Three Years in the Sixth Corps Part 17

It was a novel sight. An army bathing. A brigade of nine months Vermont troops, had been stationed here during the winter. They were full regiments, never thinned by exhausting labors, hard campaigns or the trying ordeal of battle. They now bade farewell to their comfortable quarters and picket duty, and joined the Grand Army on a real campaign.

Although we had already made a long march, at four o'clock we were again on the road, and before dark we reached Fairfax Station, six miles from Wolf Run Shoals. This was a more cheerful march than the others. The men, refreshed by their bath, and strengthened by a good dinner and two hours' rest, now went shouting, singing and laughing, as though marching was but play.

This day we heard that some part of Lee's army was in Pennsylvania! The men were as anxious to go forward as were their commanders. The corps bivouacked in groves on the turnpike, which led from Fairfax to Mana.s.sas, resting for the night and the following day. Here our train underwent a process of purging. Needless articles, and many useful ones, which could be disposed of, were sent to the rear. The trains were to go with smaller loads, and many teams were to be taken from them.

We had marched, since setting out from before Fredericksburgh, through a country, well enough by nature, but neglected, barren and depopulated.

How large a portion of this great State was in this sad condition? Its naturally rich fields were grown up to scrub pines, mugworts and wormwood. Its fair valleys desolate of inhabitants, or inhabited by low white trash, as idle as ignorant. The groves and fields where we now rested were pleasant for a bivouac, but the fields were waste land, and the oak timber was all that seemed of any value, as far as we could see.

Yet we were now within a few miles of Washington, where articles of food brought fabulous prices, and wood could scarcely be procured. Why were these fine lands desolate? Was it because agriculture was unprofitable?

Surely, with Washington and Alexandria so near, and Baltimore at a short distance farther, there should be a good market for produce. Was it because the war had put a stop to agricultural pursuits? The scrub pines and dwarf oaks growing upon deserted tobacco fields, where the ridges were still plainly visible, showed that before the war indolence prevailed.

At five o'clock on the morning of June 19th, we were again on the march, reaching Fairfax Court House before noon. Again our train was overhauled, baggage reduced, and teams sent to the rear. By this time the train began to a.s.sume more reasonable dimensions. General officers were strictly forbidden the use of ambulances, henceforth all ambulances were to be used for their legitimate purposes, and general officers and their staffs were to get along with a more reasonable amount of baggage, while regimental officers were to be allowed only the most limited amount of transportation. A single small valise only was the extent of baggage for each regimental officer, and a mess chest of the size of a cracker box, was to be the allowance for all officers of a single company.

About Fairfax Court House was stationed a division of cavalry and some infantry, under the command of General Stahl. These troops, like the brigade of Vermont troops, had been employed in guarding the country against the inroads of guerilla bands. These were now also to join the Army of the Potomac, and their gallant conduct at Falling Waters, a few days after, showed them to be composed of the best material.

General Hooker, unwilling to favor General Lee, by uncovering the capital, and wisely judging of his wary enemy's motives, instead of pushing rapidly forward to Maryland, as Lee desired, threw the different corps into positions, which should at once be favorable for watching his movements, and resisting any attack. Accordingly, our own corps, turning partly back from our line of march, on the 20th, marched towards Bristow Station.

We pa.s.sed through Centreville, its powerful forts and redoubts garrisoned by large regiments of men, who wore bright new uniforms, and whose officers had red tufts upon their caps. These new uniforms were soon to be as grimy and dusty as those of the veterans, at whom they now gazed with so much interest, and the full regiments were soon to find their ranks thinned by the same terrible process which had made those pa.s.sing by them only fragments of regiments.

The works about Centreville were of most powerful character, having been made even stronger than at the last battle of Bull Run. In the forts and redoubts upon the commanding positions, was mounted heavy artillery, and the long lines of trenches and breastworks, stretching far to the flanks, and commanding declivities where musketry and artillery could sweep an advancing force with terrible effect, rendered the position impregnable from any direct a.s.sault. The few dilapidated houses still remaining to mark the site of the village, presented a forlorn and pitiful appearance. Deserted by their owners, occupied as stables and storehouses some of them falling in ruins, and all dirty and dilapidated, they were a mournful commentary on the ruthless destruction which follows in the footsteps of war. Still further on, our route led us along the Mana.s.sas Gap railroad. Here were more sad pictures of the havoc of war. The track was torn up, the ties burnt. Every now and then, numbers of car wheels and axles, iron bands and braces, couplings and reaches, showed where whole trains had been burned.

