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CHAPTER XVII.
THE MOVEMENT ON PETERSBURG.

The movement of the army to the James was one of the most brilliant and successful of the war. It is one of the few of Grant's manœuvres which commands the unanimous approval of his enemies and severest critics. Swinton, in his "Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac," says: "The resolution to cross the James necessitated the total abandonment of that system of action which aimed, while operating against the enemy offensively, to directly defend the national capital. Moreover the operation was in itself one of great delicacy, a change of base being pronounced by Napoleon the foremost master of war, 'the ablest manœuvre taught by military art.' General Grant manifested as much moral firmness in adopting a line of action which ... he felt prescribed by the highest military considerations, as he showed ability in executing this difficult operation. The measure itself was not only entirely conformable to the true principles of war, but its execution reflects high credit on the commander, and merits the closest study."

The 15th of June was passed by our brigade quietly in camp, awaiting the completion of the pontoon bridge, from Douthard's to Windmill Point,—a distance of 2,200 feet, across a river navigable by the largest ships. At sunset we were ordered to draw four days' rations and be in readiness to move at short notice. At eight o'clock marching orders were received, and at nine o'clock we crossed on the pontoon bridge. The river was filled with vessels of every kind, at anchor,—transports, steamers, gunboats,—and presented a most spirited scene. Upon reaching the southern bank the march was prosecuted with great vigor; and as only two brief halts were made that night it proved to be one of the most wearisome of the campaign. Soon after daylight we halted near Prince George Court-House, for an hour, to make coffee. While engaged in that pleasant and refreshing task our ears were saluted by the sound of distant cannonading in the direction of Petersburg. This was a signal that our rest was to be of short duration.

It is no part of our purpose to criticise, or even narrate, the chapter of mishaps and blunders which attended the movement for the capture of Petersburg. It is sufficient to state that the golden opportunity was now passing,—the city which was defended by the militia had not been captured, and the army of the Potomac was being hurried forward, soon to cope once more with its old opponent, the veterans of the army of Northern Virginia.

At half-past eight the march was resumed in the direction of Petersburg. At ten o'clock we passed the line of earthworks which constituted the outer defences of the city, which were captured the day previous by the troops of the Eighteenth Corps. At one o'clock we came up with the advanced divisions of our own corps, already formed in line of battle on the left of the Second Corps. At three o'clock we were put in position on the extreme left, in the edge of a pine forest. Directly in front, across an open plain about half a mile in extent, stood the strong intrenchments of the enemy. Their outposts were well advanced, and heavy skirmishing was kept up on the right, and soon extended along the entire line. We were ordered to attack at six o'clock. At that hour the artillery opened, and the line moved forward across the plain. The Second Brigade supported the attack made by Barlow's Division of the Second Corps. Our regiment and the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania were held in reserve, to cover and protect the left flank, and extend the line should it be necessary. The advance was most gallant and determined, but was met by a fire of musketry and artillery which was fearfully effective. The ground was quickly traversed, and Barlow's division and Griffin's brigade succeeded in effecting a lodgment in some rifle-pits, and this was the only important result accomplished. Night came down upon the bloody plain, but did not put an end to the terrible conflict, for the enemy made several ineffectual attempts to regain the works he had lost. The musketry fire was terrific at times, and the battle throughout was fierce and bloody. Some ground was gained on the right, but no impression was made on the left. It was, however, determined to renew the assault at daylight, and the Ninth Corps was selected to make the attack.

After the assault on the 15th, which resulted in the capture of a portion of his line, the enemy constructed a new line in rear, connecting the enclosed works and redoubts of the old line still in his possession, which were on our left. The principal work, known as the Shand House redoubt, was very strong, and able to resist a most determined assault. It was nearly half a mile in front of his new main line, projected as a salient. The only promise of successful assault seemed to lie in capturing the line of breastworks connecting this redoubt with those on the left. The portion of the rebel lines in our front extended along the crest of a deep and narrow ravine near the Shand house. The position was very strong, and defended, as we afterwards learned, by five Tennessee regiments, composing the Third Brigade of Bushrod Johnson's Division of Infantry, supporting a battery of artillery. On our left two guns in a redoubt completely enfiladed the line of approach. The position seemed impregnable, and failure would doubtless be attended with fearful loss of life. A successful assault, however, would force the enemy to abandon the redoubts; and General Burnside believed the works could be stormed if the troops could be formed in the ravine without the knowledge of the enemy.

