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The year
1865 opened gloomily for the cause of the Confederacy and
hopefully for that of the Union. It was evident
that the South was well-nigh exhausted, and that the war
was drawing to its close. The first month of the
year was signalized by the assault and capture of Fort
Fisher, a strong fortification which defended the
entrance, by the Cape Fear River, to the port of
Wilmington, N. C. It's fall was an event of
the greatest importance, because there had been much
difficulty in stopping the blockade running into that
port, and when Fort Fisher fell, the Confederacy was
finally shut up within itself, and the last doorway
through which it had held communication with the world
was closed. The blockade-trade of Wilmington was
much greater than was supposed, and it appears to have
continued with but little interruption until the capture
of Fort Fisher within three months of the end of the
rebellion.
The Forty-eighth Regiment was destined to play a
conspicuous part in this final campaign of the war.
They left their camp at Chapin's Farm, on the evening of
December 7, 1864; marched to Jones' Landing, near
City Point; spent a night in a snow-storm, camping
in the woods; and next morning, 8 inst., embarked
on the steamer Perit to participate
in General Butler's expedition against Fort Fisher.
Off Fortress Monroe they found a fleet of transports
loaded with troops at anchor, and the scene recalled that
other fleet that had sailed from the same harbor, under
Dupont, more than three years before. Admiral
Porter commanded the naval forces of the expedition, and
on December 13th the sailed out to sea. They went
to Beaufort, N. C., for supplies of water and coal,
sailing thence up the Cape Fear River, and on Christmas
Day they landed in front of Fort Fisher.
Fort Fisher is
described as an earthwork of an irregular
quadrilateral trace; the exterior sides averaged
about two hundred and fifty yards; its northeastern
salient, which was nearest the sea, approached high-water
mark to within about one hundred yards; across the
beach to the water was a strong stockade or wooden
palisade. The land face of the fort occupied the
whole width of the cape, known as Federal Point;
and it was exposed to enfilading fire from the ocean, it
was heavily traversed, and the twenty guns that commanded
that strip of land were well guarded. The tops of
the traverses were fully six feet above the general line
of the exterior crests, and afforded bomb-proof shelters
for the garrison. Looking at them from a distance,
they appeared like a series of mounds. The slopes
of the parapet were well secured by marsh sods. All
along the line front of the fort, across to the Cape Fear
River, was a stockade. Numbers of torpedoes had
been planted in the sand in front of the fort, and the
wrecks of unfortunate blockade-runners were scattered
along the beach.
It was to take this formidable fortification by assault
that General Butler had come with 6500 troops, consisting
of Ames' division of the Twenty-fourth Corps and Paine's
of the Twenty-fifth Negro Corps, in co-operation with the
fleet under Admiral Porter. General Weitzel had
immediate command of the troops. The bombardment by
the naval forces followed. Weitzel pushed forward
his skirmishes to within a few yards of the fort, where
some of them were wounded by shells from the fleet.
One man reached the ditch and captured the rebel flag
which had been shot down from their parapets. Ames'
troops also captured about two hundred rebels, with ten
commissioned officers. After interviewing them,
finding that heavy reinforcements had been thrown into
Fort Fisher, and that there were probably more men within
its garrison than he could bring against it, Butler
concurred in the opinion of Weitzel, that a successful
assault could not at that time be made. The forces
were ordered to withdraw and re-embark. When the
guns of the navy ceased firing those of Fort Fisher
opened upon the retiring troops. The position of
our men was perilous. It was thirty hours before
they finally reached their ships again. The
expedition was a failure.
Great blame, and indeed much ridicule, has been heaped
upon General Butler for not assaulting Fort Fisher that
day. The subsequently successful assault under
General Terry has emphasized the apparently bad
generalship of Butler; but time rights many wrongs;
it is now generally conceded by military writers that
Fort Fisher was so heavily garrisoned that it could not
have been assaulted with any chance of success at
that time. From the statement of the
rebel General Whiting on his death-bed, it is now
believed that there were on that day 900 effective men
behind those sand walls, and 7000 within forty-eight
hours' march. There was also some lack of
co-operation between the naval and land forces, and
mutual understandings made matters worse. However,
the expedition failed, and the troops returned to Bermuda
Hundred, the Forty-eighth reaching its old camp at
Chapin's Farm on the night of the last day of the year
(1864), and stretching their shelter-tents over the old
frameworks of their little huts, spent the night within
them in comfort, though the snow was falling without.
