Meanwhile, on the left, Burnside became hotly engaged. At nine o'clock in the morning, his troops moved down toward the stone bridge, over which they hoped to cross. The hills on either side slope down almost to the water's edge; the road leading to the bridge winding through a ravine, and then on the other side ascending through another ravine to the highlands. No sooner had the head of the column descended into this amphitheater of hills, than the rebels opened a destructive fire from behind defenses which they had thrown up along the hillsides. Rifle pits, and breastworks of rails and stones, concealed thousands of infantry, who, from their secure position, poured volley after volley into the advancing column; while batteries, placed upon the heights, brought an enfilading fire upon the bridge and its approaches. In the face of this reception, the Ninth corps formed in line of battle. One brigade with fixed bayonets charged upon the bridge; but the concentrated fire of the enemy forced it back. Charge after charge was ordered and executed by different portions of the command with like success. At length a battery was brought to bear directly upon the enemy's position at the farthest end of the bridge, and, aided by these guns, fresh troops charged with great enthusiasm, carrying the bridge and planting their colors on the opposite side of the stream. Sturgis' division immediately advanced up the slope, driving the enemy before it. Meanwhile Rodman's division had succeeded, after a desperate fight, in crossing the stream below, and had also gained a position along the crest of the hills. The enemy having the range perfectly, made the position along the crest of the hills untenable, and the men were forced to fall back a little; lying close upon the ground to avoid the shells that burst about them.

At length, at three o'clock, General Burnside ordered a general advance. The divisions moved in fine order, but were soon met by the enemy in overpowering numbers. The whole line became hotly engaged. All the reserves were brought into action, and still the rebels poured upon the Union men in increasing numbers; pressing their flank and turning the attack into a doubtful defense. It seemed impossible for the corps to hold its position against the overwhelming force opposed to it. At this juncture General Burnside sent to General McClellan for aid. Porter's troops were still in reserve; but McClellan refused to relieve the hardly pressed corps. Again Burnside sends word, "I cannot hold my position half an hour longer, unless I am reinforced;" and again the appeal is met with refusal. Contrary to his own expectations, Burnside's forces held their ground until darkness put an end to the strife.

Thus our own Sixth corps, and Burnside's corps, held the ground they had each by most desperate fighting wrested from the hands of the enemy; and in spite of the peril which had threatened the right, when Hooker's braves were forced back, the center, where Sumner's brave men fell back for the third time with empty cartridge boxes, and the left, where Burnside was so hardly pressed, the advantage remained with our army; and the weary soldiers lay down in the expectation of renewing the battle in the morning.

Their valor had saved them from defeat; they hoped to make the battle that should come, a complete victory.

But the battle was ended. Toward morning, it was known to officers of our corps that the rebels were moving back, and the fact was reported; but no attention was paid to it. A truce, under pretense of burying the dead, gave the rebels a quiet day, in which to prepare for their escape, by sending their trains and much of their artillery to the rear; and on the night of the 18th, the whole rebel army disappeared. So this memorable and sanguinary battle ended. A defeat for the rebels, but not the decided victory to our arms that could have been hoped for.

The Second division of the Sixth corps was relieved soon after noon of the 18th by Couch's division, which was soon afterward joined to the Sixth corps. Until now our corps had consisted of but two divisions, the First and Second. Our men were glad to fall back enough to allow them to cook their coffee once more, and they proceeded to the work of preparing a good meal with great spirit.

The scene on the battle-field was past description. The mangled forms of our own comrades lay stretched upon the ground, side by side with those of the rebels. On almost every rod of ground over one hundred acres, the dead and wounded, some clad in the Union blue and some in confederate gray, were lying. A ghastly sight, presenting all the horrible features of death which are to be seen on such a field. At one point in our own front, for more than half a mile, the rebels lay so thickly as almost to touch each other. On the field where Hooker's men had won and lost the field, the dead and dying were scattered thickly among the broken cornstalks, their eyes protruding and their faces blackened by the sun. Wherever the lines of battle had surged to and fro, these vestiges of the terrible work were left. In the edge of the wood, where the rebels had made a stand against Hooker's advancing divisions, the bodies lay in perfect line, as though they had fallen while on dress parade. Further to the left there was a narrow road, not more than fifteen feet wide, with high fences on either side. Here a regiment of rebels was posted; when our batteries getting an enfilading fire upon them, and the infantry at the same time opening a murderous fire, the regiment was literally destroyed; not more than twenty of their number escaping. Their bodies filled the narrow road. Some were shot while attempting to get over the fence; and their remains hung upon the boards. A more fearful picture than we saw here, could not be conceived.

Broken caissons, wheels, dismounted guns, thousands of muskets, blankets, haversacks and canteens, were scattered thickly over the field; and hundreds of slain horses, bloated and with feet turned toward the sky, added to the horror of the scene.

While the excitement of battle lasts, and we hear the roar of artillery, and the shock of contending armies, the terrible reality of the occasion hardly presents itself to our minds, and it is only when we survey the bloody field, strewed with the mangled, lifeless remains of friend and foe, or walk through the hospitals, where the unfortunate victims of battle writhe in the agony of their wounds, that we realize the terrible nature of a great battle.

Sickening as is the sight of the battle-field, the scenes about the hospitals are worse, except to those who are actually engaged in ministering to the relief of the wounded. To these the excitement and labor incident to their duties, crowd out the thoughts of the ghastly surroundings. They see only so many demands upon them for assistance, and have no time to indulge in sentimental emotions.

Here in the rear of the army for miles, was a succession of hospitals. Every house, and barn, and haystack, formed the nucleus of a hospital, where men, shot through the head, through the limbs, through the body; with every conceivable variety of wounds, lay groaning in anguish. Surgeons toiled day and night with never lagging zeal to relieve these sufferings, but all their labor could only afford slight relief. The labors of medical officers after a great battle are immense, and there is no respite from their toils so long as a wounded man remains uncared for. While others find repose from the fatigues of battle in sleep, the surgeons are still at work; there is no sleep for them so long as work remains to be done.

The rebel army had fallen back; yet a skirmish line had been left to cover the movement. At length even this suddenly disappeared, and, firing a few solid shots, as a parting salute, the enemy took a final leave of the field. Our forces were ordered on. We passed over the scene of carnage, where hundreds of dead lay still unburied; and pioneers were on every part of the field throwing the mangled, disfigured forms into shallow graves. Along the roadsides, under the fences, and where the confederate hospitals had been, still these gory objects met our view. We reached Sharpsburgh, and here the evidences of the terrible conflict were to be seen everywhere. Houses riddled by shells and bullets; some of them destroyed by fire, and some battered into shapeless masses; the streets filled with disabled wagons; horses galloping about without riders; knapsacks, guns and equipments cast away in the hasty flight; churches filled with rebel wounded; all helped to make up a scene of destruction such as has been rarely witnessed. The people of the village welcomed us as their deliverers, and brought water, and such other refreshments as they had been able to conceal from the rebels. We passed the village and bivouacked for the night.

On the 20th, we, of the Sixth corps, retraced our steps, passing again over the battle-field, where the stench was now unendurable. We reached Williamsport at daylight, where Couch's division was face to face with the enemy, who were said to be recrossing the river, and who had last night forced back part of the division.

The rebel force had, however, consisted of about four thousand cavalry, who, finding the Unionists in force, quickly returned to the south side of the Potomac. Here we found an immense division of Pennsylvania militia drawn up in line of battle. Its regiments were larger than our brigades. They were armed with every variety of fire-arms, from light sporting shot-guns to Sharpe's rifles. Their uniforms had quite as little uniformity as their arms. Some were dressed in gray pants and jackets, others in light blue; and still others in the various fashions which constituted the wearing apparel at home. Grave gentleman in spectacles, studious young men in green glasses, pale young men who were evidently more at home behind the counter than in line of battle, roughs who had not been tamed by the discipline of military life, and boys who, for the first time, had left the paternal mansion, made up the heterogeneous division.

Remaining at Williamsport until the morning of the 23d, we marched on the Hagerstown turnpike to Bakersville, where we remained about three weeks. Here it was that Couch's division was joined to the Sixth corps. (The regiments of this division were, the 36th, 55th, 62d, 65th, 67th and 122d New York; the 23d, 82d, 93d, 98th and 102d Pennsylvania; the 7th, 10th and 37th Massachusetts, and the 2d Rhode Island.) On the 3d of October the corps was ordered out for review by President Lincoln. The line was formed on a fine plain, and the booming of cannon announced the approach of the Commander-in-Chief of the armies of the United States. The illustrious visitor was accompanied by Generals McClellan, Franklin, Smith and other notable men, with an immense retinue. Conscious of the fatigues already endured by these veterans, the President simply passed along the line of the divisions, acknowledging the salutations which greeted him, without requiring the columns to march in review. The soldiers manifested their appreciation of the interest taken by the Chief Magistrate in their welfare, by loud and repeated cheers. Sumner's, Burnside's and Porter's corps had already been reviewed by the President.

