Part 14

That morning found us where we had been for two or three days, in front of Laurel Hill, and distant hardly more than a quarter of a mile from the works of the enemy. Between us and them were two swells of land, which afforded us some protection from the enemy’s missiles. The summit of one of these was occupied by our pickets, and the other by the pickets of the rebels.

About nine o’clock A. M. we received orders to attack the position of the enemy on Laurel Hill, and the brigade, commanded by Colonel Prescott, advanced with a rush across the intervening space.

As the line of battle started, it overran the picket line--dashed down the little depression in their front, over the next rise of ground, but at the foot of Laurel Hill the men, whose momentum had carried them thus far, faltered under the terrible fire, and laid down within a short distance of the enemy’s line of works. Here the ground did not cover the left of the Regiment, and while Colonel Stephenson was trying to draw his left under shelter, he saw that the regiment on his right had broken and was falling back in great disorder, and at once ordered the men to save themselves.

The advance had been disastrous, but as usual the retreat was far more so. In the 32d five bearers fell before the colors reached the old position behind our works; of the 190 men who advanced in the regimental line, 103 were killed or wounded, and from the time that they left the works until the remnant had returned, less than thirty minutes had elapsed. Among our wounded were Lieutenants Lauriat, Hudson, and Farnsworth, Adjutant Kingsbury, and Captains Bancroft and Hamilton; the latter of whom died two months later of his wounds.

From that day until the 23d, the Regiment was almost constantly in position in front of the enemy at Spottsylvania Court House and other localities, the service varied by repeated change of location all in the direction of the left, the building of new breastworks, picket duty, etc.

At the commencement of the war, the shovel was derided by a considerable portion of the people of the North, and even by the inexperienced and over-reckless men in the army, but the soldiers of the Army of the Potomac learned from experience the value and advantage of the utensil. After long and weary marches, the tired soldiers, if placed in positions confronting the enemy, would almost invariably, and often without orders, throw up earthworks before they wrapped themselves in their blankets for sleep.

On the morning of the 23d we resumed our march in the direction of the North Anna River, Crawford’s division of our corps, which was composed almost entirely of Pennsylvania troops, taking the advance.

Our destination was Jericho Ford on the North Anna. When within a mile or two of the ford, at a fork in the road, General Crawford by mistake took the wrong way, and had advanced some distance in that direction before his error was discovered. Without waiting for that division to countermarch, General Warren, our corps commander, directed General Griffin with his division to cross the ford. Our brigade took the advance and forded the stream, which was about four feet deep. Reforming at once upon a plain, the brigade advanced in line of battle into a piece of woods, preceded by the 22d Massachusetts as skirmishers, under the command of Major Burt, one of the most skilful officers in command of a skirmish line in the army. We had barely entered the woods when our skirmishers drew the fire from the enemy’s picket line, and the bullets came whistling over our heads quite freely.

The enemy soon fell back, and after gaining some ground we were directed to fell trees and erect another line of works. The men worked with great zeal, but had not finished when the enemy came upon us in full force, General Hill’s corps essaying to drive us from our position into the river. The attack fell upon our division, which received the impetuous charge with a steady fire, and the enemy retired. Yet, notwithstanding the merciless reception which was given them, the Confederates pushed forward again about 5 P. M., and finally the line of the 9th Massachusetts broke under the pressure, rendering our position critical. The enemy poured through the interval, thus endangering our whole line; but their headlong course was checked by a well-directed fire from a battery hastily placed in position, and served under the eye of General Warren.

Unable to sustain this raking fire of canister, the Confederates gave way, and our line was reformed and strengthened. During this time the 32d, which formed the left flank of our battle line, maintained a continuous fire, the men loading and discharging their rifles with great rapidity. It is impossible to tell how long this action was in progress, as in the excitement of battle one can make but little note of the passage of time, but after a sharp, quick struggle, which seemed to last but a few minutes, and yet probably consumed more than an hour’s time, the enemy withdrew, baffled in his attempt to force our position.

If such a thing could well be, this was the most enjoyable fight in which we participated during the pounding process we were obliged to undergo from the Wilderness to Petersburg. It was the only engagement in which we had the advantage of remaining under the cover of our works and receiving the attack of the enemy. In every other action during this campaign these conditions were reversed, and our comparatively trifling loss demonstrated the disadvantage under which we had habitually been placed.

This engagement proved that the enemy was on our front in force, that he had again divined his adversary’s plan of flanking his army, and that any further advance in this direction must be gained by hard fighting. We remained in our position during the night, receiving no further annoyance from the enemy. The next day we were moved to the right, and on the 25th again moved a short distance in the direction of Hanover Junction, where we threw up works and did picket duty until nightfall of the 26th, when we received orders to retire, which we did silently, leaving our pickets to face the enemy until the army had recrossed the North Anna. Our division crossed at Quarles’ Ford, and marched all night and the next day in the direction of the Pamunkey River.

