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M. L
REYNOLDS HISTORICAL GENEALOGY COLLECTION
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ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 3 1833 01083 8925
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The Sword of Honor
A Story of the Civil War by Lieut.
H. A. Johnson, Third Maine Regiment, N.V. M.
"I came not to send peace but a sword." "And they shall beat their swords into plow- shares, and their spears into pruning-books."
Hallowell, Maine Register Printing House 1906 '
COPYRIGHT HOS SY HI A. JOHNSON
Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012
http://archive.org/details/swordofhonorstor00john
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THE SWORD OF HONOR.
CHAPTER I.
A FTER two years of war commencing with the first battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861, my regi- ment, the Third Maine Infantry, in June 1863, was on its way with the Army of the Potomac to the- field of Gettysburg.
The preceding two years had not been uneventful nor inactive on the part of our command, for we had been at Yorktown on the Peninsula under Mcclellan, facing rebel works much too long for the credit of our army or its commander. The force of the Con- federate army under Magruder was far too small to have delayed the Army of the Potomac thirty days before Yorktown. After the evacuation of the rebel works by the Confederates (May 3), we fought the battle of Williamsburg, closely followed by Seven Pines and Fair Oaks, (May 31 and June 1), and after remaining in front of Richmond until late in June, the Potomac army entered upon its series of engage- ments called the Seven Days' Battles before Rich- mond, commencing with Mechanicsville.
A month had passed since the battle of Fair Oaks, with Mcclellan lying inactive along the line of the
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Chickahominy, and our army thinning out by malari- ous fevers from the swamps, while the Confederate army was being reinforced by Jackson's Corps from the valley, and was reaping the full benefit. of the new conscription act.
This was the condition of the two armies when the battle of Mechanicsville was fought June 25, fol- lowed by daily battles in rapid succession in this order: Gaines' Mills, Savage Station, White Oak Swamp, Glendale, Frazier's Farm, and Malvern Hill. The order was fight all day and retreat at night, our objective point being Harrison's Landing on the James River, where we arrived July 3, a tired, weary, but not whipped or discouraged army.
The object of this narrative is not to tell how battles were fought or victories won; not to write a history of the War of the Rebellion with which we are all familar, but simply to mention the engagements in which the Third Maine Regiment was actively concerned; to relate personal experiences within the enemy's lines and to give an idea of life in the Confederate prisons.
The news of the bombardment of Fort Sumpter (April 12, '61), sent a thrill of outraged patriotism throughout the entire North, and roused to action every loyal citizen. I was at that time at work in a dry goods store in Hallowell, Maine, and decided to enlist in the Union service, to do my part in trying to
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suppress the Rebellion. I was 19 years of age and weighed 112 pounds, certainly not a very promising subject for Uncle Sam's Uniform. Nevertheless, I determined to enlist. My brother, Captain Gorham Johnson, was recruiting a company for the "Third Maine Infantry." I applied to him for admission, but was promptly rejected without examination, Cap- tain Johnson giving as a reason that I was physically unfit for the life of a soldier.
Nothing daunted, I next made application to Capt. Henry G. Staples, Co. B., who was recruiting in Augusta. He too turned me down, assuring me that "he did not want me." Instead of being discouraged by these repulses, I was all the more determined to enlist, and to enlist in the Third Maine Infantry, as the regiment was to be formed of companies from the Kennebec Valley. So I applied to the Adjutant General of the state, and even he tried to discourage me, but at last gave a written permit for Capt. Staples to enroll me among his men. With this document I did not apply in vain, and was at once enlisted as a high private in Co. B.
Now comes the singular sequel of this hasty opinion of what a person can do as judged by the looks of his physical make-up; for when our regiment arrived at Harrison's Landing, July 3, after our 13 months' service and three months in the swamps of the Chick- ahominy, marching, fighting, retreating, and endur-
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ing everything that was rough and tough in a soldier's life in the field, this brother of mine, Captain of Co. E, was taken on a stretcher on board the hospital ship lying in the James River. He was a physical wreck from the exposure and hardships of a soldier's life; while I, his rejected brother, had not up to that hour seen a day of sickness, or answered a doctor's call, or taken a blue pill, or had my tongue examined by our regimental surgeon or his officious hospital steward. In less than six months from this date, I saw leave the army my colonel, former captain of my company, the same man who refused to accept me as a soldier until I brought him the order from Gen. Hodgson; he and my brother were both obliged to resign their commissions on account of severe and prolonged sickness.