The failure of that
expedition against Fort Fisher cost our army commander,
General Butler, his position; he was relieved from
his command on January 7, 1865. General Ord
succeeded him in commanding the Department, and General
Gibbon in command of the Twenty-fourth Corps.
Butler felt his disgrace keenly, and believed also that
he had not deserved it. Perhaps he was not a great
soldier. Nevertheless his failure to assault Fort
Fisher, as subsequent events have demonstrated, is not
now pronounced a mistake. He issued a farewell
address to the "Soldiers of the Army of the
James," in which he attributed his removal to his
care for the lives of his men, and declared that
"having witnessed your ready devotion of your blood
to your country's cause, I have been chary of the
precious charge confided to me. The waste of blood
of my men does not stain my garments."
But General Grant was not to be baffled by one
failure; he determined to try again. He
selected for the commander Major-General A. H.
Terry. The same troops composed the expedition,
with the addition of Abbot's brigade of the First
Division of the Twenty-fourth Corps. On January 3,
1865, the Forty-eighth left its quarters at Chapin's Farm
once more, and embarking this time on the steamer Tonawanda,
in company with the Forty-seventh New York,
Ninety-seventh Pennsylvania, and four companies of the
Two Hundred and Third Pennsylvania, steamed again, and
for the last time, down the James River to Fortress
Monroe. On the 8th day they reached Hatteras
Inlet; on the 9th were with the fleet of Beaufort,
N. C.; on the 12th in Cape Fear River once
more; on the 13th effected a landing in small
boats, formed upon the beach, and fell to work throwing
up entrenchments.
At three o'clock in the afternoon of January 13, 1865,
nearly 8000 men, with suitable rations, ammunition, and
entrenching tools, had been safely transferred to the
shore; pickets were at once thrown out, the ground
to the front reconnoitered, a line finally established
about two miles from the fort, and by eight o'clock on
the morning of the 14th, a good breastwork, reaching from
the river to the sea, and partly covered by abatis, had
been constructed, and the army was safe behind it.
Terry had succeeded in securing his foothold upon the
peninsula. The next day the artillery was landed,
and that night the guns were put into position, the naval
vessels keeping up a constant fire upon the fort.
The following day, Sunday, January 15th, was selected for
the grand assault. That day witnessed one of the
most magnificent spectacles of the war. That it
should have been the fate of the Forty-eighth
Regiment New York State Volunteers to have
participated in two grand assaults against the two
greatest sand-forts in history --Wagner and Fisher-- is a
noteworthy coincidence.
Arrangements were made for a cooperative attack by the
land and naval forces upon the Sabbath-day. All the
night before the monitors pounded the fort, giving the
garrison no rest, and no opportunity to repair the
damages made by the guns. At eight o'clock in the
morning all the ships of the fleet, excepting one
division (which was left to defend, if necessary, Terry's
line across the peninsula), moved up to the attack, and a
concentrated fire, accurate and terrible, from the whole
fleet was opened upon the doomed fort. From the
ships, also, 1400 marines and 600 sailors, armed with
carbines, cutlasses, and revolvers, landed to aid in the
work of assault. They dug little trenches in the
sand, under cover of the fire of their ships, and reached
a point within two hundred yards of the sea-front of the
fort, where they waited the order for attack.
And now, to obtain a clear idea of this magnificent and
successful assault, the reader must bear in mind the
formulation of the troops. General Albert Ames'
division was selected for the work; it consisted of
three brigades, commanded respectively by Curtis,
Pennypacker, and Bell. The Forty-eighth belonged to
the Second (Pennypacker's) Brigade. By noting the
part taken by Pennypacker's brigade in the following
description, the work of the Forty-eighth New York on
that day can be determined. The First Brigade
(Curtis's) was already in position at the front, within
three hundred yards of the fort. Pennypacker's
brigade formed about one hundred yards in their rear,
Bell's a like distance behind us. The formation was
made under some fire from the fort, during which William
B. Coan was wounded, and the command of the regiment
devolved upon Major Elfwing. At first, a hundred
sharp-shooters were thrown to the front. They ran
forward to within one hundred and seventy-five yards of
the work, dug themselves little rifle-pits for shelter,
and commenced firing at the parapets. Instantly
those parapets were alive with men, and the fort opened
upon us a heavy fire of infantry and artillery.
