USA > Connecticut > The story of the Twenty-first Regiment, Connecticut Volunteer Infantry, during the Civil War. 1861-1865 > Part 23
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Twenty-first Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.
Meantime the brigade headquarters had been moved up to the rebel Provost Marshal's office, whither a negro guided us General Roberts himself was delayed opposite Port Royal in helping off the ".Northerner," but the staff officers had full instructions, and were able to push matters in his absence. Our coming seemed to take the city by surprise, and yet some of them, after a sort, expected us, and had an idea that the move was under a flag of truce to exchange this tobacco for bacon. We were told that the rebels had, under this impression, removed the torpedocs from the river to facilitate our approach. At all events, we found the Confederate sen- try walking his beat in front of their Provost Marshal's office, and nineteen loaded muskets in the rack behind him. The sentry declared that he had no instructions different from usual, and the rest of the guard to whom the muskets be- longed had gone to supper. He was, of course, disarmed and made a prisoner, when the captured ordnance was removed to a place of safety. Likewise the Quarter-Master's office was visited, that official leaving his bed warm in his sudden flight. Such poor rations as his stock contained were given to the hungry crowd of women and negroes who accompanied us. These in turn informed us of several houses where the rebel soldiers were concealed, and ten or a dozen prisoners were thus secured.
Amongst others were two who made a stout resistance, and emptied their revolvers before yielding. One of these proved to be Sergeant Shadburne, the chief of Wade Hampton's scouts, a notorious guerilla, concerning whom General Meade telegraphed from City Point, that his capture was of more consequence than all the rest of the work done by the com- mand. While the city was thus being scoured for captives, a rattling of wheels and clattering of sabres was heard from an approaching party in the direction of Hamilton's Cross Roads, and three mule teams with a cavalry escort, drew near as the first fruits of our reconnaissance toward Richmond. Colonel Sumner's riffemen had reached the railroad bridge almost
From Fort Harrison to Fredericksburg Raid. 335
simultaneously with the expected train. The engineer, who was pushing the freight cars in front of his locomotive, hastily uncoupled his engine and steamed back whence he came, leaving the train of twenty-eight cars in our possession. Our men had cut the telegraph, burned the bridge, and taken possession of their booty.
Their capture included the Quarter-Master's wagons sent out from Fredericksburg, to transport the tobacco to the city, and into these wagons the delighted cavalrymen had tumbled a few sample bales of the best "Lynchburg smoking and chewing tobacco," worth at that time two dollars a pound in gold at Richmond. A strong picket had been left to guard the train, and the escort had come in to report for orders. Just at this opportune moment, General Roberts appeared, having brought up the "Northerner" with her one thousand men, and was very naturally full of anxiety to learn how matters stood.
At daybreak all were eager for the rest of our task. The cavalry were sent out again to the Cross Roads, where the teams were again loaded with all the tobacco they could transport, and the residue was burned. Having destroyed such Confederate property as we could not bring away, we took on board our pickets, lingered long and whistled loud for stragglers, and about sunset weighed anchor for our return.
By the morning of Wednesday, March 8th, we were thirty miles down the river, and with daylight a cloud of tobacco smoke ascended from each steamer. This was the incense of our final farewell to Fredericksburg. We reached Fortress Monroe at ten o'clock that night, and forthwith telegraphed to City Point for orders. General Grant was so gratified with the result of our raid that he forwarded permission for us to be absent a week longer, and directed us to proceed up the Coon River into the region between the Rappahannock and the Potomac, where Moseby was wintering his men and accumulating supplies, The damaged "Northerner" was re-
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placed by the " Pioneer " and the " Massachusetts," and these with the " Mathilda" were sent to Norfolk and Portsmouth to coal. We consumed three days in thus renewing our supplies, and by Saturday, the eleventh, were ready to start once more. Our little squadron steamed up the lovely Chesa- peake Bay, past the Rappahannock and the York Rivers into the mouth of the Potomac, where at dark we cast anchor off Pinley Point.
