Forty-eighth Regiment New York State Volunteers - Chapter 7

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The following is from the book
48th Regiment New York State Volunteers

In The War For The Union
1861-1865

by Abraham J. Palmer, D.D.
written in 1881-1885

CHAPTER VII

Olustee - July 19, 1863, to April 22, 1864,

After Fort Wagner -- July 22d, leave Morris Island -- Hilton Head -- St. Augustine, Fla. -- Beaufort, S. C. -- Recruits, and Return of Wounded Men -- Re-enlistment of Veterans -- Festivities at the Holidays -- "Les Enfants Perdu" -- February 5, 1864, embark for Expedition to Olustee -- General Seymour Advances -- February 20th, the Battle -- Barton's Brigade -- Losses -- The Retreat -- The Enemy -- Story of Sergeant Lang -- Lieutenant Keenan Killed -- March 9th, Palatka, Fla. -- Return of the "Veterans" -- Farewell to the Department of the South -- April 20th, sail from Port Royal.

     On the morning after Fort Wagner the whole of Strong's brigade could only muster 700 men. The Forty-eighth Regiment was but the shattered remnant of its former self. General Gillmore rode along the line as it stood formed, and looked with sad eyes upon its thinned ranks; it was no longer fit for service at the front, although it spent one day in the rifle-pits. On Wednesday, July 22d, orders were received for its transfer to Hilton Head, and thence to Florida. It embarked on the steamer Mary Benton, but she struck a sand-bar on passing out of the inlet, and sprang a leak. A terrible storm came on while they were at sea, and the men had to take to the pumps to keep the ship from sinking. Hilton Head was reached, however, on the 23d, where Major Strickland, who had been absent on sick leave, rejoined the regiment and assumed command.
     On July 31st it embarked again, reaching St. Augustine, Fla., on the 2d of August, succeeding the Seventh Connecticut in the garrison there, as it had done fifteen months before at Fort Pulaski. St. Augustine claims to be the oldest settlement in the United States; Santa Fe, New Mexico, is the only place which disputes this claim. It was a quaint old town, pretty and unique; the ancient houses were built of concrete, and the few inhabitants were descendants of the early French and Spanish settlers. They were poor enough during the war, and many of them were allowed rations by the Government. Fruits, fish, sweet potatoes, and sweet milk were plentiful, however, and very cheap. Five companies of the regiment found quarters in the barracks, while three were sent to Fort Marion, a venerable structure of the sixteenth century. The population of St. Augustine was about 400. Oranges, lemons, and pomegranates were abundant, and though it was the hot summer, the quiet and tranquility of the place was a grateful contrast to the terrible experiences of Morris Island.
     There was a little social life now at St. Augustine, and the men enjoyed it greatly, the regiment becoming speedily popular among the population. The fixtures of the theatre were brought from Fort Pulaski, and the "Barton Dramatic Association" (or what was left of them) furnished a deal of amusement to everybody. Lieutenant Nichols, who, during the terrible experiences on Morris Island, had been absent from the regiment in charge of the Billinghurst and Requa Battery, now returned, and acted as a provost-maarshal at St. Augustine. The two months which the remnant of them spent in Florida gave them a grateful rest.
     On October the 4th they were relieved at St. Augustine by the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, -- who had come from Morris Island, -- and sailed for Hilton Head on the 6th, expecting to be sent back to the batteries in front of Wagner; haply, however, they were sent instead to Beaufort. There tents were pitched in a wood about three miles from the landing, and the regiment was once more in camp. Four companies were subsequently sent to Seabrook, on Hilton Head Island, and Company A to Pope's Plantation for picket-duty. Many of the wounded officers and men from Fort Wagner who had recovered now returned to the regiment, and one hundred and fifty recruits from the North were added. On November 13th, Companies G and I, which had been so long absent in garrison at Fort Pulaski and Tybee Island, returned, and Company D was sent to Fort Pulaski, where it remained, however, but a few days. The addition of those two full companies, the recruits, and the return of