CHAPTER XXIII.
THE ACTION AT PEGRAM FARM.

On the afternoon of September 25th, about five o'clock, orders to move were suddenly received, and immediately the quiet camp became a scene of bustling activity. Tents were hastily stripped from their poles, knapsacks packed in a hurry, and in half an hour, having been relieved by the Fifth Corps, we left our camp. After moving some four miles to the right a halt was ordered about nine o'clock, and the regiment bivouacked in the woods in the rear of the Second Corps.

On the following day tents were pitched, and the men remained idle in camp, the air thick with rumors, until the morning of the 28th, when the brigade marched to the "Gurley House," half a mile from "Yellow Tavern," "in such a manner that the enemy would notice the movement," to quote from the order received from regimental head-quarters.

The 29th was passed in feverish uncertainty, a move being expected at any moment. Staff officers and orderlies were riding to and fro, and cavalry in force moved toward the left; but the regiment did not leave its position. At night the excitement was heightened by the reading of a despatch from General Grant, announcing that the railroad between Petersburg and Richmond had been taken by General Ord, and that General Birney had defeated the enemy north of the James.

The morning of September 30th dawned upon a day of perfect autumnal beauty; but the balmy air, fragrant with the scent of the pines, the clear sunlight, and cloudless sky left little impress of their loveliness upon the minds of men who, after the broken slumbers of the night, were early astir preparing for battle.

The expected advance began about nine o'clock, the troops passing over the works of the Fifth Corps on the extreme left, and into the debatable land beyond. The column consisted of Ayer's and Griffin's divisions of the Fifth Corps, followed by Potter's and Willcox's divisions of the Ninth Corps. We followed the road through woods for about a mile, when a small country meeting-house, known as Poplar Spring Church, was reached. There our brigade line of battle formed at right angles to the road. Meanwhile the advance of the Fifth Corps had developed near the Peebles house, an outlying fortification of the enemy, consisting of a redoubt and flanking rifle-pits, upon which an assault was made, about ten o'clock, by Griffin's division, and easily carried, with trifling loss. The enemy, not having sufficient strength to resist after the loss of his entrenchments, promptly retreated to his main line, leaving about fifty prisoners and a piece of artillery in our hands.

The divisions of the Ninth Corps were now ordered to the front, and immediately advanced, passing the troops of the Fifth Corps, who were quietly resting with stacked arms near the captured redoubt.

The regiment moved forward in brigade line of battle in excellent form, and a rapid advance on the enemy's main line was anticipated; but, soon after passing the Peebles house, a halt was ordered, and the movement came to a complete stand-still.

For three or four hours this fatal and inexplicable delay continued, although it was evident that the advantage of a surprise was thus being thrown away, as the enemy must necessarily have been warned of our presence by the men who had withdrawn from the redoubt. At last, about the middle of the afternoon, the impatient and well-nigh disgusted soldiers were again ordered forward.

Our regiment moved by the flank toward the Boisseau house,—an abandoned dwelling that became prominent during the operations of the ensuing days,—gathering, in wayside gossip with adventurous sharp-shooters who had been looking after an opportunity for fancy shooting at the front, the cheering news that the rebel works, toward which we were advancing, had been strongly reinforced during our long halt. About five o'clock the Second Brigade, General Griffin, which was pushing forward on our right, slightly in advance, became engaged with the enemy's skirmish line, and General Curtin was ordered to make connection with that command. This was immediately done, our brigade forming in two lines of battle, as follows: Thirty-fifth Massachusetts, Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, Fifty-eighth Massachusetts, and Fifty-first New York, in the first line; Forty-eighth Pennsylvania, Twenty-first Massachusetts, and Thirty-sixth Massachusetts, in the second, though extending further to the left than the first line. The Seventh Rhode Island were in the rear with entrenching tools, and the Fourth Rhode Island acted as provost guard, their term of service having nearly expired.

By this formation the Thirty-sixth came into position on the extreme left of the brigade, and halted for a few moments near the Boisseau house, at a fence running along a sorghum field. Captain Burrage, with the skirmishers of the regiment, covered the front and left of the regiment, the line extending from the woods to the Boisseau house. The firing on our right now increased as the Second Brigade became hotly engaged, and our line was ordered over the fence, which was hastily crossed, and an advance of a few yards made into an open field, which extended a long distance to the right, exposing to view a large part of the brigade line of battle, while the enemy was concealed in the woods beyond. Here the regiment first met the whizzing rebel bullets, which became so troublesome as to cause the men to lie down; and, although the prostrate attitude was eminently adapted to the situation, the recumbent warriors may have been shamed, and were certainly encouraged, by the example of General Curtin, who at this juncture reached the front, and, followed by a single orderly, rode along the line of his brigade, as coolly as if on review. His horse was soon after shot under him, and a valuable saddle, sent as a present from his friends in Pennsylvania, fell into the hands of the enemy.

We momentarily expected an order to charge, but found that the situation was changing on the right, to which attention was drawn from the fact that at that point the line seemed to be falling back, which soon proved to be the case. Our regimental line stood inactive, no special pressure being brought to bear by the enemy in our front, until the retrograde movement became communicated to the regiment on our right, when we realized that the rebels, tired perhaps of waiting for our assault, had boldly sallied from their works and, sheltered by the surrounding wood, had successfully flanked our line.

As the whole force covering our right vanished, the regiment was subjected to a galling fire from that direction as well as the front. Colonel Draper then ordered a change of front, but seeing that the enemy's movement threatened to cut us off from our forces in the rear he changed the order to a movement by the left flank in the same direction.

