USA > New York > To sacrifice, to suffer, and if need be, to die : a history of the thirty-fourth New York Regiment > Part 9
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At this time, singularly enough, there were changes all the way up the great incline. General John Sedgwick, the division com- mander, had been seriously wounded at Antietam, and, though he recovered, did not return to his old command; but instead took the command of the Sixth Corps, and General O. O. Howard, "the Chris- tian General," took command of the Second Division. Then, also, Sumner, commander of the Second Corps, was moved up a peg, being assigned to command of the "Grand Right Wing," a brand new designation, said right wing consisting of the Second and Ninth Corps, and General Darius M. Couch suc- ceeding Sumner at the head of the Second Corps. Surely, with all these great and good new generals, all the way up and down the line we may look to see wonders done, and with a rush.
CAPTAIN EUGENE B. LARROWE-1863
November 15, on toward Richmond. Two days later we are up in the valley back of Falmouth, Va., camped in a dense oak woods, which soon will vanish under the stroke of the woodman's axe. This is to be a historic site. Before we leave this spot we shall change the whole face of the country. Thanksgiving Day spent here was not a day of bubbling ecstasy over gifts received. The soldiers might have united with Fernando Wood, Mayor of New York, in saying: " While in my judgment the past year presents very little for which we may properly be thankful, yet it is well enough to observe the day." And we did.
77
FROM ANTIETAM TO FREDERICKSBURG
Down at the end of this valley lay the little decayed town of Fal- mouth, snuggled close by the Rappahannock River. Below, where the river bank bulged to a considerable height, was the historic Lacy House, the headquarters of General Burnside, owned and kept by a widow, whose husband had been killed in the rebel army, and who " regretted that she did not have a dozen more to give to her country." Opposite the Lacy House, stretching along the river bank, lay the quaint, old, and now doubly historic town of Fredericksburg; home of Washington at one time, tomb of his mother to this day. In and about this little city war was soon and long to rage, devastating its quiet streets, and making one vast cemetery of all the surrounding country. Within the National Cemetery at this place now are camped the sleeping soldiers of the great war. This harvest was reaped from a hundred fields: sheaves from the Burnside slaughter on the 13tli of December, 1862; from Chancellorsville, Salem Church, Marye's Heights, and the battles of . the Wilderness. There certainly seems a divine propriety in the plan to make this comprehensive field a National Park, the same as at Gettys- burg and elsewhere. There is no other single tract, lying within the scope of the Thirty-fourth's two-years' campaign, that has so much in- terest for this old regiment.
OLD CAMP GROUND BACK OF FALMOUTH, VA., AS IT LOOKS AT PRESENT, 1902 Our Camp was high on the Left Center, along the Ridge now covered with Second Growth Timber.
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
The month that followed in this new camp was one of hard work for all the men. The winter soon set in in real earnest, and the men tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible, by the erection of winter quarters, though no prophet knew whether we would stay here a day or a month. The river was some distance away from the camp, and its long shore had to be guarded with a heavy line of pickets. Six companies were taken from the regiment every day for that purpose. As there are but ten com- panies in a regiment, it requires no very profound mathe- matics to work out the statement that every other day the same company would have to go on picket twice in suc- cession. But this amount of arithmetic was a little too much for some of the men, and there was kick- Lafayette Ploof Cook C. Capt. Riley. Qrm. Easterbrook. Col. Laffin ing. But there was J. Renieur, Orderly one man in the regi- COLONEL LAFLIN'S HEADQUARTERS NEAR FALMOUTH, VA., WINTER '62-'63 ment who under- stood it, and that man was Jim Greene, of Company K. Jim always had a mind for clear thinking, and for precise statement : and so, when little Leander Brown of the same company, which was on the right of line, and which had come in after a cold, rainy night on picket, and was immediately detailed to go out again, when we say little Leander couldn't understand why they should take our company twice in succession, when there were ten companies in the regiment and they only wanted six, Greene exclaimed : "Why, you blank fool, it's plain enough; take the last four, and commence at the head again." That settled it. For conciseness, accuracy, and com- prehensiveness, that statement has never been surpassed. There was nothing more to be said.