Then Curtis's brigade was moved to the front;
Pennypacker's took its place, and Bell's also
advanced. Curtis's brigade found shelter on the
reverse slope of a crest, about sixty yards in rear of
the sharp-shooters, and again moved forward to that
point, the regiment digging shallow trenches to cover
themselves wherever they halted. Pennypacker
followed Curtis, and Bell was brought up to the
outwork. At 3.25 P.M. everything was in readiness
for the assault.
A concerted signal was made to Admiral Porter to change
the direction of the fire of the fleet. Terry
ordered Ames to move forward to the attack.
Instantly Curtis's brigade sprang from their trenches and
dashed forward in line; its left was exposed to a heavy
enfilading fire, and it obliqued to the right in order to
envelop the left of the land-front. The ground over
which it moved was difficult and marshy, but it
soon reached the palisades, passed through them, and
effected a lodgement on the parapet. Then
Pennypacker was ordered forward to their support.
The Second Brigade advanced with all the dash and valor
for which they now had become famous, but not merely in
support of Curtis, for they overlapped him to the right,
and meeting the enemy at the heavy palisading which
extended from the west end of the land-face to the river,
drove him from it, capturing 400 prisoners, then pushed
forward to the left, and the two brigades now equally
advanced against the fort, rushed forward together with a
spring and a dash, and drove the entire enemy from about
one quarter of the land-face of the work. Then Ames
brought up Bell's brigade, moving it between the fort and
the river.
And now a terrible struggle ensued; hand-to-hand
fighting of the most desperate character between the
garrison of the fort and the brigades of Curtis and
Pennypacker was witnessed that day on the parapets of
Fort Fisher, while the fleet kept up its fire further to
the south, to prevent reinforcements reaching the fort
from Mound Battery. THe rebels used the traverses
of the land-front for breastworks, and over the tops of
these the contestants fired into each other's
faces. The struggle was desperate, but step by step
the Confederates were driven back until by six o'clock at
night two more traverses were carried, and the combat
practically ceased. After as magnificent a charge
-- lasting for hours -- as the war witnessed, Fort Fisher
had been taken at the point of the bayonet. The
trophies of the victory were 169 pieces of artillery,
2000 stand of small arms, quantities of ammunition and
commissary stores, 112 commissioned officers. and 1971
enlisted men as prisoners.
The glory must be shared equally by Curtis' and
Pennypackers' brigades. Colonel Curtis was wounded,
rifle in hand, while fighting in the front rank;
Colonel Pennypacker also, while carrying the standard of
one of his regiments, the first man in a charge, over one
of the traverses. Colonel Bell was mortally wounded
near the palisades. Thus all three
commanders of the brave brigades that did the fighting
fell. Pennypacker's brigade consisted that day of
the following regiments: Forty-seventh and
Forty-eighth New York, and the Seventy-sixth,
Ninety-seventh, and Two Hundred and Third
Pennsylvania. THey were the second in advance, but
followed rapidly and closely after the leading brigade in
every movement, and at the moment of reaching the fort
their lines merged with and extended beyond the flank of
the First Brigade, and entered the fort simultaneously
with them.
There was one incident of striking valor witnessed that
day on the sands in front of Fort Fisher that should be
mentioned. The color sergeant of the Forty-eighth
was Thomas Ban Tassel. As the brigade rushed
forward on the grand assault the color sergeants of the
Forty-eighth New York and Seventy-sixth Pennsylvania ran
ahead in the advance. The flag of the Seventy-sixth
Pennsylvania was a beautiful new one, but that of the
Forty-eighth New York could hardly be called a
flag; there was but little left of it but the staff
and a few ribbons, for it had been borne before on many a
battlefield. There was a peculiar contrast,
therefore, between the colors of the two regiments, whose
color sergeants were running side by side towards the
banks of Fort Fisher, and they planted their banners simultaneously
upon the captured parapets. It was a struggle as to
which would get there first, and it incited the men to a
wild enthusiasm to follow their flags to victory.
From mound to mound they fought through the whole
afternoon till the darkness of the night.
After the capture of the fort a fire was built to aid the
sailors on the ships in directing their fire. About
ten o'clock orders were received for a further
advance. The famous old regiment -- the Sixth
Connecticut -- which had been with us in the hottest fire
at Wagner, but which had not up to this point been
engaged in the fight at Fort Fisher, was now sent for and
put in advance. The rest followed them, but with
much irregularity, as the fighting of the day had
somewhat broken the formation of the regiments;
every regiment, however, clustered about its own flag,
and in the darkness of the night went forward. They
entered the fort, crossed it, but met no
opposition. The Sixth Connecticut then made an
advance toward Fort Buchanan, and there they found the
enemy, making prisoners of them all.