wounded men, greatly increased the strength of the regiment. In December the re-enlistment of veterans began. A furlough of thirty days was promised every man who would re-enlist, and a bounty from the Government and the State that aggregated about eight hundred dollars. The re-enlisted veterans of the Forty-eighth, nearly three hundred in number, sailed for New York on the Atlantic, on January 31, 1864. They were escorted to the pier by the whole brigade, Lieutenant-Colonel Strickland and ten other officers accompanying them, ostensibly to see that they received their bounties; but in fact, I suspect, to see also that they got back after their thirty days of furlough had expired. By their absence in February, the veterans escaped the perils of the battle of Olustee.
     On Christmas Day in 1863 the Forty-eighth New York entertained the Forty-seventh, and a week later -- on New Year's Day -- the Forty-seventh returned the hospitality. Both days were highly enjoyable. Colonel Barton returned from the North on October 23d, having recovered from his wounds received at Wagner. On December 6th the regiment returned to Hilton Head. On January 30, 1864, "Les Enfants Perdu." better known as the "Lost Children," an independent battalion which had been somewhat notorious in the Department, was consolidated with the Forty-seventh and Forty-eighth regiments, and the Forty-eighth receiving about a hundred and fifty. Finally, on February 5, 1864, the Forty-eighth, with six days' cooked rations in their haversacks, embarked on board the steamer Delaware, in company of the left wing of the One Hundred and Fifteenth New York, reaching Jacksonville, Fla., on Monday, February 8th. The expedition of which they now formed a part was under the command of General Truman Seymour, and was destined to operate in the State of Florida. The artillery and calvary were commanded by Colonel Guy V. Henry; they were the Fortieth Massachusetts Mounted Infantry; a battalion of the First Massachusetts Cavalry; and a section of the Third Rhode Island Artillery.
     The infantry brigades were commanded respectively by Colonels Hawley, Barton, and Scammon, and the brigade of colored troops by Colonel Montgomery.
     General Gillmore in person followed us to Florida, coming as far as Baldwin, after which he returned to Hilton Head, leaving instructions with General Seymour not to advance beyond Baldwin without further orders. Seymour, however, was fired with his old determination to fight, and pushed his column forward, the cavalry under Colonel Henry, by a midnight dash capturing "Camp Finnegan." Deceived by a report that General Finnegan had fallen from Lake City, Seymour took the responsibility of moving his forces forward toward the river. He telegraphed the fact to Gillmore, who received the news with astonishment and not a little alarm: he instantly sent back a message of remonstrance; but it was too late, for on the day of its arrival, Seymour had already fought and lost the battle of Olustee.
     The Federal infantry marched inland, divided into three columns; Hawley's brigade on the left, Barton's in the center, and Scammons's on the right. Montgomery's brigade of colored troops was in the rear. The forces consisted of about five thousand men, and carried eight days' rations. They marched by separate roads -- first to "Barber's," twelve miles; thence to "Sanderson," nine miles farther; and then fell back to "Barber's," where they remained until the morning of February 20th. On that fatal day they pushed forward again, starting at eight o'clock, and by three in the afternoon reached a point on the railway two or three miles east of Olustee Station, where they found the Confederate General Finnigan in strong position, ready to receive them. He had posted his forces in ambush, under cover of a swamp and heavy pine forest, one flank resting on the woods and the other on Ocean Pond. Seymour had marched his wearied men straight into that ambush, and they were at close quarters with the enemy as soon as they became aware of his presence. It was a critical situation, and a precipitous, sharp, sanguinary, and disastrous battle immediately ensued. The Confederates call it the battle of "Ocean Pond;" the Federals "Olustee." Colonel Henry's cavalry and the Seventh Connecticut were in advance, and met the enemy first. So deadly was the fire which they encountered, that the Seventh New Hampshire was ordered to support the batteries of Hamilton, Elder and Langdon. Our forces had sixteen guns, the Confederate only four. Our guns, however, were brought too far forward, and the rebel sharpshooters picked of the artillerymen with fatal precision. Hamilton's battery, for instance, was within a hundred and fifty yards of the Confederate front, and within twenty minutes had lost forty of their fifty horses, and forty-five of their eighty-two men; the remainder fell back, leaving two of their four guns behind them. The enemy had the best of us from the very start that day.