Here we were to receive fresh orders by telegraph from Grant to the naval officer on shore. * * * * In accord- ance with instructions, we started down the river at 5 A. M. the next day, and soon turned into the Wycomico Creek, where amongst the oyster beds we found an excellent landing place, and no enemy to dispute our coming ashore. Everyone was heartily glad to set foot on the wharf, and soon the column was formed for a march of discovery on land. The cavalry were sent out to find the enemy, and found him in very lively condition a few miles distant. Our horses were badly cramped, and their courage wilted by standing on deck of the transports, exposed to the cold wind and rains of the previous days, while Moseby's foragers were in splendid con- dition and spirits, and full of audacious pranks. They would ambush our troopers in the woods, and suddenly dart off after giving a volley from behind a brush heap or wood pile. At one cross roads they actually gobbled up an unwary cavalry-man and carried him off prisoner, horse and all, right under the very noses of the main body of his friends. Probably there were not fifty of the rebs, all told, but they were as spry as crickets, and were liable to appear anywhere at any moment. They seemed to enjoy the skirmish much better than did Colonel Sumner's men, and they would not wait for the infantry to come up and engage them in a square fight.
We marched about eight or nine miles towards Kinsale and ligue, burned a storehouse of bacon, a blacksmith's and cooper's shop, where rebel wagons were being manufactured,
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destroyed several granaries and cavalry sheds, and collected a large herd of cattle and sheep, besides geese, turkeys, and small poultry innumerable. * * We reached camp at dark, and for once there was no grumbling over short rations. Food was never before so gloriously abundant and varied, and fat men and lean men smiled alike with unctuous content. By the light of the blazing pitch pines, the process of reloading began at eleven o'clock, and it was not until half- past three in the morning that all were aboard, and the gun- boats began the fun of shelling the woods to cover our de- parture. This cannonade was distinctly heard at Fort Monroe, and was thought to portend a great disaster. *
* But we were quietly sleeping off our spree, as we steamed away to Point Lookout, where we proposed to take in a supply of water for the steamers.
On reaching there at daylight, however, we received orders from General Grant to proceed at once to the White House, at head waters of the Pamunkey, and there entrench, to await the arrival of Sheridan, who was coming across on his great raid from Winchester, through the Shenandoah Valley, where he had crushed General Early, and had made fearful havoc with canals, railroads, and commissary stores. He was on the north side of the Pamunkey, and Longstreet was follow- ing him down along the south bank of the river. Our mission was, therefore, to help him across at White House Landing. This was another pleasant job, on which we entered with alacrity, as a delightful alternative to the earthworks before Richmond. We set sail, therefore, at once for Yorktown, which we reached at 4 A. M. the next day.
At Yorktown we woke up the telegraph operator, and sent a dispatch reporting progress to General Grant, after which we continued up the York River to the crooked Pamunkey, and for the third time thread our tortuous way to the White House, where we drop anchor at 3 P. M. How familiar the old camp ground appeared ! There was the site of Mc- Clellan's headquarters, and the vast array of empty tin cans,
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From Fort Harrison to Fredericksburg Raid.
which former soldiers had left behind; there was the seat under the locust where Washington once courted the widow Curtis ; and there, at the end of the once beautiful avenue, was the remains of the old Curtis mansion. The charred and dismantled railroad bridge on the West Point & Richmond road, looked as natural as life, and one of our gunboats was pushed through above the bridge so as to be able to com- mand the approaches from that side toward our camp. Our troops were soon ashore, and we formed line of battle on the same spot as in June, 1864. A new and interior line of defense was hastily worked out, which our brigade could cover, while a heavy detail of skirmishers was sprinkled along the old earthworks of the peninsular campaign.
¥ * The last orders directed all to be under arms at daybreak.
Dawn never came quicker to a sound sleeper than to us on Wednesday, for the cavalry bugles blew the reveille long before any of us desired to be stirring. No signs of Long- street appeared, although, in fact, he was hovering near us, and, as he himself has acknowledged since the war was over, would have attacked us at once, if we had not guarded well against a surprise. Lieutenant-Colonel Dent, the brother-in- law and aide of General Grant, came up the river at noon with two of Sheridan's scouts, who were furnished with horses, and, dressed in rebel uniform, started out to find their commander. Colonel Sumner and his troopers were directed to return to Yorktown, and we, to wait with watchfulness till Sheridan appeared.