While at this camp, large accessions were made to our thinned ranks. Before the army left Harrison's Landing, efforts had been set on foot for filling up the skeleton regiments of our army. Recruiting officers had been detailed from every regiment, to go to the localities from which their respective regiments had been raised, and bring in recruits, to fill the places made vacant by death and disease. The critical condition of affairs when the army was withdrawn from the Peninsula, and, afterward, when Pope was so disastrously forced back upon the defenses of Washington, had roused to most earnest action, many patriots, who hoped to avert further disaster by forwarding men to the field. Under these influences, and as the result of these patriotic efforts, many recruits offered themselves; but after the battle of Antietam, new life was added to the recruiting service. Many who then supposed that the war was nearly ended, gladly accepted the large bounties, and in the hope of soon being "in at the death" of the rebellion, enrolled themselves among the soldiers of the Union. War meetings were held in every town, and the utmost enthusiasm was created. In Saratoga, a large concourse of people, among whom were many of the visitors at the Springs, gathered for a war meeting. Stirring speeches were made. Ladies offered their diamond rings, their watch chains, their watches and other valuables to those who should come forward and enter the service. Under the influence of such enthusiasm, many came forward and enrolled their names, and received the jewels from the fair hands of the patriotic donors. By such efforts as these, all over the country, from two to three hundred recruits were raised for each regiment in our corps, and large accessions were made to the ranks of the whole army.

The advent of the new comers was hailed with joy by the veterans, who had become sadly discouraged by their small and constantly decreasing numbers.

Our men were enjoying the welcome rest and the abundant supply of food obtained in this delightful country, and many varieties of diet, well remembered as familiar in former years, but unknown to them since their campaigns commenced, adorned their humble mess tables. Among other luxuries, "hasty pudding" and johnny cake became common articles of diet. The process of producing these articles, was after the rude manner of men who must invent the working materials as they are needed. One-half of an unserviceable canteen, or a tin plate perforated by means of a nail or the sharp point of a bayonet, served the purpose of a grater or mill for grinding the corn. The neighboring cornfields, although guarded, yielded abundance of rich yellow ears; which, without passing through the process of "shelling," were rubbed across the grater, yielding a finer meal than is usually ground at the grist mills. The meal being obtained, it was mixed with a large or small quantity of water, as mush or cake was desired, and cooked.

The men complained of want of proper and sufficient clothing, and many of them were absolutely barefooted. On whom the blame for the long delay in furnishing these necessary articles should rest, we can only refer to the controversy between the Major-General commanding the armies of the United States and the Major-General commanding the Army of the Potomac.

Soon after midnight, October 11th, the corps was ordered to move to Hagerstown. In the midst of a heavy shower the march was made, and Hagerstown was reached soon after daylight. Here a new cause of excitement occurred. Stuart, with his cavalry, was in our rear; Chambersburgh was burned, and other towns sacked. The Vermont brigade was hastily loaded into cars and sent to Chambersburgh in pursuit of the cavalry, which was already far on its way to the Potomac. Of course they could only return, having had an excursion through the country at government expense. The Third brigade of Smith's division marched hastily to the Maryland and Pennsylvania line, to where a stone bridge crossed the Antietam; a battery of artillery was also here, and the brigades and battery prepared to defend the crossing. But no enemy appeared, and the two brigades returned to Hagerstown; the Vermonters to occupy the town as provost guard, the other to encamp in a delightful grove a mile beyond.

Thus ended the famous campaign of Antietam; which had humbled the pride of the boastful confederates, and had turned back their hordes to their mountain fastnesses in Virginia for safety. A campaign which, while conducted with great hesitancy and a total want of that celerity of movement usually considered absolutely necessary to brilliant success in military operations, yet had preserved the north from imminent and immediate danger which threatened it. Our losses in killed, wounded and missing, in this campaign, amounted to fifteen thousand two hundred and twenty.

The army was posted, two corps, the Second and Twelfth, at Harper's Ferry; the remaining corps along the Potomac, above and below that point, for twenty miles. Here, six weeks were spent in getting ready for another campaign; the President, meanwhile, constantly ordering an advance across the river; General McClellan, constantly offering excuses for delay. It is not our purpose to discuss the merits of these excuses, but it may not be out of place to mention, that although the Sixth corps was represented as being in worse condition, in regard to clothing and shoes, than any other corps, that corps finally crossed the river before it received its clothing, showing that even the corps least supplied with these important articles could undertake the campaign even after another month's wear of the old clothes and the advent of the cold weather. On the 18th of October, that portion of the Third brigade able to perform duty, was marched to Clear Spring to perform picket duty, leaving in camp the recruits, who were unarmed, and the invalids. Thus the brigade occupied two distinct camps several miles apart. The duty on picket was by no means severe, and the country was delightful. The boys found little difficulty in procuring abundant supplies of luxuries, such as soft bread, hoe cakes and other articles, from the farmers; and as the enemy was at Winchester, they were not in great alarm from rebel raids.

The Hagerstown camp was indeed a pleasant one. The people were generally loyal, and seemed glad to furnish the soldiers with all the comforts possible. There was little duty, and the invalids had time for recovering their exhausted strength, while the recruits were afforded an opportunity for drill.

General Slocum, who had commanded the First division of our corps since the corps was organized, was assigned to the command of the Twelfth corps, in place of General Mansfield, who lost his life at Antietam.

In the Vermont brigade an important change occurred, General Brooks, the old and tried commander of the brigade, was assigned to the command of the first division of the corps, succeeding General Slocum, who took command of the Twelfth corps. General Brooks was one of the most energetic and brave brigade commanders in our army, and notwithstanding his abrupt and sometimes very stern manners, had endeared himself by his excellent discipline and fighting qualities, not only to his brigade, but to the whole division.

An amusing incident, well calculated to illustrate the mingled sentiments of love and fear entertained for the general by even those in his own command, occurred at a meeting of the officers of the brigade, immediately after the order for the transfer. The object of the meeting, was to make arrangements for presenting the general with a suitable testimonial of their regard. Some discussion occurred in regard to the character of the gift. Some proposed a silver service, some a sword. At length it was proposed, that a fine horse and equipments be purchased. An officer rose and said that it was all very well to talk about buying a horse for General Brooks, but he would like to know who would be so bold as to undertake to present it to him! Another officer suggested that the horse might be saddled and bridled and hitched in front of the general's quarters during the night, with a note tied to the bridle stating for whom it was designed, and by whom presented.

A magnificent silver service was finally presented to the general, who, forgetting his rough manners, received the beautiful gift of his loved brigade with tears standing on his brown cheeks.



CHAPTER XV.

THE SECOND ADVANCE INTO VIRGINIA, AND THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURGH.

Marching in Maryland—Arrival at New Baltimore—General McClellan superseded by General Burnside—Thanksgiving in camp—The grand divisions organized—The march resumed—Fatal delays—In order of battle—The crossing—Fredericksburgh bombarded—Situation of Fredericksburgh—Scenes of activity—The Bernard house—Scenes at the hospital—The battle on the right—Charges of the Pennsylvania reserves—The river recrossed—Reflections.

Thus, for nearly six weeks, the army remained at Hagerstown, and on the line of the Potomac, resting and waiting for clothing. On the 28th of October, orders came to clear all the camps of sick; and all from our Sixth corps were sent to hospitals in Hagerstown. At dark, we set out, and making a night march of a few miles, reached Williamsport, where we bivouacked and remained two days, and thence went to Boonsboro.

The march from Williamsport to Boonsboro led us through a magnificent country. On either side of the road, the long lines of corn shocks and the vine-clad houses, formed a picture of wealth and comfort. We halted at Boonsboro in sight of the field of Antietam, and passed our bi-monthly muster. At daybreak in the morning we were again on the road. The first part of our way led through a beautiful open country, but we were soon winding among the hills that form the slopes of "Pleasant Valley."

The forests on the hillsides, glowing with the brilliant colors of autumn, the fine old residences, appearing here and there among the trees, and the plethoric stacks of hay and grain, combined, indeed, to make it a "pleasant valley," and, as the lines of troops filed along the roads, the spectacle was beautifully picturesque. We passed South Mountain, where the rebels had met with such a bloody reception from our forces, and not long after we were on the ground of the battle of Burkettsville, where our Sixth corps had charged up the hill and had driven the enemy in confusion. Every tree bore lasting marks of a terrible fight. For more than a mile, the forest was completely scarred by bullets and shells; not a tree had escaped, and many of them were pierced like the cover of a pepper-box. We halted near Berlin, in a charming valley, where we staid over Sunday. Monday morning, we crossed the Potomac to Virginia, on pontoon bridges, passed through the little towns of Lovettsville and Purcellville, Union Town and Upperville, then crossing the valley almost from west to east, from the Blue Ridge to the Kittoctan mountains, at length, on Thursday, reached White Plains, a station on the Front Royal and Manassas railroad, not far from Thoroughfare Gap. Here we were overtaken by a cold storm of rain, sleet and snow, gloomy enough, but not so gloomy as was the news that here reached us of the elections in New York. Whatever the attitude of the political parties may have been before or since that time in reference to the war, in our army the result of the New York elections was regarded, at that time, as a repudiation of the war.

We reached New Baltimore on the 9th, and the next morning we were notified that, by order of the President, General McClellan was relieved from the command of the army of the Potomac, to be superseded by Major-General Burnside.

No sooner had the farewell order of General McClellan been read to the troops, than the whole army was ordered into line for review by corps. The retiring and the incoming generals, each with his long train of followers, galloped along the whole of the line of the army, while batteries fired salutes and bands played "The Star Spangled Banner" and "Hail to the Chief." Many of the regiments cheered the departing general with great enthusiasm, while others observed a studied silence.

A week was spent at New Baltimore, and then another week on the banks of Aquia creek, not far from Stafford Court House.

The 27th of November was Thanksgiving day, in nearly all the loyal States, and doubtless our friends at home, as they gathered in many a family circle that day, to partake bounteous Thanksgiving dinners, spoke of those who were away at the war, and thought, that with them, Thanksgiving could only be a hard day's march in the rain or mud, with rations of hard bread and pork; and so, many kind hearts pitied the soldiers as they thought that we were deprived of the luxuries which they were enjoying.

