USA > Maine > Cumberland County > Portland > Reunions of the Nineteenth Maine Regiment Association, at Portland, Bath, Belfast, Augusta and Richmond > Part 5
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USA > Maine > Sagadahoc County > Richmond > Reunions of the Nineteenth Maine Regiment Association, at Portland, Bath, Belfast, Augusta and Richmond > Part 5
USA > Maine > Waldo County > Belfast > Reunions of the Nineteenth Maine Regiment Association, at Portland, Bath, Belfast, Augusta and Richmond > Part 5
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" How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me : * * ** the old familiar faces."
The recollections that come thronging upon us upon such an occasion as this are as varying as the changing clouds. To-night a hundred scenes rush tumultuously across the mirror of memory. each as vivid and lifo- like as was the occurrence itself in the years that are past. Scenes of merriment and keen enjoyment, scenes of sorrow and of death-scenes
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that even now bring to the heart a sense of pain-seenes of which the very thought brings the laugh to our lips .-- scenes of doubt and discour- agement, scenes of victory and exultation. There are certain scenes which need no army experience to recall.
The winter and spring of 1861 were too pregnant with important affairs to be ever forgotten by those who lived in their midst, though, looking back through the whirling series of events which have crowded upon us since. they seem sometimes more like the fantastic memories of a troubled dream than the exciting. thrilling realities which they were. It was a time fraught with fears and discouragement. painful uncertainty; sorrow- ful, despouding prayers-a time when first the life of the republic was in extreme peril, when the fate of the nation hung. as it were, upon a single thread; when from the heart of every patriotic bosom in the whole length and breadth of the North there went forth & cry for help, a call for strong hands and brave hearts to the rescue; a cry that rose clear above the roar of the rebel guns levelled at Fort Sumter, above the tramp of armed men and the preparation for war at the south. For a moment the friends of free government seemed in doubt. Was there patriotism and courage in the country equal to the great emergency? Were there strong hands and brave hearts among the people to meet and turn back that great wave of rebellion which threatened to overwhelm the government estab- lished by our fathers? Were the men who fought at Bunker Hill and Saratoga and Yorktown. the last of their race? Had patriotism of the Kind that could fight and suffer and die for the sake of fatherland. gone forever? For a montent. so to speak. for a moment only, did the people ask themselves such questions as these. When the stern reality was forced home to the people that only a death struggle would save the Union-that "men must work and woman must weep " -- we learned that patriotism and courage are confined to no land, to no age, but are univer- sal and eternal. The cry of the government for help found an answering echo in every patriotic home in the republic. From the north. from the cast and from the great west. men sprang forth. full-armed. as Minerva sprang from the brain of love, and then hurried southward, like the rushing of a mighty, resistless north wind, hosts of armed men, earnest to fight-to die if need be-to conquer in any event. Wives parted from loisbands, mothers from their sons, giving them freely for the saving of the nation, though every parting was as the parting in death. No "Aperience of weary marches. of desperate battles. of days and nights of suffering. are necessary to bring the recollections of the time of which I speak to the people's memory. You all recall these events as vividly as though they occurred but yesterday, and they will ever be with you to the very last day of your lives.
Of the history of the 19th Maine Regiment in detail. it is not my pur- pres or my province to speak. That task has been entrusted to abler and more faithful hands. I propose to allle in a general way to two or three phases of our experience. which I am sure. my comrades, will recur vividly to you on their mere mention.
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I recall first of all, comrades, the time when "we were first acquaint," when we first knew each other as comrades who for three long years were to meet, shoulder to shoulder, the stern, the terrible reality of war. For a whole year the war had raged, a year of disaster to our army in the east. Bull Run had been fought and lost; Mcclellan had been driven from the Peninsula with terrible loss of life; Lee with his victorious army was thundering almost at the very door of the capital. Whatever others who enlisted in the early days of the conflict may have thought; we knew that the war was no ninety days' pastime. We realized that danger and death were at the front, and that months of hard fighting awaited us. With this belief we came together at our rendezvous. From the farm, from the workshop, from the counting-room, from the office, we came. We were not soldiers then. We had enlisted for the war. we were to become soldiers, but when we first met, comrades, how pro- foundly ignorant were we of the commonest requirements of military duty! We had much to learn, and we knew, from the experience of our armies already in the field. the necessity of learning our duty. Our regi- ments as they went towards the front were merely masses of earnest men. but without the discipline necessary for regiments of soldiers. That men in such a condition could not achieve victories, had been learned early in the war.
