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SERVICE WITH THE THIRD WISCONSIN
INFANTRY

Wisconsin History Commission: Original Papers, No. 7

A NARRATIVE OF SERVICE
WITH THE THIRD WISCONSIN INFANTRY

BY JULIAN WISNER HINKLEY

Opinions or errors of fact on the part of the respective authors of the Commission's publications (whether Reprints or Original Narratives) have not been modified or corrected by the Commission. For all statements, of whatever character, the Author alone is responsible

Contents

Illustration

Wisconsin History Commission

(Organized under the provisions of Chapter 298,
Laws of 1905, as amended by Chapter 378,
Laws of 1907, Chapter 445, Laws of 1909,
and Chapter 628, Laws of 1911)

FRANCIS E. McGOVERN
Governor of Wisconsin

CHARLES E. ESTABROOK
Representing Department of Wisconsin, Grand
Army of the Republic

REUBEN G. THWAITES
Superintendent of the State Historical Society of
Wisconsin

CARL RUSSELL FISH
Professor of American History in the University of
Wisconsin

MATTHEW S. DUDGEON
Secretary of the Wisconsin Library Commission

Chairman, Commissioner Estabrook
Secretary and Editor, Commissioner Thwaites
Committee on Publications, Commissioners Thwaites
and Fish

EDITOR'S PREFACE

The author of this volume was born at Vernon, Connecticut, on March 12, 1838, of a long line of New England ancestry; he was sixth in order of descent from Governor Thomas Hinkley of Plymouth Colony. Coming to Wisconsin in his eleventh year, Julian grew to young manhood on his father's farm at Waupun and in Portage County. In 1858, our author left the farm and started life for himself—teaching school in winter, and working as a carpenter each summer.

On April 19, 1861, Mr. Hinkley enlisted in the Waupun Light Guard for three months. But the services of the organization were not accepted for that short term by the State military authorities, so on May 8 they were proffered and accepted for the war, and the organization became Company E of the Third Wisconsin Infantry. Hinkley was at the organization appointed First-Sergeant; but on February 6, 1862, he was commissioned Second-Lieutenant of his company, became First-Lieutenant on November 1 following, and on May 4, 1863, took command of the Company as Captain. He continued to serve the Third Wisconsin until its final discharge and payment in Madison on August 26, 1865, but during the last few months of this period was the acting Major of the Regiment. Since the war, Major Hinkley has been largely engaged in erecting public buildings, and has a wide acquaintance throughout Northeast Wisconsin.

The Commission is much pleased at this opportunity to publish Major Hinkley's Narrative. The book has only in part been written from memory. It has been made up from several excellent sources: (1) A manuscript diary kept from day to day, or week to week, by Mr. Hinkley during the years of his service; (2) several contemporary letters written by him, either to the local press of his section of the State, or to relatives and friends at home; and lastly (3), a manuscript narrative written by the author several years after the war, for the edification of his children. The work of amalgamating these diverse materials has fallen to the lot of the editorial department of the Commission; the result, however, has been passed upon in detail by Major Hinkley, and in its present continuous form accepted by him as his final narrative. This method of compilation has secured a manuscript possessing a contemporaneous flavor and accuracy, not usual with reminiscences. The Commissioners feel that the book is an interesting and valuable contribution to the literature of the war, being the view-point of a company commander in one of the most active of Wisconsin regiments, throughout the entire period of the struggle.

Wisconsin Historical Library

     September, 1912

SERVICE WITH THE THIRD WISCONSIN
INFANTRY

Enlistment and Training

The presidential election of 1860 found me just become of age. I exercised my newly-acquired rights of citizenship, in the then little village of Waupun, Wisconsin, by participating in the hurrahing and torchlight processions that in those days characterized a political campaign. I was a carpenter by trade, but immediately after the election went to teach a country school in the backwoods town of Buena Vista, in Portage County. Daily papers in that sparsely settled community were of course an unknown luxury, and it was only through the weeklies that we heard of the gathering storm in the Nation. From them we learned how State after State in the South were holding conventions, that they were passing ordinances of secession, and that the delegates were gathering at Montgomery, Alabama, to organize the Confederate States of America.

In the North, few people seemed as yet to realize that a great war was impending. The Southern newspapers boastfully asserted that secession might be accomplished in peace, for the Northerners were a nation of shopkeepers and mechanics, who would never fight to prevent it. And these statements, reprinted in the Northern papers, were far from soothing, for there is nothing that so quickly arouses the combativeness of men, and especially of young men, as the intimation that they are cowards. Thus were the younger and more hot-headed men on both sides being stirred to warlike feeling by newspaper writers, until such hostile sentiment was aroused that war was inevitable.

Immediately after the secession of South Carolina, I had expressed my intention, in conversation with my friends, that should war follow, I would have a hand in it. This determination grew as events drifted on from bad to worse. I cannot say that I was very strongly animated by a love for the Union in the abstract, or that I considered the abolition of slavery worth fighting for; but I felt that the dismemberment of the Union by armed force, submitted to without a struggle, would be a disgrace to the whole North.

The events of the following winter and spring are a part of the history of the Nation. Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated on March 4, 1861. On April 12, Fort Sumter was fired upon, and surrendered on the 14th. On April 15 Lincoln issued his call for troops, and the war had burst upon the Nation in all its fury.