The sorghum before mentioned save us a slight shelter, and we hurriedly made our way through it, the vicious "zip" of the rebel bullets giving us an incentive to haste. Reaching the ravine between the Boisseau house and the sorghum field we found remnants of several regiments of the First Division, which had fallen into disorder, still gallantly holding their ground, gathered in little groups around their colors. Here a stubborn stand was made, and the chief conflict of the day on the part of our regiment was fought. Many acts of individual gallantry might be mentioned, the officers, and in some noticeable instances the enlisted men, doing brave and serviceable work in rallying the scattered squads and endeavoring to check the advance of the enemy. But the force was unequal to the task, the Thirty-sixth being the only regiment that retained its organization; and the position soon became extremely critical.

A line of the enemy's skirmishers now appeared at the mouth of the ravine, on our left flank, and coolly picked off our men without opposition, our fire being mainly directed at the greater body of the rebel force, which had meanwhile pressed well around to our right, having cut off and captured a part of our brigade and driven back the remainder. The regiment could hold its ground but a short time under the demoralizing effect of a sharp fire from three sides, and Lieutenant-Colonel Draper, seeing that further resistance would be useless sacrifice, seized the colors, against the protest of Color-Sergeant Rawson, and gave the order to retire.

A lively scattering over the fences and through the grounds of the Boisseau house ensued, each man doing his level best to preserve a life for future usefulness to his country, and little breath was taken until the shelter of a reserve line and a section of Roemer's battery was secured. Here General Potter was found sitting gloomily on his horse, to whom Colonel Draper reported with fifty-two men of our regiment and twenty men of the Fifty-sixth Massachusetts as "the remains of his division." The men of the Fifth Corps and that part of the Ninth held in reserve had by this time been so disposed as to check any further advance of the enemy, and the battle ceased as darkness came on. The remnant of our regiment proceeded to the new line, which was found with difficulty in the dark, and remained for a short time in position at the edge of a piece of woods, picking up occasional stragglers.

During the evening we were ordered back to the line of works taken by the Fifth Corps in the morning, where we were soon joined by a detachment of about sixty men, under Captains Ames and Morse, which became separated from the colors in the retreat. As each party had for a time good reason for supposing the other to be in the hands of the enemy, the reunion was a joyful one. At roll-call the regiment mustered one hundred and forty-three men, the largest number by far of any regiment in the division, although some had three times that number in the ranks before going into action. The casualties in the Thirty-sixth were four killed, sixteen wounded, and sixteen missing,—a surprisingly small number in view of the perilous position in which the regiment was placed. The killed were Corporal Robert F. Webb, Company A, Privates Lyman H. Gilbert, Company E, Rufus H. Carter, Company I, and Belthezar Margenot, Company K,—the last two being transferred men from the Twenty-first Regiment. Sergeant Lucius L. Merrick, Company E, who rejoined the regiment the night before, was mortally wounded and died ten days later. Merrick was known throughout the regiment, and respected by all for his manly Christian character. He was a graduate of Amherst College, and at the time of his enlistment was preparing for the ministry. He had been twice wounded, at Knoxville and in the Wilderness, and was about to receive a commission in a regiment of colored troops. He was one of the best soldiers in the regiment, and his death caused sincere grief. Sergeant Charles Underwood, of Company D, was wounded in the knee near the Boisseau house, and fell into the hands of the enemy. His leg was amputated, and in a short time he was sent through to our lines. A second and third amputation followed a year or two later, and he died. Sergeant-Major Washburn was shot through the face, receiving a very severe wound, and Captain J. B. Smith, serving on the staff of General Potter, was shot in the hand, and suffered amputation of a finger.

Of the four divisions engaged the loss fell chiefly on ours, the number of missing being very large. The official report of casualties in the division was,—killed fifty-one; wounded two hundred and eighty; missing, one thousand three hundred and thirteen. A large proportion of the missing were from the First Brigade, as the regiments in its first line were cut off by the enemy's flank movement, and nearly all of the Fifty-first New York, and a large number of the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, and Fifty-eighth Massachusetts were captured.

The Second Brigade of our division first received the shock of the evening's charge, and when it was seen that it could not withstand it, the Seventh Rhode Island, in reserve, was ordered to form a new line near the Pegram house, and an order which, unfortunately, was not received by him, was despatched to General Curtin to fall back to the line thus established. If this movement had been made it is probable that the heavy loss in the brigade would have been avoided. Speculation as to the causes which occasioned this disaster to our corps is, perhaps, unprofitable, and can afford but little consolation; but one fact seems clear, that the delays and blunders of general officers, rather than cowardice or misconduct of the men fighting at the front, brought about the mortifying result. The vexatious and apparently needless halt after the first success of the Fifth Corps in the morning has been alluded to. This gave the enemy time to reinforce his threatened line, and the rebel commanders, thoroughly familiar with the ground, had their customary advantage of being able to direct their movements understandingly.[23]

[23] This action is called by the Confederates the battle of Jones' Farm. Lane's North Carolina brigade formed the enemy's right; one of Wilcox's brigades the left, with McRae's North Carolina brigade as a support. The latter, however, "rushed forward to participate in the fight." See History of Lane's North Carolina Brigade, in Southern Historical Society Papers, 1881, pp. 354-356.

During the night a storm began, and the day following was one of the most dismal and uncomfortable ever experienced by the regiment. No movement was attempted, but details were employed in reversing the works behind which we were bivouacked, so they might afford protection in case of an advance by the enemy. The work was very difficult, as the constant rain gave the freshly turned earth the consistency of mud. The aspect of the men, as they painfully prodded the moist ground with sticky shovels or crouched around smoky and sputtering fires, was lugubrious in the extreme, and their feelings corresponded with their looks. Occasional shots were exchanged by the pickets, and one man of the regiment, while sitting near a fire, was wounded by a stray bullet.