Here and there, the incombustible materials among the debris showed the lading of particular cars. The remains of fruit cans, tin plates, blacking boxes and gla.s.sware, told of sutlers who had disposed of their wares at less than the usual exorbitant prices. Heaps of spikes and handleless hammers, and iron bars, reminded us of disconcerted plans in railroad extension, while numberless solid shot, bullets and fragments of sh.e.l.ls, showed where car loads of ammunition had been consumed in harmless explosions.

At length, after a hard day's march, we arrived at Bristow Station, where the corps turned into the fields and bivouacked.

The tower and wind-mill which had been used for raising water to the tank, remained alone to show where the station had been; all the other buildings being destroyed, except where still remained the dismantled ruins of what had once been a hotel.

Here, as for miles back on the road, were the remains of ruined cars and their contents.

The surrounding country was delightful. A mile or two south of us was a little church in the midst of an oak grove. It is an agreeable peculiarity with the southern people, that they are accustomed to locate their country churches in the midst of pleasant groves, sometimes at a distance from any residence. In this respect, they certainly exhibit better taste than the people of most of our northern States, who have such a propensity for setting the church on the summit of some high hill where not a tree or shrub adorns the grounds, and the aspiring steeple seems, like Babel, to be striving vainly to reach the heavens.

On the morning after our arrival here, we heard the sounds of cannonading not far off, and learned that the cavalry under General Pleasanton were hotly engaged at Aldee and Upperville, with Stuart's rebel cavalry, and that our forces were getting the best of the desperate encounter, winning laurels for themselves and gaining another of that series of victories which was destined to remove the derision in which that arm of the service had been held, not from any previous want of good fighting qualities on the part of our cavalry. General Pleasanton had attacked Stuart's forces near Middleburgh, driving the rebels in confusion through Upperville to Ashby's Gap, taking some pieces of artillery and a large number of prisoners. General Kilpatrick, in this engagement, had exhibited fighting qualities of the first order, riding in front of the men and leading the way when they hesitated. His gallant conduct inspired for him the confidence and admiration of his men. It was the commencement of a brilliant career which made him one of the first cavalry commanders in the army. His dashing ride from the Peninsula to Fredericksburgh, with but a handful of men, eluding the watchfulness of the wily Stuart, had already established his talent for bold adventure, and his conduct on this occasion proved his personal bravery. These are the two great qualities needed for a cavalry officer, and Kilpatrick's name at once became a tower of strength among his men.

In this pleasant locality the corps remained, an outpost for the army, guarding the pa.s.ses from the Shenandoah, for five days. The weather was delightful, and the men enjoyed, to the utmost, the needed rest. They lounged in the shade of their tents or in the neighboring groves, or strolled along the railroad track, examining curiously the ruined remains of the trains. In a delightful spot at a distance from the camps, almost surrounded by a grove of oak trees, the hospital tents of our Second division were erected. To this quiet and lovely spot, where cool breezes always played, were brought the sick and weary, and carefully nursed.

But General Lee despaired of inducing General Hooker to uncover the capital, so, leaving Virginia with his whole army, he pushed toward Pennsylvania, determined at least to draw our army as far away from Washington as possible, and to reap rich harvests of spoils among the overflowing granaries of the Keystone State. No sooner had the movement of the main body of Lee's army into Maryland commenced, than General Hooker, with his forces, commenced the pursuit.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE GETTYSBURGH CAMPAIGN.

The rebels in Pennsylvania--Panic at Harrisburgh--Alarm at Baltimore and Washington--Sixth corps leaves Bristow Station--A surprise--General Meade takes command--Position of the army--Marching through Pennsylvania--An unprecedented march--Exciting news--Battle of Gettysburgh--Death of Reynolds--First and Eleventh corps fall back--Second day's battle--The battle-field--Fighting at Round Top--On the right--The grand onset--The battle decided--Rebel and Union wounded.

Meanwhile, great excitement prevailed at the north, especially in Maryland and Pennsylvania, on account of the invasion of the rebel army.