Waupun for a number of years maintained an independent military company, called the Waupun Light Guard. This organization had in its possession forty stand of arms belonging to the State, and uniforms for about twenty of its members. On the morning of April 19, I had gone down to the main street of the village to buy a paper. While discussing with Captain Clark of the military company, the events of the day, an agent of the State, who had just arrived on the morning train, approached us. He read to the Captain a notice that his company must at once be filled up to the regulation standard and reported for active duty, or surrender its arms, to be used by other companies going into service.

I had not heretofore belonged to this company, but at once told the Captain that I would enlist, and aid him to fill his command to the required standard. A meeting was called for that night, and with the assistance of the patriotic people of the village and surrounding country, the company was filled up by nine o'clock of the next morning. A telegram was immediately sent to Madison, tendering service for the ninety-day call. We had acted promptly and swiftly, yet not quite swiftly enough. Twenty-three other companies had filed notice before us, and the quota of Wisconsin was full.

Enthusiasm among the men ran high, however, and when on May 8 it was learned that no more ninety-day men could be accepted, it was determined by vote to tender service for the entire war, however long that might be. Those whose business was such that they could not leave home for longer than ninety days retired, but their places were quickly taken by others who were anxious to go. We were now accepted, and assigned to the Third Wisconsin Volunteers and ordered to rendevouz at Fond du Lac as soon as camp equipage could be furnished.

The former officers of the company were retained, with the consent of the newly-enlisted men, and additional non-commissioned officers were elected. Among the latter I was chosen First Sergeant, which position I held until promoted to a Second-Lieutenancy.

We boarded at the best hotels in the village, until ordered into camp. We were drilled several hours each day, and prepared for the work in store for us by the study of tactics and army regulations. At length, after what seemed to us in our impatience an interminable delay, we went into camp at Fond du Lac on June 15, and for the first time lived in tents. We now had daily company and battalion drill, together with officers' school in tactics and sword exercise. Colonel Thomas H. Ruger, our commander, was a West Point graduate, and under his efficient direction we became, before we had been very long in the service, as thoroughly drilled and disciplined as any regiment of regulars. Indeed we all felt sure, while we were still at Fond du Lac, that we were already veterans.

On June 28 appeared Captain McIntyre of the regular army to inspect us and muster us into the service of the United States. And here occurred a difficulty which illustrates how confidently the people of the North expected that the war would be of only short duration. Many of the best men in the company, who had been entirely willing to enlist "for the war," objected to being mustered in for a three-years' term of service as required by the instructions of the Federal Government. It was only after considerable persuasion that they were all finally induced to do so. Probably not one of them had the slightest idea that he would serve for three years, and then enlist again for another three years, before the great struggle would be ended.

On the day after mustering in, uniforms were issued to us, consisting of light-grey trousers, mixed-grey blouse, and light-coloured hat. At first, they looked bright and fine, but they were of such poor quality, especially the trousers, that within ten days it was necessary to furnish the entire regiment with common blue workingmen's overalls, in order that we might with decency be seen upon the streets. Some money-loving patriot contractor had gathered in his reward from the State of Wisconsin by providing us with shoddy clothes; and in the end it came out of the pay of the Regiment.

Departure for the Front

The preparations for departure were soon completed, and on July 12, 1861, we shouldered our knapsacks, strapped on our haversacks, containing several days' rations, and boarded the railroad cars for the seat of war in Virginia. The train of twenty-four coaches pulled out of the station amid the cheers and farewells of our many friends, who had gathered to see us off. All were in the best of spirits. It seemed to us as though we were setting out on a grand pleasure excursion. No thought of death or disaster appeared to cross the mind of anyone. And yet how many were saying farewell, never to return!

Our route took us through Chicago, Toledo, Cleveland, and Erie. Everywhere we were feasted and toasted by the enthusiastic people along the line. At Buffalo the entire population seemed to have turned out to welcome the wild woodsmen of the Northwest. The local military companies of that city escorted us through the principal streets; speeches were made by the mayor and prominent citizens. We were very soon convinced that we were, indeed, heroes in embryo. At Williamsport, Pennsylvania, we were given a reception surpassing anything that had gone before; even now, more than fifty years after, its pleasant recollections still linger in my mind. Tables were set along the sidewalk in the shade of magnificent trees, and these tables were literally loaded with all the good things that could tempt an epicure. There were, besides, fair ladies without number to welcome us, and wait upon our needs.

On July 16 we reached Hagerstown, Maryland, where we went into camp, and where on the next day we were equipped with a complete outfit of muskets, ammunition, and camp utensils. The degree of preparation of the Federal Government for war at this time, may be judged from the fact that the muskets issued to us were old-time smooth-bore Springfields, that had been rifled for a minie-ball; they were so light, that their barrels would spring after the rapid firing of a dozen shots.

Service in Maryland

On the morning of July 17 we broke camp and started for Harpers Ferry, thirty miles distant. Now for the first time I began to realize what it was to be a soldier. I carried a knapsack laden with the various things that kind friends at home had thought necessary for a soldier's comfort, a haversack containing two days' rations, a musket with accoutrements, and forty rounds of ammunition, altogether weighing not less than fifty pounds. The weather was extremely hot and the roads very muddy, so that by the time we had gone fifteen miles I was entirely ready to go into camp.

