wanted of him. If he ought to move in a straight line he is certain to describe a circle, and vice versa; and to run wheels into pitfalls and against stumps seems his special delight. The [129] management of the mule is a very simple matter when he is once trained. With the six mules hitched to the pole of their own wagon when in camp, on duty, with their mischief-loving propensities, sundry entanglements ensue, and a confused pile of mule apparently involved inextricably is a common sight at such times; but the appearance of the driver with his ‘black-snake,’ or whip, changes the scene amazingly. Only one or two cracks of it are necessary for them to become disentangled, unaided, and stand, as it were, at a ‘present’ to their master. In the mule-driver's code the whip is the panacea for all the ills mule disposition is heir to. Yet there have been cases where the law of kindness has worked its gentle way even through his thick hide and skull. A team becomes manageable as soon as there is established a community of feeling and mutual understanding between the mules and their driver. By certain jerks of the single rein which he holds, that is attached to the bit of the near lead mule, and by outlandish sounds unintelligible to outsiders, he makes known his commands, and they obey with alacrity. Our drivers, after various ludicrous mishaps, attained a skill in the control of their teams equal to the best ‘professors’ in the wagon trains, and to the uninitiated whose eyes may see these pages, it remains to be said that a six-mule team in the hands of an experienced driver, with his single rein can be handled more promptly than a six-horse team by far, and, except under fire, is more reliable in other respects. They were of immense service to both armies in the Rebellion.
Early in October orders were received at Company headquarters to keep eight days rations on hand. The significance of this we did not at the time understand fully, but the fact was developed later that [130] Gen. Meade was on the point of pushing his offensive operations still further by making a flank movement on Lee's position across the Rapidan, as it seemed too strong to be carried by a direct assault, when he was suddenly brought to a halt in its execution by being ordered to send the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps (Howard's and Slocum's), under the command of Gen. Jos. Hooker, to reinforce the Army of the Cumberland. This put Gen. Meade, in turn, on the defensive; but, by the arrival of recruits and the return of troops sent to keep the peace in New York during the draft, towards the middle of October, he felt sufficiently strong to again assume the aggressive. On the 10th he sent Gen. Buford with his cavalry division across the Rapidan to uncover the upper fords preparatory to advancing Newton's First and Sedgwick's Sixth corps. Lee, meanwhile, having heard of the reduction of our army, was preparing for an offensive movement at the same time. He felt perfectly competent to cope with our force; and it is stated, on no less reliable authority than Gen. Longstreet, who may be presumed to know, that Lee proposed the audacious measure of a direct march on Washington with his entire army, being willing, if necessary, to leave Richmond exposed and exchange capitals. This, as might be expected, Jeff. Davis would not permit, and the Rebel commander was forced to content himself with an attempt to turn the right flank of our army, and by crippling it, as he hoped to do, keep it near Washington, so that more reinforcements might be sent to Bragg. Thus it happened, that, whereas Buford crossed the river on the 10th, Lee had anticipated him, having crossed to the north side on the preceding day, and by unfrequented and circuitous routes gained the right of our army before the movement was suspected. Of [131] these facts we, of course, knew nothing until later, so that when, about 11 o'clock in the forenoon of Saturday, October 10th, we received orders to ‘harness and hitch in as quickly as possible,’ it gave us something of a surprise, which was by no means lessened by our being immediately ordered into line of battle a few rods from camp. The beating of the Long Roll had already assembled the infantry. The report was that the enemy was flanking us, and an attack was imminent on any part of the line; but as no enemy appeared immediately, the infantry were permitted to return to camp, one company at a time, and pack their effects. We did the same by detachments, and lay there