But we, too, enjoyed a pleasant Thanksgiving. In the morning, throughout the corps, there was brigade inspection; we put on our good clothes and presented ourselves to our generals, looking our best; then as we marched back into the various camps, we found dinner smoking in many a cook-tent, and the odor of roast meats rising throughout the whole corps like an odor of sweet incense. Fresh sheep pelts hanging here and there in considerable profusion, told of good cheer among all the men.

As evening approached, the voice of singing was heard from all the camps, and groups were gathered under the shadow of the chestnut trees, where many pairs of government shoes were shuffling to the music of violins. Throughout the limits of the corps, good humor and mirth prevailed; the sick forgot their pains, and the homesick ones, for the time, looked bright, as they yielded to the general feeling of happiness.

General Burnside, immediately upon taking command, consolidated the army into three grand divisions, of two corps each. The Right, to consist of the Second corps, General Couch, and the Ninth, General Wilcox; General Sumner to command the grand division. General Hooker was placed in command of the Center division, which consisted of the Third corps, General Stoneman, and the Fifth, General Butterfield. The Left grand division consisted of the Sixth corps, under General Smith, and the First corps, under General Reynolds; General Franklin was assigned to the command.

The command of the Second division, Sixth corps, was given to Brigadier-General A. P. Howe.

At length, we resumed our march, reaching Brooks' Station the first night; then, after a day's delay, we started again. The weather was intensely cold, and the mud almost unfathomable. The troops, with much difficulty, moved about six miles, reaching the rear of Falmouth Station, opposite Fredericksburgh; but the trains, at midnight, had only proceeded two miles. In the ambulances, the sick suffered beyond description. Six soldiers from the Third brigade, Second division, died in the ambulances that night. Even the well men in camp could hardly manage to keep warm. Few persons in that vast army slept, and the ring of hundreds of axes and the falling of trees, which were to be piled on the fires, were heard all night.

The Right and Center grand divisions, had arrived in the vicinity of Falmouth several days before; and it had been the design of General Burnside to cross his army over the Rappahannock, seize the heights of Fredericksburgh, and push on toward Richmond, before the enemy could throw a sufficiently strong force in his front, to offer serious resistance. In this, doubtless, he would have been successful, but "some one had blundered," and the Commander-in-Chief suffered the mortification of seeing his plans foiled, and his series of forced marches a failure, because the pontoons which were to meet him on his arrival before Fredericksburgh were still at Washington; and this through the criminal neglect of some one. This campaign, which promised more than any previous campaign of the Army of the Potomac, was now destined to prove a failure.

From the time that the first troops appeared in front of Fredericksburgh, nearly three weeks were spent in waiting for pontoons; while General Lee had abundant time to bring together all his forces and post them in such positions, as to dispute our passage at any point, for twenty miles up and down the river. In guarding this extensive front, General Lee had stretched out his army to such an extent, that Burnside hoped, by throwing his whole army across at one point, to pierce the weak line before his enemy could concentrate his forces.

On the morning of the 11th of December, we marched to a point about two miles below Fredericksburgh. The whole army was in motion. The ground had become hardened by frost, and a light coating of snow lay upon it. The wheels no longer sunk in the mire; but artillery rolled easily over the frozen ground.

The Right grand division, Sumner's, had already taken its position immediately in front and above the city of Fredericksburgh; the Center, Hooker's, and the Left division, Franklin's, now took position below the town.

As we descended from the heights of Stafford, into the valley of the Rappahannock, dense clouds of fog obscured the view of the opposite bank, and it was only at noon that we could distinguish objects on the farther side of the river. Engineers were hard at work laying pontoon bridges, being submitted to a brisk musketry fire from the rebel skirmishers, who at times charged upon them, killing and wounding several of the workmen, and greatly hindering the work. A few volleys from our batteries, which were brought forward presently, put these troublesome parties to flight, and the work went on. Still, during all the day, the enemy strove with artillery and infantry to prevent the laying of the bridge, but to no avail.

On the right, where the veteran Sumner commanded, the task of throwing the bridges across, was far more difficult than at the lower crossing. In the storehouses and dwellings along the banks of the river, swarms of rebel soldiers were concealed; and these, by pouring murderous volleys into the midst of the pontoniers, compelled them to desist from the attempt to finish their bridge. Determined no longer to be thwarted by these concealed foes, General Burnside, having previously notified the civil authorities of the town, that if the houses were used as covers for men who were shooting our soldiers, the town must suffer the consequences, ordered our batteries to concentrate their fire upon it and batter down the walls. Soon after noon, the bombardment commenced. One hundred and seventy cannon belched forth the huge iron missiles upon the devoted city. The roar of the artillery was terrific, and as the winds rolled away the huge columns of smoke, we saw that the city was on fire, the flames leaping to the skies. The spectacle was one of awful grandeur. The bursting bombs, shooting forth their flashing coruscations from the columns of smoke, the great tongues of flame from the burning buildings, leaping to the heavens, the clamor of the bursting shells and the shock of the artillery which shook the earth, made up one of the most terribly magnificent of scenes.

In the midst of all this direful tumult, and while the conflagration of the city drove the confederates out of their places of concealment, Sumner's forces succeeded in laying their bridge and crossing troops; not, however, until two brave regiments had crossed in boats and captured or dispersed the rebel sharpshooters, who had given so much trouble. Hooker also effected a crossing at the same time. We had now bridges across at three points; "Franklin's Crossing" being nearly two miles below the town.

The city of Fredericksburgh is upon the south bank of the Rappahannock river. Fronting the city, on the north side of the stream, rises a steep bluff—Stafford Heights—which approaches near the river above and opposite the town, and gradually recedes from it below. This was the side held by our army. Behind the town, on the south, the ground rises in several successive terraces until it reaches an elevation called "the mountain." Each terrace commands all below it, and the whole forms a position of unsurpassed advantages for defense. Here, between these high grounds, and stretching on either side of the river, is the valley of the Rappahannock—almost a level plain of six miles in length, and averaging two and a half miles in breadth, narrowing in front of the town to less than a mile, and spreading out, at the point where our lower bridges were thrown across, to at least three miles. On the crest of the heights, north of the river, were posted our batteries in great numbers. On the plain and on each of the terraces south of the river, the enemy was intrenched in most formidable positions.

The advance of the enemy fell back, as our forces crossed the river, leaving us in possession of the plain on both sides, and of the town. Night came on, and the spectacle was unutterably grand, as the sheets of fire burst from the mouths of the opposing batteries; but at length the roar of battle subsided, and except the firing of pickets, all was quiet. Franklin threw but a small force across the river; a strong picket line, well supported, holding a semi-circular tract of the plain. The Eighteenth and Thirty-first New York were the first of the Sixth corps to cross the bridge.

The Sixth corps returned to the heights and bivouacked for the night, leaving a few regiments to hold the plain in front of the bridge. It was the intention of the commanding general to press the enemy closely in front with the Right and Center grand divisions, while the Left division was to make a flank movement on the right of the enemy's line, seizing the road to Bowling Green, and rendering the rebel position untenable.

Before dawn on the following morning, we made our way again to the river. Thousands crowded upon the banks, or hurriedly dashed across the bridge. The rumble of wheels upon the frozen ground, the tramp of thousands of men, the neighing of innumerable horses, mingled with the roar of musketry. The sun rose in splendor, and the spires of the city, two miles to our right, shone brightly, for only the lower part of the town had been destroyed by the conflagration of the day before, and tens of thousands of muskets gleamed in the morning light. The broad plain, on the south bank, swarmed with the hosts of Franklin and Hooker. Musketry fire became more and more brisk, as our forces moved into position, but no general engagement came on. Shells from the rebel batteries came bursting in our midst, and in reply, our own guns on Stafford Heights sent their shells screaming over our heads, to burst in the midst of the rebel artillerists.

A fine stone mansion of large dimensions, situated on the south bank of the river, and a little below the bridge, was taken by the surgeons of our Second division, for a hospital. The position was exposed to the rebel fire, but it was the best that could be found. Just in front of it the gallant General Bayard, of the cavalry, was struck by a shell, and killed instantly. Others, some of whom had been previously been wounded, received fatal shots at the very doors of the house. The owner of this magnificent mansion still remained in it. He was an old secesh bachelor, very aristocratic in his notions, and highly incensed at the use his house was put to by the "hireling Yankees." But he was taken care of by a guard. His servants cooked for the wounded and our surgeons; his fine larder furnished us delicacies and his cellar rich old wines.

Doubtless his feelings on delivering to us the keys of his wine cellar were not unlike those of Sir Hugh Berkley in "The Wagoner;" who

"—only knew they drank his wine; Would they might hang, a scarecrow line, On the next lightning blasted tree."

Saturday, the sun appeared, bright and warm as on a spring morning. The battle now commenced in terrible earnest. First, on the left, the booming of heavy guns and the rattle of musketry told of hot work in our own front. Then gradually the battle rolled on to the right; and while it thundered there, our forces on the left remained comparatively quiet. Then, back again came the roar of cannon, the shrieking and cracking of shells and the din of musketry.