Our camp was pitched on the side of a hill. Our mess, in order to find as level a sleeping place as possible, pitched the tent in a low place, and in our ignorance of camp life we neglected to dig a ditch around it. A sudden shower came up soon after we had gone to sleep, and in a short time we found ourselves lying in a pool of water. And as if this were not misfortune enough, our tent pins, loosened by the soaking of the ground, suddenly pulled out, and down came our canvas shelter. Subsequent experience enabled me to sleep in wet blankets, or in no blankets at all, just as well as in the best bed; but at this time it was impossible. So gathering a rubber blanket around my shoulders, I found a large stone, and remained upon it for the rest of the night. In the morning we continued the march toward Harpers Ferry. Our camp for the next night was pitched on a bit of comparatively level ground on the east side of Maryland Heights, overlooking the little village of Sandy Hook, and about a mile distant from Harpers Ferry. A more thoroughly used-up lot of men than ours that night, it would be hard to find.

My first military duty was to guard the ford at Harpers Ferry and the bridges across the canal. The region was historic ground, and I took this opportunity to visit the old arsenal, then in ruins, and the old engine-house where John Brown had battled so bravely for his life. I made it a point also to visit Jefferson's Rock, the view from which Jefferson, in his Notes on Virginia, says is worth a voyage across the Atlantic to see.

On September 15, while encamped in the vicinity of Darnestown, we were ordered, late in the day, to break camp and take the road toward the west. Our destination was not disclosed to us, and there was a great deal of speculation among the men as to the object of this secret and hurried march. The next day we found out from citizens along the road that we were on the way to Frederick City, the capital of Maryland. We arrived there late on the afternoon of the 16th, and received an enthusiastic welcome from the citizens of that loyal town. Early the next morning, guards were stationed on all roads leading out of town, and detachments of men, accompanied by detectives, proceeded to arrest the members of the Maryland Legislature, who had assembled there for the purpose of passing an ordinance of secession. It was thus that Maryland was saved to the Union by the promptness of General McClellan. Her secessionist legislators found themselves, shortly after, assembled at Fort McHenry, with leisure to meditate upon their schemes.

The Regiment remained in camp at Frederick City until late in October. The usual monotony of camp life, with its drills, dress parades, and guard mountings, was broken only by the arrival of the paymaster with crisp new greenbacks of the first issue, and by the appearance of new blue uniforms in exchange for our tattered array. To the old grey we bade adieu without a sigh of regret, and proudly donned the blue of United States soldiers.

One interesting incident occurred during our stay here, which gave us a subject for discussion for several days. News had been brought to us of a large quantity of wheat, stored in a mill in Harpers Ferry, which was about to be ground into flour for the use of the Confederate army. An expedition to capture it was soon organized under command of Colonel John W. Geary of the Twenty-Eighth Pennsylvania. It was composed of a detachment of two hundred men from our regiment under command of Captain Bertram, with similar detachments from the Twelfth Massachusetts and Twenty-Eighth Pennsylvania, besides a section of artillery. The expedition was successful; the wheat was safely removed to the north side of the river, and the command was ready to return, when a large force of the enemy appeared, seemingly disposed for a fight. Our men were quite willing to accommodate them, and moved up the hill toward Bolivar Heights, where the enemy was already strongly posted with artillery. Skirmishing immediately commenced. But this soon proved too slow for our impatient men; they charged the Confederate position, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the last of the Southerners disappear in the direction of Charlestown, leaving their artillery in our hands.

In this engagement the heaviest fighting fell to the detachment of the Third Wisconsin; the piece of artillery was brought off by them as a trophy. This command also sustained all of the loss, having had six men killed and four wounded. The dead were brought back and buried with military honors in the cemetery at Frederick City. The fight had in a large measure been unnecessary, for the entire object of the expedition had been accomplished before the enemy appeared in force; yet the moral effect on the men was good, since it increased their self-confidence.

On November 1 we rejoined the Division of General Banks, near Darnestown, where we remained until the beginning of the next month. The whole Division then moved to the vicinity of Frederick City, our Regiment being detailed in the city as provost guard. We built our barracks in the old barrack yard, and settled down for the winter to the regular routine of guard duty. Two companies were detailed each day—one for the guard-house, the other to patrol the city and preserve order. The snow, rain, and mud kept the ground in such condition that drilling was impossible; thus we had little to do but kill time with chess, checkers, cards, and dominoes. The winter wore slowly away in this uneventful manner. In January news was received of the victory of General Thomas at Somerset, Kentucky; also the capture of Roanoke Island, by General Burnside, and immediately after this, in February, the great victories of General Grant at Forts Henry and Donelson. The enthusiasm of the command over these successes knew no bounds, and our impatience to be on the move could scarcely be restrained.

On the trail of Stonewall Jackson

At length the long-wished-for came. On the morning of February 25, 1862, we bade adieu to the barracks that had sheltered us so long, and boarding the cars moved to Sandy Hook, where we went into camp on the ground that we had left six months before. During the night there arrived a train of cars with a pontoon bridge, in charge of a detachment of United States engineers; and General McClellan came from Washington by special train, personally to supervise the movement. Our Regiment being largely composed of lumbermen and raftsmen from northern Wisconsin, who were accustomed to running rafts on the rivers of our State, readily made up a detail of a hundred experienced fellows to assist the engineers in laying the bridge. By noon it was constructed, 1300 feet long, in a swift current and our Regiment, the advance of the army, was on its way into Dixie.