all that day and the decidedly cool night which succeeded it, shivering and dozing alternately around the fires, until morning of the next day, the Sabbath, when, at 8 o'clock, the column was put in motion rearward. The trains had all been sent on with the utmost dispatch, and now began the memorable race between the two armies. Our caissons were put in the lead, and our guns to the rear, where the danger was supposed to lie. The Hazel River was again crossed, this time by a pontoon, to facilitate the retreat and prevent the recurrence of such accidents as befell our battery wagon on the advance. The Rappahannock was reached after dark, and crossed by fording at Fox's Mill Ford,5 lucky artillerymen riding over, dry shod, on their carriages, whilst the infantry were obliged to wade, and their shouts and halloos at one another's mishaps in crossing were heard far into the night. We were among the first to cross, going immediately into park on a low flat of land next the river, where we passed the coolest night of the season [132] thus far.6 The frost could be scraped from our blankets by handfuls the next morning. At 6 o'clock we were again under way, but proceeded no more than three miles before making a halt near Bealeton on Bell Plain, our old review ground. Here we passed the rest of the day and succeeding night, up to about 3 A. M., of the 13th; then we were again turned out and on the move at 5, travelling at a moderate speed until we arrived at what is known as ‘Three Mile Station,’ on the Warrenton Branch Railroad. We there heard that the Rebels had driven our cavalry out of Warrenton that forenoon. From this cause, or on account of other information in possession of the corps commander, line of battle was at once formed and skirmishers thrown out. Meanwhile the Battery had been placed on a very commanding hill; but after waiting fully half an hour, with no demonstrations from the enemy, we moved down into the road again and resumed our advance. Shortly after this Capt. Sleeper was ordered to send a section of his Battery to the front. In obedience to this order, the right section moved [133] to the head of the column at a trot. The order of the troops in march was now as follows: first, a small body of cavalry as advance guard, followed at a few rods distance by Gen. French and staff; then came a small regiment of infantry; and after it our right section, followed by the First Brigade of the First Division, Col. Collis commanding; and this, in turn, succeeded in column by the rest of the Battery; then came the remainder of the First Division.
In this order the column had just crossed Turkey Run, and was marching along less than half a mile south of where the road, sloping gently down, debouches suddenly on Cedar Run and the little settlement of Auburn on its north bank. A continuous piece of woods stretched along on our right, but on the left was an opening, beyond which also extended another tract of woods. Scarcely had the right section reached the position in column assigned it, before Capt. Clark, assistant chief of artillery, came galloping back to say to Lieut. Granger, ‘Gen. French wants your guns immediately at the front.’ The caissons were at once halted, the order to ‘gallop’ given, and on dashed the pieces, soon meeting ‘Old Winkey’ (as the General was often called on account of the emphasis and frequency with which he shut his eyes) cantering to the rear, who immediately ordered them to ‘go into battery and load with canister.’ But ere this the Rebels, who were posted for the most part in the woods beyond the opening, were sending their whizzing compliments at the column in unpleasant profusion. The road here was not wide, and was somewhat sunken, and to get the two pieces from column ‘In Battery’ was a task which under less exciting circumstances might have been attended with some difficulty, and, possibly, confusion. It will be readily judged, then, that under [134] fire, and that, too, for the first time, the difficulties would be greatly enhanced. Nevertheless, the guns were unlimbered and put into position with commendable promptness and coolness,7 with barely room enough left between them for the cannoneers to execute their duties, and a double discharge of canister at once sent hurtling down the road. ‘Sock it to them, boys!’ said the General, who sat on his horse near by, winking with unusual vehemence, watching operations. But the ‘boys’ needed no second bidding, and vigorously plied the woods with their canister and case shot.