The hills in our front were thickly wooded, and in these woods "Stonewall" Jackson had concealed his forces. General Meade, with his division of Pennsylvania reserves, and Gibbons, with his division, both of Reynolds' First corps, were sent to take and hold the Bowling Green road, which lay in the edge of the wood. Gallantly and in splendid order, the two divisions moved up toward the edge of the wood. Gibbons' division halted at the railroad, near the wood, Meade's pressed forward, and presently disappeared among the trees. Although considerable resistance was met with, the gallant division continued to press forward, the rebels steadily giving way. Suddenly, the roar of cannon became awful, and the fire of musketry almost deafening. The rebels had opened an enfilading fire upon the division, which made fearful havoc. The men who had so gallantly marched into the woods, came hurrying back in disorder; not, however, until they had succeeded in capturing several hundred prisoners from the enemy. A flag, one or two mounted officers, and a squad of a dozen or twenty men were all that could be recognized as a regimental organization; all others had fallen before the deadly fire that met them, or had lost their commands. The men quickly rallied about their flags and again charged into the woods, and again they were sent back in disorder. They were now withdrawn, and the rebels charged upon the line of the Sixth corps. The troops of our Second division were lying down behind a slight elevation of ground, and, as the rebels charged down furiously upon us, our men suddenly rose and poured a deadly volley into them. At the same time the troops of the First division met their attack with spirit, and sent them reeling back to their cover in the forest.

The wounded poured into our hospitals, and well did those surgeons, who had seized the stone mansion, earn that day, lasting gratitude from their division.

Never had wounded men been so quickly or so well cared for. It was the beginning of an era of organized labor in that department. Among the earliest of the wounded was General Vinton, commanding the Third brigade, Second division. A ball had passed into the abdomen, and was cut out from his back. The unfortunate men were stowed in every part of the great house, and in the smaller buildings surrounding it, and tents furnished shelter for those unable to find room in the buildings. After General Vinton was wounded, Brigadier-General Thomas H. Neill was ordered to assume the command of our brigade, which he did on the battle-field.

Meanwhile, on the right, Sumner's and Hooker's forces were striving, with herculean efforts, to dislodge the enemy from his strongholds, but to no avail. His position was impregnable, and the Union forces only advanced against the works to meet with deadly repulse from the savage fire of the concealed foe, and to fall back with fearful losses. Thus the struggle lasted until evening, when the roar of battle was hushed, and our tired troops slumbered upon their arms.

On Sunday morning the rattle of musketry and the thunder of artillery commenced again, but, as little reply was made by the enemy, the demonstration on our part soon ceased, and the day was spent in comparative quiet. It was said that General Burnside, unwilling to give up the struggle, had ordered an advance of the Ninth corps, which he was personally to lead, against one of the rebel strongholds, but that he had yielded to the advice of the grand division commanders to refrain from the attempt.

Monday still found us on the battle-field. The thumping of artillery was renewed, but not fiercely. Our wounded were removed to the other side of the river. A kind providence had favored them, for the weather had been delightful. Had such weather prevailed as we experienced a few days before, many of the wounded, faint and exhausted from the loss of blood, must have perished with the cold. During the night the whole army was withdrawn, with as much secrecy as possible, across the pontoon bridges. No sooner had the troops crossed to the north side of the river than the bridges were taken up, and the two armies were again separated by the Rappahannock. As the bridges were being taken up, the rebels rushed to the bank and fired into the pontoniers, but were repelled by the men of the Seventy-seventh New York. That regiment formed a picket line along the bank of the river, but were ordered not to fire unless the enemy did. "A pretty order," said Terry Gray, of Company B, "to wait till a man is killed before he can fire his gun!" The army went into camp on a line from Falmouth to Belle Plain; the Sixth corps occupying nearly the center of the line, at a place called White Oak Church, from a little whitewashed meeting house, without bell or steeple, in the midst of a clump of white oak trees.

The attempt to capture the heights of Fredericksburgh by a direct assault was indeed a daring undertaking, and one involving a fearful risk. The only hope of success lay in the active and hearty cooeperation of all the commands of the army. Such cooeperation was not to be had. To the Left grand division was assigned an important work which it failed to accomplish; not because it was defeated in the attempt, but because the attempt was not made in earnest. The troops were brave and eager to meet the enemy. None were ever more brave or more desirous to test their valor. The heroic deeds of those who did advance against the enemy will ever redound to the glory of our arms; and had all the forces of the Left grand division been brought fairly into action, the result might have been different. Surely such troops as composed the grand old Sixth corps were fitted for a nobler work than standing upon an open plain, exposed to fierce artillery fire, without ever being allowed to turn upon the enemy. Our defeat had cost us more than twelve thousand men, in killed, wounded and missing.



CHAPTER XVI.

THE WINTER AT FALMOUTH.

Camp at White Oak Church—"The mud march"—Return to camp—General Neill—General Hooker supersedes General Burnside—Burnside's magnanimity—General Hooker as a soldier—Reconstruction—The cavalry organized—Business departments renovated—The medical department—Ambulance system—Quartermasters' and commissary departments—Life in camp—Snowball battles—In the Seventy-seventh—The Light division—Review by General Hooker—General John Sedgwick—Scene at head-quarters—Review of the army by the President—Preparing for the campaign.

The men built huts, and made themselves as comfortable as they could, in their camp at White Oak Church, but disease spread rapidly, especially among the recruits. The regiments were crowded closely together on ground too low and wet for good camping ground, and the men, having never before erected winter quarters from shelter tents, were not so expert as they became in the succeeding winters; so they suffered from inconvenient quarters, as well as from the low ground and crowded camps.



Our army was now composed in large part, of the recruits sent from the north during the preceding summer and autumn, and thousands of these had never had any idea of fighting or of suffering the privations of army life. They had enlisted for the large bounties which were paid at that time, with the determination to leave the service as soon as their bounties were paid, and a favorable opportunity offered itself for escape. Desertions became alarmingly frequent; indeed, when a few weeks later General Hooker assumed command, there were more than eighty-four thousand absentees, with and without authority. The great number of desertions, we think, should be attributed to the fact that so large a proportion of the new recruits had enlisted for money, rather than to the demoralization of the army.

Notwithstanding the inconveniences to which the men were subjected, and the advance to midwinter, the weather was in our favor. The sun shone brightly, the days were warm and the roads dry. It became evident that General Burnside was determined not to allow the delightful weather and the excellent roads to pass unimproved. Indications of a general movement crowded upon us, and on the 20th of January came the order to march.

The whole army broke camp and moved toward Banks' Ford, two miles up the river from White Oak Church. On the march, an order from the commanding general was read to the troops, announcing to them that the auspicious moment had at length arrived when we were to reap the glorious fruits of our long toils. At five o'clock we halted in the thick woods at Banks' Ford, the point selected for crossing the river, and in a few minutes were quietly and comfortably bivouacked out of sight of rebels on the opposite side. Scarcely had we settled ourselves for a comfortable night's rest, when the clouds, which had been gathering since morning, broke in rain, and the delightful Indian summer gave way to the rainy winter of the south. All night long the rain poured, and all the next day. It was evident we had waited too long. But the commander was determined not to abandon his effort to outflank the enemy. By morning, the roads were so softened by the rain, that horses could not haul artillery or pontoons into position. Men took the place of horses. The whole Vermont brigade was detailed to drag the pontoons and guns to the river. All day long, working and tugging with the mud above their knees; here a hundred men pulling at a pontoon boat, there a party prying a cannon out of the mire with long levers, and still other parties laying strips of corduroy road. The Vermonters passed a disagreeable day.

General Burnside was not idle all this while. Riding from one point to another, now personally superintending the placing of a battery in position on the bank of the river, now encouraging the men who lugged at the boats and guns, and now selecting places to cut new roads, he passed the night and the day in fatiguing and anxious labor. As he rode through the camp of our division in the afternoon, with only two staff officers, himself and his horse completely covered with mud, the rim of his hat turned down to shed the rain, his face careworn with this unexpected disarrangement of his plans, we could but think that the soldier on foot, arm oppressed with the weight of knapsack, haversack and gun, bore an easy load compared with that of the commander of the army, who now saw departing his hopes of redeeming the prestige he had lost at Fredericksburgh.

Men were detailed from each of the regiments of the corps to return to Falmouth, a distance of five miles, to bring on their backs two days' rations; those brought by the men being nearly exhausted. But during the night it was determined to abandon the attempt to cross the river. The enemy, by this time fully aware of our intention, was prepared for us, and a crossing could only be made at great sacrifice, perhaps with defeat. So at sunrise in the morning we were on the road back to our old camp; this time for permanent winter quarters. All along the road lay a multitude of dead horses and mules, which had fallen in the tremendous but unavailing efforts of the day before. Artillery and wagons still stuck fast in the mud, and cannoniers and teamsters lifted and tugged with rails and with poles to raise the piece or the wagon from the mire.

The mud was deep, the day was gloomy and the men were discouraged. They straggled badly. Regiments were not to be distinguished. The whole column became an unorganized crowd, pressing toward the old camps. Tired and discouraged as were the men, they kept up their lively sallies and jokes, as though all was smooth work. Toward evening the troops of our corps arrived on their old ground, now to be our home until the opening of spring, and at once fell to work to restore to some degree of comfort that most desolate of scenes, an abandoned camp. Unfortunately, on leaving the place, little thinking that they were so soon to return, they had burned everything combustible, and thus a strip of board or a piece of timber could hardly be found within the limits of the corps. Nevertheless, comfortable quarters were soon erected, and the routine of drills and picket was resumed.

Brigadier-General Neill, who was assigned to the command of the Third brigade, was active in encouraging his men to provide good quarters, and in furnishing every facility in his power to make them comfortable. The general was a portly gentleman, with light red hair and whiskers, and a small blue eye, ceremonious in his style, and a perfect pattern of courtliness. He had, at West Point, won the appellation of "Beau Neill," a title which never left him. He was a good commander in camp. He originated the brigade dress parade that winter, often calling out the brigade on fine evenings, and substituting the brigade for the regimental parade. The custom was at length adopted in many brigades in the army of the Potomac; but few gave credit for the improved parade to the originator of it.