CHAPTER XI
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG
W E come to the morning of December II. At midnight before orders had arrived to be ready for a move at daybreak, and we were ready. While we are eating a hasty breakfast, we hear the sound of cannon from the direction of the river. We know the battle is on, though only the artillery is joined as yet, and none of our men are on the other side of the river. Soon we are moved down the valley, and up back of the hills and Lacy House. The artillery is thundering from all the heights. But not a move until nightfall. One man wrote home at this time: "None of us can ever forget that artillery fight. It lasted for six hours. Fredericksburg was riddled. A pontoon bridge is in course of construction in front of the city on which our troops may cross; but the rebs don't relish the idea of seeing that bridge built right under their noses, and the pontoon builders are hav- ing a red hot time. As the dusk of the night gathers down we are ad- vanced toward the river ; CAPTAIN WILLIAM L. OSWALD-1861 but the enemy on the heights across espy the move, and scour the plain, over which we are moving, with shot and shell. But, as has been remarked many times before, it takes a pile of lead and iron to kill a man; and so, though it rained on those heights as it once rained on the cities on the plain, there are few casualties, notwithstanding there are thousands of our troops in plain view of the rebel batteries on the opposite side of the river. Finally, the Seventh Michigan, in boats, crosses to the other side, and cleans the rebs out of the houses and cellars along
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
the river front, and straightway the bridge is finished; and in about the same time it takes to tell it, over pour the troops, horse and foot, into Fredericksburg town. The rebs are still hanging on, in some parts of the town, but they are soon cleaned out.
It was a weird sight which met our gaze in the streets of the city. By the light of burning buildings, thousands of men, many no doubt, with evil intent, made their way about. The heavy bombardment had made a riddle of the place. Many houses were shattered to pieces, and their contents scattered about the streets. The inhabitants had fled. In one of the houses which we entered, we noticed that a shell had come down through the roof into the parlor, and exploded in the piano. The instrument looked as if it needed tuning. Again we quote what we wrote to the Mohawk Courier immediately after the battle :
"The city was on fire in numerous places, and every building was completely riddled with our shells. Piles of dead were lying on the corners. and every door- step was a tombstone for some poor soldier who slumbered at its base. The gutters were red, and groans of wounded men stifled the very air. It was a scene which no man desires to behold but once."
We are all inclined, after forty-years' interval, to take a somewhat rosy view of those far-off events ; but that is what we wrote at the very time ; and it isn't very rosy : but it's true. Of course, there was a good deal of looting. The term has an ugly sound, and no American soldier likes to use it. But we are talking of a city whose inhabitants had fled ; whose property was strewn through all the streets, the wanton waste and desolation and spoil of war. Many of the houses, some of the most pretentious in the city, had escaped without a scratch; but, of course, they did not escape spoliation by the victorious soldiers.
All day Friday, the 12th, our army was gathering in and about the city. We were near neighbors to a watchful enemy, and we felt the advance shadow of what was impending. Down the length of every street frowned a dozen rebel guns. It is a queer sensation, living in a city with such dangerous neighbors, and so many of them. There was a second night, and it was a hot night in the old town. On Saturday morning, the ball opened for sure. The story of that dreadful slaughter, having been written in many purple testaments, need not be repeated here. For this is only the chronicle of one little regiment, and nobody will look to it for a comprehensive description of what has passed into lurid history as the Battle of Fredericksburg. The planless battle began just in the edge of the city, and near where we were lying. About nine o'clock the Thirty-fourth advanced to a position where the engagement was in plain sight, and there it stayed until some time in the afternoon, when the whole brigade advanced up one of the streets running at right angles to the river, and filed into a field close under the bluff occupied by the rebels.