After leaving the North Anna our next encounter with the enemy was in the vicinity of Mechanicsville. On the morning of the 30th our brigade advanced in line of battle through the Tolopotomy Swamp, driving the enemy’s skirmish line, which made but little resistance, until we came to open fields around Shady Grove Church, where we found him in force, protected by earthworks. This advance through the woods was very toilsome; briars, fallen trees, and similar obstructions impeding our progress, made it difficult to preserve the line of battle. Many of the men were badly shod; some had no covering for the feet, yet were compelled to march over briars and stumps which abounded.

The men had started on the campaign well provided with shoes--not new, perhaps, but in good condition--and twenty-five days’ constant service, in rain and sun, dust and mud, had left them in a pitiable condition. Yet there was no help for it, no supplies upon which to draw, for it was the 6th of June before we saw our baggage and supply trains. During this period of thirty days, neither men nor officers could obtain any change of clothing; the best that could be done was to catch a few hours, while at rest, for washing, wait for the sun to do the drying, and meantime go without.

During the afternoon there was considerable desultory firing, and our loss for the day amounted to twenty-one killed or wounded, among them Lieutenant George W. Bibby, killed.

About midnight we were relieved by a brigade of the 9th Corps, and went into camp. June 1st and 2d we were in the reserve, but on the 3d were aroused before daybreak to take part in the battle of Cold Harbor.

Our part consisted of a charge across an open field under a severe fire of grape and canister. We drove the enemy out of one line of earthworks and into another, where he made a stand. The real battle of Cold Harbor, probably, did not occupy more than twenty minutes. It was the same along the whole line as with us--a rapid charge under a galling fire from the enemy, who, protected by earthworks of great strength, easily repelled our attacks. Our brigade was, perhaps, as successful as any, for we did drive the enemy from his most advanced position, but he retired to one of greater strength. This attack was made before five o’clock in the morning. During the remainder of the day we laid quiet, within the redoubt we had captured, the enemy occupying his interior line not more than two hundred yards away. We kept up a constant fire, watching for every man who had the courage to show himself, thus hindering as far as was possible the working of the Confederate guns. The defences on our front were well constructed, and evidently laid out under the supervision of an experienced engineer. Indeed we learned from a prisoner that they were begun two weeks before we reached the place, by order of General Lee, who, it appears, foresaw that General Grant would necessarily be brought to this point if he continued “to fight it out on that line.”

Between the lines of works occupied by our brigade and the enemy, the ground was covered with pine-trees felled and slashed across each other, making the passage through exceedingly difficult for troops, even had they been unopposed. But, in addition, the enemy had posted a battery in such a position that he could sweep the field with the fire of his guns, from which there was no shelter.

In view of all this we were not much elated when we received an order that at six o’clock P. M. we were to attack the enemy in our front, without regard to the movements of the troops on either flank. Lieutenant-Colonel Stephenson, believing that, under the circumstances, the movement could not be successful, sent to General Griffin, the division commander, a description and sketch of the position of the enemy and the ground before us, whereupon the order was so changed that we were not to advance until the 9th Corps, which joined our right, should move. It can be imagined how anxiously we watched the movements of the 9th, but the hour came, and the artillery signal for the charge was unnoticed by the troops on our right, who did not budge, and we were glad indeed when darkness came on and we knew that we had, at least for the time, escaped the terrible ordeal we had expected. We know now that the order to charge was given to the commanders of every corps, but was disregarded by every one; feeling that, after the experiences of the morning, another charge would result in fearful loss of life, with no effect upon the enemy’s position. Our loss during the day was ten killed and twenty-one wounded. The loss to the Union army was over thirteen thousand killed and wounded; that of the Confederates, less than one thousand.

For a few days after the battle of Cold Harbor there seemed to be an intention on the part of General Grant to commence siege operations. We were then about twelve miles from Richmond, and on the same ground where, nearly two years before, was fought the action of Gaines’ Mill--the first of McClellan’s seven days’ battle in 1862. The prospect of another campaign in the swamps of the Chickahominy was not attractive, and no regrets were expressed when on the 12th of June, General Grant abandoned his attempt to attack Richmond directly, and headed his columns for the James River.

To cover this change of plan, the 5th Corps crossed the Chickahominy at Long Bridge, and threatened to force a passage through White Oak Swamp, but as soon as the rest of the army had crossed the James, we took up our march southward, and followed to a point a little below Wilcox Landing, where we were ferried over the river, and on the 16th the whole army was on the right bank preparing for a new campaign.