The second failure of General Burnside rendered his removal from the command of the army a thing to be expected; and no one was surprised when the order came relieving him, and assigning General Hooker to the command. It must be confessed that our failure at Bank's Ford had done much to demoralize the army and destroy the confidence in the commanding general so absolutely necessary to success. On our way back from Bank's Ford, as we passed Fredericksburgh, we saw huge placards posted up by the rebels with taunting inscriptions, such as "Burnside stuck in the mud," printed in conspicuous letters. The men caught up the words, and "Burnside stuck in the mud" passed from one end of the disordered column to the other. When we had failed at Fredericksburgh, the men were as willing as ever to try again under the same commander. They believed him to be at least earnest and brave. They knew that he was noble and self-sacrificing. In the noble letter to General Halleck, in which he assumed all the responsibility for the failure at Fredericksburgh, they found renewed assurance that he had all the qualities of a true soldier—bravery, integrity and true manhood; but an army must have success, or it cannot long repose confidence in the general. So, while the Army of the Potomac regarded General Burnside with great respect, it gladly welcomed the advent of "Fighting Joe Hooker" to the command.

General Hooker had fairly won the title of "Fighting Joe" at the slaughter of Williamsburgh, where, almost single-handed with his division, he had stemmed the tide of battle for hours, until reinforced by Kearney, and then, with the help of that hero, had held the whole rebel army until it was outflanked by our Second division.

In all the battles of the Peninsula he had been conspicuous, and at South Mountain and Antietam his fighting propensities were exhibited in more than their wonted splendor. In person he was of large stature, with fine features, brilliant eye, his side whiskers and ruddy countenance giving a more youthful appearance than his light gray hair would indicate. His gleaming eye told of the spirit which animated the man, and his determined air betokened the persistent and fearless soldier. In battle or on review he rode a magnificent milk white steed, a powerful animal and of extraordinary fleetness. Mounted on this superb war horse, he was the most conspicuous, as he was always one of the handsomest men in the army.

The energy of the new commander soon began to be manifested in the reconstruction and reorganization of the whole army. The first step in the progress of reconstruction, was the revocation of the order making three grand divisions of the army. By the abolition of the grand divisions, Generals Sumner and Franklin were relieved from their commands; and the corps commanders, no longer subject to intermediate commanders, were again directly responsible to the general-in-chief of the army. Doubtless General Hooker had seen that the creation of these grand divisions had much to do with the failures of General Burnside.

The cavalry next engaged the attention of the general. The whole force was thoroughly reorganized and put in an efficient condition, under command of Major-General Stoneman. Hereafter, men were not to ask, "Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?" To General Hooker, the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac owes its efficiency and the glorious record it from that time made for itself.

The superiority of the rebel cavalry, in the early part of the war, was generally attributed to the supposed fact that the young men of the south were so much better horsemen than those of the north. In reality, this had little, if anything, to do with it. It is even very doubtful if there was any difference in favor of the superior horsemanship of the southern cavalry. Their strength lay in their union. The rebel cavalry was organized from the beginning; ours was an incoherent mass of men, having no proper relations or dependencies within itself. From the day that it became organized, the superiority of the rebel cavalry passed away forever. We had always better horses, and our men were certainly never inferior to the rebels. All that was needed was the proper combination of action; and, as soon as this was secured, our cavalry became the finest in the world.

The business departments were also thoroughly renovated. The changes in the medical, quartermasters' and commissary departments were such as to bring each to a standard of perfection, which had never before been reached by those departments of any army in the field. No army had ever been provisioned as was ours that winter. Soft bread, potatoes, beets, carrots, onions, fresh beef, flour, sugar and coffee, constituted the regular rations of the men, and facilities were afforded for procuring luxuries not in the regular supply.

The medical department became so thoroughly systematized, that wounded and sick men were cared for better than they had ever been in an army before. This radical change had commenced under General Burnside; but was perfected under General Hooker, by the efficient and earnest medical director of the army, Dr. Letterman; to whom belongs the honor of bringing about this most desirable change.

By the new system, the surgeons were enabled to accomplish a far greater amount of work, and in much better order than under the old; and the wounded were better and more quickly cared for. By this system the hospital of the division was the unit. From the division, a medical officer of good executive ability was selected, to whom was assigned the general oversight of the hospital. One or more surgeons of well known skill and experience were detailed from the medical force of the division, who were known as "operating surgeons;" to each of whom was assigned three assistants, also known to be skillful men, who were either surgeons or assistant surgeons. To the operating surgeons all cases requiring surgical operations were brought, and thus the wounded men had the benefit of the very best talent and experience in the division, in the decision of the question whether he should be submitted to the use of the knife, and in the performance of the operation in case one was required. It was a mistaken impression among those at home, that each medical officer was the operating surgeon for his own men. Only about one in fifteen of the medical officers was intrusted with operations.

From each brigade an assistant surgeon was detailed to provide food and shelter for the wounded. His duty was to superintend the erection of hospital tents as soon as there was a prospect of an engagement, and to have hot coffee and rations of food ready for the wounded as soon as they came to the hospital; he was to attend to their clothing, bedding and rations as long as they remained in the hospital.

Another assistant surgeon from each brigade was selected to keep the records; to take the name and character of wound of every one who was brought to the hospital, with the operation, if any; and the list of deaths, the place of burial, and all other matters necessary to record. An assistant surgeon was to remain with each regiment, and attend to getting the wounded from the field into the ambulances, and to arrest hemorrhage in case of necessity.

Thus, all labor was systematized. Every officer and nurse knew exactly what to do: each had his own part of the work assigned to him, and there was no conflicting of orders or clashing of opinions.

Our ambulance system was also very perfect—so complete, indeed, that, after a year of trial in the Army of the Potomac, congress adopted it as the ambulance system of the United States. To Doctor Letterman, also, belongs the honor of originating this system.

The ambulances of each corps were under command of a captain, who acted under directions from the medical director of the corps. A lieutenant commanded the ambulances of a division, and a second lieutenant those of a brigade. To each ambulance was assigned a driver, and two stretcher-bearers; and to three ambulances a sergeant, mounted. The ambulances of a division always went together, behind the division, and on the march were attended by a surgeon, an assistant surgeon, a hospital steward, a cook, and three or more nurses, who were to attend to the wants of the sick in the ambulances, and at night, if any were unable to return to their regiments, to erect tents for them, and supply them with food and bedding. In an engagement, the stretcher-bearers of each regiment, with the sergeant, reported to the assistant surgeon in attendance with the regiment. As soon as a man was wounded, he was brought to the medical officer, put into an ambulance, and taken to the division hospital. By this means, ordinarily, every man was carried to the hospital of his own division.

The improvements in the quartermasters' department were nearly as great; and we have already alluded to the abundant supplies furnished by the commissary department.

Great difficulty was experienced by the troops of our corps in getting wood. The men of our Second division lugged wood on their backs a mile and a half, with which to do their cooking and warm their tents. But notwithstanding the hardships they endured, the inclemency of the winter, and their severe picket duty, the men were gay. In many of the regiments, the sounds of the guitar and accordion could be heard every evening; and on pleasant afternoons and evenings, parties assembled in the company streets and danced cotillions, and polkas, and jigs, to the music of violins. When snow covered the ground, mimic battles with snowballs were a frequent amusement. At times, one regiment would challenge another, and a general melee would follow. Snowballing was, particularly, a favorite amusement with our friends of the Twenty-first New Jersey, who never let an opportunity pass for indulging in their favorite sport. Each party carried its flags and was led by officers chosen for the occasion. The capture of a flag, or of a number of prisoners, from an opposite party, caused great glee among the victors. A good deal of interest was excited throughout the Second division by a snowball battle between one of the Vermont regiments and the Twenty-sixth New Jersey. Both regiments formed in line of battle, each officered by its line and field officers, the latter mounted. At the signal, the battle commenced; charges and counter-charges were made, prisoners were taken on either side, the air was filled with the white missiles, and stentorian cheers went up as one or other party gained an advantage. At length victory rested with the Vermonters, and the Jersey boys surrendered the field, defeated.

Another favorite amusement in the corps was the game of base ball. There were many excellent players in the different regiments, and it was common for the ball-players of one regiment or brigade to challenge another regiment or brigade. These matches were watched by great crowds of soldiers with intense interest.

In our Seventy-seventh regiment, matters went on much the same as in other regiments of the corps. We had our share of disease and desertions. We had our ball-players and our violinists; our singers and our story-tellers, as every regiment had. At regimental head-quarters, matters went on gaily. It was the custom of the officers of the field and staff to collect in one of the tents as evening came on, and, in company with friends from other regiments, pass the hours in lively converse, in singing and relating amusing stories.

We had a glee book and an old copy of the "Carmina Sacra," and then our friend, Colonel, now Major-General, Connor, was never at a loss for a song, and Colonel French often displayed his genius with the violin, and our friend, the chaplain, could always tell a good story or perpetrate a joke. Chaplain Norman Fox was an accession to our staff, who joined us when we first encamped at White Oak Church. He was a gentleman of enterprise and talent, who, soon after his arrival in camp, instituted a series of religious meetings on week days, in addition to the regular services of the Sabbath, and a good deal of religious interest was awakened among the men.

Among other changes, we lost one of our most valuable and beloved officers. Dr. Campbell, who had for weeks been declining in health, was obliged to resign. The doctor was a most genial and companionable man, and an excellent officer. We greatly missed his hearty laugh, his fund of stories and ready wit in our social gatherings. The doctor was afterward appointed surgeon of the Fortieth New York, but was attacked with spotted fever, from which he recovered only after a long illness, during which he again resigned.