Here, again, we cannot do better than to quote what we wrote to the journal above referred to immediately after the retreat :
"We suppose there were seven or eight thousand men massed under that bluff. Perhaps an inscrutable Providence could study out what this move was for; but your correspondent has never yet heard a decent theory stated. Scarcely
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I. THE ADAMS HOUSE, FAIR OAKS, TAKEN FROM IN FRONT OUR BATTLE LINE 2. LOOKING DOWN THE VALLEY TOWARD FALMOUTH FROM OUR CAMP GROUND. OLD WOODMAN HOUSE IN THE VIEW
3. THE MAREY MANSION, MARYE HEIGHTS, BACK OF FREDERICKSBURG
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
two hundred feet away, on this bluff, was a rebel redoubt with a cannon behind it. An officer on a white horse was riding around giving orders. You may be perfectly certain he had from seven to ten thousand deeply interested spectators. Not a moment elapsed before there was a puff of smoke from behind that redoubt, and a shell from a six-pounder went screaming over our heads. It never hit a man. Another and another followed, with the same result. It was evident that the piece could not be depressed sufficiently to rake us without the muzzle hitting the front of the redoubt. Then this pale horse and his rider came out from behind the redoubt, and surveyed our position, and went back. Then four men took hold of the piece, and rolled it out from behind the earthwork. It is said the judgment-day comes but once, and we all felt that it had come for us right then and there. It was a moment to be remembered forever. Now they have us for sure. The very next shot is sure to fetch us. Of all the thousands of men huddled there, every eye was fixed on that gun. The cannoneers take their positions, the process of loading and priming is gone through with, and then every head is bowed in silence, waiting for the awful messenger. It comes, like the shriek of an incarnate demon, it plowed its way into our ranks, burying us all in the dirt. Another and another followed in rapid succession, each one bringing death and destruction into our ranks. The air is filled with the groans and cries of mangled men. Every man of those thousands is clutching the earth, and trying to make himself thinner. It is a good thing, at times, to be a spare man. No one, then, wanted to be fatter. The first shot fired, after the gun was moved out, passed directly over our company (K); the next, coming in exactly the same line, fell a little short, striking just ahead of us, and doing terrible execution. Then the orderly sergeant, Jim Talcott, lying by my side, and trying to make himself thinner, said: 'Now, boys, it's our turn.' And sure enough, with an ugly scream, that might have been heard up in Herkimer County, the next shot landed squarely in our company. Every inch of the ground was covered with blue men; but this ugly auger bored a hole right through. Deep into the earth it went, and then exploded. Scarcely a man in the company but received some souvenir. And all this time we were compelled to remain inactive, not firing a shot in return. There was not a man on all that blue field but would have volunteered in an instant to dash up that height, and had there been some- one in high authority to authorize the movement, that one gun would have been silenced or captured in a moment. But, any way, the slaughter was destined not to continue for long. All this time, from the north side of the river, far away, our own cannon were booming, and the moment this one piece was rolled out from behind the breastwork, it became the target for all our artillery. There was one gun on our side, miles up the river, that we had heard booming at intervals all day. It must have been a sixty-two pounder; and a moment after the third shot of which I spoke had been fired, there came the boom of this great gun. The great shot sped on its awful mission, over miles of river and valley, and hill and meadow, and came down fair and square on the top of this mis- chievous little six-pounder, and that instant exploded. The gun and carriage were destroyed, and all the men near it knocked out, including the white horse and hisrider. Then all those ten thousand men rose, and shouted with a great shout."
As soon as we could pull ourselves together, we began to look about, and take an account of our assets. They were a sorry lot. Poor Adam Moyer ; he had but just arrived from the north, a new recruit. This was his first touch of fire. Both legs were torn off, hanging only by the shreds. How short he looked, as we laid him on a blanket, with the stumps by his side. And little Andrew A. Smith, a sweet-faced boy, slender, but every inch a man ; a leg and an arm both gone. Both these died in a little while. As Andrew was being carried from the field he said : "Tell my mother that I died like a man." It is strange how these boys always think of their mothers at such a time. Like the boy that
1861-COLONEL GEORGE W. THOMPSON-1903 Our First Adjutant.
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
was wounded back at Fair Oaks, and was taken prisoner, and to Rich- mond. All the long days he pined and wasted to a shadow, and died at last, though he had but a little wound, crying and calling "Mother, mother." Poor Andrew Smith. At the battle of White Oak Swamp, when he had fallen with the heat and exhaustion of the march, still he would not give up, and rose, and went with the men into the fight. But now his time had come, for the bone was driven up into his body. And Corporal John Hurley, of Company I, dreadfully killed. And what a lot of maimed men, all about us. Lieutenant Ransom, with a badly shattered leg ; he died a week later. And Lieutenant Finnegan is so badly hurt, he has seen the last of his service with the regiment. Orlando Fosket, with a leg shot off; and William DeForest, and Alexander Comins, both, badly in the legs.