Meanwhile, where was the rest of the Battery? The first intimation they had of trouble ahead was the general skurry of staff officers to the rear, hurrying on the men and issuing orders to various comnanding officers. Our caissons were immediately halted, cannoneers, as many as were at hand and alert enough, mounted the pieces, the infantry opened ranks before us, and away we went at a lively gallop towards the scene of the fray, making a break through the rail fence, which skirted the road, into the open field. Tokens of conflict had ere this become manifest to the ear in the familiar boom of our own guns, already mentioned, and the hostile hiss of musket-balls about our heads, producing a new and decidedly unpleasant sensation. The centre section went into battery next the road, and the left section still farther to the left, thus bringing all six guns into line; but no sooner did these latter sections enter the field than the fire of the enemy was concentrated upon them, having them within shorter range and plain view, especially the left section, which was less screened by the scattering under- [135]
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| Col. Philip T. Woodfin |
Meanwhile Col. Collins's First Brigade filed rapidly in and took position on our left and left front, protected [138] in part by a rise of ground. After the action had lasted about twenty minutes the firing of the enemy ceased, as did that of the Battery. Then the infantry rose, and pouring in a volley, charged with a ringing cheer into the woods; but the Rebels had retreated before them, and the fight was ended. Our foe was said to be a body of Stuart's Cavalry, variously estimated at from five hundred to two thousand in number.8 Now came another new chapter in our experience. Wounded men hobbled to the rear or were carried thither, and a few, half an hour since in the full enjoyment of a vigorous manhood, lay pale in death. Our two wounded were taken to the ambulance train to be cared for. Private Hooper underwent the amputation of his arm. Sergt. Woodfin never rejoined the Company. He gradually recovered from his wound, and March 10, 1864, was promoted to a second and afterwards a first lieutenancy in the Sixteenth Massachusetts Battery.
For the commendable behavior of the Battery on this occasion, mention was made of it in the following General Order of the division commander:—
The course being once more clear, our march was resumed and continued with spirit a distance of fully six miles, which brought us, in the darkness, at 9 o'clock, to the little settlement of Greenwich, where we bivouacked for the night. Daylight of the ensuing morning gave us a better view of our surroundings. There was one large house located at some distance from the road, with quite extensive grounds about it. Around the estate the following notice was posted:
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| British property. Protected by order of Gen. Meade. |
The same notice was conspicuously posted on nearly every house in the settlement. Later, we learned that a Mr. Green, who owned the large house, making it his summer residence and living at Savannah in the winter, was a man of means and influence, and instead of this being a knot of British settlers, as at first appeared, the other people living here had persuaded the above gentleman to have the same safeguard thrown about their premises as his own.
As early as 6 o'clock A. M., we were again on the move, our line of march this day taking us across the plains of Manassas and a. portion of the old Bull Run battle-ground. Sounds of fighting to our right and rear had fallen upon our ears in the early morning, but we pursued our journey unmolested, being in the advance of the First Division and the Corps [140] as before. At noon the right section went into battery in one of the numerous earthworks around Manassas Junction, for the protection of the wagon train from guerrillas, subsequently making the best of its way to the head of the column again. By mid-afternoon the Third and Sixth corps jostled and crowded one another as both in hot haste pressed on to reach the desired goal—the heights of Centreville. We were passing over the trampled fields and old corduroys of the first Bull Run ground and about 4 o'clock the head of the column marched into and took possession of the earthworks on the rise of land between Bull Run and Centreville. The point was gained, and the Army of the Potomac was now in a position to covet rather than avoid an engagement. But no one understood our advantage better than Gen. Lee, who, having failed to intercept our communications, as he had fondly hoped, gave up the struggle with the close of day.