August 23, the army of the Potomac commenced its retrograde step down the Peninsula, and on August 29, we found ourselves facing the army of Northern Virginia on the battle ground of 13 months before, the 1st Bull Run, and under a new commander; for McClellan had been removed and succeeded by Pope.
August 29 and 30, we fought the battle of Second Manassas, and September 1, that of Chantilly, at which engagement we lost the bravest of the brave, our Division General, Phil Kearney. September 17, the battle of Antietam was fought on Maryland soil, the only engagement of any magnitude our command
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ever escaped; we were doing guard duty on the upper Potomac at the time.
Our next encounter with the enemy was at disas- trous Fredericksburg, December 11, 12 and 13, under Burnside; and again on January 20, under the same general, we participated in the movement on Fredericksburg called the Mud March, abandon- ing which we returned to camp, and remained until May 1, when under fighting Joe Hooker who had succeeded Burnside in the command of the army of the Potomac, we fought the battle of Chancellors- ville where our regiment lost heavily: among the number my First Lieutenant, Warren Cox. As he was the only commissioned officer present for duty, I as First Sergeant of the company, took command after his death and held it until the campaign was over.
June 11, we broke camp and started on the Penn- sylvania campaign. On our way to Gettysburg, at Gum Springs, we lost four lieutenants from Com- panies HI, I, F, who while breakfasting at a farm- house about one mile from our marching column were captured by the guerilla Mosby. I mention these four lieutenants as I shall have much to do with two of them before I leave the army.
July 1 finds the 3rd corps, of which our regiment was a part, on the field of Gettysburg, arrived too late to take part in the action of the first day, but carly
-
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enough to find the situation anything but promising. But a very small portion of the Union forces had been engaged in this first day's encounter, as the main army had not arrived; the only forces engaged being por- tions of the 1st and 11th army corps. The early death of Gen. Reynolds, with the subsequent repulse ot the Federal Army and the abandonment of Semin- ary Ridge and occupation of Cemetery Hill by the Federals, also the occupation of Gettysburg town by the Confederates after a battle of seven hours, were events not at all encouraging, although our troops were outnumbered more than four to one during the entire day's conflict.
After the death of Reynolds, the command de- volved on Major Gen. O. O. Howard, who by the way was the First Colonel of our Third Maine and fought with us at First Bull Run, but was soon after rapidly promoted, and in 1890 was the second rank- ing officer in the United States Army. These two small corps of the Federal Army, numbering not more tban 10,000 men, were pitted against the divisions of Heath, Rhodes, Early and Pender, full 40,000 men, and the remainder of the Confederate army in supporting distance.
During the night both armies received heavy rein- forcements, and as the Third Sickles corps was on the extreme left of the Union lines and supposed to be facing the right of the Confederate army, it was of
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the utmost importance to locate the Confederate posi- tion. Our regiment was posted in Peach Orchard, then unknown to history, when on the early morn- ing of July 2, our command, numbering only 196 rifles with 100 United States sharp-shooters, was ordered by Gen. Sickles to reconnoitre and find the position of the enemy.
At the word "forward" we advanced, and for half a mile outside onr lines pierced the enemy's territory, when a dense wood obstructed our front. We then advanced one fourth of a mile through these woods, when our skirmishers became hotly engaged, driv- ing the enemy's skirmishers and pickets before us. We soon engaged the enemy in force; they com- menced to take us on the flank as well as front, attempting to cut us off from our line of retreat. We engaged this body of Confederates for thirty minutes, though the odds were thousands, and when the bugle called the retreat we fought our way back foot by toot. We had nearly reached the open ground, fight- ing step by step, when Nathan Call, one of my men who had fought by my side for two long years fell with a musket ball through his hip, and as he dropped cried out: "Sergeant, don't desert me. Help me out of these woods." . Another of our company, John W. Jones, noble fellow that he was, came to my assist- ance; we seated the wounded man across a musket, and with his arms around our necks, the bullets flying
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.
about us, and with the exultant rebs at our heels, twenty to our one, we were making slow but sure progress, when Jones dropped his end of the musket and fell dead, shot through the head. Before I could recover, get Call's arms from around me and escape, for I could not think of trying to assist him farther alone, the Johnnies were on top and around us and . we all three were prisoners. But a dead man and a wounded man were of no use to thein, so I with a few equally unfortunate was taken prisoner.