The First brigade, Second division, which for some time past had been under command of General Calvin A. Pratt, was broken up, and a new brigade, called the "Light division," was formed from the regiments of the First brigade, and one regiment from each the First and Third divisions. The regiments were, the Fifth Wisconsin, the Sixth Maine, the Thirty-first and Forty-third New York, and the Sixty-first Pennsylvania. Colonel Burnham, of the Sixth Maine, was placed in command.

Among other reviews in the Sixth corps during the winter, was one by General Hooker, of our Second division and the Light division. The troops were formed in line, and the general and staff were escorted to the ground by the Twentieth New York, of Neill's brigade, in splendid style. The regiment was composed entirely of German Turners. Their drill surpassed that of any regiment of regulars, and the exquisite neatness they displayed in their dress and in the care of their equipments, together with the perfection of their movements, made them the finest appearing regiment in the service, when on parade. It is to be regretted that the prestige of the regiment was not always sustained on the battle-field. As the regiment and cavalcade appeared on the field, it was a brilliant pageant; first came our brigade band, one of the finest in the army, then the pioneers of the Twentieth, their axes, shovels and picks polished so that they glistened in the sunlight like burnished silver; then the Twentieth regiment, in column by company, marching with step as perfect as though all were directed by a single will; following the regiment, rode General Hooker on his superb white horse, a head and shoulders above all his cavalcade. The immense suite, consisting of General Hooker's own staff, and a large number of major-generals and their staffs, completed the brilliant column. The division was drawn up in a line, stretching a half a mile across the field, straight as the flight of an arrow, with artillery on either flank. The general and his brilliant retinue, rode to the right of the line, and advanced slowly along the front of the whole division, inspecting closely each regiment as he passed, the bands playing "Hail to the Chief," the colors dipping, and the bugles pealing notes of welcome. Having passed the entire front of the line, the chief now rode at a rapid pace along its rear to the point of beginning. He then, with his attendants, took a position on a slight elevation of ground at a distance from the line, when the whole division, in column, marching to the place, passed in review before him, and the pageant was ended.

An important change in the command of our corps occurred about this time. General Smith, who had so long commanded our division, and for some time past our Sixth corps, was relieved of his command, and ordered to the department of North Carolina. His successor was General John Sedgwick, then well known as one of our best division commanders, and one of the sternest soldiers in the Army of the Potomac. Bred as a soldier, he had served with great distinction in Mexico, and at the breaking out of the rebellion he had joined the Union army, and was soon placed in command of a division in Sumner's corps, which, under his command, became the best division of the corps, as the Sixth corps became the best in the army. Modest and retiring in his ordinary intercourse with his fellows, he exhibited the most brilliant qualities in time of battle. The dignity of his bearing fitted him to command, and he needed not the insignia of rank to command the deference of those about him.

None who witnessed the farewell reception of General Smith, will forget the scene at corps head-quarters. The two generals, the old and loved leader of the Second division and of the corps, and the new commander, stood side by side. General Smith, tall, well dressed, his regulation coat buttoned closely about him, his easy and graceful manner and conversation; General Sedgwick, of stouter build, wearing a loose blouse and coarse blue pants, such as are furnished the private soldier, strong and manly in his appearance, and somewhat abrupt in his manner. Officers returned to their camps satisfied that although the corps had lost a favorite commander, it had also gained a brave leader.

One of the grand events of the winter was the review of the whole army by President Lincoln. The review continued two days. The first was occupied in reviewing the Second, Fifth, Sixth and Third corps; the second of the remaining corps. It was a most imposing spectacle, never to be forgotten by those who were actors or spectators. The President, in his civilian's dress and tall hat, accompanied by General Hooker, and followed by an immense suite, was welcomed by the thundering of artillery as it fired the national salute. The different corps were drawn up in line, each occupying a plain within sight of the others. Riding in front of the corps, the President and the immense cavalcade passed along the whole line, inspecting carefully each regiment, then returned in the rear. This inspection over, the President and staff stationed themselves in some favorable position, and the whole corps passed in review before him. The same process was repeated with each corps.

How one unaccustomed to such physical fatigues could endure such labor, commencing early in the morning and only resting at dark, was a wonder. It seemed as if the President's physical, like his mental constitution, could bear up under the most trying and continued labors. As the warm weather of spring appeared, the men adorned their camps with evergreen trees and beautiful arches, so that the camps presented a pleasant appearance; but we had little time to enjoy these, for as soon as the roads began to be passable, preparations were pushed forward for the spring campaign.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE CHANCELLORSVILLE CAMPAIGN.

Orders to move—The river crossed—Sedgwick's command—The First corps withdrawn—Gallant conduct of the Light division—Advancing to the heights—The line of battle—The columns of attack—Attack of Howe's columns—Of Newton's column—Of Burnham's—Misfortune following victory—Fight of Bartlett's brigade—The First division at work—A critical position—The Sixth corps surrounded—Savage fight of Neill's brigade—The corps withdraws to Banks' Ford—Recrosses the river—Hooker's operations on the right—Position of the corps—Rout of the Eleventh corps—The rebels repulsed—Jackson renews the attack—The rebels again repulsed—Hooker recrosses the river.

On Tuesday, the 28th of April, the Sixth corps received orders to break up its camp and be ready to march at a moment's notice. Eight days' rations had been issued to the men, who were in the highest spirits, having forgotten all their former discouragements, and were now only anxious for an encounter with the enemy. A storm of rain of some violence set in on the morning of the 28th, which rendered marching difficult. At twelve o'clock we received the order to "fall in," and in five minutes we were on our way to take our place in the line of battle. A march of six miles through thickets and bogs, brought us to the rear of Falmouth Station, at a short distance from the river. Here we bivouacked for the night, and were awakened before daylight in the morning by the sound of artillery and musketry at the river, where Russell's brigade, of the First division, was forcing a passage across the stream. The Second division only had been allowed to rest quietly during the night. The men of the Light brigade had toiled from dark until nearly dawn, carrying the pontoon boats on their shoulders to the river side, and launching them in the stream. So noiselessly had they conducted their operations, that the pickets of the enemy took no alarm until they suddenly saw the braves of Russell's brigade approaching in the boats, just as dawn was breaking. The astonished confederates fired a few volleys of musketry, and our guns threw among them a few charges of cannister, and the rebels fled precipitately. A number of prisoners were captured, among them the officer of the picket-guard. Colonel Irwin, of the Forty-ninth Pennsylvania, who had, at Antietam, commanded the Third brigade of the Second division, was among the wounded on our side.

At sunrise the Second division filed down to the river side, and took position in line of battle. Our horses cropped the green blades which had sprung from the grain scattered for their food nearly five months before. The division was upon the very spot where it lay before, at the first battle of Fredericksburgh. The bridge also was in the same place that Franklin's bridge had been. The point was known as Franklin's Crossing.

The First division of our corps (Brook's) was on the other side of the river, holding the plain for some distance. The pickets of that division formed the half of a circle of about three-fourths of a mile in diameter, the center being at the pontoon bridge, where some earthworks were thrown up. At our left, about a mile down the river, the First corps had also effected a crossing. The rebels had offered strong resistance, but the crossing was gallantly accomplished by Wadsworth's division in boats. Like the First division of our own corps, Wadsworth's division was holding a semi-circular portion of the plateau; but being able to maintain the position by some fighting.

Sickles' Third corps was upon the high ground in the rear, ready to come to the assistance of the corps at the river. The three corps, First, Third and Sixth, were under command of General Sedgwick.

The rebels spent the day in throwing up intrenchments and shelling Reynolds' position. Toward night the artillery practice ceased, and the First and Sixth corps bivouacked where they had stood during the day, but Sickles and his corps were ordered to the assistance of Hooker, on the right.

The morning of the 30th was lowery, but the clouds dispersed as the day advanced. About noon the troops were massed by brigades, and a congratulatory order from General Hooker was read to them, amid great cheering. "The enemy," said the order, "must now come out and fight us on our ground, or retreat ingloriously." Nothing more of interest occurred that day; but, in the afternoon of the following day, the First corps became engaged in a fierce artillery duel with the enemy, in which the corps lost a large number of its men in killed and wounded. At sunset an order came from General Hooker, at Chancellorsville, for General Sedgwick to assume a threatening attitude—to make a severe demonstration—but to make no attack. There was much marching and getting into position, and regiments and divisions were marched and countermarched in such a manner as to convey to the rebels the impression that a grand attack was to be made at that point. The enemy was evidently deceived by these maneuvers, and heavy columns of rebel infantry commenced to form upon the old battle-field. While we stood in line of battle, one of our bands near the skirmish line struck up the air, "Dixie." The rebels, hearing the strains, set up defiant cheers, which were answered by our army in the most tremendous shouts imaginable. The contest seemed for the time to depend on strength of lung, and our boys certainly beat them at shouting.

As the sun disappeared behind the hills, when Hooker's guns were thundering, we retired to our tents. All day long the earth had been shaken by tremendous firing of artillery on the right; and now, as darkness gathered over the scenes of conflict, the thundering of the guns and the trembling of the earth seemed like a succession of earthquakes. The spirit of our boys rose, as the battle on the right progressed, and there seemed to be indications of work for them. Groups might be seen at any time, when we were not standing in line of battle, telling yarns, singing songs, playing ball and pitching quoits, while they momentarily looked for the order to advance upon the heights, into the very jaws of death.