Other regiments around us suffered as much, if not more, than the Thirty-fourth, though none were more exposed. The battle continued all about us until fairly dark, and about midnight we were relieved by the Fourth Regulars of Sykes' brigade. The following day, Sunday, matters were comparatively quiet; likewise Monday the 5th. Mon- day night, near eleven o'clock, we were suddenly called into line, and to our surprise, were marched back across the river, and two hours later were in our old camp. Thus ended the battle of Fredericksburg. Was it a folly, or a blunder? Any way, it was a butchery. And not one good thing was ever known to come of it.
Thirty-nine years after these events, the writer of this chronicle went back, and stood on that same spot, on that same field. The distance to the little redout seemed just the same, not more than two hundred feet away, scarcely that. Climbing up the little bluff, and poking away the briers and bushes which had overgrown the place, was the same earthwork. The rains of all the years had not seemed to lower it a foot.
The following are the names of those killed at Fredericksburg. On account of the severity of the wounds, nearly all of them proved fatal.
Comins, Alexander H .- K.
Ransom, First Lieut. Albert W .- D. Smith, Andrew A .- K.
Fosket, Orlando-F.
Hurley, John W .- I.
Moyer, Adam-K.
Total, 6.
The following are the names of the wounded :
Dawson, Richard-D.
Smith, Horace H .- K.
DeForest, William H .- K.
Woods, Thomas-B.
Finnegan, First Sergt. John-I.
Young, Edward-E.
Goodbread, Jerome-B.
Woolver, Amos-K.
Guile, Cornelius-K.
Wright. Ezra-H.
McLean, William J .- C. Total, II.
CHAPTER XII
WINTER IN CAMP. SECOND FREDERICKSBURG
T HE winter of 1862-63 was one of great severity in Virginia. The army, of course, could not escape its rigors. While in camp, the little houses, with their wooden walls and their canvas roofs, and their little fireplaces within, kept the men in toler- able comfort. But the never-ending exactions of picket duty on the river kept the men exposed to the bitter vicissitudes of the weather. War bristled all along shore. When bitter was the cold, and inky black the night, the lonely picket on the banks of the Rappahannock paced his beat, and kept his eye peeled on the opposite shore.
January 10, 1863, was a good day. On that day the men received a lot of express packages, containing goodies from the friends at home. For a long time fresh butter, from the home churnings, sweetened many a hard biscuit. About this time also there came an order permitting furloughs to be granted for trips home. This was most acceptable ; and in our diary covering that period we find frequent mentions of officers and privates being absent for short periods, on visits home. But later there was trouble over this very thing. It was reported that certain regiments, among them the Thirty-fourth, were not as scrupu- lously clean and orderly about camp as they ought to be; and as a punishment for the same they were to be deprived of furloughs. This, being reported in the home papers, caused sorrow among the friends, as well as the members of the regiment. There never was a decent foundation for the charge, so far as the Thirty-fourth was concerned. An immediate and thorough inspection was requested and granted, with the result of a full vindication for the regiment. The inspector-general wrote it down that "he cheerfully recommends the regiment to the restoration of all the privileges granted in general order No. 3." Thus was the country saved from another war, and officers and men con- sidered that they were more entitled to furloughs than ever.
On January 19 Burnside made another effort to do something. He got us all in motion toward United States Ford. But on the fol- lowing day it commenced to rain. It rained, and snowed, and froze, and blowed, and there was no such thing as getting on. The army was stuck in the mud. The rebels on the other side of the river heard of our predicament, and the pickets stuck up signs big enough for us to read : " Burnside Stuck in the Mud." Wretched as the case really was, it still was ludicrous. For some time afterward, as the troops thawed out, they might be seen stealing back to their old camps. Richmond still hung on the horizon, but faintly visible. "We never shall see Carcasonne." On the 26th the Army of the Potomac said good-by to Burnside. He had got a move on this time sure. And General Joseph Hooker was announced as the new commander.