We moved rapidly on to Bolivar Heights without seeing anything of the enemy, and halted there for the night, happy in the thought that at last we were doing something. On February 28 a strong reconnoitering party of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, moved forward, and without opposition occupied Charlestown. It was a village of national reputation at that time, for there John Brown was tried and hung. It was one of the hottest secessionist spots in the State, any Union sentiment that might have existed, being carefully concealed. We remained there for several days quartered in the various churches and public buildings, while I improved the opportunity to visit the many points of interest. On March 2 came my commission as Second Lieutenant of Company D.

On March 11 we once more moved forward in the direction of Winchester, the advance guard skirmishing with the enemy occasionally, but meeting no serious resistance. The next morning we turned out at four o'clock, and advancing through fields and woods for about an hour, came at length in sight of the entrenchments of Winchester, about a mile to the front. Our right and left companies were thrown forward as skirmishers, in preparation for a fight, but met with no resistance, and were soon clambering over the parapet of the deserted fort. They pushed on into the town, the remainder of the Regiment following closely after, and received from the mayor the formal surrender of the municipality. It was the first surrender of this interesting city, which is said to have been captured and recaptured more than thirty times during the war. We found here an apparently strong Union sentiment. As our Regiment marched in with colors flying and band playing, the citizens were rejoicing everywhere over their deliverance from the Confederates. Innumerable handkerchiefs were waving to welcome us, and in some instances the stars and stripes were displayed. We learned from citizens that General Stonewall Jackson had with 6,000 men, retreated the night before toward Strasburgh, taking with him quite a number of the Union citizens of the town.

We now went into camp a short distance south of Winchester, where we remained until March 22. Continually we were hearing of the glorious successes of the Western Army, and becoming more and more anxious that our Army of the Potomac should be given an opportunity to rival its achievements. A number of changes in the organization of the Division were made while we were here in camp. The only one of importance to us was the transfer of the Second Massachusetts to our Brigade in place of the Ninth New York, giving us Colonel Gordon of the Second Massachusetts as brigade commander in place of General Hamilton, our old leader. This circumstance was little liked at the time; but it was the beginning of our friendship with the Second Massachusetts, that remained very close throughout the war.

On March 22 our Division left Winchester to proceed, as we believed, to Manassas Junction. At the end of a two days' march we were camping for the night about three miles east of Snicker's Gap, in the Blue Ridge. Rumors here began to circulate, that there had in our absence been considerable fighting at Winchester. It was reported that the Confederates had been defeated, but that General Shields had been wounded in the battle. We were not, therefore, surprised, the next morning, to be ordered to march back over the identical road upon which we had come. We reached Winchester the same night after a hard march of twenty-five miles, and learned from its citizens that there certainly had been a fight. We were informed that General Jackson had learned of our departure from Winchester, but had not heard that Shields was still encamped north of the city. Jackson had made a hasty move to recapture Winchester, but had been confronted by Shields near Kernstown. Here the Confederates had been completely routed and driven beyond Strasburgh, with heavy loss in killed and prisoners.

On the morning after our arrival at Winchester, I went out to take a view of the battle-field, and was able to gain some idea of what the future held in store for us. The wounded had already been cared for, and some of the dead had been buried; but sixteen of our dead remained on the field, and something over three hundred of the enemy's. In one part of the battle-ground, covered with small timber and underbrush, where the enemy had for a time made a stubborn resistance, scarcely a bush or a tree but showed the marks of bullets at a height of from three to six feet from the ground. In my inexperience, I then wondered how any man could have lived in that thicket; and in truth, not many did live there long, for the ground was strewn with the dead.

Returning to camp at noon, I found that we were again under orders to march. We started out near sundown, moving that night to Strasburgh, and found the bridge over Cedar Creek, two miles this side of Strasburgh, destroyed. It had been burned by Jackson at the time of his first retreat from Winchester. This precaution had in the recent fight proved to be his undoing, for in his hasty flight before Shield's Division, his army, which up to that place had preserved good order, was completely disorganized and suffered a loss of two hundred prisoners.

We remained at Strasburgh for several days. During that time I was detailed on a general court martial to try some soldiers who had been arrested for depredations on private property. Their offence, as I was informed, consisted in stealing chickens and honey, against which stringent orders were at that time in force. The court convened in all dignity, and sent word to the General that it was ready to try the culprits. In a few minutes Adjutant Wilkins appeared, presented the compliments of the General and informed us that the prisoners had escaped. We were requested to adjourn until they had been recaptured. As that court was never reconvened, it may be taken for granted that the prisoners were never recaptured.

On the first day of April we again moved forward, driving the enemy in such haste that they left their dinners cooking on the fires. Several times during the day, they opened on us with artillery, but a few shots from our battery would quickly send them on again. On the 17th we made another attempt to get at Jackson's army, by moving one Division up the Shenandoah River on the west side, and the other into New Market from the southwest. Our Regiment was with the latter Division. After fording a river up to our armpits, and finding it as cold as melting snow from the mountains could make it, we found that the enemy had again shown his heels and once more was away to the south.

