Drum Taps in Dixie Part 9

An officer rode up to our colonel and gave him instructions to report to Gen. Tyler off to the right of the open field. We were a.s.signed a position behind a low stone fence, where we waited for about fifteen minutes. While lying there the order was given to "fix bayonets." If you have "been there" yourself you know all about it. If not, let me tell you in all sincerity that the clicking of the cold steel will make an impression on one that will send the chills down his spine every time he thinks of it in after years.

HORRIBLY SUGGESTIVE.

From our position behind the wall we could not see the fighting, but the din of the battle came rolling and cras.h.i.+ng to us through the woods and the wounded from the front line kept coming to the rear, covered with blood and the smoke of battle.

The sight wasn't pleasant, and moreover it was an object lesson that was horribly suggestive. The affair was getting too serious for much joking by the merrymakers in the ranks. The men were silent, but I know that they were doing a heap of thinking.

The orders to go forward did not come any too soon, for the suspense of waiting is ten times more trying to a man's nerves than to charge the enemy's lines.

We moved across another open field, where a Jefferson county battery ("C"

of the 1st Artillery) was in position and sh.e.l.ling a piece of woods.

Gen. Tyler ordered our colonel to detail two companies to support the battery and our company was one of them. I had to go with the regiment, and my father stay with his company. There was not much time for leave-taking. The father drew his boy to his side, pushed his cap back, pressed his lips to his forehead. Neither spoke. It was not necessary.

Each knew the other's thoughts.

Capt. Smith, whose heart was tender as that of any woman,--"The tenderest are the bravest"--patted the drummer boy of Co. H on his shoulder as they parted and when a few feet had separated them called to him "good-bye,"

and waved his sword in what might be the last farewell.

Our regiment took an advanced position to the left of the battery where we were ordered to lie down and the men loaded their rifles. "Begins to look like business, boys," remarked Dave Russell. Little puffs of dust were kicked up here and there as the rebel bullets struck the ground in our front.

Soon they came nearer and finally began to go over our heads with a "zz-p-" or a "c-s-ss-s-" which indicated that the Confederates were crowding back the Union lines. "This ain't a fair show," observed one of the boys. "Let us lay here and get plugged full of lead and never see a reb or get a chance to shoot one."

The surgeon ordered us to leave our knapsacks, drums, etc., in the yard of a house near by, and I will mention now that up to this time we have never seen that house again.

About the time we had got ourselves in fighting trim Gracey's bugle sounded "forward," and our regiment went across the field on a run and into the pine woods, the artillery behind us throwing sh.e.l.l over our heads. The woods were full of flying missiles and the first the Second New York knew they got a volley of musketry from the flank and rear.

Investigation revealed the fact that the troops who had fired the volley were the Seventh New York. The woods were so dense and full of smoke that it was hard to discern a body of troops a short distance away. The enemy could only be located by the flash of their guns.

Our colonel was ordered by Gen. Tyler to hold a slight elevation near a ravine. Our lines were spread out and the men ordered to lie down.

"Steady, men, and don't shoot too high," sang out Col. Whistler. "Better order them rear rank fellows to aim higher or they'll blow our brains out," says one of the front rank men.

"Shut up; no talking in the ranks!" commanded Adjutant Corwin. All of this time men were getting hit by the rebel bullets. "Bill Wright's killed,"

someone said, and the news was pa.s.sed along the line.

"If I was in command of this regiment I'd order a charge on the Johnnies and I'd drive them or git licked in the attempt," said big Dave Russell.

One of the saddest sights of the day was to see the major of the First Ma.s.sachusetts as he rode back through our lines with a bullet wound in his forehead and the blood streaming all over him, and he hardly able to hang on to his horse. He died a few moments later.

This regiment had about 350 casualties in the fight. Over one-third of that number were killed outright.

The contortions of one of our drum corps boys who was badly demoralized by the flying bullets, was so ludicrous that I should have laughed if I had been killed for it the next minute. Every time one of those "z-z-ping"

minies came near him he would leap in the air and then fall flat on the ground.

Was I frightened? Hold your head down so that I can whisper in your ear and I will admit in strict confidence that I was never so scared in all my life. But I felt somewhat as one of our boys expressed it when he said: "By the great horn spoons, they'll never know I'm afraid if I can help it."