It is useless to attempt to describe a person's feel- ings at time of capture and when actually in the hands of the enemy ; no one knows anything about it except from dearly-bought experience; it is needless to say that I would have taken the chances with my regiment a hundred times over, could the choice have been given me.
I found my captors were Wilcox's Brigade, of Ala- bama Regiments, a portion of A. P. Hill's . corps. How a single one of our little command had ever es- caped is strange. As it was, we lost forty-eight men in killed and wounded in this single half hour.
Like all prisoners of war, we were taken to the rear far enough to be out of range of the guns of either army, but near enough to hear' hundreds of cannon and thousands of rifles engaged in deadly conflict throughout that day and the following, July 3.
We remained on or near the field until the night of
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July 4, when with the beaten and retreating army of Gen. Lee, we took up our line of march to the Potomac, which we crossed July 10. Could the victorious army of Meade only have been informed of the condition of the Confederate army, nothing could have prevented their surrender or destruction, for they were discouraged, weary and beaten, out of anmunition, Quarter Masters' and commissary stores ; and when we arrived at the banks of the swollen Potomac at Point of Rocks, they found that the pon- toons by which we were to cross the river had been swept away by the sudden rise of water in the upper Potomac, as it had rained every day since leav- ing the battle field.
But no such good fortune was in store for us, and after a little delay pontoons were collected and we, with the beretofore victorious army of the Confeder- ate leader, were soon over the river and once more on Virginia soil.
CHAPTER II.
Now for our long tramp down the Shenandoah valley to Staunton, Virginia, more than a hundred miles away. We had about 5,000 prisoners in our column and were guarded by the remainder of Pick- et's Division, the few that were left after their brave but unsuccessful charge on our center on July 3. After being searched at Staunton and having our blankets and everything of value taken from us, we were put in box cars, sixty to a car, and started for the Confederate capital, entering the city of Rich- mond, July 21, '63, just two years to a day from the battle of First Bull Run. We prisoners, who were made up of all grades of commissioned, non-com- missioned officers and privates, were all at first put in Libby prison, but soon the enlisted men, which of course took all warrant officers, were taken from Libby and put upon Belle Island, a small, sandy tract of land in the James River, just above but in close proximity and in sight of Richmond. Here we soon began to feel all the horrors of prison life. The water and food were poor and insufficient. We had only a few condemned army tents to cover the thousands that were crowded on this small sand bar; and new prisoners were daily received from dif- ferent points throughout the Confederacy.
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Our rations were not enough to keep body and soul together; and I think that many would have died who did not but for the hope of home and our lines, and trust in our future deliverance.
I remained but seven weeks upon the island, when with 600 sick Yankees, was taken to City Point to meet our flag of truce boat that had an equal number of rebs, not sick however; for when Confederate prisoners left our Federal prisons for the southern lines, they were in condition to join their armies at once, while Northern prisoners were subjects ready for their graves or lingering sickness in hospitals.
When we came in sight of the flag of truce ship, with the dear old Stars and Stripes floating over it, we forgot all our past troubles and privations. Never did Old Glory seem so dear to us as now, although as soldiers it had meant very much more than a beauti- ful piece of bunting; but now it meant protection and, what was more than anything else to us, some- thing to eat! We had been apt to think our govern- ment neglectful in not arranging some plan by which the prisoners of either army could have been ex- changed, and had talked very bitterly in consequence, but now all was forgotten, and, instead, we felt like praising God (and the government) from whom all blessings flow, for we were to taste food once more and in God's country, as we had from natural intui- tion and instinct termed the Union Lines.