The country was surprised and dismayed at the defeat and panic of our men at Bull Run. It was a result that no one was prepared to expect or believe. To us, now, viewing the affair through the experience of the war. the surprise is that the panic extended no further. Ignorant as all were of the knowledge of military duty, undisciplined. led to believe that a sure and easy victory awaited them, the defeat and panie were foregone conclusions. It wouldn't have been much surprising if every man had followed the example of one of the brave volunteers from a rural town. who said he heard the order to Retreat, and having no orders to halt, kept on retreating until he reached his own home.
Bull Run was a lesson, a severe lesson to the country. The govern- ment learned something of the duties and the preparations necessary for carrying on a great war. I apprehend that those Senators and members Congress, who gallantly rode out in their carriages to enjoy the sight of a battle. knew more of the real character of war when, late at night. they returned to Washington on foot, tired, hungry, dirty and horribly fright- ened. At any rate. after that they preferred to fight their battles at the Capitol. their safety assured by the presence of thousands of troops. whose services were sorely needed at the front. The goverment, after Bull Run, saw the necessity of a thorough organization of the Army of the Potomac, and Gen. MeClellan was appointed to the command, What- ever may have been his subsequent failures. his organization and disci- pline of that army was thorough and masterly. This task of organizing 150.000 raw recruits into a disciplined and efficient army, was one of which few have any adequate conception. Officers and men, as I have before said, were profoundly ignorant of every branch of military duty.
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Fifty years of profound peace had caused the very vocabulary of war to be forgotten. Those ludicrous stories of green officers and men, over which everybody laughs, are really no exaggeration. That of the infantry captain who desired to march his company by the flank, and so gave the command, "Now, men, turn just half way round and walk endways;" or that of the western cavalry officer who gave the order: "Prepare to git onto your critters,-Git !" are matched by actual occurrences in every regiment. There is a good story told of a green colonel of a new cavalry regiment. As I heard the story, the regiment was one from this State. but as Maine sent but two cavalry regiments to the war, I choose to locate the same " out West." It isn't always safe to run the risk of being too personal. At one of our reunions I was telling some of these stories of verdant officers, when nearly every one of the old officers present jumped to his feet, each indignantly demanding whether I meant him. Discretion obliged me to answer in the negative. But to return to the cavalry colonel. Before leaving the State, he undertook. one day, to march his command. by column of company. through a gate-way. As he neared the gate-way he saw with horror that the gate-way was not so wide as his company front. How to get his regiment through be had no conception. He measured the gate-way with his eye, and then he measured the front of his leading company. It was no use. The thing couldn't be done, by him at least. In a fit of desperation he gave the order to halt, and ericd out. " Men. I'll give you just fifteen minutes to get through that gate and form on the other side just as you are now."
I give these stories to show the material of which a great army was to be created. But though our men had so plentiful lack of military knowl- edge. they possessed something better-the intelligence and quickness of perception of the American citizen. Six months of Mcclellan's thorough diciplinemetamorphosed those raw levies into veterans, and created the grand Army of the Potomac. This discipline, this education, that army urver forgot. Though constantly changing. new men filling the places of those who fell by the way. the disciplined army remained. Bull Run was its first and last panic. Illy managed at times, and unsupported, it failed sometimes to achieve victory, when victory was demanded by those who fought by the tireside; failed to accomplish impossibilities. but it hrVer. as an army, showed any symptoms of panic. However severely it might be handled by the enemy, its discipline remained intact. It was ever ready to instantly resume the offensive. Driven from the Peninsula. surely hurt at 2nd Bull Run. South Mountain and Chantilly. it could follow the enemy across the Potomac. and deal Lee a blow at Antietam that sent him back to his line of defences in Virginia. Or repulsed after ferce hard-fought days at Fredericksburg-fighting against hope-kuow- Ing; as every man in the army knew. except possibly the commanding Erhieral, that vierory was impossible. gud filling to achieve success at (Lanrelorsville, it could still rekettes grapple with the rebels at Gettysburg. and achieve the first substantial victory in the east. This power of endurance, this tenacity, the army owed in a great measure to 4
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the thorough schooling of Gen. MeClellan in the fall of 1861 and the fol- lowing winter.