XVIII.

_THE BOMB PROOFS._

After the long marches of the spring campaign of 1864, through the Wilderness to Spottsylvania Court House, across the North Anna, through the Tolopotomy Swamp to Bethesda Church, thence _via_ the Chickahominy, White Oak Swamp, and Charles City Court House to the James River, the 32d Regiment crossed the James and marched to a point on the Norfolk Railroad, about three miles from Petersburg, where, on the 18th of June, they took part in the charge which drove the enemy into their last line of intrenchments. It was in this action that Colonel George L. Prescott fell, mortally wounded. While the engagement was not an entire success, it gave us the vantage ground of the crest of a hill, which we retained, and whereon we established our line of entrenchments; and this was the position from which the Burnside mine was afterwards made and exploded. After this line was established, our Brigade was ordered to the rear, into camp along the Jerusalem plank road, where we were held as reserves for special duty; and this was not, as might be supposed, light duty, for while there we were busy day and night, building a large earthwork fort, which was named Fort Prescott in honor of our colonel. Here Lieutenant-Colonel Stephenson, suffering from his wounds, resigned and left us, to return to civil life, and Major Edmunds was appointed Colonel, Captain Cunningham, Lieutenant-Colonel, and Captain Shepard, Major.

On the 12th of July, after being in reserve somewhat over three weeks, during which we had been called upon twice to reinforce the 2d and 6th Corps lines, we were ordered into the trenches, and began our life in the bomb proofs. Our first term of service there extended from July 12th to August 16th, a continuous period of five weeks, and must have been experienced to be fully realized.

In order to give the reader an idea of what a bomb proof is, we will describe the method of its construction. First, a hole is dug in the ground, which, of necessity, when in front of an active enemy, must be done under cover of darkness; this hole is perhaps four or five feet deep, providing the ground is not too wet; then the top is roofed over with logs of wood held up by cross timbers; then the earth which has been dug out is thrown over the logs, which makes the whole comparatively water-tight and proof against solid shot or shells, such as the enemy seemed to delight in tossing over into our lines in season and out of season, giving us frequent surprises and placing some of us _hors du combat_. There were, of course, openings to these subterranean caverns so that those who were to occupy them could crawl in and out. The openings were usually not much larger than was needed for a man comfortably to get in and out, and had an adjustable log to cover the major portion of the aperture, so arranged that it could be moved on and off at pleasure. This entrance was left on the side opposite the enemy, so that direct shots could not penetrate it, the only danger on that side being from shells exploded among the bomb proofs casting their fragments through the doorways into our underground domiciles. This would, after all, occasionally occur, sometimes arousing a sleeping soldier with a summons to another world. If one could choose the ground where he would locate such an underground mansion, he might make it a dry and comfortable abode, and one that would be comparatively healthy; but the ground assigned to the 32d was a clay soil, rather springy, where in many places two feet of excavation brought us to water, therefore a part of the domicile had to be above ground; and this was protected by inclined timbers, built like a lean-to, with a palisade front to make it proof against the ordinary shot and shell.

There were many exciting scenes and occurrences among the bomb proofs. Occasionally, in the middle of the night, a solid shot or a shell would come singing through the air and pounce down on one of the huts where half-a-dozen soldiers were dozing away, and the shock would startle them so that for a short time they would hardly know whether it was an earthquake or an attack by the enemy, but finding that the roof had not fallen in, and seeing no danger at hand, they would usually turn over and resume their slumbers.

Within these huts we were obliged to pass our time when off duty and, as would be naturally expected, they proved a fruitful source of sickness.

Many of our men, delirious with malarial fever, were sent from the bomb proofs to the hospital, where they were dosed, first with a medicine composed largely of spirits of turpentine, next with strong acids, and then with quinine and spirituous liquors. If there is anything that will take the conceit out of a man in a short space of time, it is this malarial fever when it gets a good hold. It is wonderfully tenacious in its grip when once it does get hold, leaving the strong man when it must, but never leaving the weak man while the breath of life remains in him.

On Saturday the 30th of July, the Burnside mine as it was called, was exploded, but the result was hardly what had been hoped and expected. There was indeed a great panic among the enemy, but the advance obtained for our lines was inconsiderable, and the fear of similar incidents was not confined to the rebel troops. Men thought and some spoke of possible counter-mines, and to the dangers of war which had become in some degree familiar, there was now added another and an unpleasant possibility--of an irresistible explosion from beneath; one which bayonets could not repel, and from which our bomb proofs could afford no protection. Confined to unhealthy caves when not exposed to more palpable dangers, deprived of opportunity for wholesome exercise and limited by the circumstances in the range of our diet, wearied by excitement and worn down by constant new alarms, it is no wonder that our numbers decreased nor that men were despondent.

