History of the Sixteenth Connecticut Volunteers Part 7

CASUALTIES.

Killed in action, 47 Died of wounds, 45 Died of disease, 73 Died in prison, 177 Shot in prison, 1 Supposed shot while attempting to escape from prison, 1 Lost at sea from burning steams.h.i.+p "General Lyon," 1 Drowned from accident, 1 Drowned from collision of "Black Diamond," on Potomac river 7 --- Total deaths, 353

Discharged prior to muster-out of the regiment, 386 Captured at Antietam, 12 Captured at Plymouth, 435 Wounded, 212 Missing, 56 --- Total Casualties, 1454

The regiment as mustered into service numbered, 1007 Recruits, 75 Officers appointed since first muster, 5 --- Total, 1087

Number returning home with the regiment, 131

The officers who returned were: Lieutenant Colonel John H. Burnham, Commanding.

Major Henry L. Pasco.

Surgeon Nathan Mayer.

Quartermaster Gordon Robins, Jr.

Adjutant Herbert Landon.

Chaplain Charles Dixon.

Captains C.W. Morse, Henry Hintz, Joseph H. Barnum.

Lieutenants George A. Bowers, A.J. Case, Harmy Bruns and B.F. Blakeslee.

The above list of casualties is far from correct, but is as accurate as can be obtained from the Catalogue of Connecticut Soldiers, issued by the Adjutant General of the state, with some additions well known by surviving members. The casualties were greater rather than less, than the figures given above. The number given as killed, are those who were killed outright; but it is generally believed that a greater number died from wounds than the regiment has been credited with, for within forty-eight hours after the battle of Antietam, nine died from wounds; and out of the seven wounded at the fight on Providence Church road at Suffolk, three died. It is therefore safe to say that forty-five is too low a number of deaths out of 212 wounded. It is also believed that more than twelve were captured at the battle of Antietam. There is also no doubt that the regiment lost at least _two hundred and twenty_, by death from rebel cruelties and starvation.

Eighteen can be counted who died immediately after arriving at Wilmington and Annapolis from southern prisons.

The Sixteenth was always called an _unfortunate regiment_; for if there was any special hards.h.i.+p to endure, the regiment was sure to be called on to experience it, either by accident or otherwise. It was our bad luck.

The list of casualties show in how many ways the men were lost. Some of the men and two of the officers never could be accounted for.

Lieutenant George Johnson, who escaped from prison at Charlotte, has never been heard from. It is supposed that he was shot by guerrillas, who infested the locality in which he said he was going to reach the Union lines. Lieut. William H. Miller was last seen at Was.h.i.+ngton on his way to the regiment after having been exchanged. It is supposed that he was taken sick and died in the hospital. Elbert Sutleff, Co.

K, was lost at sea by the burning of the steams.h.i.+p "General Lyon."

Quite a number of the men who were returning to the regiment after captivity, were on a steamer going down the Potomac river in the night when the boat collided with the "Black Diamond." All the pa.s.sengers jumped aboard the Diamond, which went down, and the regiment lost seven men. Some of the saved remained in the water three or four hours.

On Sunday, June 25th, the regiment proceeded to Morehead City, and embarked on the steam transport "General Meigs," with the 23d Ma.s.sachusetts Regiment, and the Connecticut Brigade Band, which, learning that we were mustered out and on our way home, had obtained an order from General Palmer to be sent home under charge of Lieutenant Colonel Burnham. The sea being rough we did not leave till the next morning. We arrived at New York late on the afternoon of the 28th. Taking on some rations we proceeded to New Haven, arriving there at an early hour in the morning. Procuring special transportation, we reached Hartford at eight o'clock. Being a Hartford regiment, the citizens had made extensive arrangements to welcome us, but the 18th Connecticut had arrived that morning by boat and while their attention was drawn towards them, the Sixteenth suddenly entered the Asylum street depot. The news soon reached the State House Square, and the bell was rung, and by the time the regiment was in line the Governor's Guard, City Guard, and Colt's Band were on the "double quick," and thousands of citizens were hurriedly approaching the depot. Many who had seen the regiment leave for the war three years before, and now witnessed the decimated ranks were effected to tears. Those who had husbands, brothers, or relatives in the regiment, watched us eagerly and looked strangely into the ranks, hardly believing that any could be missing. One lady, the wife of an officer, was told for the first time of her husband's death. So great was her grief, that friends who accompanied her could hardly get her into a carriage to convey her home.

From the Hartford Courant, June 30th, 1865.

THE SIXTEENTH.

"Everybody supposed that this gallant regiment would arrive here on the 9.45 regular morning accommodation train from New Haven, but the "boys" being accustomed to making surprises secured special transportation and were in the Asylum street depot by eight o'clock.