     The Seventh New Hampshire lost heavily, and the Eighth United States Colored Regiment came up to their support. It had never before been under fire, but for nearly two hours it held its position in the front with splendid courage, losing more than three hundred men. Colonel Barton's brigade consisted of three New York regiments, the Forty-seven, Forty-eight, and One Hundred and Fifteenth. As the Eighth fell back, Barton brought his brigade forward on the double-quick to action. Their position was at the center, where the fire of the enemy was terrific. To say that the whole brigade did its duty nobly is but faint praise. Under a most terrible fire it stood its ground with an unsurpassed courage. The Forty-eighth was subjected that day to an ordeal -- that which hardly anything is more trying to soldiers -- that of holding their line under terrible fire from the enemy after the exhaustion of their own ammunition. For two hours and a half they fought with a valor which was never surpassed in their history, suffering a loss of two hundred and twenty-seven men, killed, wounded, and prisoners.
     An incident that is well remembered, when the day was already practically lost, was the coming forward into action of Colonel Montgomery's colored brigade, the First North Carolina passing between the Forty-seventh and Forty-eighth on the double-quick, and cheered by those shattered regiments as it went into battle. The coming of the fresh troops to the field staggered the enemy for a moment, and prevented an effective pursuit, for Seymour (of whom it is only just to say that he rode everywhere encouraging his men, and exposing his person at the points of greatest peril) had now become convinced that he was defeated, and had ordered a retreat.    He carried away many of his wounded, leaving, however, some two hundred and fifty of them on the field, besides many dead. Seymours total losses at Olustee were estimated at between fifteen hundred and two thousand, and the value of the provisions and stores which he burned to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy was at least one million dollars. He lost also five guns and a hundred and fifty horses. The losses in the three regiments which composed Barton's brigade were eight hundred.
     The retreat of our forces continued until February 25th, when they reached Jacksonville. The march to and from Olustee was a terrible one; the roads often running through swamps where the water was knee-deep; yet there were recompenses, for the day was clear and beautiful on which they marched into that death-trap at Olustee, and often the sandy roads ran through pine forests, and the resinous odors of the trees gave a balmy fragrance to the air, and such was the brave spirit of the men that the anticipation of meeting the enemy on an open battle-field, where they hoped at last to conquer them, cheered and quickened their weary steps; but the march back through the night, with many of their comrades killed and wounded and left on the field, and other desperately struggling along on the retreat, was a sad disappointment to their hopes.
     The writer wishes it was in his power to give as minute a description of the battle of Olustee as has been given of the assault on Fort Wagner. Nothing more heroic in all its history will be recorded than the manner in which the Forty-eighth held its ground that day against direct and double cross-fire from the enemy while its own ammunition was exhausted. From two till five that terrible afternoon it held its line unbroken. It went into the fight a second time after it had secured ammunition. Its terrible losses -- only second to those it had suffered at Wagner -- are the best indications of its valor. The favorable position of the enemy and his superior gallantry of his men, although they fought bravely, gave them the victory. The following is from a report in the "Rebellion Record:"

