CHAPTER XI.

HANCOCK AND HIS MEN.

General Hancock possessed to a remarkable degree the power of exciting to enthusiasm the men he so often led to victory. And even a drummer boy may be pardoned the pride he feels in the enduring fame of this intrepid commander.

During the ’64 campaign he was compelled to ride in an ambulance on the long marches because of the breaking out afresh of his old Gettysburg wound. But he did not ask a leave of absence, and when there was any fighting he mounted his horse and was at the head of his troops.

The personnel of his corps was probably the most unique of all the army. The most prominent organization and one deserving more than a passing notice was the famous “Irish brigade,” the representatives of that race which distinguished itself on the fields of Fontenoy.

This brigade never lost a flag, although it captured over twenty stands of colors from the enemy. The Irish brigade was probably the best known of any organization in the army.

It belonged to the first division of Gen. Hancock’s corps.

The brigade was in continuous service and lost over 4,000 men in killed and wounded, more men than it ever mustered at one time, for the regiments composing it were small.

The regiments which properly belonged to the brigade, together with their losses, were:

Sixty-third New York, with a loss of 156 killed; 69th New York, 259 killed; 88th New York, 151 killed; 28th Massachusetts, 250 killed; 116th Pennsylvania, 145 killed.

The old 69th New York lost more men in action than any other infantry regiment from the Empire State.

At the “Bloody Lane,” Antietam, eight color bearers of this regiment were successively shot down, and at Fredericksburg the color bearer was found dead with his flag wrapped around his body. Another instance illustrating the devotion of the brave Irish boys for the flag of their adopted country was at the “Bloody Lane,” where 16 men of the 63d New York were killed or wounded carrying the colors that day.

An incident of the brigade’s assault on Marye’s Heights was the distribution of little sprigs of green to the men as they stood in line waiting the order to forward. It is related that their gallant commander, Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, placed one in his cap. The assault failed, but not for lack of bravery and dash, as attested by the long, well-aligned row of dead within a few yards of the rebel breastworks; and by each ashen face was a sprig of Irish green.

There was another Irish brigade under Hancock composed of Pennsylvania troops, and commanded by Gen. Joshua Owen. They distinguished themselves at Gettysburg and were commonly known as “Paddy Owen’s regulars.”

Another brigade of the corps was known as “Corcoran’s legion.”

The second corps was prominent by reason of its long continuous service at the front. It inscribed upon its banners a greater number of engagements than any corps of the army. Likewise its casualty list was the largest.

It also had to its credit the capture of more men, guns and colors from the enemy than the rest of the Army of the Potomac combined.

Many years after the war General Hancock attended a national encampment of the G. A. R., and after the veterans had passed in review a distinguished U. S. Senator remarked to the general that he saw less of his old corps represented than other organizations and asked the reason why, to which Hancock replied, “The men of the 2d Corps, Senator, are mostly in heaven.”

THE GENERAL AND THE DRUMMER BOY.

A score or more of years after the war, when General Hancock was in command of the Department of the East, with headquarters at Governor’s Island, the writer happened in New York and the desire came over him to get a look at his old commander once more. He remembered that in the army there is a great disparity in the rank of a general in command and the boys who beat the drums, therefore he had no thought of a personal interview with the general. But when he was walking off the landing he saw a distinguished looking officer approaching, and recognizing him as the leader he had been proud to follow in other days, something of the old time enthusiasm of those days was rekindled, and as they met the ex-drummer boy saluted and made known his former connection with the general’s old command. No other introduction was necessary. The hearty greeting gave proof that Hancock had a warm place in his heart for the least of his “boys,” as he called them.

The general was planning a trip to Sandy Hook for that day to inspect some new ordnance and an invitation was extended to the ex-drummer boy to be one of the party. There were several distinguished officers in the company, but none received more attention from the general than his humble follower of the Sixties.

Later the writer exchanged two or three letters with the general and in one he referred to his former command as follows: “Your references to the old 2d Corps bring up many pleasant and sad remembrances. It has always been my regret that it was not in my power to reward every man who served with me as he deserved.”

THE SOLDIER’S FARE.

A lady said the other day, “Tell us in your next what the men had to eat out at the front, how they managed to do the cooking, washing of clothes,” etc.

Well now, the cooking did not bother us one bit, for we did not have anything to cook. When at Cold Harbor we had not had a vegetable for weeks, and beef only twice, and the flesh was so tainted with wild onions, on which the cattle had fed as they were driven through the country, that it could hardly be eaten. Coffee, hard tack, sugar, with a small allowance of salt pork two or three times during a month was what we had to live on.

Money would not purchase anything because the sutlers were all sent to the rear when Gen. Grant crossed the Rapidan.

Each man carried a little tin pail in which he boiled coffee, holding it over the fire with a stick. A quartet of boys who were making coffee one morning at Cold Harbor had their breakfast spoiled by a piece of a shell dropping into the fire.

LAUNDERING ON THE MARCH.

When we started out on the campaign our well filled knapsacks made us the laughing stock of the veterans of the 2d Corps, but gradually we had lightened our loads until we were down to a blanket, half a shelter tent, possibly a towel and a piece of soap, and some little keepsakes, all of which were twisted up in the blanket and slung over the shoulder. When we came to a stream the men would pull off their shirts, rinse them and if no halt was made would put them back on wet, or else hang them on their guns to dry on the march.

IN ANOTHER MAN’S BOOTS.

After a few weeks our shoes were nearly worn out, and in this connection I must turn aside to tell you how one of my comrades came into possession of a nice pair of boots.

It was the day following a big battle. Our regiment was being moved to the left and in doing so we passed several amputating tables where the surgeons had performed their operations on the wounded the night before. Trenches had been dug at the ends of the tables but were filled to overflowing with hands, arms and legs. The boy espied a nice pair of boots protruding from one pile and, pulling them out, found that some staff officer had amputation performed above the knees. The limbs were drawn from the boots and the boy remarked that they were about his fit; so he exchanged his old shoes for them. I think I should rather have gone barefooted from there to Appomattox than to have done likewise.