Meanwhile the Forty-eighth had built a fire and cooked
some coffee in a small kettle they had found in the
fort. But let no one suppose that the regiment at
this time was a long line of one thousand men, as it once
had been. So had its ranks been thinned by the
casualties of four years of fighting and many deadly
battles, that when the roll was called there in the
darkness within Fort Fisher, only eight
officers and seventeen enlisted men answered to their
names. The noble regiment had melted
away to that.
Later in the night the Second Brigade was sent to the
rear to guard the prisoners who had been captured upon
the beach. They remained there till the prisoners
were transferred to the ships and sent to the
North. THe Forty-eighth Regiment went into the
fight at Fort Fisher few in numbers, but they were in the
very front, and in the thickest of the fray; and
there is creditable record that a little handful of them,
with a few other of the Union soldiers on that day.
They had a peculiarly desperate fight about one of the
sand-mounds, the contingencies of which brought them so
far to the front. THey made a gallant dash at one
of the parapets of the fort, but were beaten back by
overwhelming numbers, some going into the fort and others
down the land-face over into the moat. By standing
sheltered in the ditch, and keeping up a fire upon the
parapets just above them, they compelled the evacuation
of two of the mounds, protected the men bringing up
ammunition from the rear, and finally advancing on their
own account, took possession of a rebel battery they
found unoccupied on the very top of the fort.
Individual instances of valor on that day were many, and
the loss of the regiment at Fort Fisher was more than one
fourth of its officers and more than one third of its
enlisted men. Yet so few were they in number that
the loss was only three officers and eleven enlisted
men. Captain James H. Dunn was killed. Some
of the Forty-eighth also were lost at the explosion of
the magazines of the fort the next morning.
I cannot forbear quoting the noble tribute to the valor
of the troops by Admiral Porter in his report to the
Secretary of the Navy. He says:
| "It will not be amiss for me to remark
here, that I never saw anything like the fearless
gallantry and endurance displayed by our
troops. They fought like lions, and knew no
such word as fail. They finally fought and
chased the rebels from traverse to traverse,
until they reached Battery Lamb at the mound, a
face of the work extending to about one thousand
four hundred yards in length. At this point
the rebels broke, and fled to the end of Federal
Point. Our troops followed them up, and
they surrendered at discretion. I have
visited Fort Fisher and its adjacent work, and
found their strength greatly beyond what I had
conceived. An engineer might be excusable
in saying that they could not be captured but by
regular siege. I wonder even now how it was
done. The works are tremendous. I was
in the Malakoff Tower a few days after its
surrender to the French and British. The
combined armies of those two nations were many
months capturing that stronghold, and it will not
compare either in size of strength to Fort
Fisher, and yet the latter was captured by a
handful of men under fire of the guns of the
fort, and in seven hours after the attack
commenced in earnest. The world never saw
such fighting as our soldiers did." |
That
gallant tribute by a brave sailor to brave soldiers was
as handsome as it was deserved.
The capture of Fort Fisher thrilled the whole country as
did the victories of Gettysburg and Vicksburg. It
won a great fame for General Terry and the troops that
fought under him. At last the Forty-eighth Regiment
had participated in a great battle which was not a
reverse or a doubtful victory, but a decided and
overwhelming triumph. Congratulatory addresses came
from everywhere. The Secretary of War, Mr. Edwin M.
Stanton, wrote a letter concerning it to President
Lincoln, highly complimentary to "the
column of 3000 troops of the old Tenth Corps."
Beauregard a few days before had pronounced the
fortification impregnable. It was another Fort
Wagner, though not nearly so fatal a spot nor so
desperately defended.
Our old enemy at Olustee, General A. H. Colquitt, was an
hour too late at Fort Fisher to meet us again, but he
came very near being captured by us there that
night. He ventured to make a little reconnaissance
in a row-boat to see how matters stood; he escaped
"by the skin of his teeth." The
Confederate General Whiting, writing from the hospital at
Goat Island on March 2nd, paid this tribute to the fire
of the Federal fleet:
| "It was beyond description; no
language can describe that terrific
bombardment: 143 shots a minute for
twenty-four hours! My traverses stood it
nobly, but by the direct fire the enemy were able
to bring upon the land-front they succeeded in
knocking down my guns there." |
If
Fort Fisher had been garrisoned and defended as Battery
Wagner was, the Union columns would have rushed upon its
flaming parapets in vain; but the long years of the
war had broken the spirit of the Confederate soldiers,
and they were destined never to display their former
valor again. The National loss in the attack was
only 681 men, of whom 8 were killed, 501 wounded, and 92
missing. At the accidental explosion of the
magazine within the fort next morning 200 were killed,
and 100 more wounded. The losses of the fleet were
about three hundred men; it had expended 50,000
shells in the bombardment. The fort was so slightly
damaged by the pounding it had received that it could
easily have been repaired; but our forces had no
use for it.