"The battle of Olustee was fought with all the odds on the enemy's side: our men were weary and footsore with long marching; they had taken but very little refreshments -- some not any -- since early breakfast; they had no expectation of a fight until actually drawn into it; they fought on ground where the room was insufficient to form a line of battle to the best advantage; the enemy was at least three thousand more numerous than our forces. We knew nothing of the ground and position of the enemy, except as we learned them by dear experience, and under such an array of unfavorable circumstances no bravery or skill could save the day."

      This same report adds that "Barton's brigade fought like tigers," and that "the battle will rank among the bloodiest and most fruitless slaughters of the war." When it was discovered that many of our wounded must be left upon the field to the mercy of the enemy at our retreat, Surgeon Devendorf of the Forty-eighth nobly volunteered to remain with them: he did so and was taken prisoner by the enemy.
     The Confederate army at "Ocean Pond" was under the general command of General Finnigan, but General Colquitt (now U. S. Senator from Georgia) wa in immediate command of the forces at the front. The Confederates call him to this day the "Hero of Ocean Pond." Their acknowledged losses were ninety-three killed and eight hundred and forty-one wounded. Their force consisted of Clinch's Georgia and Smith's Florida cavalry, Wheaton's battery (the Chatham artillery), one section of Gamble's and one of Guehard's artillery; The Second and Sixth Florida; the first Georgia regulars; the Sixth, Nineteenth, Twenty-third, Twenty-seventh, Twenty-eighth, Thirty-second, and Sixty-fourth Georgia regiments of infantry. Their reports acknowledge the efficiency of the Spencer Rifles, with which one regiment of our forces was armed. Their exhaustion at the close of the battle may be inferred from their faint pursuit.
     Among many letters giving personal reminiscences of Olustee, is one from Sergeant (afterwards Captain) Henry Lang of Company C, which came all the way from (illegible address) Budapest, Hungary. He was taken prisoner at Olustee and twenty years afterward writes his reminisces of the event. I quote from his letter:

     "I go twenty years back to Olustee, Fla., now only a dreamland. I see myself again amongst the guns, abandoned by Battery M; then again I am left alone, firing away from sixty rounds I had in my pockets. The rebels had a good mark at me, standing amongst the guns. They crept nearer and nearer, jumping from trunk to trunk. Everything about me was shot away - my canteen, my haversack, the skirts of my blouse; on the other hand, my cartridges were also ominously disappearing down to the fifty-sixth. I leveled to fire the fifty-seventh round at a cluster of heads behind a pine trunk; we were at close quarters; I pulled, my ball sped on its way, a crash, and I fell to one side, propping myself up with my gun. At the moment my gun went off, another ball hit at last its mark, and my leg was smashed; a friendly hand assisted me to a tree and fled for dear life because the enemy advanced, and in another moment all my adversaries came rushing to the tree where I was reclining; al shouted, 'Are you the man that was amongst the guns?'
     "Having told them that that was so, they all exclaimed 'Bully boy!' One of them began to question me concerning how many men we had in the battle: I told them about fifteen thousand. They spoke about our regiments who had made such 'a devilish noise' with their sharp-shooters. Flushed with victory as the were, they only went about three hundred yards beyond where I was, and ordered a halt. I grew faint and fainter, and yet with an iron determination raised myself from my faintness, cut open my trousers, and with the only handkerchief found about me, and the help of a stick, succeeding in stopping the bleeding of my wound. I took out my pipe, and finding just enough tobacco, I began to smoke to keep away the faintness and kill the wretched thoughts growing apace with the darkness spreading over the battle-field, and to divert my thoughts from listening to the groans of the dying and wounded, and from the blasphemous language of some marauding soldiers who were ill-treating wounded negroes.
     "In this state two young Confederate soldiers came to me, and by holding a lighted match to my face, they recognized me as one of the Forty-eighth Regiment. They inquired about their home in Savannah, which they had not seen during the war; they were sons of merchants of that city. I could give them very little information, except what we had heard from the city through the runaway soldiers at Fort Pulaski. At last one of them said to the other, 'I would like to make the Yank a fire; look how he is shivering! He will not stand the frost to-night.' So they kindled me a blazing fire, which revived my benumbed limbs; then one of them unbuckled his blanket, covered me with it, brought me some water, then bidding me 'good-by,' they left me -- not, however, till the younger of them had given me a plug of good tobacco! May these Savannah boys be blessed even from Hungary, and across the ocean may this blessing reach them!"