As early as the 15th of the month, more than a thousand rebel cavalry had reached Chambersburgh, which they had sacked. Two days before, the battle of Winchester was closed. Ewell, with overwhelming numbers had fallen upon General Milroy's force, which had unwisely been, by order of somebody, thrust far away from its base, and out of the reach of reinforcements, routing the division, and in its flight capturing its artillery and a large portion of the infantry.

Nothing now opposed the march of the invaders through the Shenandoah Valley. In Harrisburgh, the excitement rose almost to a panic. All the paintings, books, papers, and other valuable articles, were removed from the capitol, packed in boxes and loaded into cars, ready to be sent off at the first sign of immediate danger. The citizens formed themselves into military companies, and worked day and night throwing up redoubts and rifle pits about the city. Men unaccustomed to manual labor vigorously plied the pick and the spade, and kept up their unwonted toil with an earnestness worthy of veteran soldiers. To add to this confusion and alarm, the trains of Milroy's division that had escaped capture were rattling through the streets in search of a resting place. Throughout the State of Pennsylvania business was suspended. The governor was calling loudly for men to rush to arms in defense of their homes; and General Couch was striving to organize the militia which presented itself.

Baltimore and Washington were like besieged cities. Stuart was threatening the Baltimore and Ohio road, and bodies of rebel cavalry had penetrated within half a dozen miles of Washington. Bells rung out the alarm, and the affrighted citizens rushed to arms. Loyal leagues were now of service, forming the nucleus of many an improvised company of defenders. All these facts we learned from the newspapers, a few stray copies of which fell within the path of the army, and from the highly colored accounts of citizens, who, with expressions of the utmost alarm and anxiety, related what they had heard or seen.

On the night of the 26th of June, the Sixth corps left Bristow Station.

The darkness was intense, and a drizzling rain rendered marching disagreeable. The march was rapid, and some of the men fell behind, and were next day collected and marched off to Richmond, by the guerilla parties that constantly hung upon our flanks and rear. Before daylight we halted at Centreville. The men threw themselves upon the wet ground, and slept for two hours, while the rain beat upon them. Then, at six o'clock, they were again roused, by the order to be ready to move at once. While taking our coffee, and waiting for the final order to march, some villain, belonging to the troops stationed at Centreville, set fire to the little Episcopal chapel that stood not far from us, and was the only building remaining in the little village which pretended to any appearance of modern architecture. Those vandals who follow an army, bent on nothing but destruction, are among the unavoidable evils of war, and even the most severe discipline is insufficient to effectually arrest all mischief of the kind.

Our march was a severe one for men who had been on the road all night, and the men were glad when we bivouacked a little before dark, in a beautiful oak grove near Drainsville. Very early next morning, descending into the lovely valley of the Potomac, we reached Edwards'

Ferry, where troops were crossing; after a delay of one or two hours, waiting for troops of another corps to cross the pontoon bridge, we followed, and were in Maryland again. All day long troops were pa.s.sing over the bridges and taking their positions upon the neighboring hills, ready for starting anew in the morning; for nearly the whole army was crossing at this point, and as the process was necessarily slow, those who went over first waited for those behind.

On Sunday, we left Edwards' Ferry; marched through Poolesville and Barnstown to Hyattstown. A halt was made at Barnstown for dinner, and the Sixth corps left the road and occupied a pleasant valley, where the chestnut trees afforded a grateful shade for the men. They had just unslung knapsacks, when we were all startled by the sound of a church bell, which seemed in our midst. The boys gazed for a moment in mute astonishment in the direction from which the sound came, when they discovered at a short distance from them, a little church half hidden among the trees, and the parishioners gathering for service. When the first surprise was over, the word pa.s.sed from one to another, "It is Sunday!" "It is Sunday!" and they set up a shout that demonstrated that they had not forgotten to love the inst.i.tutions of civilization, even after so long an absence from a civilized country. Few who were present at this time, will ever forget the thrill of pleasurable surprise which we all experienced at hearing once more the sounds which so forcibly reminded us of home.