During the next month we followed the retreating army of General Jackson to Harrisonburg, and then came back to Strasburgh. Here we made some little show of fortifying; but in the main, we were as easy and unconcerned as though the war was over. And in fact, the good news received from all quarters, and the orders from the War Department to stop all recruiting, led us to believe that the contest was nearly ended. In camp, bets were freely offered, with no takers, that the Regiment would be back in Wisconsin by September. I remember writing to a friend, about this time, that my part of the work of suppressing the Rebellion seemed to be about done. How sadly were we mistaken!

The Tables Turned

We had a rude awakening from our dream of peace. While we had been idling in fancied security, General Jackson had gathered a large force with which to overwhelm us. Our first intimation of trouble came on the night of May 23, when we were hastily called to defend our railroad bridge toward Front Royal against the attack of the enemy. The next day we were in full retreat toward Winchester.

When about half way to Winchester, the enemy, who had crossed from Front Royal, attacked our train in the front. The Fifth Connecticut and Twenty-Eighth New York were hurried forward, with the rest of the command following, and the road was soon cleared. But this had hardly been accomplished, when the enemy attacked in the rear, and cut off about fifty wagons. At this new danger a halt was called, and with two regiments and a battery, General Banks hastened to the rear. The lost wagons were recovered, but the animals having all been driven off or killed, it was necessary to burn the vehicles. Among the wagons destroyed was one containing all the rations and cooking utensils of my Company. We succeeded at night in securing a few crackers from some of the more fortunate companies, but most of my men went supperless to bed. Moreover, there were prospects for a lively fight in the morning.

I was awakened early by the picket-firing, which commenced at daybreak, and found myself thoroughly chilled from sleeping on the bare ground, without blankets or shelter. However, both hunger and cold were soon forgotten in the more pressing demands upon our attention. The position chosen by General Banks for the night's bivouac was probably the worst that could have been found between Strasburgh and the Potomac River. With seven regiments of infantry we occupied a small field lying between the outskirts of the city and the hills on the south. The enemy were in possession of the hills, where they had erected considerable fortifications. Colonel Gordon's Brigade was on the right of the road; that of Colonel Donnelly was on the left—all facing the enemy.

Our skirmishers were promptly advanced, and commenced firing on the enemy in their entrenchments. Supported by a battery in our rear, which fired over our heads into their position, we were maintaining a lively fire, when suddenly it was discovered that the enemy was passing around upon our right, with the evident intention of getting in our rear. The Twenty-Seventh Indiana and Twenty-Ninth Pennsylvania were hurriedly moved to the right, but had hardly reached their position when they were furiously assailed both in front and flank by the advancing Confederates. The Twenty-Ninth Pennsylvania received the first brunt of the attack, and soon was in full retreat. The Twenty-Seventh Indiana came in for the next attack, and they also fell back about a quarter of a mile to some stone walls on the outskirts of the city. Our Regiment and the Second Massachusetts, which as yet had scarcely been engaged, were now faced about and marched to the rear, until we reached the fenced lots on the outskirts of the town. Here we were halted, and opened fire on the enemy, who had appeared in large numbers upon our front.

We had soon checked the Confederates immediately before us. I was looking around to see how things were going with the others, when I became aware that Company F and a portion of my Company were entirely alone. It appears that orders had been sent around by General Banks to fall back to the north side of the city; but we, being separated from the rest of the Regiment by an intervening street, had not heard them. There we were, fighting the whole Southern army by ourselves! I hastened to Captain Limbocker to call his attention to our position. He saw the situation at a glance, and left-facing the companies, marched double-quick through the back streets toward the main road of the city. By this time our men had discovered that they were in a close place, and moved rapidly. Just as we reached the main street and turned north, I stopped to speak to the Captain, who was in the rear. As I did so, I saw that the whole street behind us to the south was swarming with Confederate soldiers, not fifty feet away. They were in such confusion, however, that it was impossible for them to fire, and in fact they did not seem to try. From that point until we were clear of the street, it was simply a foot race, in which we were the winners. They evidently soon tired of the race, for before we were clear of the street they had some artillery in position, and shot and shell were flying harmlessly over our heads.

We afterwards learned that Colonel Donnelly's Brigade, which at the beginning of the fight had been posted out of our sight on the left of the road, had also, like our Brigade, been assailed in front and in the flank; and that they also, had soon been forced back in full retreat.

We rejoined our Regiment in the line, without further trouble. From our position we could see the enemy on the hills west of us, endeavoring by rapid marching to reach the road in our rear. We stopped only long enough to gather up our men, who had become scattered in coming through the streets of the city, and then moved on toward Martinsburg. We did no more fighting and no more running. All of General Banks's command was ahead of us except two sections of artillery, and detachments of the First Vermont and First Michigan Cavalry, which protected our rear and kept the enemy at a respectful distance. During the retreat, General Banks did all that lay in the power of any man to bring off his men without loss, giving personal attention to the posting of the rear guard.

I suppose it was about eight o'clock in the morning when our Regiment began its march to Martinsburg, twenty-three miles distant. We arrived there at about five in the afternoon, without having stopped for dinner, and without rest. Indeed, we had no dinner to stop for, and the pursuing enemy were not inclined to let us rest. We expected to stop at Martinsburg, but General Banks did not deem it safe, so after a rest of a half hour we were ordered to proceed to Williamsport, Maryland, twelve miles farther on.