While we were lying there one of the old Pennsylvania Buck Tail regiments of the Fifth Corps pa.s.sed over us to do some skirmish work. There were several of these regiments and they were famous fighters. The men all wore a buck's tail on their caps.

Late in the afternoon our regiment took part in a charge and had to go over a rail fence. Our colonel tried to have his horse jump the fence but he would not do it until one of the men took a couple of rails off the top, and then he went over. Down in a ravine he got stopped again with a vine that caught him across the breast. Col. Whistler swore like a trooper and put the spurs to him, but the vine was too strong and men had to trample it to the ground. Col. Whistler elevated himself several degrees in the estimation of his men that day by going into the battle mounted. He had been a martinet when in camp, and was of a peppery disposition. But his conduct at Spottsylvania commanded the respect of all. "I tell you,"

said one of the boys, "Jeremiah N. G. Whistler is an old fighting c.o.c.k."

"He can't forget his tactics, though," said another. "Do you mind that when we got up to make that dash through the ravine we did not get the command 'forward' until he had dressed us to the right."

The fighting continued until well into the night and when the report of the last gun died out the troops laid down on their arms until morning.

The surgeons and their helpers worked all night removing the wounded. We carried them out of the woods in blankets.

In the rear of our division there were three amputating tables with deep trenches dug at the foot. In the morning those trenches were full of amputated limbs, hands and fingers, and the piles above the ground were as high as the tables. The confederate forces withdrew from our front in the night, leaving their dead on the field, which were buried by our men as they laid away their comrades.

The clash of arms in which we had had a part was no small affair. Probably more than 40,000 men on each side had taken part in the battle, but the country was so uneven and densely wooded that a partic.i.p.ant saw but little of what was going on outside of his own regiment. In fact in almost every engagement the rank and file knew but little of the operations away from their immediate vicinity.

At our informal dress parade that night an order from Gen. Meade was read, complimenting the heavy artillery regiments for their soldierly conduct the previous day, and saying he would thereafter rely upon them as upon the tried veterans of the Second and Fifth Corps with whom we had fought our first great battle.

The day after a battle is always a sad one in a regiment. Men search for missing comrades and some are found cold in death who were full of life the day before. No jests are spoken. The terribleness of war has been forcibly impressed on all partic.i.p.ants.

The surgeon said that our colonel praised the boys for their a.s.sistance in caring for the wounded, but part of us lost our drums, as after we followed the regiment into the woods the lines were s.h.i.+fted about so that we never again saw the house where we had left them. But drums were little used the next few months. Drills, inspections, dress parades, etc., gave place to marching, fighting, digging trenches and throwing up breastworks, for we were with Gen. Grant, who proposed to "fight it out on that line if it took all summer."

CHAPTER IX.

"ON TO RICHMOND."

Gen. Grant, having decided to change his base of operations, directed Gen.

Hanc.o.c.k on the 20th to move his corps to the left as soon after dark as practicable. Gen. Horace Porter, who was one of Grant's aides, says that he purposely detached the Second Corps from the rest of the army, his object being to tempt Lee to attack them.

Of course we poor mortals in the ranks knew nothing of the plans. The privates, nor even the drummer boys, are seldom consulted in such matters.

Probably if we had been told, in our then used-up condition, that we were setting out on a march that was to last all night and through the next day we should have felt that we could never endure it.

Before starting on the march our regiment was formally a.s.signed to service with General Hanc.o.c.k the "Superb," and his Second Corps, and it has always been a pride with me that the fortunes of war cast our lot with such a matchless leader.

If in my reminiscences I seem to be partial to this organization, I hope my comrades who fought bravely under other standards will forgive me. I mean no comparison. I am speaking of my own, and should we not love our own the best?

When we started, orders were pa.s.sed through the different regiments that there must not be any talking or any unnecessary noise, and the officers took pains to impress upon us that the rebel cavalry might dash among us at any moment.

We marched for a long time down a densely wooded road. The night was a beautiful one with the moon, low in the sky, s.h.i.+ning in our faces as we plodded along the road.

NAPS ON THE MARCH.

I made the discovery that night that one could sleep walking. Don't you believe it? Ask any old soldier. But one would hardly get into a nice nap before there would be a halt away up at the head of the column and several thousand men would go b.u.mping into each other.

Then everybody would drop right down in the road and try to get a rest there, but before we could get two winks it would be "fall in, fall in, boys," and away we would go again.

A FUNNY PANIC.