To General Potter, the gallant commander of the Second Division, was this most arduous and desperate task assigned. He immediately prepared for its execution. In order to reach the position it was necessary to make a wide detour to the right. This of itself was a most difficult matter. The slashing of pine timber presented a serious obstacle, and the ground was full of gullies and ravines, and in moving over them the command was much scattered. The enemy kept up an annoying and incessant picket fire, which increased the difficulties of the movement. Aware that a hazardous undertaking was being executed, the men maintained the utmost quiet, and obeyed every order with promptness and precision.

At length, nearly an hour past midnight, the column reached the head of the ravine, and the hungry and thoroughly exhausted men threw themselves on the ground, to gain, if possible an hour's rest. They had enjoyed no rest for more than forty-eight hours, and realized full well the terrible business the returning light would bring. Many in the brief half of that summer night closed their eyes in what proved to be their last earthly sleep. Many, doubtless, saw in dreams for the last time the faces of the dear ones at home. But all did not sleep. These thought of the past, of their childhood and homes, of the day whose dawn they were awaiting,—a day to receive its second baptism of patriot's blood! And who shall say that these true souls were not filled with the same exalted devotion to Freedom and Country which animated the heroes of Bunker Hill as they toiled on that memorable night of June, 1775?

But to sleeping and waking, the night waned apace. The moon which had been shining brightly now cast long shadows, and darkness settled in the ravines. The rebel pickets in our front grew drowsy, and through weariness ceased their firing. No sounds were heard save the distant rumble of wagons and artillery, the trickling of the brook in the ravine, and the subdued breathing of the worn and weary men. The mists from the stream ascended cold and gray, completely obscuring the troops. The favorable moment had arrived. Now if the lines could be formed in the ravine success seemed certain. This, however, was most delicate business. The enemy's pickets were on the hillside only forty feet distant, while above, upon the crest of the ravine, seventy-five feet beyond, stood the intrenchments filled with men. The least noise or indiscretion would betray our presence, and draw a murderous fire from the works above. Success depended on secrecy. Profound silence was enjoined. The tin dippers and canteens were placed in the haversacks, to prevent the telltale jingle. Muskets were loaded, but not capped, bayonets fixed, and orders given that not a shot must be fired until the works were reached.

The men were now thoroughly aroused, and all signs of weariness disappeared. The regiments were one by one moved down the brookside into the dark ravine, and soon the lines were formed. Griffin's brigade was on the right, with the Seventeenth Vermont, Eleventh New Hampshire, and Thirty-second Maine, in the front line; the remainder supporting; Curtin's brigade on the left, with the Second New York Rifles, Thirty-sixth Massachusetts, and Forty-eighth Pennsylvania, in the front line. The Second New York Rifles had the right, the Thirty-sixth the centre, and the Forty-eighth the left. The remainder of the brigade were to support the front line. Griffin was to charge toward the house bearing to the right; Curtin to bear to the left, toward the redoubt.

The hour fixed for the assault—three o'clock—drew on. The word "Forward!" was whispered, and with cat-like steps the men advanced. A fence obstructed the advance of our brigade, and in attempting to remove it a rail was accidentally dropped, and instantly a half-dozen shots from the works above revealed the fact that the enemy was on the alert. For a moment the plan seemed frustrated; but a death-like quiet reigned in our line, and soon the enemy became reassured.