Before pursuing our own personal narrative further, it will be of general interest to connect our movements in this campaign with those of the army as a whole, both in respect to their causes and their relations to those of the enemy. It seems that Gen. Meade learned on the morning of the 12th that the Rebel army had halted at Culpepper, and thinking he might have been too hasty in his retreat, sent back the cavalry with the Second, Fifth, and Sixth corps to the vicinity of Brandy Station. This was the day we spent in waiting near Bealeton for the purpose, it would seem, of being within easy aiding distance in case Meade offered battle, which he contemplated doing at or near Culpepper. But the foe did not wait for any such demonstration, for that very day he had commenced another flanking movement, of which our commander became first apprised [141] through Gen. Gregg, who was watching the upper fords of the Rappahannock, when he was assailed by Lee's advance, and after a gallant resistance hurled back across the river, the latter then crossing with his army at Sulphur Springs and Waterloo, a ford a few miles higher up. Our corps at the time was but a short distance down the river, and had our isolated situation been known to the Confederate commander, he might easily have turned aside and demolished us before aid could have come from the other corps. But luckily this was not to be. The race between the two veteran armies was now pressed with the utmost vigor, Lee aiming to strike our line of retreat along the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, and Meade bending every energy to prevent him.9
Gen. Stuart hung closely about the skirts of our army, picking up stragglers, and it was while eagerly pressing on that he encountered the head of our corps at Auburn, with the result already given; [142] but at the close of the engagement it seems that he made off to our right instead of our left, as we then supposed, towards Catlett's Station, where he found himself that night in a critical situation. When in Poolsville, Md., in April, 1879, the writer fell in with a member of Stuart's famous troopers who spoke of a fight that occurred in this campaign, not far from Auburn, that he and his associates always called ‘The battle of the Bull Pen.’ His statement concerning it was in substance that Stuart unexpectedly found himself between two of our corps at dusk, and hastily concealed his men in a field hedged in by osage orange, and grown up to old field pines; that they muffled everything which could rattle, held their horses by the bridles, and took every precaution to remain undiscovered; that the conversation of the ‘Yanks’ as they marched along was plainly audible; that many of our men who stepped into the lot were seized, bound, and threatened with instant death if they attempted to give an alarm; that at daylight they pushed their guns up to the edge of the hushes and discharged them among our troops who were encamped near by; and that upon being charged they retreated as best they could, congratulating themselves upon their escape from their serious dilemma. All this and more was told with a very interesting setting of details. Never having heard the incident before, it came as new matter and was forgotten; but while looking up material for this campaign we found his story fully corroborated in all essential points, and that Stuart did, on that very night after his interview with the Third Corps, find himself thus involved.10 His first resolve was [143] to abandon his guns, and get out the best way he could, hoping to escape under cover of darkness with little loss; but this idea he relinquished, and hid his forces in a thicket of low pines that are wont to spring up from the exhausted soil of old fields. Feeling uncertain what the issue of his complicated situation might be, he fitted out three of his men with muskets and Union uniforms, with instructions to drop silently into our passing lines, march awhile, then slip out on the other side of the column and make haste to Gen. Lee at Warrenton for help.
At daybreak of the 14th, the crack of skirmishers' muskets gave token that the requested aid was at hand, whereupon the bold cavalry leader opened a cannonade upon our astonished forces from the opposite direction, and in the confusion immediately subsequent easily made his escape, Warren, very naturally, thinking himself to be attacked both in front and rear.
Then Lee pressed Hill and Ewell forward to anticipate our arrival at Bristow Station, but too late. When Hill approached it, our entire army, except the Second Corps, had gone by. The Third Corps brought up the rear of the troops that had passed. Hill now eagerly followed it, picking up stragglers, and was preparing to charge, when Gen. Warren appeared upon the scene with the Second Corps and somewhat disturbed his calculations. Hill turned at once to fight the foe in his rear. Warren, surprised at finding an enemy in his front, took some minutes to get his batteries at work, but ultimately succeeded in routing his opponent, taking six guns and about five hundred prisoners, with a loss in his corps not exceeding two hundred.
The roar of this engagement and of the desultory fighting that succeeded it came up from behind as [144] we closed in upon Centreville, and after our arrival there the sounds of strife were still to be heard, and the flashes of the artillery and puffs of smoke could be seen in the distance as day darkened into night; but the foreground to this picture presented a scene whose like we never saw before nor since. From far out over the plain long lines of army wagons were to be seen converging on Centreville, the drivers goading on their mules with the utmost desperation, as if in momentary expectation of being overtaken and ‘gobbled’ by the enemy. Coming in at the same time, their columns intermingled with the wagon trains, were dense masses of the infantry, with bayonets glistening in the sunset light. In short, the whole landscape in our front seemed to be wriggling with every kind of military appurtenance, hastening to the high ground we were occupying, where Gen. Meade had resolved to give battle.
