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The regiment
landed at Gloucester Point, on the York River, Va.,
on April 23, 1864. It now belonged to the
Second Brigade, Second Division, Tenth Corps, Army of
the James. The respective commanders were as
follows: The Army of the James was commanded by
Major-General Benjamin F. Butler; the Tenth
Corps, by Major General Quincy A. Gillmore; the
Second Division, by Brigadier-General John W. Turner;
the Second Brigade, by Colonel William B.
Barton; The Forty-eighth Regiment, by
Lieutenant-Colonel Dudley W. Strickland. The
troop composing the Tenth Corps were mostly our old
comrades, with whom we had been associated in the
Department of the South.
The
Army of the James was organized for the purpose of
moving westward up the James River, and if possible
taking the cities of Richmond and Petersburg at the
same time that Grant moved southward from the Potomac
by way of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania against
Lee.
Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant had now assumed
the supreme command of all the Union armies.
Henceforward they moved like clock-work in obedience
to his will, until the final overthrow of the
rebellion. The right man had been found at last
who could lead his country's armies to victory;
a quiet ma, who had come by way of Donaldson and
Shiloh and Vicksburg, and whose military genius will
rank in history with that of Marlborough, Hannibal,
and Napoleon; a man of relentless and
inflexible determination, whom disasters could not
dismay, and who in the hour of fiery battles he was
unshaken.
General B. F. Butler, to whom Grant had entrusted the
command of the Army of the James, may not have been a
great soldier, but he was a conspicuous politician
and military governor, and his care for the lives of
his soldiers, the writer feels, has never been fully
appreciated. His career in New Orleans had been
magnificent; he had coined the word
"contraband," and he had quelled the riots
in the city of New York by his very presence.
If he was not, therefore, a great military genius, he
was a conspicuous figure in the war. The writer
first saw him on board the steamer City of
New York, which reached Fortress Monroe on
April 17, 1864, with 400 exchanged prisoners from
Mayo's Prison Hospital in Richmond. His quaint
and well-known figure, gorgeously uniformed, strode
up and down the decks, and at the sight of the
emaciated bodies of the starved and frozen men, some
in the first stages of idiocy, whom the Confederates
had sent back to Union lines, he stamped his foot in
wrath, muttering, "Damnable! damnable!"
General Turner, the division commander, proved
himself a brave soldier; our own Colonel
Barton, the brigade commander, had long ago
demonstrated to us at Olustee and Fort Wagner that he
knew no fear.
On April 30th there was a grand review of all the
troops at Gloucester Point by General Butler,
accompanied by the corps and division
commanders. It was an imposing array of 30,000
men, and occupied the entire day from eleven A. M.
until night. The army marched in review
"in column by division." The bronzed
veterans from the Department of the South won hearty
cheers. It is noteworthy that we were destined
to meet as our immediate antagonists in the battles
on the James River our old enemies in the
South. Beauregard still commanded the
Confederate army that opposed us, and Colquitt's
Georgians, who had defeated us at Olustee, fought us
again and again in the battles in Virginia.
On May 4th, the Forty-eighth embarked on the steamer
Delaware, and sailed on down the York River to
Fortress Monroe, and up the James River to Bermuda
Hundred is the name of an irregular triangle of land
at the mouth of the Appomattox, and lying between it
and the James River. Here Butler hastily threw
up a line of intrenchments from River to river, while
the gun-boats in either stream completely covered
each flank of his army. Thus, in twenty-four
hours after the expedition started, it had gained a
commanding foothold within fifteen miles of the city
of Richmond in a straight line, and not more than
eight miles from Petersburg. The movement was a
surprise to the Confederates, and caused great
consternation at Richmond. The rapid and
vigorous advance either upon Petersburg, or Richmond
at that time, it is now known, would have succeeded
in taking over either city. It was Butler's
lost opportunity. But Beauregard was an agile
antagonist. With remarkable energy, he rapidly
concentrated a respectable army to oppose us, and on
the very next day after our landing (May 7th) gave us
battle at Chester Heights.
The troops had turned in all their heavy camp
equipage and superfluous baggage before leaving
Gloucester Point, and were now in light marching
order; each man carried his piece of
shelter-tent, his blanket, overcoat, and whatever he
needed upon his back. The roads on the line of
our march from Bermuda Hundred soon became littered
with blankets, tents, and clothing of all kinds,
which the men had thrown away; fifty pounds on
one's back soon gets heavy after a few miles of
marching, and whenever we halted for a rest the men
would examine their knapsacks, and throw away
whatever they could spare. Knapsacks that had
been packed full at the start soon were well-nigh
empty.