Again, cautiously and quietly, the men crept forward. At the given signal they rose erect, rushed for the picket line, and carried it in an instant. Then, with one loud, ringing cheer, like a billow of the ocean, irresistible and deadly, they dashed on up the hill. On they went, right into the hot flash of musketry and smoke of cannon, regardless of the wounded and the dead, regardless of the fire, without a shrub to shield them from the withering blast.[17]

A fierce, though brief, struggle ensued at the works. As the rebel commander was pulled over the breastworks as a prisoner he shouted to his men, "Stand firm! Their right is all gone!" The Second New York had broken in the first fire, and left our right badly exposed. The Forty-fifth was sent forward to protect the right, and the Fifty-eighth Massachusetts extended the line to the left. The enemy discovered the break in our line, and commenced a sharp cross-fire upon the regiment. At this critical moment, Captain Smith, commanding the regiment, with wonderful presence of mind, turned toward the left, and shouted, at the top of his voice, "Fairbank! bring up your brigade!" at the same moment yelling "Charge!" The ruse had its desired effect, and before Lieutenant Fairbank could hurry his brigade of eight men, of Company K, from the left the enemy wavered, our men leaped the works at a bound, and captured all the defenders who did not take to their heels.

In the desperate struggle acts of individual gallantry and heroism were performed which time would fail to recount.

The line was carried and the enemy were driven from the breastworks, the redoubts, and from a second line where they attempted to rally. Four pieces of artillery were captured,—two by the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania and our regiment; one by the Seventeenth Vermont; and one by the Eleventh New Hampshire; also the colors of the five regiments defending the line, six hundred prisoners, and more than fifteen hundred muskets and equipments and ammunition. The colors of the Fourteenth New York Heavy Artillery, lost in the attack the night before, were recaptured, nor were these the only trophies of the victory,—an important point had been carried; the rebels had been forced to take a new position; the Shand house, Avery house, and more than a mile of ground, were now in our possession. It was a great victory, but not what it might have been. It was the old story over again,—a most spirited and gallant attack without adequate supports. Had a single corps been on the ground in position, or had the divisions which were ordered to support us been ready to advance, the fearful carnage of the two succeeding days would doubtless have been prevented, and the long, tedious, wasting, bloody siege of Petersburg might have been avoided.

None who participated in that attack will fail to remember the morning of the 17th of June while life shall last. It was the most brilliant and successful engagement in which the regiment had ever had a part; and yet in many respects it was one of the saddest days of our history. Though the victory was ours, it had been purchased at a heavy cost. The number of the regiment engaged was less than ninety men, many having fallen out exhausted in the forced march from the James; yet from that small number three were killed, and sixteen wounded,—four of them fatally. In the thickest of the fight, amid the terrible energies of the battle, these brave men fell martyrs to the cause of their country.

One of the first to fall was Captain Otis W. Holmes, of Milford, commanding Company B, who received a mortal wound. The regiment sustained no severer loss during its term of service. Few men possessed in so marked and special degree the respect and affection of his men. Strong and vigorous in body and mind; a brave, fearless soldier; a cool, sagacious adviser; careful and prudent of his men,—he was a noble specimen of manhood, and an ideal soldier. It is much to say of an officer that he was cool and brave, equal to any emergency; but far more to say truly of him that he was pure, good, and noble. All this can be truly said of Holmes. The entire regiment had learned to love and esteem him, and his untimely death was mourned by all who knew him.

The non-commissioned officers contributed more than their proportion to the loss sustained that day, and among the killed and wounded were some of the bravest and best soldiers of the regiment. The little line of battle was sadly dwindled, and, after detailing a portion of the guard required in sending the prisoners to the rear, there remained in the ranks but forty-six enlisted men.

The loss of the regiment in killed and wounded, June 17th, was as follows:—

After the wounding of acting Color-Sergeant Stevens, the colors were taken by Corporal William Macomber, Company E, and carried by him during the remainder of the regiment's term of service.