In the evening our left section was sent back about two miles for duty at one of the fords across Bull Run. Here we found the Third Division of our corps drawn up in two lines of battle. The section remained all night without molestation except from a drenching rain, and in the morning rejoined the Battery, when our march was leisurely resumed, Lee having given up the pursuit. A further retrograde of seven miles took us to a point two miles beyond Fairfax Station, where we halted, and, supported by the First Division, went into position behind a low breastwork.11 Here, in a state of quiet, we remained until the 19th. Gen. Sickles arrived in camp the evening of the 15th, his first appearance in the army since Gettysburg. He had suffered the amputation [145] of one leg, and the ovation extended him by the veterans of his old corps must have been very flattering to his pride, as showing the esteem in which he was still held by his former command. One prolonged and tumultuous cheer greeted him along the lines wherever he appeared, and nothing but his disabled and weak condition restrained the ‘Diamonds’ from taking him out of his carriage and bearing him aloft on their shoulders through the camp.
Before our departure from this position we were called out to witness a spectacle, to us new, sternly sad and impressive,—the execution of a deserter. He had deserted more than once, and was also accused of giving information to the enemy, whereby a wagon train had been captured. He was executed in the presence of the whole division, which was drawn up around three sides of a rectangle in two double ranks, the outer facing inward and the inner facing outward. Between these the criminal was obliged to march, which he did with lowered head. The order of the solemn procession was as follows: 1st, the provost marshal, mounted; 2d, the band, playing Pleyel's Hymn; 3d, twelve armed men, who formed obliquely across the open end of the rectangle, when the procession had completed its round, to guard against any attempt to escape; 4th, the coffin, borne by four men; 5th, the prisoner and a chaplain, with a single guard on either side; 6th, a shooting detachment of twelve men, eleven having muskets loaded with ball, and the twelfth with blank cartridge, but each ignorant as to the possessor of the latter; 7th, an additional shooting force of six men to act in case the twelve failed in the execution of their duty.
After completing the round the prisoner sat on an end of his coffin, which was placed in the centre [146] of the open side of the rectangle, next his grave. The chaplain then made a prayer. After this was finished the latter addressed a few words to the condemned, inaudible to us, and followed them with another brief prayer. The provost marshal then advanced, bound the prisoner's eyes with a handkerchief, read the General Order for the execution, then gave the signal for the shooting party to fire, and a soul passed to eternity. Throwing his arms convulsively into the air, he fell back upon his coffin, but made no further movement, and a surgeon who stood near, upon examination, declared life to be extinct. Thus ended this sad scene. We have been particular in our description of it, not so much to refresh its doleful particulars in the memory of eyewitnesses, as to convey an adequate idea of all such occasions to their friends. How far men were deterred from desertion by witnessing such tragic scenes no one can tell. To no great extent, we think, for the chances of evading recapture were at least ninety-nine out of a hundred in favor of the deserter, and later in the war it is no exaggeration to say that nearly one-fourth of the men on the rolls of the Union armies were absent without leave. This fact indicates quite conclusively the utter disregard of consequences shown by these thousands, many of whom were, doubtless, urged on by enemies of the government at home, but who, nevertheless, seemed ready to assume the responsibilities their conduct involved. Little satisfaction is to be gained by claiming that this is a smaller per centum of disaffection than the Rebels could boast of for thousands of them were forced into service in a cause in which from the first they had little faith or interest, and, as a consequence, took the earliest opportunity to abandon it. The record of our own Company in [147] this matter, while not perfection, is one of which we feel proud, for the ‘Record of Massachusetts Volunteers’ shows but one organization12 of equal or greater tenure of service that has as small a percentage of deserters to the whole number of enlisted men. War is the stern remedy for wrong when all other remedies have failed. It knows no pity, no leniency; and he who enters upon it must accept its lard conditions even if he perish in its grip.