Saturday morning, May 2d, the First corps was withdrawn from its position; its bridges were taken up, and the corps moved past us up the river to join the main body of the army under Hooker, on the right. The Seventy-seventh was sent to do picket duty on the ground occupied by the First corps the night before. Our reserve was posted a little way from the river, in a pleasant field, where the fresh clover furnished a soft bed for the men, and a dainty bite for our horses. Just in front of us was a lovely spot—the residence of Doctor Morson, for fifteen years a surgeon in the United States navy. The place was in remarkable order; the gardens in full bloom, the mocking birds building their nests, and the greenlets warbling sweetly among the flowering shrubs.

We strolled along the banks of the beautiful river, gathering flowers and glancing at our "secesh" neighbors on the opposite bank, only a few yards distant; or we lounged in the shade of our tents, enjoying the charms of a lovely May day, while the terrible din of battle on the right, where Hooker's forces were contending, shook the ground beneath us, and we knew that ere the sun set, thousands of our brave comrades must be sacrificed.

As the evening drew near, we who were on the north side of the river saw our skirmishers, of the "Light division", drive back the skirmish line of the enemy. It was a gallant feat, and finely executed. Our hearts leaped for joy as we watched our brave fellows, their line as perfect as though on drill, advance, firing rapidly, and pressing the enemy at "double-quick." They made no halt until they had crossed the whole breadth of the plain and reached the base of the hills.

Few who were then in the Sixth corps will ever forget that scene. The sun, just sinking behind the hills where Hooker was at work, threw a beautiful golden light over the plain, and crowned the heights with brilliant hues. It was one of those evenings of surpassing loveliness, such as gladdened our hearts only at long intervals. Prominent in the foreground of the beautiful scene was a noble white steed, with its gallant rider, dashing from one end of the skirmish line to the other. None who witnessed the spectacle will forget the white horse and the fearless rider; and few of the Second or Light divisions need be reminded that the horseman was Colonel Baker, of the Forty-third New York, who was then in charge of the skirmish line.

The "Light division" was, as we have before stated, the First brigade of our Second division, with regiments from the First and Third divisions which had been, a short time before leaving camp, detached to form an independent organization. The arrangement was broken up immediately after this battle, and the regiments put in the First and Second divisions again.

Immediately after the brilliant advance of the "Light division," the Seventy-seventh regiment was ordered to leave the picket line and join its brigade. The Second division crossed the river and took position, the Third brigade in front, the Vermont brigade in rear. The Thirty-third and Forty-ninth New York, of the Third brigade, went forward as pickets in front of the hills, relieving pickets of the "Light division," which moved to the right. We remained in line all night, sometimes throwing ourselves upon the ground to catch a moment's sleep, then roused in expectancy of an advance.

At four o'clock in the morning we did advance. Straight across the plain we went, until we came nearly to the base of the heights, where the hosts of the enemy awaited us, then taking the Bowling Green road, filed to the right and proceeded to the rear of Fredericksburgh; the Seventy-seventh in front, the Twenty-first New Jersey, the Forty-ninth New York, Twentieth New York, Seventh Maine and Thirty-third New York, constituting the Third brigade, under command of General Neill, following in the order mentioned. Then came the Vermont brigade, Colonel L. A. Grant commanding; these two brigades forming the whole of Howe's (Second) division of the Sixth corps since the First brigade was detached.

As we gained the rear of the eastern part of the town, the batteries of the enemy opened upon us, and swarms of infantry rose up in our front and poured volleys of bullets into our ranks. The "Light division" and Newton's Third division of our corps had passed through the streets of the town, and were now on our right. The skirmishers from Wheaton's and Shaler's brigades had struck those of the enemy near a large mansion, where, each party dodging behind the garden fence, the cherry trees and the outhouses, they kept up a lively engagement for several minutes, but Newton's advance was forced to yield the ground.

In the meantime, the long line of rifled cannon which surmounted Stafford Heights, on the north side of the river, as at the first battle of Fredericksburgh, were throwing huge shells across the wide valley and stream into the works of the enemy. One or two field batteries near the head of our own column, and some attached to the other divisions, got into position and opened a fierce cannonade.

General Howe quickly formed his troops in line, as did the other division commanders.

The line of battle of the corps extended from the pontoon bridge at Franklin's Crossing to the right of the town of Fredericksburgh. First, on the left, Brooks' division held the plain in front of the crossing. Next, on the right, in front of Marye's Heights, was Howe's Second division; then the "Light division," Colonel Burnham; and on the extreme right was Newton's Third division. Gibbon's division of the Second corps, which, because its encampment was in plain view of the enemy, had been left behind, also crossed into the town by a bridge which it threw over, and took position on the right of the corps.

General Sedgwick, finding that the heights could only be carried by direct assault, directed storming columns to be formed in the Second and Third divisions and the Light division, which order was at once carried into execution.

In the Second division, General Howe directed General Neill to lead the advance. The plan of attack of the division was in two lines of battle of three regiments each.

The first line consisted of the Thirty-third New York, Colonel Taylor, the Seventh Maine, Colonel Connor, and the Twenty-first New Jersey, Colonel Van Houten, preceded by the Seventy-seventh New York, Colonel French, as skirmishers. The line was commanded by General Neill[1]. The second line consisted of the Sixth Vermont, Colonel Barney, the Twenty-sixth New Jersey, Colonel Morrison, and the Second Vermont, Colonel Walbridge, and was under command of Colonel L. A. Grant. Both lines were arranged from right to left, in the order above mentioned.

[1] "I was ordered to form three regiments as the advance of a column of assault against the heights of Marye's Hill, back of Fredericksburgh. I led the Thirty-third New York, Twenty-first New Jersey and Seventh Maine Volunteers, preceded by the Seventy-seventh New York, who were acting as skirmishers, under a heavy fire of shot and shell."—Neill's Report.

The Forty-ninth and Twentieth New York formed the right reserve, and the Third, Fourth and Fifth Vermont, under Colonel Seavor, the left reserve.

The next column was composed of the Seventh Massachusetts, Colonel Jones, and the Thirty-sixth New York, Colonel Walsh; both under the command of Colonel Jones—the Fifth Wisconsin, Colonel Allen, acting as skirmishers. Supporting the column, in line of battle, were the Sixth Maine, Colonel Harris, Thirty-first New York, Colonel Jones, and the Twenty-third Pennsylvania, Colonel Ely.

The right column of all consisted of the Forty-third New York, Colonel Baker, and the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, Colonel Spear—the two regiments under command of the latter officer, who fell, mortally wounded, while leading the charge. The Sixty-seventh New York, Colonel Cross, and the Eighty-second Pennsylvania, Major Bassett, under command of Colonel Shaler, supported this right column.

At half-past ten, the arrangements for storming the heights were completed, and Newton's batteries opened upon the enemy. At the sound of Newton's first gun, General Howe ordered his batteries to direct their fire upon the heights, and then ordered the storming column forward.

The division advanced toward the bold bluffs, which, bare of trees as well as the plain below, allowed the enemy an excellent view of all our movements. A railroad traversed the plain near the bluffs, and in a deep cut through which the road passed, were rebels. They rose up as we advanced, and poured showers of leaden hail into our line; but one of our batteries, getting an enfilading fire on the road, sent the gray-coated occupants hurriedly to the rear. For a moment we halted, the batteries on either side playing into each other with spirit.

It was a moment of contending emotions of pride, hope and sadness, as our gallant boys stood face to face with those heights, ready to charge upon them. At double-quick, and in splendid style, they crossed the plain. Our line was perfect. The men could not have made a more orderly appearance had they been on drill. Proud of their commands, Generals Howe and Neill, and Colonel Grant, cheered the men onward, while Lieutenant-Colonel French, in charge of the skirmish line, inspired, by his own intrepid behavior, the utmost confidence and bravery in his men. They took the matter as coolly as though on parade.

Just in rear of the division, three batteries of Parrott guns were playing into the works of the enemy, while from the heights above, all the opposing batteries poured a terrible and destructive fire upon the advancing lines. Having gained the rifle pits at the base of the hills, they pushed forward to capture the heights.



A more grand spectacle cannot be imagined. There were the hills, enough to fatigue any man to climb them without a load and with no one to oppose. At the foot of the hills were thousands of the enemy, pouring into them volleys of musketry, and on the heights were their lines of earthworks, with their artillery, from which poured grape and cannister in a frightful storm. But the boys pushed nobly, steadily on, the rebels steadily retreating, the division coming up in splendid style. Generals Howe and Neill and Colonel Grant directing the movements and cheering on the men, as they pressed undauntedly against the murderous storm of iron and lead that met them from above. Our men were falling in every direction, but the lines were immediately closed, and on they passed. With shouts and cheers that drowned the roar of artillery, the noble division, with bayonets fixed, mounted the heights, the rebels retreating in confusion. Of that noble column the skirmishers of the Seventy-seventh first reached the heights of Marye's Hill, the Thirty-third New York, in line of battle, followed, and then the Sixth Vermont,[2] the other regiments of the two brigades being but a moment behind. But the work was not all done yet. On our left was an earthwork of strong profile, from which now the rebels turned their guns upon us. Against this the column turned, and soon gained possession of it also. A third stronghold then fell into our hands, and we were in undisputed possession of the heights. While the troops under Neill and Grant had thus nobly stormed the works in front, Colonel Seaver, with his three regiments, had scaled the heights further to the left.

[2] General L. A. Grant, in his report, does unintentional injustice to a brave regiment. He says: "The Sixth Vermont followed the Thirty-third New York, and was the second to gain the heights of Fredericksburgh." The Thirty-third was not the first to gain the heights on that part of the line. The testimony of General Neill, as well as of the members of the regiment, and the many trophies it captured, fully establish the claim of the Seventy-seventh to the honor.