Permit me, here, to add a word in relation to Gen. McClellan. I am quite sure that what I shall say will express the sentiment of every one of my comrades now present. While some may believe that Mcclellan lacked some quality necessary for conducting a great campaign to a successful issue, no man who ever served an hour under his command will ever believe him to be other than an able soldier, a brave, warm- hearted. patriotic man. No charge of disloyalty, or indifference towards the nation's cause. ever came from the lips of his soldiers. However much of adiniration he may have for the other able commanders of the Army of the Potomac, not forgetting that which he will freely and fully accord to that indomitable hero who led us from the Rapidan to Appomatox and to victory, the soldier will ever cherish in his heart a warm affection for "Little Mac." He was the father of the grand army, the hero of the private soldier.
I pass over that period when we men of the 19th were learning to be soldiers. That time soon passed by, and as soldiers we took an active part in every movement of the Army of the Potomac. Not a campaign. hot a march, not a battle. not a defeat, not a victory of that army. from Fredericksburg to the close. in which we have not an honorable share. The history of the Army of the Potomac cannot be fully written with the 19th Maine omitted. It would be like the play of Hamlet with Handlet left out. a romance with no beautiful heroine, a great epic poem withont a grand hero.
Of the real character of a soldier's carcer. those who do not know it by experience have little real knowledge. Great battles, where thousands have fallen upon either side, in which the fate of nations is determined. are merely mile posts in the march of armies. moments which are seen from afar with wonder and awe. Men and women wonder that mon are capable of the herole deeds which are performed upon those bloody fields. Thermopylæ, Waterloo. Gettysburg, bring up scenes of valor and hero- ism-the admiration of every age and all peoples. But it is not upon fields of battle alone that true heroism is displayed. In the cool. mauly courage of the lonely picket-the private soldier. upon whose watchful eye and steadfast fidelity the safety of the army depends .- is heroion often displayed in Higher degree than that exhibited amid the excitement of actual battle. A coward may exhibit bursts of courage, when urged on by the roar of battle and the eries of the combatants. but only the brave man can face danger unflinchingly. through the long dark hours of night .- hearing no sound save his own breathing-feeling that at any in- stant of time the bullet of an unseen foe may pierce his heart : and know- ing that to abandon his post. to even seek a more sheltered position. may bring ruin to his country's canse. That man is a bero. For him no granite shaft will pierce the clouds, no grand poema sound his fame; the histo- rian's pen will make no record, even. of his name-but yet he is the true patriot. He saw awaiting him neither wealth nor glory, no reward but
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the consciousness of well doing, but simply did his duty for simple duty's sake alone.
The nation may grant its meed of glory to its great commanders ; may crown them with the victor's laurels ; may name them the saviors of their country ; may heap upon them the highest honors,-but should not forget that victory was reached, the Union saved, the nation redeemed through the patient fidelity, the unrewarded services, the heroie, self-sacrificing devotion of the private soldier. No! It is not upon the field of battle that the soldier is called upon to exhibit the greatest valor. the calmest, noblest courage. These have been displayed upon occasions which the pen of history will never record.