We arrived at the Potomac, opposite Williamsport, about ten o'clock that night, tired, hungry, and in no very good humor over the results of our two days' work. We managed to secure some salt pork and a few crackers for supper, after which we wrapped ourselves in our overcoats, and took such rest as could be obtained, amid the noise of men and teams crossing the ferry, and the calls of stragglers who were coming in and seeking their regiments. At three o'clock in the morning we were aroused, and ordered to the ferry. About an hour later we were across the Potomac on the Maryland side, drawn up in line of battle and waiting for the enemy.

General Banks was untiring in his efforts to bring our train over safely, even riding into the water to save mules that had lost their footing, and were in danger of drowning. He made a speech to the men, telling them that the enemy had advanced no farther than Martinsburg, and that 20,000 men had been sent to cut off their retreat.

The roll call taken at this time showed that eleven men of Company D were missing. Four of these came in the next day, having taken a different route than ours through the mountains. Four others turned up in Libby prison. Most of our men had thrown away their knapsacks, some their haversacks and canteens, and sixteen had lost their guns.

We remained at Williamsport until June 10, receiving new supplies of camp and garrison equipage to replace those that had been lost or destroyed.

We were rejoiced during this time to hear that the Confederates had had the tables turned on them; that they were being severely pressed between Shields's and Frémont's armies; and that all the baggage and prisoners that they had captured from us had been retaken, with a good deal more besides.

On the morning of June 10 we again crossed into Virginia, and marched to Front Royal without interruption. We passed through Winchester on the 12th without stopping, however, for the General seemed to fear that our men would burn the town in return for the treachery of its citizens during our retreat. Both men and women had fired on us from the windows, and had poured down scalding water as we passed through the streets. It was even reported to us that women had entered the hospitals, and shot sick men in their beds; but this last was later contradicted.

We remained at Front Royal until July 6, during which time important changes were made in commanding officers. All the troops in northern and western Virginia were united under General John Pope—the three army corps being commanded by McDowell, Sigel, and Banks. A movement was made to concentrate the three corps in one locality east of the Blue Ridge, in the accomplishment of which we were marched over the mountains at Chester Gap on the hottest day I ever experienced. Eight men of my company were sun-struck that afternoon, resulting fatally in one case, and in permanent disability in the others. We camped at night on the headwaters of the Rappahannock, in a country described as naturally poor, and entirely ruined by cultivation. There was one exception to this, however, in the abundance of fruit. There were cherries and blackberries in plenty for everybody.

While in camp near Little Washington, the unfortunate, bombastic orders of General Pope were published to the army; unfortunate, because they incited a degree of contempt for him which greatly impaired his usefulness. Many of his highflown phrases, such as "shame and disaster lurking in the rear," afforded a fine opportunity for the wits of the army, when, not three weeks later, his headquarters wagon and his personal baggage were captured by the enemy. About the first of August he arrived at the front, and on the next Sunday reviewed General Banks's corps. Pope's fine appearance, soldierly bearing, and evident knowledge of his business did much to inspire respect, and might even have made him popular, if we could only have forgotten that fool address to the army. He inaugurated, also, many real reforms. I don't know whether he was entirely responsible for it; but under his command the cavalry began to be of real service to the army, and the men could no longer ask, "Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?"

At Cedar Mountain

On August 7 we broke camp again and marched to Culpeper Court House. Here we learned that the enemy had been seen in considerable force near Cedar Mountain. We were not surprised, therefore, on the morning after our arrival, to be hastily formed and ordered off toward Cedar Mountain. We arrived at Cedar Run in the early afternoon, and found Crawford's Brigade of our Division already skirmishing with the enemy. Our Brigade immediately formed in line of battle on the right of the road, and threw out its skirmish line. At about four o'clock, my Company and four others were moved forward to reënforce the skirmishers.

We had crossed Cedar Run Creek, and were waiting for further orders in a heavy stand of timber, when Captain Wilkins of General Williams's staff rode up, enquiring for General Banks. Lieutenant-Colonel Crane informed him that we had seen nothing of General Banks since we entered the woods. Captain Wilkins then explained to us that General Augur was meeting with considerable success on the left, and that General Crawford desired our Brigade to join his in a charge upon the right. The movement required the sanction of General Banks, who was, however, nowhere to be found, and time was so pressing that he almost felt justified in giving the order himself, as coming from General Banks. Captain Wilkins then turned and rode off, but had not been gone two minutes, and had not, I am confident, seen General Banks, when he returned, and gave Colonel Ruger orders to assemble the Regiment on the right of Crawford's Brigade and charge the enemy's lines.

Our skirmish line was now called in; we formed in line of battle, and marched through the woods as rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit. We had soon come to its edge, and found before us an open field about a hundred and twenty-five yards across, separated from us by a rail fence. Immediately beyond the field, rose the thickly-timbered slope of the mountain; and there too, stationed directly in our front, was a battery of artillery. Of infantry, there were none to be seen.

We hurried forward, pushed down the fence, and without stopping to reform our line started on a run for that battery. I noticed as we went, that Crawford's Brigade had not yet arrived, and that we were alone in the field. Suddenly, from the side of the slope and from the bushes and rocks on our front, arose the Confederate infantry, and poured into our ranks the most destructive musketry fire that I have ever experienced. Lieutenant-Colonel Crane was killed, and fell from his horse at the first volley. Major Scott was wounded, being carried off by his horse. Captain Hawley, of the company on our right, was wounded, and a third of his men were killed or wounded at the same time. The right began to fall back, some of the men helping off wounded comrades, others loading and firing at the enemy as they slowly retreated to the woods. On the left, all three of my companies were standing up to their work without flinching. My Company, though suffering severely, were fighting like veterans. We did not seem to be gaining any advantage, however, and shortly the order came to fall back to the woods. My Company, and that of Captain O'Brien on the left, were the last to leave the field.