With one or two exceptions, every regiment in the division had behaved with great gallantry.

The Seventy-seventh New York captured a stand of colors belonging to the Eighteenth Mississippi regiment, two heavy guns, a large number of prisoners, among whom was Colonel Luce of the Eighteenth Mississippi, and great numbers of small arms.

As the regiment reached the heights, and took possession of the guns, General Howe rode up, and, taking off his hat, exclaimed: "Noble Seventy-seventh! you have covered yourselves with glory!" The general's words were greeted with tumultuous cheers.

In the second work, the Thirty-third New York captured a piece of heavy ordnance and a number of prisoners. The regiment had exhibited great spirit and bravery. Six color-bearers had been shot down successively.

It was at the signal of the first gun in Newton's front that General Howe had ordered the charge of the Second division. The Third division and the Light division had not been idle while the events we have described were going on. It will be remembered that the column on the right consisted of the Forty-third New York and the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, supported by a line of battle; and that the other column consisted of the Seventh Massachusetts and Thirty-sixth New York, also supported by other regiments.

The ascent in front of the Third and Light divisions, though steep, was less precipitous than in front of Howe's column, and a good road led to the heights. But a stone wall skirted the base of the hills, behind which the rebels swarmed in great numbers.

Under the fire of the rebel batteries, Newton's and Burnham's regiments lay, some in the outskirts of the town, some in the cemetery, until General Sedgwick gave the order for the advance. Then, almost at the same time, both commands moved up the glacis towards the heights. Colonel Jones, with his two regiments, the Seventh Massachusetts and Thirty-sixth New York, pushed forward up the telegraph road, against the stone wall, bearing to the right of the road; their knapsacks and haversacks were left behind that they might be unencumbered with needless burdens. As they approached within three hundred yards of the wall, a murderous volley checked the advance, and threw the head of the column into disorder. In two minutes the men were rallied, and again they approached the wall, this time nearer than before; but again they were broken. A third time they were rallied; this time they pushed straight forward to the works.

The column under Colonel Spear started briskly forward, divested, like the others, of knapsacks and haversacks. Sallying from the town at double quick, in column of four ranks, they crossed the bridge just outside the city, when the gallant Colonel Spear received his mortal wound, and fell at the head of his men. The Sixty-first, which led the column, shocked at the death of their beloved leader, broke, and in confusion turned toward the town. This unfortunate confusion spread to the men of the Forty-third, who, checked by the disordered mass in front, and submitted to a galling fire, also commenced falling back. Finding any attempt to get the men through the disordered mass in front, the gallant Wilson drew his colors to the right and rallied his regiment around them. Then, bounding forward, the regiment reached the heights scarcely behind any of the regiments on the left, capturing a gun and many prisoners.

The line of battle under Colonel Burnham advanced on the left of the road; the Fifth Wisconsin on the skirmish line, the Sixth Maine, the Thirty-first New York, and the Twenty-third Pennsylvania in line. Four more gallant regiments could not be found in the service. Leaving everything but guns and ammunition, they started forward, encountering a shower of bullets, grape and canister, as soon as they rose above the slight knoll which had concealed them. We of the Second division looked with admiration upon the advancing line; our flag—it was the flag of the Sixth Maine—in advance of the others, its brave color-guard bounding forward, then halting a moment while the men came up, then dashing forward again, and finally gaining the heights before us all! It was a noble spectacle, and filled our hearts with pride for our brave comrades of the Light division. The Light division secured as trophies about seven hundred prisoners and five cannon.

Thus the heights were won. It was a glorious day for the Sixth corps. Never was a charge more gallantly made. But it was a sad day, for many scores of our brave comrades lay stretched in death, along the glacis, and on the steep ascent, in the ravines and along the road.

The Seventh Massachusetts, the Sixth Maine, the Fifth Wisconsin, the Second Vermont, and the Seventy-seventh, Thirty-third and Forty-third New York, were among the greatest losers. The Sixth Maine reached the rebel works with the loss of six captains and the major, and a proportional number of enlisted men. Two color-bearers and Lieutenant-Colonel Newman were shot in the Thirty-first, and Colonel Jones, of the Seventh Massachusetts, was seriously wounded, while one hundred and twelve of his brave men were either killed or wounded.

The wounded had been taken to the city, where they were kindly cared for by the surgeons of the corps, who had seized the town for hospital purposes. Churches and private dwellings swarmed with the unfortunate men, whose mangled forms told of the fearful work of the day. Surgeons were hard at work ministering relief to the suffering, binding up the wounds or removing the mangled limbs which offered no hope of recovery; while nurses administered food and coffee, and prepared beds, such as could be extemporized from blankets spread upon the floors. More than three thousand wounded were brought into the city before nightfall.

Upon the very heels of the brilliant success of the corps commenced disaster. An order from General Hooker had directed General Sedgwick to advance toward Chancellorsville, and form a junction with the main army. So the corps which had so nobly won the heights pressed on for further achievements. The heights were left behind. Brooks' division, which now took the lead, had advanced as far as Salem Church, on the Chancellorsville pike, when, instead of meeting any portion of Hooker's army, a few shells from rebel guns warned the division of the presence of the enemy.

A dense thicket was in front, and Bartlett's brigade, which had the advance, was deployed to skirmish and ascertain the position of the concealed foe. Presently, having fallen upon a strong line of skirmishers, the brigade was formed in line of battle; the Twenty-seventh New York on the right, then the Fifth Maine, then the One Hundred and Twenty-first New York, and on the left the Ninety-sixth Pennsylvania; the Sixteenth New York holding the skirmish line in front. General Bartlett advanced his line to the thicket, the Sixteenth driving the rebel skirmishers, the brigade following closely. At the edge of the thicket General Bartlett halted the line, but being ordered by General Brooks to advance rapidly, he pushed on again.

Advancing through the thicket about thirty rods, the brigade suddenly found itself face to face with a rebel line. The confederates were lying down in a road which traversed the thicket; and, when the Union line was within twenty yards, they suddenly discharged a volley, which, had it been well aimed, must have almost annihilated the brigade; but the fire was returned with effect, and presently, the confederates were glad to leave the road, which was almost filled with their dead and wounded, and seek shelter behind rifle pits. The rifle pits were but a few yards in rear of the road, and here a very strong force was posted. The Union forces occupied the road, and directed their fire against the works; but the rebel fire cut down their unprotected ranks like grass before the scythe. For fifteen minutes the gallant regiments endured this murderous fire, and then fell back in good order, having lost, within twenty minutes, nearly seven hundred men; of whom two hundred and seventy-three were from the One Hundred and Twenty-first New York.

The New Jersey brigade, and the whole division, had by this time been brought into action, and great slaughter was made in almost every regiment. Newton's division was also fiercely engaged on the right, Wheaton's brigade holding its position only by the most stubborn fighting. The enemy having forced the First division to retire, advanced against our line; but the batteries under Williston, Rigby and Parsons, by splendid practice, repulsed the onset. The Second division, forming the rear of the column, had not been brought into the engagement.

Darkness came to the relief of the corps, and the men slept soundly on their arms after the arduous duties of the day; but there were many misgivings among officers in regard to what to-morrow might bring forth.

While we rested, the enemy was bringing up reinforcements from the direction of Richmond. Very early in the morning the siege guns on Stafford Heights, opposite the town, sent some shells screaming across the valley to the heights of Marye's Hill, giving the alarm to those in the town and to those who had so recently left it. Lines of rebels were seen all along the outskirts of the town and on the crests above. Fifteen thousand confederate troops were between the Sixth corps and Fredericksburgh Heights. The surgeons immediately prepared to send the wounded across the river, but, supposing that to accomplish the whole before the rebels should take possession of the town would be impossible, made every preparation for being themselves taken prisoners. A small detachment of Gibbon's division still guarded the town, but nearly all his troops had recrossed the river and were on Stafford Heights. But the small force in the town seemed sufficient to convey to the rebels the impression that it was well guarded, for they made no attempt to seize the immense amount of hospital stores which was at their mercy, or to molest the wounded or the surgeons.

The Sixth corps was now in a critical position; its communications entirely cut off, and surrounded by hosts of the enemy. The corps was sandwiched between the rebels on the heights and Lee's whole army; while on its left was a strong force, and on its right an impassable river. Dispositions were at once made to meet the emergency.

Brooks' division was drawn back, and Howe's, still in the rear, changed front and quickly extended the line of battle to the river, so as to include Banks' Ford, six miles above the city, over which communications were at once established.

The whole of Early's rebel division occupied the crest of Marye's and Cemetery Hills; the divisions of Anderson and McLaws were on our flank; and the brigades of Hays, Hoke and Lawton, supported by Lee's whole army, were in our rear. We were in the vicinity of Salem Church, and our only line of retreat was upon the road leading to Banks' Ford.

The first demonstration of the rebels, on the morning of the 4th, was against the position held by Neill's brigade. A company from the Seventh Maine, and two companies from the Forty-ninth New York, in conjunction with a part of Martin's battery, and supported by the remaining companies of the Forty-ninth, gallantly repulsed and routed a whole brigade of rebels, capturing two hundred prisoners, and the colors of the Fifty-eighth Virginia regiment; which last trophy was borne off by the men of the Forty-ninth, and was the second stand of colors taken by that gallant brigade in this engagement, the Seventy-seventh having captured the other.

The day wore away with little fighting till five o'clock. General Howe had so disposed his troops as to occupy two positions.