Let me recall a scene. It is night; a dark, bitter night. in the late autumn. Already the biting winds of winter are sweeping over hill and plain. freezing the warm blood as it courses through the veins, and even casting its chill upon the very hearts of men. In front sharply rises a steep, almost precipitous hill. Upon its erest the hands of the enemy have raised a massive breastwork, strengthened by fascine and gabiou, and all the skill and energy of which men are capable. Upon right and left. in front, along the whole long line of works, the deep cannons mouths east their terrible frown adown the long hill-side. threatening death to all who dare approach the stronghold. The steep slope which extends from the plain below to the threatening crest above. is netted by moat and ditch and thickly set with abattis, and all those fearful contrivances through which men must cut their way in order to reach the heart of the enemy's works. Through the long night the sound of spade and axe. and the moving of artillery, show that the enemy is adding to the strength of his already well-nigh impregnable position. Upon the plain below is our own army. Each regiment is placed in position for attack upon the enemy's works. Knapsack and blanket are piled in the rear. that they may not impade the progress of the men up the fearful hill-side. Though hunger calls for food, no meal can be prepared, for the fires necessary for the pur- pose would show our position and our numbers to the watchful enemy : though the cold winds freeze the very marrow. no friendly fire can restore warmth to the chilled limbs; though the drooping eyelids call pitifully for sleep. each soldier knows that to sleep uncovered in that bitter air would be the sleep of death ; though every muscle has been taxed to ex- haustion by the long weary march of the preceding day. no rest can be had. for only by constant motion can the men avoid perishing with cold. " At daylight the enemy's works are to be carried by assault." Such is the order of the commanding general. Every man understands the full meaning of that short but fearful order. It means that when the signal is given, they must rush with the impetuosity of wild beasts into that fear- ful thicket with which military art has studded the hill-side. and with axes, bayonets, with their torn, bleeding, bare hands, they must tear a way through to the very top. That when that terrible advance begins along that long line of works, the artillery will hurt its iron storm. and musketry will pour its leaden hail. That when the crest is reached a hand
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to hand contest will take place; bayonet will clash on bayonet ; clubbed musket will deal thick blows about, and toes perhaps clinch each other in a death struggle. That thus shall the battle rage until adown the hill-side our shattered, almost exterminated lines will be hurled in utter defeat ; or up the rampart shall be flung the glorious stars and stripes, and the exulting shout of victory shall ring from the hill-top. This every soldier knows is what awaits him at the breaking of the morn. At daybreak the enemy's works are to be assaulted! ITe knows that upon thousands of his comrades, perhaps, and likely upon himself, the bright sun has risen for the last. last time; that his next beams will fall upon heaps of dead ; that his rising shall be heralded by the shrieks of the wounded and the moans of the dying. And so, the long night passes slowly away, each man waiting and watching to catch the first glimmer in the east, which may be the sigual of his own death. Thoughts of home, of loved ones, of his childhood scenes -- O God! what thoughts do not press upon his weary heart and brain. We read of heads turned white by a single night of terror; that with the knowledge that death comes with the morrow, reason has deserted her throne, and the wretched man has became a raging maniac. But yet those men. through the long hours of the night, look coolly in the face of death. To but few does there come any thought of escaping the responsibilities and dangers of the coming morn. What though that battle was never fought? That just before the glimmering dawn. the order was countermandel, the assault abandoned? The his- torian records no bloody page, but the heroism of the men who thus feed death is as great as though
" The earth were covered thick with other clay Which ber own clay shall cover, heaped and rent, Rider and horse-friend, for-in one red burial blent."
This is no fancy scene which I have called from the fields of imagina- tion. Some of you, my comrades, will recognize the time and place. 1 trust I shall not be understood as attempting to detract from the glory won by brave men in actual battle. Imperishable honor to those who do battle bravely in a good cause! There is something terribly grand in a great battle. Were it not known to be a fact, we could hardly believe that mere flesh and blood were capable of such deeds as are then performed. The Old Guard at Waterloo, standing like statues of eternal granite while the angel of death swept them away like chaff before the whirlwind. refusing the compassionate appeal of their foes to surrender, but hurling back. with a bitter taunt, the reply: " The Old Guard dies but never surrenders." The charge of the Light Brigade at Balacklava, when
" Boldly they rode and well Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell Reale the six hundred."