The skill of Gillmore's soldiers in throwing up the
earthworks at Bermuda Hundred caused much
laughter. Gillmore's achievements in
engineering, and the victories he had won the the
Department of the South by the skillful using of the
spade, caused those useful utensils to be facetiously
named "Gillmore's rifles."
"Spades were trumps" in the hands of the
veterans of Morris Island.
Butler was not yet, however, quite "bottled
up" at Bermuda Hundred. The Army of the
Potomac had found that their march from the Potomac
to Richmond straightforward met some obstructions
which detained them, and Butler not being ordered to
move against Richmond on the south until he could
hear the noise of battle from the north side of the
James, was compelled in the absence of definite
orders to determine his own course of action;
perhaps unfortunately, he did determine to stand
largely upon the defensive, and to occupy himself
chiefly in destroying the communications of Richmond
on the south, and preventing thereby reinforcements
from reaching Lee. The first effort he made in
that direction after he found his armies securely
intrenched at Bermuda Hundred was on May 7th.
The Richmond and Petersburg Railroad was, on the
average, about three miles in front of line
intrenchments. He determined to destroy it, and
started out bravely enough on the 7th.
Beauregard, however, had succeeded in throwing troops
into Petersburg the night before, and when Turner's
division reached Chester Heights they found the
Confederates in some force on their front. A
skirmish ensued, which was indeed on the part of the
Forty-eighth --as well as some other regiments who
found themselves in the hottest of the fray -- a
square stand-up fight. The regiment lost
thirty-nine men; and the Forty-eighth was the
only regiment that succeeded in reaching the
railroad, and crossed it to a mound beyond.
They also destroyed a railroad for some
distance. The total Federal loss was about two
hundred and fifty; we gained some advantage in
the skirmish, but finally withdrew. It was
subsequently learned that had the attack been made
with more vigor, not only the railroad but the city
of Petersburg might have been captured.
On May 12th Butler pushed a still heavier column
forward, General "Baldy" Smith marching up
the turnpike to the right in the direction of Fort
Darling, and the left under General Gillmore
following the line of the railroad further
westward. The Confederates fell back behind the
Proctor's Creek, and occupied a fortified line -- one
of the outworks of Fort Darling. Gillmore,
however, turned the right of their line, and by a
brilliant dash carried their position; he
secured also a large number of prisoners; but
the resistance was stubborn, and our losses were
considerable.
And now occurred the battle of Drewry's Bluff.
The cross purposes of two opposing generals were
never better illustrated. Butler, feeling his
way, had determined on the morrow upon a general
attack upon Beauregard. Beauregard, on the
other hand, had resolved to crush Butler by
assaulting his lines. Both Butler and
Beauregard commanded their armies in person.
The sun set clear and the sky was bright on the
evening of May 15th, but during the night a most
impenetrable fog arose. Under cover of the fog
and darkness in the early morning - at 3.30 o'clock -
the Confederate columns made a furious assault on the
right of Butler's lines, and now occurred a most
remarkable battle: the rebel columns swept
through the Union lines on the right, but the fog
soon became thoroughly mingled with them.
Butler had been poorly prepared for the unexpected
assault, and unhappily his weak point was on hs
right, where Beauregard struck him. Between
Butler's right and the river there was a piece of
open country for a mile, which was only
picketed by a single regiment of negro cavalry.
Beauregard seems to have discovered this the night
before; at any rate, he took advantage of it
that early morning and turned Butler's right
successfully, and drove his forces back. The
fog, however, which had served his purpose so
well in masking his attack, now thwarted him;
for, as already said, his forces became mixed with
the Union troops so that the greatest confusion
ensued. You did not know friend from foe, yet
the Confederates pressed on in their efforts to seize
the road leading to Bermuda Hundred, when, happily,
the One Hundred and Twelfth New York and Ninth Maine
(two regiments which Gillmore had sent to reinforce
Smith) met them with such stubborn resistance, that
the astonished rebels, unaware because of the fog of
the fewness of the men who opposed them, first halted
and then withdrew. Thus the fog in turn served
both armies.