On Thursday, several of Sheridan's scouts came in. They were villainous looking fellows, dressed in butternut through- out, with slouched hats and the swaggering air of a horse thief. They were heavily armed, carrying two or three revolvers apiece, and were just the kind of fellows one would not rejoice to meet on a dark night and a lonely road. Their pockets seemed full of money, both gold and greenbacks, and they were plentifully furnished with watches and jewelry. The two who first arrived, after satisfying their hunger, fell to
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Twenty-first Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.
gambling at euchre with ten-dollar gold pieces for stakes. They reported Sheridan not far off, and a battle likely on the morrow. Colonel Babcock, of Grant's staff, also arrived at evening, and at his suggestion, the whole brigade was put under arms at four o'clock the next morning.
No attack came, however, but about noon General Forsythe, chief of Sheridan's staff, appeared, and a little later two wounded cavalrymen, who had been bushwhacked and mortally hurt with buckshot on the picket line, were brought in and sent on the " Metamora " to Hampton. At ten o'clock the next day General Sheridan appeared with General Merritt and their staff, and with an escort of more than a thousand contrabands, who seemed to think the millennium had dawned and freedom was now assured.
All was now bustle and excitement. The railroad bridge was planked over, and on Sunday morning the victorious troopers began to wade across. First came the gallant Custer, with his long yellow hair and his flaming red neck tie, and behind him the twenty captured flags from the Win- chester fight, and numerous trophies of the raid. Custer's subalterns followed his fashion, and sported enormous streams of red about their necks. Then came the division of Merritt and Devens, with the light batteries and the pontoon train, till the entire force of fifteen thousand splendid cavalry had filed past. Two thousand disabled horses were at once shipped to Fort Monroe, and the dismounted men were forwarded to City Point, where fresh horses awaited them. As for us, the infantry, not to be outdone, we resumed drill, and had several imposing brigade parades on Terbert's plan, with officers mounted. Sheridan witnessed and approved, and bestowed his autograph freely on any one who asked it of him.
After three days of this sport, all things were ready for the march across to the James River, and on Friday morning we started for the Chickahominy, with Wells' Cavalry Brigade as escort. The troopers cut up the roads and bridges so badly that our infantry brigade was allowed the precedence.
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From Fort Harrison to Fredericksburg Raid.
At Jones' Bridge a pontoon was laid, and the Twenty-first Connecticut was the first to cross, and formed in echelon on the heights beyond the Chickahominy, to protect the passage. By next morning the rear column was safely over, and we marched pleasantly on over ground consecrated by repeated battles and drenched with the blood-shed of the peninsular campaign. At. 2 P. M., we passed through Charles City Court House, and the roads being fine and the men marching well together with no straggling, we reached Harrison's Landing at 6 P. M., where we occupied an old camp ground, literally swarming with rabbits. To Jack, the black and tan - terrier at headquarters, this was the most exciting part of the journey, as he had all the live rabbit he could assist in slaying. Here was more fresh meat for supper, and the men were so amiable as not to growl at moving on to accommodate Custer's brigade. Our day's travel had been twelve miles.
At six the next morning we were in marching order, but waited four weary hours for the cavalry to file past, since it was our turn to be rear guard. Passed over Malvern Hill, where the mad Magruder once lost the flower of Lee's army in a reckless assault, and pushing close on after the troopers, ive reached Deep Bottom at dark, and entered our old line at Spring Hill.
So ended our laik, and the Fredericksburg Raid with its sequel at the White House, forms one of our pleasantest memories of the war.