Some of the men attended the service. It was a Catholic church, a small edifice which had once been white, but, by the action of the weather for many years, it had now become brown. The seats and altar had never been painted, and the plaster of the inner wall had, in places, fallen from the lath. The parishioners seemed quite devout people, and the pastor a sincere man. In his prayers he remembered the President and the government, and he supplicated for peace. The reverend father said that, owing to the confusion in town, there would be no sermon, but he wished the good people to pray for sister A., who was at the point of death, and for the repose of the soul of brother B., who was already dead. Some of our officers engaged in a pleasant conversation with the pastor after service. He was an agreeable, shrewd man, and professed to be a good Unionist.

It was at Hyattstown that we first learned that General Hooker had been superseded, in the command of the army, by General George B. Meade. The announcement of this unexpected change at such a time, was received with astonishment, and by many with indignation. To deprive the leader of a great army of his command just upon the eve of a great battle, when, by the most brilliant marches and masterly strategy, he had thrown this army face to face with his enemy, thwarting his designs of moving upon the capital, without some offense of a grave character, was an act unheard of before in the history of warfare. It seemed, from later information regarding this extraordinary measure, that a difference had arisen between General Hooker and his superior at Washington in regard to the disposition of troops at Harper's Ferry, and that, each refusing to surrender his opinion, General Hooker was relieved. His successor demanded the same disposition on the very next day, and it was granted!

The army was not dissatisfied with the appointment of General Meade; the soldiers would as readily fight under Meade as under Hooker. They were anxious to retrieve what had been lost at Chancellorsville, and would have been glad could General Hooker have shared in the victory which they believed they were about to achieve; but the men of the Union army fought for their country and not for their leaders. So they at once transferred their hopes and their obedience to the new commander.

General Meade was well known to the army as a good soldier, the brave general who had, with his single division, dashed upon the rebels at the first Fredericksburgh, and as the leader of a corps which behaved gallantly at Chancellorsville. All were willing to try him, and hoped for the best.

The movement from Fredericksburgh had been conducted with consummate skill and energy, and now the army was moving in several columns by roads nearly parallel, with the twofold object of greater rapidity of movement, and of sweeping a greater extent of country.

The Sixth corps was now upon the extreme right, marching toward Manchester; next, on our left, was the Twelfth corps, at Taneytown, a little hamlet named in honor of the chief justice of the United States, whose residence was there. At a point a dozen miles north and west of us, was the head-quarters of the army, and the Second and Third Corps.

Further to the left, at Emmitsburgh, were the First, Fifth and Eleventh corps. Upon either flank of this line, extending twenty miles, was cavalry. Thus the army was guarding a great extent of country, at the same time that the different corps were within supporting distance of each other.

The rebel army under General Lee, one hundred thousand strong, occupied an equally extended line to the north and west of us, stretching from Harrisburgh through Chambersburgh and Cashtown.

At five o'clock, Monday morning, 28th, the corps marched again, pa.s.sing through Monroville, New Market, Ridgeville and Mount Airy Station, halting for the night at Sam's creek. As the corps pa.s.sed through Westminster on the following day, the people welcomed us with demonstrations of joy, which were all the more earnest, as the rebel cavalry had, but two hours before, taken a hasty leave of them. At night we were at Manchester, at least twenty miles from the left of the army, and between the line of march of the enemy and Baltimore. We rested here until evening of the next day. The plot was thickening, and the hostile forces were moving cautiously, each watching the movements of the other, and each ready to seize any opportunity for rushing upon its enemy to destroy it. Thus far our marches had been of most fatiguing character.

We had, in the last four days, pa.s.sed over one hundred miles of road. It is to be remembered that these marches were made under burning suns, and that each soldier carried with him his gun, knapsack, haversack, containing five days' provisions, and forty rounds of cartridges. The men had kept up wonderfully during this trying campaign, but the great march of all, in which this magnificent corps was to outdo all that was ever recorded of wonderful marches, was yet in store for it.

We waited at Manchester until evening. The inhabitants were well supplied with rye whisky, and it must be confessed that soldiers have a way of finding out the existence of that luxury, and of supplying themselves with it; and as the men of the old Sixth corps were in no respect behind their comrades of the other corps, many of our brave fellows became, long before dark, considerably inebriated.

At nine o'clock in the evening of the 1st of July, we were on the road, but it was eleven before we were fairly under headway. Those who during the day had indulged so freely in the rye whisky of the farmers, as to disable them from marching or even standing in line, were quietly thrown into the clumps of bushes by the roadside, and left to be gathered up by cavalry squads that were scouring the country for stragglers. Those that were left by our own provost-guards were picked up by rebel scouts.