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
On January 22 occurred the resignation of the regiment's much beloved commander, Colonel James A. Suiter. This was a change that touched the men much more deeply than the change in the commander of the whole army. About this time, also, we find Colonel Turner G. Morehead of the One Hundred and Sixth Pennsylvania in command of the brigade, during the temporary absence of General Sully. Within the narrow confines of this little incident, the antiquarian might search successfully for the cause of Colonel Suiter's resignation. A brave and competent officer, who had served his country conscientiously, was set aside at a time when the compliment of a temporary command of the brigade might have been handsomely bestowed, and was most thor- oughly deserved. The following is the text of Colonel Suiter's resig- nation, which was read at dress parade, and was received with genuine sorrow :
HEADQUARTERS COLONEL THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT, Near Falmouth, Va., January 26, 1863. To the Officers and Soldiers of the Thirty-fourth Regiment N. Y. Vols .:
The relations which have so long existed between us are now about being dissolved. My resignation of the colonelcy of the Thirty-fourth was demanded by a sense of honor. It has been accepted, and I am about to bid you farewell, no longer having the honor to command you. Before doing so, I desire to express to you the warmest regard and affection I feel for you all. The trials and toils we have endured, the privations we have suffered, the weary marches we have made, the terrible battles we have engaged in, have all tended to rivet the bonds that unite us. Believe that my affection for you is true and lasting. The Thirty-fourth has won, by deeds of heroic valor, a proud name and renown. In that name and renown I rejoice with you. It is ours jointly, and will be sacredly guarded. Let me, in these few parting words, urge you to guard care- fully the proud distinction the Thirty-fourth has so nobly won. Next to our beloved country, let the unstained reputation of the Thirty-fourth be the chief object of your guardian care. Be ever true to your country and its hallowed flag; and present an unbroken front to those who would trample down our country's blessed institutions. With the prayer for a speedy return of peace to our beloved land, and the overthrow of all its enemies, I commend you to the God of all battles, and bid you an affectionate farewell. I need not assure you that my home shall ever be open to all who have belonged to the gallant Thirty-fourth. God bless and protect you all. Farewell,
JAMES A. SUITER.
Lieutenant-Colonel Byron Laflin now succeeded to the command of the regiment ; Major Beverly became lieutenant-colonel ; and Captain Wells Sponable became major. And all below moved up a peg.
On February 26 we noted "the presence in camp of our old adjutant. George W. Thompson, now lieutenant-colonel of the One hundred and fifty-second New York." Colonel Thompson had resigned on January 28, to go up higher, a well-deserved promotion. Quite a number of officers had resigned at various times to go up higher; for the Thirty- fourth was a sort of recruiting camp. September 20, 1862, our old chaplain, Rev. J. B. Van Petten, had resigned for promotion ; and in the official reports, since published, we find his record : " Subsequent service as lieutenant-colonel One hundred and Sixtieth New York Volunteers, and colonel One hundred and ninety-third Volunteers." As will be seen
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WINTER IN CAMP
by the biographical sketch published elsewhere, our first colonel, Wm. Ladew, had not gone home to have an easy time. But was busy at " the front," the front having shifted at various times to New York City. We also find entries through these long winter months of visits from prominent citizens at home. Hon. S. M. Richmond, of Little Falls, looked in upon us ; as did also Hon. D. A. Northup, of Salisbury, father of the popular young Captain Northup, of Company K.
Another item deserves reference at this time. The New York Herald was probably more widely read throughout the army than any other newspaper ; and yet its utterances were most vicious. In a letter, dated January 10, we had this to say about that sheet :
"There is no paper so much read by the soldiers as the New York Herald, and yet there is no reading that so much tends to discourage and demoralize the soldiers. From it we are led to believe that in the world around us there is noth- ing transpiring favorable to our cause; every battle is a defeat and every general a failure; the whole body politic at Washington is nothing but a nest of traitors; `slavery is a blessing, and Horace Greeley a curse; Mcclellan is a little god, and General Fremont a nobody; Burnside is an imbecile, and the only way of crush- ing the rebellion is by starving it out, etc. It would be a blessing to the country, and set the advent of peace years ahead, could its publication be suppressed.'
Capt. Warford
Cap+. Northup Maj. Sponable
Lieut. Col Beverly. Capt Scott
Col. Latin
Capt. Riley.
LIEUT .- COL. BEVERLY'S HEADQUARTERS NEAR FALMOUTH, VA., APRIL 24, 1863
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HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-FOURTH REGIMENT
That is what we wrote January 10, and on February 26, following, we had thankful occasion for writing this :
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