Here they were received by the Governor's Guard, the City Guard, and Colt's band, and escorted up High to North Main street, down Main to State. On the march, though few in numbers, (but one hundred and thirty enlisted men returning) their tidy and soldierly appearance was the subject of general comment. Being a Hartford regiment there was an unusual interest manifested to see them, and signs of welcome were apparent on every hand. Arriving in front of the United States Hotel, they were drawn up in line, and Governor Buckingham made a brief speech congratulating them on their safe return and extending them cordial greetings on behalf of the State."

Hon. Ezra Hall was then introduced, and welcomed the regiment in behalf of the city in an eloquent manner as follows:

_Officers and Soldiers of the Sixteenth Connecticut_: Heroes of many a hard-fought battle, and worthy veterans of a redeemed country! On a beautiful summer day in 1862, when the nation was in its greatest peril, and rebel powers seemed successful for a time in driving back the armies of the Republic, placing in jeopardy all our hopes and every interest of free government, you, more than a thousand strong and valiant men, volunteered to place your names upon the muster-roll among the country's defenders. That roll of honor will go down the centuries and in the far off future the lover of freedom will unroll the scroll, and call your names as among the heroic volunteer force who cemented the _Union_ of these States, and proclaimed through the immortal Lincoln, freedom to all mankind. It was hard to leave your situations, your homes, and those you loved. And a sharper pang would steal along your feelings as you thought the step might take you forever from the dear New England hills and all you held dear. But manfully you resolved, and the pensive feelings that evidenced so well your better life, while preparing for the decision, made you braver as you stood on the enemy's grounds, striking for the very homes you left, and the government of your fathers. But the question was decided for country; and you went out from your homes to camp. Hard were your pillows, and the long and weary days went slowly on.

Friends gathered to see you in your tents, and to pay you a tender tribute ere you went out to battle. They chatted and counselled with heavy hearts, but asked holy benedictions for your safety and through you for the country. Who of you can forget the stirring emotions of those meetings and partings. For a few days you drilled and disciplined for the coming strife.

The order came. You struck your tents--pa.s.sed down the very streets on which we stand, with colors flying and music measuring out the solemn step of war. No braver regiment ever went out from our city or State. Made up mostly of Hartford men, born and cradled under the very branches of the Charter Oak, we knew well what would be your history, and we watched with pride your firm and steady ranks, as you filed along these streets. As we followed with anxious eye the steamer winding down the Connecticut, bearing its precious freight, with the Stars and Stripes streaming in the wind, we felt a security and an indebtedness, which we now have all come to acknowledge. You went to New York, pa.s.sed the capital of your country, and in a few days stood on the b.l.o.o.d.y fields of Antietam. There, in the old Ninth corps, under the faithful Burnside, you first realized war, and stood on the fated field of death. That was a sad day for the 16th Connecticut. Two hundred of your comrades, officers and men, had fallen, and when the shadows of evening closed on that historic day, your hearts, sad and broken, went up in thankfulness to G.o.d for your preservation. Well do I remember the sadness that settled over this city, as the news came across the wires that death had cruelly thinned and decimated your ranks, and that among the brave who had fallen were the n.o.ble Captains Manross, Drake, Brown, and Barber; but you had only time to bear out the n.o.ble two hundred to their sepulture, and to place some humble stone to mark their rest, before you were ordered to the fields of Fredericksburg.

There bravely you stood through three long days of battle. From there you moved to Suffolk, where your ranks were again broken, and the brave Capt. Tennant fell--he who was beloved at home and dear to the Hartford City Guard, of which he was a member, and who followed him with reversed arms and bowed hearts, to yonder church yard where now he sleeps. Peaceful will be his rest, and sacred his memory, for he died for country and humanity. Slowly the days went by as you were garrisoned at Portsmouth, and long were your marches from Plymouth to New Berne. You will never forget, but will tell over to your children through all the coming years of your lives, how after a long siege by the rebels at Plymouth, nearly your entire regiment was captured, and taken away to rebel prisons at Macon and Andersonville; how of the four hundred and four unfortunate captives who entered Andersonville prisons, more than half were borne out lifeless and cold. My blood chills when I remember that more than two hundred of this regiment were starved and murdered in Southern prisons--imaging more perfectly the h.e.l.l of secession and the barbarism of Southern inst.i.tutions and chivalry, than any other page of the war. But you have been preserved to come back to your homes, and to watch again the flag of your country waving over your native city. You well remember how beautiful it looked to you when first you saw its colors after the hour of your deliverance came, and you pa.s.sed the rebel lines. That flag to-day symbolizes the greatest freedom and the most perfect nationality. "'Tis the banner of all the West," that of a nation now p.r.o.nounced--

"The heir of all the ages in the foremost files of time."

But your work is done and your history is sealed. In the name of those for whom you fought and who have gathered here to do you honor it is my privilege to say a thousand times welcome home.