Under the shelter of the woods we reformed our companies. I still had about twenty-five men, Captain O'Brien about as many more, and a number of men from Company F had joined me on the right. We at once returned to the edge of the woods, the Colonel leading back the two left companies, and opened fire on the enemy, who was preparing to cross the open field. We soon were sent to the right, however, in order to make room for the Tenth Maine, and saw no more active fighting for that day. At twilight, when we were threatened upon our right flank, we returned across Cedar Run to the ground from which we had started.

Of the 8,000 men that were engaged in this battle, we lost about 2,000 in killed and wounded.

The loss in our Regiment was 117, mostly from the six companies that started in the charge on the battery. Lieutenant-Colonel Crane was killed, and Captain O'Brien mortally wounded. O'Brien had at the first charge been severely wounded in the thigh. When we retreated to the woods, he had showed me that his shoe was full of blood. He had, however, returned to the fight after binding up his wound with his handkerchief, and had been killed at the edge of the woods. My Company had, out of forty-five men engaged, lost two killed and fourteen wounded. Of these all but two of the wounded had been struck in the field where we first drew the enemy's fire, and in a space of time which I am confident did not exceed three minutes.

As some 30,000 or 40,000 troops were in the vicinity, who had not fired a shot, I supposed that the battle would be renewed in the morning; but it was not. The corps of General Sigel and McDowell were moved to the front, but occupied themselves only with gathering up the wounded. On the 11th the enemy sent in a flag of truce, asking for an armistice to bury the dead. This was readily granted, for we also had still on the battle-field many dead and severely wounded. On the 12th it was found that the Confederates had taken advantage of the truce to retreat during the night. Indeed, they retired in such haste that they left large numbers of their wounded in our hands. General Sigel pursued them to the Rapidan, while our Corps returned to Culpeper for a much-needed rest.

A great deal of criticism has been heaped upon all those who were prominently connected with this battle. Banks has been assailed for fighting the battle at all. It has seemed to many, an inexcusable piece of folly that he should have ordered the attack in such apparent ignorance of the position and strength of the enemy, and so near sundown that even if he had been successful, he could not have reaped any advantage. I have, however, doubted whether he ever made the order; but when once it had been made, he was obliged to put in his whole command or abandon everything that had been gained. Captain Wilkins who brought the order for our charge, later wandered into the Confederate lines while carrying orders, and I never heard of him again.

Pope has been criticized for not seeing that Banks was properly supported; but all the evidence obtainable shows that Pope did not wish or expect to fight a battle at that time. McDowell has been criticized with particular bitterness for not going to the aid of Banks, and charges of treachery were freely made against him. It was quite generally believed, even in his own command, that McDowell had no heart in the cause; and this belief—which later gained public expression in the dying statement of Colonel Brodhead of the First Michigan Cavalry, that he "died a victim to the incompetency of Pope and the treachery of McDowell"—caused his retirement as a corps commander.

The Army retreats Northward

We remained at Culpeper until August 18, when we were aroused at midnight and started on the road to the Rappahannock. We crossed over on the next day and went into camp about half a mile from the river. During all that day and night the army of General Pope was streaming across the Rappahannock to the north side, only a portion of his cavalry still remaining to the south. There was a great deal of speculation among the men as to the reason for this unexpected retrograde movement. It was rumored that General McClellan had been compelled to withdraw his army from the Peninsula, and that General Lee, released from the defence of Richmond, was marching our way. For once, rumor was correct. It was not many days before the whole of Lee's army was hunting to find an unguarded point at which to cross the river.

About noon on the day after our crossing, I was watching the movements of some of our cavalry who still remained on the other side of the river. I was standing on the top of one of the highest knolls in the vicinity, from which I had a splendid view of the country for a long distance southward. For nearly two miles the land was clear of timber or fences or any obstacle which could impede the movements of cavalry. Observing that our cavalry seemed to be coming back at rather a livelier pace than usual, I noticed what appeared to be either a large regiment or a small brigade of Confederate cavalry emerge from the woods to the south of the plain. They formed their lines and moved to the attack.

Our men, also, were soon in motion. As they approached each other the two bodies increased their pace, until both seemed to be moving at full speed. They met with a jar, and for some moments it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe. There could only be distinctly seen the flashing of sabres in the sunlight as blows were struck and parried, and the puffs of smoke from revolvers and carbines. For ten minutes or more the stirring fight went on without any apparent advantage to either side. But now another regiment of our cavalry, which had been out of sight up the river at the beginning of the fight, came down upon the Confederates at a hard gallop. It was but a minute before the latter were retreating back to the timber, perhaps hurried a little by a few shells from one of our shore batteries. A little later, I learned that our cavalry had taken about sixty prisoners.