The minor fortifications upon the Cape Fear River were at
once evacuated by the enemy; the port of Wilmington
was now firmly closed to blockade-runners, and the town
itself was soon destined to be occupied by our
troops. General Terry posted his men behind an
intrenched line across the peninsula, some two or three
miles above Fort Fisher and Wilmington, and they had also
thrown up a line of intrenchments in Terry's front.
The fort was an extensive earthwork, that mounted a large
number of guns and commanded the approach both by land
and water; even its capture was not deemed
practicable by General Terry with his present force.
But the final campaign of the war was now at hand.
The magnificent devices of General Grant by which he
hemmed in the Confederacy on every side, were drawing to
their culmination. Sherman had made his march
successfully to the sea; Thomas had overwhelmed the
rebel army at the battle of Nashville; Lee's hold
on his vast trenches in front of Petersburg was
shaken; the entire Confederacy was on the eve of
collapse. Grant determined to open a way through
North Carolina to Goldsboro' in readiness for Sherman's
march northward to that point. With that objective
in view, he ordered General Schofield, with the
Twenty-third Army Corps, from Tennessee to the coast of
North Carolina; and that noble corps from the Army of the
Ohio, which had done famous service in the great battles
of the West, was transferred by steamers down the
Tennessee and up the Ohio to Cincinnati, with all its
horses and artillery, leaving only the wagons behind it,
and thence by railroad to Washington and
Alexandria. They reached the coast of North
Carolina in the early part of February, one division
(Cox's) landing near Fort Fisher, and others at New
Berne. Soon Terry's army of 8000 had become 20,000
men.
The Department of North Carolina was created, and
Major-General Schofield assigned to its command.
The Forty-eighth Regiment, with the brigades of Ames'
division of the old Tenth Corps, was now merged into this
new army. They had served in the Department of the
South, in the Army of the James, in the Army of the
Potomac, and now were merged into the Army of the Ohio in
the Department of North Carolina; and they
were yet destined, in the final days of the war, to
be united with Sherman's great army, that had tramped its
way from Atlanta to the sea, and from the sea north
straight through the Confederacy, to that point in North
Carolina where the rebellion finally and forever came to
its end.
On February 7th the Forty-eighth Regiment received a
reinforcement of two hundred and ten men under the
command of Major Barrett, from their old camp at Chapin's
Farm. Then began the march into the interior of
North Carolina, which was destined to be the last of
their many campaigns. General Schofield commanded
the army, General Terry the corps. On February 15th
Coxe's division of the Twenty-third Corps and Ames' of
the Tenth Corps crossed over to Smithfield, and
advancing along the main road to Wilmington,
skirmished with the rebel pickets in advance lines until
their main body at the works adjacent to Fort
Anderson. Coxe's division intrenched itself to
occupy the enemy, and Ames' division moved around the
swamps which covered their right, a distance of about
fifteen miles, in order to strike the Wilmington road in
the rear and to the north of the fort. Once more
the Forty-eighth participated in an important movement,
although the enemy did not give them battle; for
finding himself in danger of being flanked, he hastily
abandoned his works on the night of February 19th, and
Fort Anderson, with its adjacent defenses, fell into our
hands. The army continued to move forward without
any particular opposition until they reached the
outskirts of Wilmington on February 21st.
Here occurred a battle which is not so memorable as an
engagement, but which was a formidable affair to the
Forty-eighth. In approaching the city, our brigade
received orders to march to the left through a narrow
road along which only four men could walk abreast;
and suddenly, when the presence of an enemy was
unsuspected, every bush and stump in front of us seemed
to be alive with men, who opened aa terrible fire at
short range immediately upon us. Instantly the left
wing of the regiment was deployed as skirmishers, the
right wing supporting them, and a sharp battle
ensued. It was a constant series of little flank
movements; the men would run ahead and with
wonderful ingenuity throw up a few handfuls of dirt in
front of them, laying down behind it, firing at the
retreating enemy, then advancing again and repeat the
movement, then they would try flanking them; and
the little battles continued for hours. Bullets
fell thick and fast among us; and not until
midnight, when the place was evacuated by our division,
did we march back inside of the intrenchments, stack
arms, and go to sleep on the ground. The
Forty-eighth Regiment was nearly, if not entirely, the
only one hotly engaged in that little fight;
its losses were one officer and fifteen men. And
Major Barrett assures the writer that he was never more
proud of the regiment in all its history than that day in
front of Wilmington.