Your thinned ranks, your torn colors, give convincing proof of your deeds of bravery The state will hang your tattered flag in yonder capitol, and claim with pride your history, and through all the future of the country, her sons will love, respect, and honor you as the brave soldiers who fought in the last great battle for freedom.

But our city has a special interest in your history. You have been led by the honored Col. Beach; and the name of your Lieutenant-Colonel, he who would not leave his regiment for the colonelcy of another, he who has been with you in the camp, in the battle, in the prison and on the march until now, than whom there is none better, or braver on all the veteran roll, his name, John H. Burnham, has long been with us as a household word. Think it not strange that the Hartford City Guard extends a warm and earnest welcome to you, for the names of Burnham, Cheney, Tennant, Pasco, Burke, Lockwood, and Blakeslee, are all ours. As brothers we have watched your history during all these years of war. But while you are privileged to return all covered with honor and glory, and are to go to your homes, to be welcomed by mothers, wives, sisters, and lovers, n.o.ble patriotic women, in whose life there dwells the tenderest sentiment for you and country ever unlocked from the starry skies,--while you are to enjoy all this, I cannot forget the brave, devoted boys, comrades in all your trials until death, who will never, never come home again. They died, as you have fought, for country, for the restoration of law and order, for the complete emanc.i.p.ation of a race, for the eternal principle of liberty, and for the final solution of the great problem of self-government. They fell away from home and friends, and most of them rest in Southern graves, but though they fell thus, they died at their posts. History will keep fresh their memories, and write their names on more than granite shaft or marble column.--

After an eventful life and a n.o.ble death, they rest well.

"Sleep sweetly, tender hearts, in peace, Sleep, holy spirits, blessed souls, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll."

The friends of the dead of your regiment are more than of the living, and my heart was sad as I saw the tears start in the eyes of the little child, the tender maiden and the mother with her little ones, as they looked in vain among your pa.s.sing ranks for their friends. But they will never again watch their returning footsteps, or hear the sweet sound of their voices. No words of mine can heal their wounded hearts. I can only say they have the highest claim upon the nations' grat.i.tude. The n.o.ble deeds of their martyred dead will ever live in the archives of the State, and their memories will be embalmed forever in the feelings of the American people.

Thrice welcome then, tried and faithful veterans of the republic. Go bear your honors and your trophies to your homes, and around your own hearths be as great and good as you have been in war.

Breakfast was provided for the regiment at the Trumbull House and United States Hotel, after which a short street parade was had, the City Guard and Colt's band furnis.h.i.+ng escort. Arms were then stacked in the armory of the Guard, and the regiment was dismissed, the men being allowed to go to their homes as most of them live in this vicinity, and fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and wives were waiting to extend _their_ welcome. Before leaving the armory Colonel Burnham read the following farewell order:

HEADQUARTERS 16TH CONN. VOLS., INFANTRY, Hartford, Conn., 29th June, 1865.

General Orders No. 10.

_Soldiers of the Sixteenth Connecticut_--Glad as I am that the war is over and we are all to rejoin our families and friends again, I cannot repress a feeling of sadness at the thought of severing, perhaps forever, the ties that have bound us together for the last three years. Although a less amount of glory in the field has fallen to our lot than to some others, no regiment from the State has been subjected to so much suffering. Whatever you have been ordered to do, you have done promptly, cheerfully, and well; and whenever in future I am asked of what in all my life I am proudest, I shall always answer "that I belonged to the 16th Connecticut, in the Union army." Placed in charge of the regiment under circ.u.mstances that might have made my task a difficult one, it will always be a source of the highest gratification to me to remember that I received the generous support of all, and to the effective co-operation of every officer and the high character of the men, belongs entirely the credit of the fine soldierly appearance and superior military condition in every respect you so soon acquired, and have not failed to maintain to this day. For those gallant comrades who have laid down their lives on the battle-field and in the hospital, and for those heroic men who have endured so much more than death in Southern prisons, let us shed a silent tear and ever cherish their memories tenderly in our hearts.

You are about to go to your homes to enjoy in peace the blessings of the great and good government you have done your share to defend and preserve to our magnificent country, and I desire that each one of you should take with him my sincere thanks, for the cordial and hearty support you have given me, and the cheerful manner in which you have performed every duty required of you while I have the honor to be your commander.

Wis.h.i.+ng you every success that you can desire, and trusting you may find in your restored firesides all the comfort and happiness you have so n.o.bly earned, I bid you an affectionate farewell.

JOHN H. BURNHAM, Lieutenant-Colonel 16th Conn. Vols. Infantry.

On July 8th, the regiment a.s.sembled in Hartford, and were paid in full, except the officers who received their pay when returns were made and all property properly accounted for. Thus ended the organization known as the Sixteenth Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.

Its record is a credit to the State and an honor to every man who has shared in its fortunes.