A final consequence deserves to be mentioned ere we close. Sheridan, on leaving us, went to the extreme left of the armies before Richmond, and a few days later at Five Forks succeeded in turning the Confederate right and starting Lee out of his stronghold. In consequence of our recent journey, many of the men being footsore, our division was chosen to occupy the entrenchments, while the rest of the corps marched off toward Farmville in pursuit of Lee. Hence to us fell the privilege of first entering Richmond, and of occupying the rebel capital for many weeks thereafter. We
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Twenty-first Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.
had fought in the trenches and in the open fields before it, long enough to be worthy of the honor, even if we at last entered its streets without firing a gun. There was no unfair- ness in the order which permitted our division to inscribe Richmond on their banners.
To the old Twenty-first Connecticut, the word Fredericks- burg has two-fold associations. The first memories are terrible. They suggest that fearful and useless slaughter on the plain in front of Marye's Heights in 1862, when our regi- ment, by the interval of one brigade only, escaped the fatal orders to charge and be cut to pieces. The indiscriminate huddle of thousands in the streets of Fredericksburg, on the night after that battle under Burnside, is a pleasant memory, only, that it stirs gratitude that any of our soldiers escaped. Stonewall Jackson is said to have urged that all the rebel batteries open that night and pour their shell into the city, where it was known that our men were massed in confusion. But Lee, supposing that none could escape before daylight, shrank from the terrible slaughter of this cannonade. The following morning revealed the Federal army safely across their pontoons at Falmouth.
Between December 16, 1862, and March 6th, 1865, we passed through many perils and many pleasures. But the last visit to Fredericksburg was surely the best which war could do to obliterate the memory of its own horrors. As on that latter visit, we strolled out to the sunken road at the foot of the Convent Heights, and realized for the first time how in that road, behind the face wall, the enemy without danger to themselves could shoot down our men like bul- locks, and then glanced up the terraced hillside, where row after row of musketeers poured down their plunging fire on our advance, and noted the mounds on the plain where our dead were buried as they fell, we felt grateful that the fury of the war was so nearly spent, and that we were so far away from the charging and countercharging at Richmond.
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From. Fort Harrison to Fredericksburg Landing.
We may rejoice to-day not only that our last visit to Fredericksburg was bloodless, and our last memories of it ludicrous instead of ghastly, but also we may give thanks that no marching orders will take us there again. For though times of war make heroes, yet times of peace are better still.
"Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments,
Our stern alarms changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures,
Grim visaged war, for us hath smoothed his wrinkled front."
HEADQUARTERS TWENTY-FIRST CONNECTICUT VOLUNTEERS,
Near Fredericksburg, Vz., December, 16, 1862.
SIR -- I forward herewith a list of casualties in this regiment in the battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862 :
A number are reported missing, but they could not have fallen into the hands of the enemy, and it is presumed they will turn up now that the danger is apparently over.
It is my duty and pleasure to testify to the gallantry, coolness, and enthusiasm displayed by the regiment during the time it was under fire, and to the fortitude and alacrity with which they fulfilled every duty required of them during four days of excitement, danger, and suffering. The officers in particular have, without exception, shown themselves well worthy of the trust reposed in them.
List of casualties in the regiment in the battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862 :
Wounded -- Lieutenant and Adjutant Clarence E. Dutton, in body, slightly; Private D. S. Hawkins, Company A, in head, slightly ; Corporal Frank Hough, Company C, in leg, slightly ;
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Twenty-first Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.
Privates John Fitzgerald, Company H, in breast, dangerously ; Charles W. Prentiss, Company I, in head, seriously ; Joseph H. Daniels, Company I, in leg, slightly. I am, sir, Yours, very respectfully, A. H. DUTTON, Colonel Commanding.
To the Adjutant-General.
Captain William Spittle, of the Twenty-first, is at his home in New London, sick .- From New London Day, December, 1862.
REBEL SCOUTS.
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Bermuda Hundred.
CHAPTER XX.
BERMUDA HUNDRED.
(December, 1864.)
After the battle of July 30th, the regiment resumed its old place in the trenches on the right of the line at Petersburg, and everything about us resumed its usual quiet. The days became hotter still, and the pits more sultry, till August 15th, when a heavy shower of rain cooled the air, but as though the fates were resolved to make it unpleasant for us, we were as much troubled with the mud as we had been with the heat. An outsider, unacquainted with our war-like character, might easily have taken us all for brick-makers, so completely were we plastered with the "sacred soil of Virginia." However, after two or three days' scrubbing and scraping, we contrived to get the outer coating off, with which we felt quite well satisfied.