Morning reports
1863.
August 1. Privates Elworth, Ham, Innis, Clark, Ramsdell and Pierce (?) reported for duty.August 2. Capt. J. Henry Sleeper returned and took command of the Battery.
August 3. Two horses shot; disease glanders; by order of Capt. Sleeper. Five horses received from Qr. Master Artillery Brigade, Lt. Case.
August 4. Eight horses received from Lieut. Case, Artillery Brigade. Privates Pierce (?), Innis and Baxter reported to quarters.
August 5. Privates Peach, Newton, Innis reported for duty. Private S. J. Bradlee on detached service at Headquarters Artillery Brigade.
August 7. Privates Colbath, Peach and Pierce (?) reported to quarters. One black horse died, disease, worn out.
August 8. Received notice of the death of First Serg't Otis N. Harrington. He died of Chronic Diarrhea on his way to Mt. Pleasant Hospital, Washington, D. C. Serg't G. H. Putnam promoted First Sergeant, vice Harrington deceased. [148]
August 9. Private Butterfield reported to quarters. B. H. Phillips reported for duty.
August 10. Privates Northey, Chase, Pierce (?), Thayer and Peach reported for duty. Private N. H. Butterfield reported to quarters.
August 11. Private A. F. Southworth reported to quarters. G. L. Clark reported for light duty.
August 12. Privates Southworth, Colbath, Baxter and Ring reported for duty; Stowell reported to quarters. Three horses unserviceable.
August 13. Private C. Gould promoted Sergeant. Sergeant Woodfin reported to quarters.
August 14. Private Norman H. Butterfield reported for duty.
August 15. One horse died, glanders. Five horses unserviceable.
August 16. Private J. W. Thayer reported to quarters; N. H. Butterfield reported for duty.
August 17. One horse, bay, died, disease, glanders.
August 18. Serg't Philip T. Woodfin, Jr., reported to quarters. Private Chas. Chase reported for duty.
August 19. One horse died; disease, glanders.
August 20. Private George H. Parks sent to Washington, sick, by order of brigade surgeon, Aug. 19.
August 21. Privates Ring, Newton and Chase reported to quarters. Two horses died; disease nasal gleet and glanders.
August 22. Albert N. A. Maxwell reported to quarters. Four horses dropped from the rolls that were sent with Serg't Allard and Privates Abbott, Alden and Chase July 19, 1863.
August 24. Harmon Newton reported for duty. Two horses died; disease, glanders.
August 25. William Allen reported to quarters. [149] One horse died that was condemned; disease, glanders.
August 26. Three horses shot by order of Capt. Birney, A. A. A. General and Vet. Surgeon Third Army Corps.
August 28. Private Francis Loham returned from hospital at Boston.
August 29. Private William Allen reported for duty.
August 30. Private Hiram P. Ring reported for duty. Received 13 horses from Capt. Pierce, A. Q. M., U. S. A.
August 31. Private Charles N. Packard reported to quarters. The Battery was mustered in for two months (pay)? this day and inspected by Capt. Sleeper. Four horses unserviceable.
Sept. 1. Three horses shot; disease glanders; by order of Veterinary Surgeon Third Corps Headquarters.
Sept. 2. William H. Bickford, Charles N. Packard and Harrison Chase reported for duty.
Sept. 3. Private James L. W. Thayer reported for duty. One horse unserviceable.
Sept. 4. Private Isaac N. Burroughs and Glidden reported to quarters.
Sept. 5. Wm. A. Trefry reported to quarters. Sept. 8. Charles E. Osborn reported to quarters.
Sept. 9. Privates Asa L. Gowell and H. Winslow, Jr., reported to quarters. Serg't Woodfin reported for duty.
Sept. 10. Wm. A. Trefry reported for duty.
Sept. 11. Ellis A. Friend, D. W. Atkinson, reported to quarters. H. B. Winslow reported for duty.