COL. MOSES B. LAKEMAN
Third Maine Infantry. Better known in the Third Corps as " Fighting Mose."
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We were taken on the flag ship as soon as the 600 well-dressed and fat Confederate prisoners came off ; they were to be paroled man for man, for us sick and weak soldiers. We were fed at once on soft bread and coffee, and if ever food tasted sweet that first meal on the boat did.
Arrived at Annapolis parole camp, Maryland, I was at once taken to the hospital, and when I had re- covered sufficiently, was given a short furlough home. I remained there some ten days when an order was issued from the War Department declaring all paroled prisoners of war legally exchanged, and for those that were able to report for duty to their regiments at once. Oct. 15, I joined my regiment in the field at Brandy Station, Va., glad to be with the old Third again and fight for the flag I loved so well.
The army of the Potomac commenced its onward march toward the rebel capital under General Grant on May 4, and the night of this date found our di- vision on the battlefield of Chancellorsville of twelve months before. The next day we were hotly engaged in the battle of the wilderness. During this engage- ment and while our regiment was having a most des- perate struggle with the enemy, a report came to our Colonel, Moses B. Lakeman, that a rebel line was in our rear, or in other words we were flanked; also instructions that he should furnish an officer to accom- pany Gen'l. Ward's Chief of staff, Capt. Nasby, and
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find out the truth of the report. Colonel Lakeman selected me, (I had received a Lieutenant's com- mission some time before,) to go with Capt. Nasby, and we started for the rear on the run, as we did not consider it necessary to use much caution in going in that direction. We had gone but a short distance. when to our consternation we found ourselves in the midst of a Confederate line of infantry, who were lying so close to the ground that, in the imperfect light of the wood, we had failed to notice them.
I grasped the terrible situation and turned to run. for life and the front, but a hundred men were on their feet in an instant. Capt. Nash, who had never been a prisoner of war, surrendered as he saw resistance was useless, worse than folly; but, with my seven weeks of horrible prison life just passed and all its terrible features still fresh in my mind, I thought that life again in a Southern prison was not worth saving. So I made a dash for liberty. A hundred muskets at less than fifteen paces covered me with the order to surrender, or I was a dead Yankee. I did surrender then and there, and was at once disarmed. In their haste they snatched my sword, and a Confederate captain of infantry buckled it around his own body. This officer was Capt. J. C. B. Smith, 12th South Carolina Infantry, as I learned thirteen years later. This Confederate command entered our lines where they did not connect, but being so small a body found
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it useless to make any demonstration, and took them- selves out of their perilous position. If word could have been taken to the front, so short a distance away, every man could have been captured. This break in our formation had been occasioned by the severe losses of our line of battle, and connection had not been maintained for want of troops. Through one of these gaps this Confederate body of infantry entered; the only result of their trip being the capture of a few prisoners.
The day after capture, May 6, we were taken with 300 prisoners gathered from the battle-field on the day before, to Orange Court House, distant twenty- seven miles, where we remained over night. The following day we were put into box cars and taken to Gordonsville, where we were searched by the Con- federate authorities and everything of value taken from us. May 8, we were put in cattle cars and taken to Lynchburg where we were placed in the Military Prison. June 1, we were removed to Macon, Ga., where a large camp of Federal officers, all prisoners of war, had been established. When we arrived there, I think the prisoners must have numbered 3.000 men, from Major Generals to 2nd Lieutenants. It was the custom of the Confederate authorities to keep the commissioned officers and enlisted men in dif- ferent places of confinement, and at that time only forty miles distant from our prison at Macon were
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thousands of our men confined at Andersonville, dying at the rate of from fifty to seventy-five a day, from starvation or from its direct causes. The old adage "Misery loves company" was soon to be truth- fully illustrated, for I knew if the four Lieutenants who were captured by Mosby on their way to Gettys- burg more than twelve months before were still alive, they must be in this prison stockade at Macon. Almost the first persons I saw as we passed inside the inclosure were Lieuts. Anderson, Day, Gilman and Blake; and as soon as they got their mouths closed from crying "Fresh Fish", the usual salute to all new arrivals, they rushed forward even more pleased to see me than I them, as I was the only officer from the regiment they had seen during their long term of more than fifteen months' imprisonment.