On the night of August 22 the enemy were expected to make an attempt to cross the Rappahannock at Beverly Ford, where I was stationed on picket duty. During the night, however, the river rose almost ten feet as the result of heavy rains in the mountains. By morning, it was so raging a torrent that crossing was impossible. As soon as it was light, the enemy opened fire on us with fourteen pieces of artillery. I had already withdrawn my men from the river bank and stationed them where they could pour a heavy fire upon the Confederates, should they attempt to lay a bridge. I was therefore in a good position to watch at leisure the artillery duel which ensued. For two hours the shot flew back and forth across the stream, without, however, great damage to our side. At the end of that time the Confederates apparently had had enough and withdrew from their position.

The succeeding days were passed in hard marching, with hot weather, no tents or blankets, short rations, and a poor country to forage in. The enemy occasionally made demonstration as though to cross at the fords of the Rappahannock, but all the while moving up toward the mountains. On the evening of August 27, while we were in camp near Warrenton Junction, rumors began to circulate that they had appeared in large force at Manassas Junction, and were threatening to cut off our retreat to Washington. The next morning we were called out at three o'clock, and soon after were on the road to the Junction. The corps of Generals Heintzelman and Fitz-John Porter, which had been marching toward Warrenton, had also been turned back and were directly in our advance. We marched rapidly to Kettle River, a small stream about five miles from the Junction, where we were detailed to guard a train of ninety cars loaded with ammunition and provisions for our army. Here we learned that the enemy had on the previous day captured and destroyed at the Junction over a hundred and fifty cars loaded with supplies, but had in the morning encountered Hooker's advance division near Kettle Run, and had been driven with considerable loss beyond the Junction. We found on our arrival at Kettle Run, tangible evidence of the morning's fight, for a good many of the dead were still lying around.

Cannonading commenced early on the morning after our arrival, in the direction of Manassas, and continued all day. It was evident that a severe battle was in progress. Reports of our successes were continually coming in; we appeared to be driving the enemy at all points. It was said that the Confederates were surrounded on three sides, and hopes were strong that they would be captured before the main body of their army came up. The next morning, the battle was still in progress although it seemed to be farther away than it had been before. The most encouraging reports continued to reach us, and at night General Pope was credited with having said that our troops had won a complete victory.

While the battle was in progress, we had been occupied in rebuilding the bridge across Kettle Run, which the enemy had destroyed on the first day of their raid. We had it completed, and our train of cars moved across to Bristoe Station by the morning of the second day of the battle. We bivouacked that night north of Broad Run, happy in the thought that our troops had indeed vanquished the foe.

The next morning we were ordered to return to Bristoe. As we approached the station, dense clouds of smoke were rolling upwards from the place where we had left our cars. This gave us notice that the reports of victory had been false. The fact was, that the left wing of Pope's army had been driven back the night before, and it had been necessary to burn the cars in order to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. It had been possible to save only the supplies with which they were loaded. Our Corps, moreover, having received no notice of the reverse, was now in grave danger of being cut off from the remainder of the army. We managed, however, by rapid marching over a circuitous route to reach the north side of Bull Run in safety.

The next day we marched to a short distance beyond Centerville. Here we were halted, and stood in the road on our arms during a driving rain, while the battle of Chantilly was being fought only a short distance to the north. We remained standing in the road—or at least were supposed to be standing—all that night, the rain pouring down in torrents most of the time. After darkness had set in, however, the men quietly began to disappear into the neighboring woods, and soon I alone of all my Company was actually standing in the road. I was not greatly troubled over the breach of orders, for I knew that at the first intimation of danger every man would be in his place. I too found for myself as dry a place as possible, and wrapping my rubber coat about me, tried to secure a snatch of much-needed sleep. But I soon awoke so thoroughly wet and cold that further slumber was out of the question. I thereupon sought a fire that some soldiers had built, and endeavored to extract a bit of comfort from its friendly heat. Just as I was beginning to feel its warmth, a number of staff officers came along and ordered the blaze extinguished, for, said they, it was against the orders of General Banks. I stepped back into the darkness so as not to be recognized, concluding that if General Banks wanted that fire put out, he would get no help from me. The men standing near, however, kicked the burning brands apart as though to put it out, and the officers passed on. But they were not fifty feet away before the fire had been rekindled and was again dispensing cheer. This scene was repeated at frequent intervals until daylight, the fire continuing to burn in spite of all orders.

That morning we took the road about nine, and marched until midnight. On the morning after, we found that we were within the fortifications of Alexandria. Two days later we crossed the Potomac at Georgetown, and went into camp at Tennalleytown, D. C. Our wagons and camp equipage had preceded us. A mail also was awaiting us, the first that we had received since leaving Culpeper Court House.

We now had leisure to reflect upon our situation. It was indeed humiliating. Here we were, after six months of campaigning, back again at the point where we had started. The Grand Army of the Potomac forced to seek the shelter of the fortifications of Washington! The actual fighting had usually been in our favor. Why was it, then, that we had been forced back? We believed that the answer lay entirely in the fact that we had been outgeneralled. We felt that Pope and McDowell were the Jonahs who should go overboard. And overboard they went, not to be heard of again during the war. The reappointment of McClellan to command was everywhere received with pleasure. So far as my acquaintance went, the feeling was unanimous in his favor.

For several days we remained in camp enjoying the luxury of tents and beds after our strenuous experiences on the march. New regiments were in the meantime assigned to the old brigades. Ours received the Thirteenth New Jersey and the One Hundred Seventh New York, with a new corps commander in the person of General Mansfield.