But no time was allowed us to mourn over our fallen comrades; the wounded were sent to the rear while preparations were made for an advance. We pressed forward until the enemy was found to be in a new position. The division also formed a new line, in advance of the position we had carried, the left resting on a redoubt in that line. The enemy advanced a battery down the plank road and opened a severe fire. Soon after, the front regiments of our brigade were relieved in the advanced line, and found shelter from the artillery fire in the ditch of the redoubt on the left, where we were exposed to a severe shelling. Here we remained until half-past nine, when the regiments which had formed the front line in the assault were withdrawn to the woods half a mile in the rear for rest, after receiving warm words of praise from General Potter and Colonel Curtin.

The battle raged almost without intermission during the day. Charges were made by the First and Third Divisions of our corps, and the tide of battle surged along the entire front. About eight o'clock in the evening the regiment was sent for, and moved across the plain to the front line. The evening was very clear, the moon shone brightly, and as we neared the works we attracted the attention of the enemy, who opened upon us with artillery; but our batteries replied and soon silenced the enemy's guns. We were put in position in a line of works captured by the First Division, and were engaged nearly all night in facing them about. The enemy attempted to interrupt the work, without success. A strong line of skirmishers was deployed, and the digging was continued under an annoying fire of musketry.

On the morning of the 18th, at nine o'clock, we moved out by the right flank to support an assault about to be made by the Third Division. The attack was to have been general along the entire line; but the enemy had fallen back to a new line, and the assault was delayed until new dispositions of the troops could be made. The line advanced toward noon, through a belt of pine woods, into a clearing. A portion of our brigade was in the front line. The Forty-eighth Pennsylvania and our own regiment supported. After leaving the woods the line advanced through a field of grain toward the Taylor house, the rebel skirmish line falling back to a cut of the Norfolk Railroad which afforded a deep cover. The enemy was found to be strongly intrenched beyond the railroad, with a winding ravine in front, through which flowed a small creek, the banks of which immediately in our front were covered with a dense thicket. Artillery was ordered forward to cover the attack of the infantry, and our regiment supported the gallant advance of Captain Roemer's battery. The fire of the enemy was so close and hot that he was obliged to leave his horses in the edge of the wood. He then put his guns in position in the open field, run two guns by hand to a dilapidated building on our right, and, although he lost several men, soon secured some protection, got good range, and opened a rapid and effective fire on the enemy.

Jones' Eleventh Massachusetts battery was soon after put in position in rear of our left, and fired at such short range that for a time we were obliged to "hug the ground," being exposed to two fires,—from front and rear. His shells inflicted great damage on the enemy, although they passed uncomfortably near our own heads.

It being of the utmost importance to secure the railroad-cut, the batteries opened a furious fire, under cover of which the brigades in the front line, led by Generals Hartranft and Griffin and Colonel Curtin, made a splendid charge, and succeeded in driving the enemy out of the railroad-cut into their works beyond.

The portion of our brigade was between Griffin and Hartranft. The line of the railroad crossed our front diagonally, and on our right, at the point where the enemy's main line crossed the railroad, a small redoubt had been erected, in which was placed a single piece of artillery. This gun had perfect range of the railroad-cut, and completely enfiladed our line with a severe fire of grape and canister. While our line in this position was well protected from the fire in front, it was exposed to this hot fire from the right flank. The attention of our batteries was soon bestowed upon this gun in the redoubt; and the men tore up the railroad-ties, and erected a barricade which afforded them ample protection from the fire.

It was now comparatively easy to hold the railroad-cut, but to advance was quite another matter. The railroad-bank was high, and so steep that the men had to dig holes in the side of it to place their feet, and as soon as a man showed his head above the bank he was a target for the rebel sharp-shooters. On the left the troops moved forward as far as the ravine. At three o'clock a general attack was ordered, but the difficulties to be overcome were so great that a long delay ensued in preparing the line for advance. At half-past five the whole Third Division, and Second Brigade, and four regiments of our brigade, made a determined attack on the works, then defended by Kershaw's division of Longstreet's veteran corps. Nothing could exceed the heroic daring of the advance, under the fearful fire of the enemy at point-blank range, covering every inch of the ground from the railroad-cut to their earthworks. The line was strong and well defended, yet, notwithstanding, all the ground from the railroad to the ravine was carried; the ravine was crossed and the crest beyond secured, and the ground held up to within a little more than a hundred yards of the enemy's works.