Every prisoner after a time accumulates little articles that help to make prison life endurable. Lieut. Anderson was quartered under a sort of shed, simply a roof of boards which, with some incon- venience and crowding, he invited me to share; he also loaned me his cooking utensils, which were half a canteen, used to cook his corn meal in, as at that time the commissary was issuing to the prisoners sorghum molasses and corn meal. For a bag for my meal I used one of the legs of my Canton flannel drawers, and the only fault I ever found with this
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improvised bag was that it was altogether too large for the quantity of meal issued.
We remained at Macon until August 15, and just before this date our camp was honored by the presence of Gen. Stoneman of cavalry fame, who was captured with a portion of his command outside the city, while trying to liberate us from our captivity. About this date, August 15, 800 officers, myself included, were put on the cars, but for what purpose or destination we knew not. We knew it was to be a free ride; as to the direction we were not consulted: but our final stopping place was Charleston, S. C., where we were at once distributed among the different buildings pre- pared for our reception, viz: Roper and Marine Hospitals, Work House and City Jail, the latter being my stopping place. I had learned, however, not to be particular about my "hotels," so said nothing when I was put in a seven by nine cell.
At that time the city of Charleston was under a state of siege from the water side, as Gen. Foster was daily and nightly throwing the largest kind of shell from the batteries on Morris Island, Battery Gregg and the Swamp Angel, right into the heart of the city ; we had been taken to this place and put in the most exposed locations to prevent, if possible, the bom- bardment of this rebel stronghold.
Our Government was notified of what the Con- federate authorities had done-an inhuman and un-
じ.
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warranted act; it was a violation of any previous articles of honorable warfare to put prisoners under the fire of their own guns. Gen. Foster paid not the slightest attention to the demand to cease firing upon the city on account of our exposed position, but, if anything, increased the severity of the siege. As the casualties among the prisoners from this artillery duel were very small, (being so well sheltered in these buildings,) we rather enjoyed this change in our prison life. We liked to watch the effect of these hundred pound shells from guns four miles away, to hear them come tearing into the city, see them strike buildings, watch them crumble and after a while be destroyed by these terrible engines of war. One of the strangest parts of this duel was, that my brother, who resigned from the army and my regiment fifteen months before on the Peninsula on account of severe and prolonged sickness, had recovered, was com- missioned in the United States navy, and was taking a part in Charleston harbor at the siege of this South- ern city. He not only showed his brotherly feeling by this red-hot reception in the way of shell and solid shot, but sent from the fleet while I was confined in Charleston a box of everything that would have made our hearts and stomachs glad, could it have been re- ceived. I learned of my brother's location off Charles- ton by the capture of one of his brother officers, Wm. II. Kitchen, attached to the same ship, who was
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caught while doing picket duty under the walls of Sumpter.
My diary commences at this date, Sept. 17, as fol- lows:
Sept. 17. Shells from our guns caused a large fire last night, destroying twenty-nine buildings, several shells striking our prison, not doing much injury.
Sept. 20. Gave draft on Confederate broker for $100.00 in gold, receiving $1000.00 in Confederate money in exchange, but as this man has got to run the blockade to present these drafts for payment in the North, there is not much chance of their ever being honored and paid. (Unfortunately they were, and when the premium on gold was at 235, as I found to my discomfiture when I finally got North).
Sept. 25. Two hundred officers left our prison for exchange. Happy few. Naval officers received money and boxes from fleet, but most of the contents of boxes had been taken.
Sept. 28. More shelling today than any twenty- four hours since being in Charleston, Foster throwing ninety very heavy shells right into the upper part of the city.
Sept. 30. Naval officers left for Richmond and exchange.
Oct. 1. Firing on the city continues very heavy. Eighty-four shell thrown during the past twenty-four hours.
Oct. 2. Shelling of the city unusually severe, 170 heavy shells having left Foster's guns for Charleston during the past twelve hours.
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