     This incident of the amenities of war -- the kindness of the two boys from Savannah to the wounded Union soldier -- has been deemed worthy of insertion here. If space permitted, the writer would add many touching personal experiences at the battle of Olustee on the terrible retreat there-from -- like that of Sergeant Twamly of Company I, who was badly wounded, and who was helped to escape to the rear by an artilleryman, who gave him a seat by his side on a gun-carriage, and drove him a torturing ride to the railroad. Lieutenant Keenan of Company I was the only officer of the Forty-eighth killed. The shattered remnants of the regiment finally reached Jacksonville about nine o'clock at night, on February 25th.
     It remained there until March 9th, when it embarked on the steamer Maple Leaf, for Palatka, Fla., on the St. John's River, reaching Palatka at daylight the next morning. The town was entirely deserted, with the exception of one or two families, at the time of its occupation by the regiment, but fearing an attack from the enemy, they threw up earthworks and constructed batteries in the rear of the town, details for fatigue duty in the trenches being regularly made for some days. The orange-trees were loaded with large yellow fruit; but the oranges were rather sour for eating, although they made admirable "orangeade." The gnats troubled the pickets more than the enemy during the month and more that the regiment remained at Palatka. The diaries which have been examined, and which were written while in camp there, contain few items of more importance than the following: "Killed a pig today and brought him into camp."
     There were minor expeditions made now and then. Sergeant George W. Marten sends an interesting account of one up the St. John's River, and there were drills and inspections and picket duty, and the ordinary routine of a soldier's life, from March 10th, when the regiment reached Palatka, to April 14th, when it evacuated it. Constant reports, however, that the enemy was about to advance kept the boys on qui vive. Palatka while we occupied it was a peaceful town. The re-enlisted veterans, with the officers who had accompanied them to the North, returned to the regiment while there. They were cordially welcomed back, and greatly added to our strength.
     A great event was now about to occur in our history; a total change was to take place in the locality and conditions of the regiment's career: for two years and a half it had been in the Department of the South, doing a valiant duty wherever it had been assigned. It had been part of a little army, and yet as brave a one as the Republic possessed; but the field of its military action had been restricted, and the part it had taken in the solution of the great problem of the war appeared insignificant, in contrast with the achievements of the great armies of the North and West. the Forty-eighth Regiment had now reached the end of its career in the Department. It was about to leave the little army with which it had hitherto operated amid the swamps and the sea islands upon the Southern coast, and to be merged in the great armies of the James and Potomac, and participate in battles in Virginia and North Carolina of world-wide renown. Yet it was not without sorrow that we prepared to quit our old Department, with which we had been so long associated. We were to leave behind us the graves of many of our dead, in the sands of Morris Island and the forests of Florida, not to speak of others scattered here and there along the coast.
     It was therefore a great change in our career when, in April, 1864, we severed our connection with the Department of the South, and united our fortunes with the Army of the James, in Virginia. It was, however, but a matter of a few days; the regiment evacuated Palatka on April 14th, leaving Jacksonville on the steamer Ben-de-Ford for Hilton Head on April 16th; spent one day in bivouac back of Beaufort; and finally, at 5 P.M. on April 20th, sailed out of Port Royal Harbor, which we had entered with Dupont's fleet two years and a half before, for the last time. We were bound for Fortress Monroe, and the unknown destiny that awaited us. Tears came to many eyes as the low shores of South Carolina faded away in the sea, and we realized that we had left behind us places with which we had grown familiar, and the associations never to be forgotten.
     It would be interesting to know, if it were possible, how many of the men of the Forty-eighth Regiment who sailed into Port Royal Harbor on the Empire City, Matanzas, and Belvidere, in the fall of 1861, also sailed away from it finally on the Ben-de-Ford in the spring of 1864. If the history of the regiment had ended on that day, it would have been a memorable one, but it was destined yet to win fadeless laurels upon fields still more illustrious.

(end of Chapter VII )