The 18th of August dawned upon us, dark and lowering ; fit surrounding for the sad tragedy which then deprived us of another of our gallant officers. "A curse upon the traitor who fired that shot," echoed many a heart, when Captain Kenyon's breast received the fatal ball. We bore him from the field. Every possible care and attention was bestowed, but all in vain. The thread of life was snapped asunder, and
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Twenty-first Regiment Connecticut Volunteers.
after lingering two weeks, he slept the sleep which knoweth no waking, and our list of martyrs received one more honored name.
Fatigue and exposure still told fearfully upon the regiment, so that we now frequently had but few over a hundred men for duty, and often but three officers. And at this time we remained in the pits for eleven days in succession without relief; and a part of the time the mud was up to our knees. The writer occasionally casts a sly glance with his mind's eye, back to a certain spot where lie entombed (he would not dare say how deep), a pair of " Uncle Sam's Pontoons," sacrificed to the tenacious hold of the "sacred soil." Poor old pon- toons ! Calm and peaceful be your iest, until the war is ended, and the sword transformed into the ploughshare, when some fortunate swain, striking deep with his plough, lustily endeavoring to reclaim the barren tract from the desolation of war, may disturb your sweet repose, and wake you to useful- ness again.
At last, however, the welcome news reached us that we were to be relieved. And with lighter hearts than we had enjoyed for many a day, we bade a glad farewell to Peters- burg the evening of August 26th, and the next morning at daylight, after a tedious march nearly the whole night, found ourselves behind Butler's entrenchments at Bermuda Hun- dred. Here we went into camp, and free from the continual whizzing of minie balls and the shriek of bursting shells, we straightened our backs once more, inhaled deep draughts of the pure air, and wandered leisurely about with none to molest or make us afraid. The relief from the extreme fatigue we had undergone was great. And our thinned ranks soon began to fill, and those of us who had weathered the storm, felt new life and vigor coursing through our veins. Thus passed the time with nothing of moment to relate, till September 28th, when just at dark we received orders to be ready to move " in light marching order," and at nine o'clock were on our way.
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Everyone was on the qui vire to know our destination. But that was not given us to know till we reached it. Yet I think the regiment never started off in better spirits or fight- ing trim. We marched that evening to Aikens' Landing, on the James, where we crossed on a pontoon bridge laid during the night, threw out our skirmishers in advance, and just as the gray streaks of dawn crept up the eastern sky, by bri- gades in column, the gallant First Division of the Eighteenth Corps swept up the hill, which brought them in contact with the enemy's skirmishers. These, however, were pressed steadily back about four miles, to their main line of works thrown up along the crest of a hill, a strong position by nature, where they had a large, square fort mounting about eight guns, and surrounded by a ditch ten feet deep, with perpendicular sides. From this on either side, stretched a heavy rifle pit, intersected with small redoubts, mounting one or two guns, and which enfiladed our approach in every direction. . .
Just before our line of battle was formed, seven companies of the regiment, with our commanding officer, then Captain, now' Lieutenant-Colonel J. F. Brown, were sent out as skir- mishers on the left of the line, where gallantly led by Captain Brown, they pressed the enemy back in the face of a heavy fire even to their stronghold. The remaining three companies, with our colors, kept on with the column. Soon we saw the black mouths of the enemy's guns frowning upon us from the crest of the hill. But without halting to look around us, or to give the enemy time to concentrate, one regiment was immediately deployed in line of battle, and closely followed by the rest of the brigade, dashed over the field. It was a fearful distance, and the white clouds of smoke from that frowning crest as the iron demons belched forth their destruc- tion upon our advancing column, with the sure promise they gave of the death messenger, were well calculated to strike terror to the stoutest heart. But steadily that little band pushed on, unterrified, undismayed by the pitiless storm, till
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