Then Beauregard turned his attention to the forces
occupying Drewry's Bluff, and massing his columns
hurled them three times in succession in desperate
assaults against Gillmore's position; but with
unflinching steadfastness the veterans of the Tenth
Corps, who remembered the lessons of Fort Wagner and
had learned the advantage of defending earthworks as
against the peril of assaulting them, three times
drove them back. THe first two of those three
assaults were immediately upon our front, the third
was to our left. The following extract is from
the pen of Mr. O. G. Sawyer, a war-corresponent of
the Tenth Corps:
"The enemy hurled
their column upon Turners division, which
held the right of the Tenth Corps, joining
the Eighteenth COrps. They formed in a
beautiful manner and moved steadily on
Barton's brigade, on the right of Turner's
division, advancing as if on parade, and not
firing a single shot. Waiting until
they had reached a good distance for
effective range, the brigade poured
into their lines such a terrific fire that
the line melted away; and the thinned
and broken ranks, after vainly endeavoring to
advance against a storm of bullets, fled,
with terrible loss, to the woods in their
rear. The volleys were as continuous
and heavy as the musketry of a brigade could
well be, and such as no living beings could
stand against. The rebels were
scattered like chaff, and broke for the woods
in a disorganized mass. After great
exertion the line of attack was again formed,
and again a brigade advanced in splendid
style against our line. Again did they
receive the terrible fire, and pushed
steadily on until a fourth of them lay killed
and wounded on the field, when they broke and
rushed quickly to the cover of the woods. Our
boys gave them hearty cheers, and sent a
volley after them. The rebels fought
with more than their usual dash and bravery
that day, as they seemed determined to crush
our army as the only way to save
Richmond. They met with a bloody
failure. Our men fought splendidly, and
the Tenth Corps has established a reputation
for fighting qualities in the field, the
division commanders also. There were
many parallels between this battle and the
battle of Inkerman in the Crimea --the hour,
for instance, at which the attack was made,
the fog, the surprise, the overwhelming
number of the assailants, the sturdy
resistance they encountered, the
reinforcements of the besiegers, and the
final repulse of the enemy. Then there
were bayonet charges, hand-to-hand
encounters, and deeds of heroism around which
Obscurity will forever hold her opaque
mantle."
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The battle lasted for thirteen mortally contested
hours. Butler's loss in the entire engagement
was about three thousand; that of the enemy was
much greater. When the rebels tried their
hand at assaulting earthworks strongly defended by
infantry well armed, they found it as difficult to
carry them as we had done.
The Forty-eighth was in the very heart of the battle
of Drewry's Bluff, and it acquitted itself with
the same steadfast courage in defending
fortifications which it had demonstrated in
assaulting them. Beauregard subsequently
succeeded in driving back Butler's right; that
made the intrenchments occupied by Gillmore
untenable, since the enemy could flank them;
our forces were therefore were compelled to
withdraw. This was done successfully, and
General Butler retired behind his fortifications at
Bermuda Hundred.
Beauregard, however, was grievously disappointed in
his endeavor to demolish Butler's army. The
fault was laid to the rebel General Whiting, who had
been ordered to strike Gillmore heavily and cut off
the Union line of retreat, and who failed to
accomplish his task. Beauregard insists that
Whiting's failure was all that saved Butler's army
from annihilation.
It had been but ten days since the Forty-eighth
Regiment had landed at Bermuda Hundred, yet it had
already participated in one heavy skirmish and one
desperate battle, in both of which it had acquitted
itself with honor. It had lost three officers
and seventy-six men. Captain Moser of Company C
was shot through the heart.
When Butler found himself back in his intrenchments
at Bermuda Hundred he devised a plan to cross the
Appomattox and march against Petersburg; before
he was ready for its execution, however, he received
orders to detach on corps of his army and a division
of the other, and send them to reinforce the Army of
the Potomac, now approaching Richmond from the
North. It was deemed that the remainder of his
forces were sufficient to hold the
intrenchments. This was a grievous
disappointment to Butler, depriving him of all power
for further aggressive movements; and his
complaint to General Grant (which gave to his
position at Bermuda Hundred its quaint name)
contained the phrase, "The necessities of the
Army of the Potomac have bottled me up
at Bermuda Hundred." Butler selected the
Eighteenth Corps ("Baldy Smith's") and our
division (Turner's) of the Tenth Corps to form the
reinforcement to the Army of the Potomac;
temporarily, therefore, the second division of the
Tenth Corps was united with the Eighteenth
Corps. On May 28th we marched to City Point,
embarking on the steamer Delaware on the 29th, and
proceeding down the James River, landing May 31st at
White House, on the Pamunky River, marching nearly
all night and all the next day through terrible heat
and dust, joining the Army of the Potomac on the
battle-field of Cold Harbor, late in the afternoon of
June 1st.
Meanwhile a convalescent camp had been left behind at
Bermuda Hundred, in which were a number of the
Forty-eighth who had been unable to make the hard
march. They were assigned, nevertheless, to
picket duty daily in front of the intrenchments.
Here the writer rejoined the regiment in the latter
part of May. Ten months had passed since his
separation from them on the parapets of Fort
Wagner; for nine months he had been in rebel
prisons - in Charleston and Columbia, S. C.; in
Libby, on Belle Island, and at Mayo's Prison Hospital
in Richmond. The most of those who had been
taken prisoner with him on the bank at Wagner had
perished in the Confederate prison-pens. But
few ever returned.