Sept. 13. Wm. A. Trefry, Elias Ashcroft, Benj. G. Pedrick, H. B. Winslow reported for quarters.
Sept. 14. Private Wm. A. Trefry reported for duty. [150]
Sept. 15. Private Hiram P. Ring and Corp'l James S. Bailey, Jr., reported to quarters. Left Sulphur Springs for the field.
Sept. 16. Privates J. D. Smith, C. E. Osborn sent to Hospital, Washington, per order surgeon. Privates Gowell, Glidden and Corp'l James S. Bailey, Jr., left behind sick at Sulphur Springs.
Sept. 17. Privates Burroughs, Winslow, Atkinson, Pedrick, Friend, Ashcroft, Ring, reported for duty. Four horses shot, disease glanders; by order of Surgeon Benson, Third Army Corps Headquarters.
Sept. 18. Three horses unserviceable. Privates Gowell and Glidden and Corporal Bailey arrived in camp from Sulphur Springs.
Sept. 19. Corp'l Bailey, privates Gowell, Burroughs, Friend, Ashcroft and Corp'l Smith reported to quarters.
Sept. 20. Private Geo. H. Day reported to quarters.
Sept. 21. Private Arthur A. Blandin reported to quarters.
Sept. 22. Privates Maxwell and Chase (?) re ported for light duty. Leroy E. Hunt reported to quarters. Ellis A. Friend reported for duty. Six horses shot; by order Surgeon Benson 3rd Army Corps headquarters. Received from Capt. Pierce, Q. M. 18 mules with harnesses complete.
Sept. 23. Private John Millett reported to quarters, Chase (?) ditto.
Sept. 24. Elias Ashcroft reported for duty.
Sept. 25. Richard Horrigan reported to quarters.
Sept. 26. Isaac N. Burroughs and Arthur A. Blandin reported for duty.
Sept. 27. Joshua T. Reed reported to quarters. [151]
Sept. 28. Leroy B. Hunt reported for duty. Corp'l Chas. W. Doe, Private E. Ashcroft, John T. Goodwin, reported to quarters.
Sept. 29. Private Millett, Bugler Reed and Corp'l Doe reported for duty.
Sept. 30. John T. Goodwin reported to quarters.
Oct. 1. Private Waldo Pierce, John T. Goodwin reported for duty.
Oct. 3. Privates Chas. L. Chase, Geo. H. Day, Elias Ashcroft, reported for duty.
Oct. 4. Five picked — up horses turned over to the Battery by J. Henry Sleeper.
Oct. 6. Private John C. Frost received notice of his discharge at Mt. Pleasant Hospital Sept. 25, 1863.
Oct. 7. Corp'l Geo. A. Smith reported for duty. W. H. Trefry reported to quarters.
Oct. 8. Frank A. Chase returned from Camp of Parole and reported for duty. W. H. Trefry reported for duty. N. H. Butterfield and F. A. Chase reported to quarters.
Oct. 9. Privates Franklin Ward, S. Augustus Alden, Geo. W. Parks, Benj. E. Corlew and Corp'l Andrew B. Shattuck have been dropped from the rolls, having been absent some time and their return extremely doubtful. Private Richard Horrigan sent to general hospital Washington, D. C. Private N. H. Butterfield reported for duty.
Oct. 10. Corp'l James S. Bailey, Jr., and A. L. Gowell reported for duty. N. H. Butterfield reported to quarters.
Oct. 11. Battery left Culpepper, Va., for the field.
Oct. 13. Serg. Philip T. Woodfin, Jr., and Private Joseph Hooper dangerously wounded in action near Auburn, Va.
Oct. 14. Serg. Woodfin and Private Hooper sent to hospital at Washington, D. C. [152]
Oct. 15. Battery arrived at Fairfax Junction.
Oct. 16. One horse, large sorrel shot, by order Dr. Benson, Headquarters Third Army Corps, glanders.
Oct. 18. Privates W. H. Starkweather, Apthorp, Rawson and Warburton reported to quarters.