The column now pushed rapidly on; all night the weary march was kept up.

A halt of ten minutes for breakfast, and then on again. Now we heard that a part of the army, the First corps, had already engaged the enemy at Gettysburgh, with doubtful issue, and that its commander, General Reynolds, was killed.

New ardor was now kindled in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the men of the Sixth corps at these tidings, and they pressed forward at a pace unusual, even for them. The day was bright, the sun pouring scalding rays from a cloudless sky. The men strove hard to keep in the ranks, for few in that corps were willing to be left behind in a fight.

Yet some gave out from exhaustion, but even these, at a slower pace, followed the rapidly moving column.

At the houses on the roadsides, the citizens, their wives and daughters, were bringing water, from which the soldiers filled their canteens as they pa.s.sed. At Littletown we saw citizens bringing the wounded from the field in their carriages, and many wounded soldiers who could walk were making their way to the village. The marching was more rapid. Our friends were waiting for us. Soon we saw above the valley that lay before us, clouds of smoke and the white puffs of bursting sh.e.l.ls. As yet we could distinguish little of the sound of battle, but those small fleecy clouds which appeared so suddenly, flashing forked lightning, told us of work ahead. It was five o'clock when the Sixth corps arrived on the battle-field, having made an unprecedented march of thirty-four miles! We halted in reserve, not to rest, but to wait a few moments until our place should be a.s.signed us in front. We had more marching to do! Four miles more of marching and countermarching that night, made thirty-eight miles in a single day. Such marching as had been done by the Sixth corps since leaving Bristow Station, is unparalleled in the history of armies.

The roar of battle was terrific. On our left, where rose a hill covered with timber on the top and side, a fearful struggle seemed in progress, and the roll of musketry and the rapid discharge of artillery was almost deafening.

Let us now turn back and review the operations of the First and the Eleventh corps since yesterday morning. We give it as it was related to us by members of the First and Eleventh corps. General Buford, commanding the cavalry on the left flank of the army, had advanced north of the town of Gettysburgh, and had fallen in with large bodies of cavalry, supported by infantry. He became hotly engaged with this force, and at once reported the information to General Meade that he had found the enemy in large force. General Reynolds, who, with the First corps had by this time reached Marsh creek, within easy striking distance of Gettysburgh, was directed to urge his troops forward to Gettysburgh as rapidly as possible. The corps pushed on, and reaching Gettysburgh, filed through the town, leaving it to the rear. General Buford was found fiercely struggling to maintain his position against the infantry of the enemy. At once, General Reynolds proceeded to select a position for his line of battle. Without a moment's hesitation, the corps was deployed; the division of Wadsworth, leading the van, was in position; a battery which had been brought to the front was slowly forced back, but the gallant Wadsworth, bringing more infantry into line, arrested the retreat, and in turn forced back the hostile forces, who were now found to be in large numbers. It was at this time that General Reynolds, riding forward with a few members of his staff, to inspect the field with the view of bringing the rest of his troops into favorable position, was shot through the neck, the enemy having, at the moment, opened a full volley of musketry. The n.o.ble commander, feeling the wound, turned to his soldiers and shouted, "Forward men! for G.o.d's sake, forward!" and fell, dying, into the arms of one of his companions.

This sad loss only fired the hearts of the soldiers to more desperate determination, and they rushed into line upon the run, burning to avenge their beloved leader. General Doubleday, of the Second division of the corps, was next in rank, and took command. The encounter was sharp, and the rebels were giving way. Three hundred prisoners were brought in, and the corps was put into position to hold its ground. The force of the enemy now engaged, proved to be the corps of General A. P. Hill, and the prisoners declared that the rest of the confederate army was close at hand. A column of the enemy now moved toward the left of our line, debouching from a piece of woods, and occupying a close proximity to our forces. Volley after volley was poured into the advancing column, without avail, except to stretch many of its men upon the ground, wounded and dying.

At length the brigades of Doubleday's own division were ordered to charge upon the obstinate line. They obeyed with alacrity, their cheers and shouts ringing above the roar of musketry. The rebels gave way before this impetuous charge, and several hundred more prisoners were brought in.

Thus far the First corps was victorious, but its ranks were becoming terribly thinned.