The picket-line at Bermuda Hundred had an adventure
one night that deserves a passing notice. The
Confederate lines in our front, being found weakly
defended one day, were carried easily by
assault. They were held for one night, then the
videttes thrown far forward in their rear. The
writer was one of them, and he remembers spending
that night hiding behind a tree, watching out for
"rebels" in the woods half a mile
away. He recalls vividly also their counter
charge in the morning, and the way in which, from his
advanced position in the vidette line, at loss of
cartridge box, musket, and all accoutrements, and
only by the most strenuous use of sterling legs, he
succeeded in escaping a trip to rebel prisons
again. The enemy retook their earthwork:
indeed, there was no attempt made to hold it.
Meanwhile the regiment was once more engaged in a
terrible battle at Cold Harbor. Within half an
hour after they had reached the battle-field, they
were ordered forward to the attack. [The writer
adopts the name Cold Harbor, usually used in the
Federal reports of the battle; the proper name,
however, is Cool Arbor, the word being derived from
the name of a tavern in the woods, which had been a
well-known resort to citizens of Richmond since
Revolutionary times.]
When General W. F. Smith, with the Eighteenth Corps
and one division of the Tenth from the Army of the
James, reached the battle-field he was assigned his
position on the right of Wright's corps;
Smith's forces numbered sixteen thousand. The
two armies of Grant and Lee now confronted each other
on the old battle-ground which Lee and McClellan had
contested two years before. Although Smith's
troops had made a forced march of twenty-five miles,
no sooner were they in position than they were
ordered to advance. Between the two armies at
that point was a broad, gently undulating field, then
a thin line of woods, beyond which, and in front of a
denser forest, the rebels occupied a line of
rifle-pits. Over this open field, at four
o'clock in the afternoon, forgetful now of their
fatigue from their long and dusty march, Smith's
forces rushed, making a most furious charge, and in
the face of a murderous fire captured the first line
of rifle-pits, taking about six hundred
prisoners. Then they pushed on, assaulting a
second and much stronger line; but the rebels
held it firmly till night came on, and the struggle
ended. In those two desperate assaults our
forces lost fully two thousand men; but they
held every inch of the ground they won, and
bivouacked that night at the advanced point which
they reached. they were partly in the shelter
of the thin woods, but they found little rest that
night, for the enemy made many desperate efforts to
retake their lost rifle-pits, and annoyed us
throughout the night by a constant fire.
The part of the regiment in those famous assaults was
a gallant one. Colonel Barton, the brigade
commander, was wounded, and in the absence of
superior officers the command of the regiment
ultimately devolved upon Captain Nichols.
Lieutenant Ingram was shot at the very moment of
taking the rifle-pits. Among the prisoners
there was found a female officer of artillery, and it
was in the struggle for the second line of rifle-pits
that Colonel-Sergeant Porch was shot, and the coors
of the regiment were lost.
It may be doubted if in the whole history of the
Forty-eighth a more gallant deed will be chronicled
than that of the death of Porch. He had been
falsely twitted with cowardice at Drewry's Bluff,
because he had taken the colors to the rear when
ordered to do so, when our forces retired; some
one, who did not know that he was but obeying orders,
had accused him of showing "the white
feather." No charge could have stung his
noble soul more keenly. Porch was a gentleman
and a hero. He had been a student at Pennington
Seminary, N. J., in 1861, and had enlisted under
Captain Knowles -- the first to write his name on the
roll of Company D. He was an educated,
well-to-do boy from New Jersey, and his death was a
spectacle which his comrades ought never to
forget. Tantum was his bosom-friend, and just
as our men reached that second line of
rifle-pits, that bristled with bayonets and swarmed
with rebels, Tantum cried to Porch, "Now,
Billy, show them that you are no coward."
To mount that bank was instant death, and yet without
hesitancy and without a word Porch leaped up it
alone: he was shot dead by a score of bullets,
and throwing his arms around his flag, fell with it
into the midst of the foe. Not another man
followed him. He was left alone there in the
keeping of his flag and of glory.
So hot was the fire that day, that not only Porch but
every member of his color-guard was shot down.
The loss of the colors, although that was caused by
the high valor with which they were borne, was a
serious blow to the regiment. To lose your
colors in battle was esteemed a reproach; in
our case it was, on the contrary, a high honor.
That was rightfully recognized at headquarters, for
although a general order had been issued, that a
regiment losing its colors should not carry them
again for three months, yet a special order was
issued permitting the Forty-eighth to carry colors
immediately.
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