These would be deemed the creations of fiction, were they not vouched for by sober history. And yet these scenes are matched over and over
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again, in the history of the war of the great rebellion. You. comrades, can recall them one by one as you con over your own experience. Where in all the records of the bloody scenes of war will you find anything por- trayed more terribly grand than that last rebel charge at Gettysburg. For three days had the battle raged. Time and again had Lee charged our lines, only to be hurled back with terrible loss. He determined to make one last terrible struggle, one more bloody effort to break our lines. and drive us in defeat from our position. For two hours had his artillery, thundered at us, scattering death everywhere. For two hours had our artillery returned that terrible fire with interest. Forming his men behind the opposite hill. he prepared for the attack, while we, almost breathless. awaited his coming-the mouths of our cannon open to receive the enemy. the cannoniers behind their guns like statues of steel. the long line of infantry clenching their rifles as only men will clench when inspired with the energy of desperation. Not long had we to wait, for as the rebel cannon ceased their fire, on the crest opposite appeared first a line of skirmishers and immediately behind the solid grey lines of infantry. Down the long slope they come, magnificent in their steadiness and con- fident in their bearing. As they came within range. our artillery. double shotted, opened upon them with terrific effect with a perfect storm of shell, grape-shot and canister, tearing its way from rank to rank, sweep- ing away whole battalions, as it seemed. strewing the ground with the forms of mutilated men. Not once did that magnificent charging column waver or turn. but closing up its broken ranks on it pressed with a firm. quick step. as steadily and coolly. apparently as fearlessly as though it were a parade, all as silent as the dead, except the short, sharp orders of the officers, as they directed the movements of the men. On they come until they reached within two hundred yards of our line, when the well- known rebel yell broke upon our ears, and the rebel column rushed to the attack at a full run; but at that moment from ten thousand rifles along our line. their burst a sheet of fire, and a storm of lead met the enemy full in the face. For a moment they hesitated. and then on they pressed, charging up to the very mouths of the camion. and hurling themselves with almost irresistible force upon our thin line of infantry. They seemed enveloped in a whirlwind of frenzy. For an instant the lines met ; there was a clash of bayonets; a confused struggle of desper- ate men. face to face and foot to foot; a perfect vortex of carnage, a veritable struggle for existence ; until human endurance could hold out no longer and the rebel host turned and fled, our men with a wild. exult- ant shout, charging in turn, and driving them back to their own lines, and the Battle of Gettysburg was won.
" By Heaven! it is a glorious sight to see, For one who bath no friend or brother there."
These, my friends, are some of the scenes that come thronging the memory upon such an occasion as this. So thrillingly vivid are they. that it is only by an effort that we tear ourselves from them. and realize
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that they are but memories indeed; the spectres of events long passed ; that the red war cloud has disappeared from our horizon; that peace reigns supreme over the length and breadth of our country; that we have long since ceased to be soldiers, and that we are now sober. middle-aged citizens of that grand Republic for whose life in years gone by we imper- Filled our own. For us
" The war drum throbs no longer, and The battle flags are furle l."
The disbanding of our magnificent armies in the summer of 1865, was viewed with alarm by many good people. Would the half million of men, surrounded for so many months by the demoralizing influence of war, accustomed to scenes of violence and bloodshed, become the law-abiding citizens which they had once been,-resume their former selves,-or would they not rather rejoice in scenes of turbulence and crime? Grave students of history told you that every great war was followed by periods of turbulent excitement, and great wickedness. Whatever may have been the fact in other countries, at the close of other wars, the event proved that among our free, intelligent citizens. the hand that had grasped the musket and wieldled the sword, could as bravely and conscientiously turn itself to the peaceful vocations of life. I assert, without fear of contradic- tion, that since the close of the war of the rebellion, no class of citizens have evinced a higher veneration for law and order, a greater horror of bloodshed and crime, in any form or shape. a higher appreciation of all the arts and blessings of peace. than the men who fought in the field.
During the weeks and months which succeeded our last presidential election. when the issue was in doubt. when the partizans of the rival can- didates were stoutly pressing the claims of their respective chiefs, when criminations and recriminations were hurled back and forth. when some at the national capital whose blood was hotrest threatened to inaugurate war in the event of their candidate being set aside. no class joined with greater earnest with the great mass of the American people of both politi- cal parties, than those. North and South, who knew from experience the calamities of war, in calmly saying to the respective champions at Wash- ington : You may press the claim of your candidates with all the vigor and ability you can command- you may criminate and recriminate as you choose -- but understand. that the contest must be settled in peace, and according to the forms of law, and not in blood, amid domestic violence. War among the American people is now impossible. Politicians and par- tizans heard: they recognized the voice and obeyed. To them Vox Populi. Vor Dei-The voice of the people is the voice of God. Civil war! with the Great Rebellion staring us in the face ! and the men still vigorous who fought in that war! It were simply an impossibility to inaugurate it. Why. the recollection-the historian's record of that war will serve to deter rebellions and revolutions long after its last survivor has mingled his dust with that of mother earth.
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