During this gallant attack Colonel Curtin, our brigade commander, was severely wounded in the shoulder, and the command devolved upon Lieutenant-Colonel Pleasants of the Forty-eighth. At half-past five the regiment, being in support of the batteries, was ordered to throw up a line of intrenchments for protection from the sharp-shooters, who were picking off the gunners. The loss during the afternoon had been severe, considering the numbers of the regiment and its position in the battle,—two men killed and seven wounded.

After the last attack the firing slackened somewhat, and was confined to the front line of battle, and it was fondly hoped that the record of sacrifice and bloodshed for that day was fully made up. The company cooks brought up the coffee,—the only refreshment the regiment had received since daylight. The men were huddled behind the low breastwork eating supper, when the attention of Captain Buffum was attracted by some movement in front, and he rose to ascertain the cause. He had just remarked that he was the only member of the large mess that crossed the Rapidan who had escaped death or wounds, and laughingly said, "It is the rule for all to be struck; but every rule has an exception." He had scarcely risen to his feet when the fatal bullet, directed by the unerring aim of the watchful rebel sharp-shooter, struck him. He uttered a piercing cry, sprang into the air, fell back, and in a few moments passed beyond the reach of pain. The scene was witnessed by nearly all the regiment, and sent a thrill of horror to every heart.

At any time his death would have been a severe loss; at such a moment it came with almost crushing weight, and seemed irreparable. He was the senior officer in years, and then the second in rank of a fast-dwindling band. He was beloved and respected by all, and his death cast deep gloom over the entire regiment. We recalled his patience and bravery during the entire campaign, the sorrow which seemed to pierce his heart as he referred to the great losses of his company, and especially the wonderful coolness he displayed at Spottsylvania, when, in advance of the line, he received the rebel fire, and returned to draw back the left wing and save the regiment, if not the entire division, from capture or death.

After dark, when the line had been established for the night, the Adjutant was sent to corps head-quarters to beg permission that the Captain's remains might be sent at once to City Point for shipment to Massachusetts. General Burnside was found lying prone on the ground under a tree. The case was briefly stated. "Buffum," said he,—"is Buffum dead? Why, he was in North Carolina with us! He was a brave man—I remember him well. Oh!" he added, with much emotion, "how fast these brave men are going!" Then calling his Adjutant-General, the order necessary for the removal of the body was given in terms which revealed his noble, sympathetic nature.

The loss of the regiment, June 18th, was as follows:—

That evening there were in the line less than one hundred men, with four commissioned officers,—Captains Smith and Ames, First Lieutenant Fairbank and Adjutant Hodgkins,—all that remained for duty of the four hundred and ninety-five men in line on the morning of the 6th of May. Assistant Surgeon Bryant, who had not been absent from the line an hour, was on duty at the Field Hospital, and Quartermaster Tuttle was in charge of the wagons and baggage. On the 6th of May we had twelve officers in the line of battle; we were joined at Spottsylvania by Captain Smith and Lieutenant Brigham. From this number four—Captains Bailey, Holmes, Buffum, and Lieutenant Daniels—had been killed in action. Five—Major Draper, Captains Morse and Barker, and Lieutenants Marshall and Burrage—had been wounded, and were absent on that account; and one—Lieutenant Brigham—had been sent to General Hospital at Annapolis. Of the four in the line, three—Captains Smith and Ames and Lieutenant Fairbank—had been struck by the bullets of the enemy, but not seriously injured. The total loss of the regiment, as officially reported to the Adjutant-General, including the men of the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts and Forty-sixth New York, was—

Late that evening General Potter relieved the Third Division, and occupied the entire front of the corps, connecting with the Second Corps on the right, and the Fifth Corps on the left, holding the advance as a skirmish line.[19]