Scarcely a day passed that some were not killed or wounded, and sickness was more effective than gunpowder in sending men to the rear or putting them out of the fight.

Our second tour of duty in the trenches was from the 1st to the 3d of September,--but it was in a drier place, and we suffered comparatively little.

Five weeks in the bomb proofs depleted the Regiment as much as any whole campaign in the field had done before, and it was with glad hearts that we received the order to give place to a relieving force.

Surgeon Faxon of the 32d was placed in command of the hospital of the 5th corps, near City Point, and when the army had settled down to the siege of Petersburg, Mrs. Faxon was ordered to the front, and a description of the hospital and of hospital life from her point of view will not be uninteresting.

XIX.

_OUR CORPS HOSPITAL._

It was a bright, warm, September afternoon in 1864, when the hospital transport, on which I was a passenger, loosed from the Seventh street landing in Washington and steamed away down the Potomac and out into Chesapeake Bay. So long as daylight lasted there were many objects of interest to occupy my eyes and thoughts, and when night closed in, finding that sleep would be an impossibility in the stifling heat of a state-room, I willingly resigned myself to the idea of passing the night on deck, for the sky was cloudless, and the full moon shone on the wide expanse of quiet waters.

The next afternoon we were steaming up the James River, under wooded banks, by neglected fields, past deserted plantations. Here and there might be seen some great homestead such as Carter’s, which had escaped destruction, standing patriarchally among its negro quarters and numerous outbuildings, but even these few were evidently deserted and desolate.

About sunset, having passed Harrison’s Landing, we seemed to be approaching some great mart of trade, so varied and bustling was the scene which presented itself to us. Beyond the masts and rigging, and the smoke stacks and steam of the water craft, were seen groups of tents, long ranges of whitewashed barracks, log-huts and shanties of every shape bearing the signs of sutlers and licensed traders. Among these were moving uniformed soldiers and officers, on foot and mounted, negroes driving mule teams, negroes leading mules or driving ambulances drawn by mules, sentries on duty and detachments relieving guard, and over all flags flying gaily. This was City Point, and such the busy bustling life of the place which was the base of supplies for the army.

Landing at a wooden pier, I and my luggage were loaded into an ambulance. Driving past General Grant’s attractive quarters, by what must have been pleasant homes, now occupied for army purposes, through what had been avenues of noble trees, which were now rows of stumps, two miles over a rough road brought me to the depot hospital of the 5th corps.

A broad drive-way led to the headquarters’ tents, in front of which a sentinel was on duty. Three hospital tents, each 15x17 feet, were arranged, opening into each other, and furnished as office, parlor, and bedroom. In front was an arbor-like enclosure made of green reversible blinds--probably borrowed from some “mansion”--which gave to one inside an agreeable seclusion. The furniture consisting of sofa, chairs, tables, mantel, hanging shelves, bureau, wardrobe, and washstand, was made of soft, unpainted, unvarnished pine of rude construction. Cushions were made of army blankets, and the bed, with its linen counterpane and sheets looked tempting. The tents were floored and in each was an open fire-place with broad hearth-stone, which I hope did not come from the cemetery near by.

Dinner, an elaborate meal of several courses, was speedily served in a neighboring tent, and bore witness to what might be accomplished by culinary skill, combined with a few pans and a stove, in a space four feet square. We were hardly seated when, at what proved to be its accustomed hour, a band commenced to discourse a programme of excellent music. Thus cheerfully my life on the Appomattox began.

The broad drive by which I had entered the camp was the street upon which were quartered all the officers, the assistant surgeons occupying tents on the same line with ours and on each side.

At right angles to this were streets formed by the tents of the patients, nurses, and servants. The central street, directly opposite the headquarters, was wider than the others, and in the middle of it was the dispensary. Three tents, 15x17 each, opening one into another, extended from street to street. In each tent were six beds, by each of which a little table held basin and towel. Along the front of the tents were plank walks, and above on a framework of posts and rails were spread branches of trees to furnish shelter from the sun. Across the farther end of the streets were the mess tents, seven in number, supplied with tables, etc., for the meals of the convalescents. Beyond them was the diet kitchen, five tents, and behind them the quarters of the cooks. On one border of the hospital camp were the tents for the nurses (soldiers) and for the Sanitary Commission, and at the opposite extremity, under a group of persimmon trees, were accommodations for the military guard of one hundred men. In one corner was the property room--a log-house in which, carefully arranged, labelled, and registered, were the effects of those who died, and on the outer limit were the negro quarters, stables, etc.