It was there that Major Elfwing was struck by a minieball
in the cap of his knee, requiring the amputation of his
leg. When the surgeon told him that his leg must be
cut off, the brave fellow replied, "Well, one pair
of boots will last me now long as two pair will
you."
The next day, February 22nd, Wilmington was occupied, and
the flag of the Republic floated on the breeze above
it. Learning that the rebel general, Johnston, was
in full retreat, but that his march was impeded by a
large number of Union prisoners whom he had with him, our
forces started n a fierce march in pursuit.
Skirmishing with the rear of his columns was continuous,
until at night our armies reached a little river which
Johnston had just crossed and burned the bridge behind
him. He sent a flag of truce, offering to surrender
the prisoners in his possession. We received them
gladly into our lines, and their joy was great at seeing
the old flag again. There were 10,000 of them,
among whom were some who had been captured from our own
regiment at Olustee and COld Harbor, and all of them were
naked and well-nigh starved to death. Major Barrett
says they "looked like living skeletons."
The men gladly shared with them their rations, and the
childish glee of the poor, emaciated fellows, who had
suffered untold privations in the rebel prison-pens, at
finding themselves among friends again, and at the
prospect of seeing their homes once more, can never be
forgotten.
Our forces returned to Wilmington with the prisoners, and
went into camp in a pea-nut field. There was great
sport at night when the men built their fires and the
pea-nuts began to crack. Digging for pea-nuts
became the rage, as digging for "yams" had been
long before at Dawfuskie. One of the prisoners was
a member of Company B of the Forty-eighth. He had
been wounded and captured at Olustee, Fla., on the 20th
of February, 1864, when he found himself, after a whole
year's imprisonment, in the midst of his old regiment, he
was so overjoyed that he burst into tears and wept like a
little child.
The writer has not included in this sketch of the history
of the regiment any record of the experiences of many of
its members in rebel prisons. He could do so with
ease. Nothing that has yet been written has
adequately described the sufferings that were
endured. What with freezing and starvation,
strong and robust men were soon reduced to gaunt and
famished skeletons. Idiocy followed, and after that
death. At the most moderate estimate, 40,000 Union
soldiers died in rebel prisons, amid atrocities that will
remain forever untold. Names of members of the
Forty-eighth New York can still be found on the wooden
slabs that mark their graves in the prison cemeteries at
Richmond and Andersonville, and every man of them might
have lived to reach his home again if he would have
consented to betray his country, and take the oath of
allegiance to the Confederate Government; but they
chose to die rather than to turn traitors. They
loved their honor more than the loved their lives, and
they did die in silence and humility, the saddest victims
and the supreme heroes of the war.
On March 12th General Schofield received orders from
General W. T. Sherman at Fayetteville to march at once
for Goldsboro', and to direct General Terry to do the
same. Then began the last long and weary
march. Starting from Wilmington on March 15th, the
regiment made twenty-five miles a day, and on the 21st
caught their first glimpse of Sherman' army. The
end was now near at hand, and the Forty-eighth Regiment
was destined to be "in at the finish."
Rations had become scarce, and the army subsisted by
foraging upon the country; coffee and tea were
luxuries that had been well-nigh forgotten. On
March 29th Grant was ready for his final movement against
Lee, and on April 2nd advanced upon his works. On
April 3rd Lee's army was in full retreat. Our
forces under General Weitzel entered the rebel capital,
and Richmond, after four years of cruel fighting, was
finally taken.
But Grant's army did not stop to occupy the city;
the major portion of it pushed on after Lee, and Sheridan
succeeded on the 9th in intercepting Lee's retreat.
The surrender of Lee to Grant at Appomattox followed.
During this time General Sherman was resting his army at
Goldsboro', N. C., but on April 11th orders came from
Grant to move forward at once against Johnston, and the
only remaining organized forces of the rebellion.
The news that Petersburg had fallen, Richmond had been
taken, and Lee's army had capitulated, fired the
enthusiasm of the Union soldiers in those last days of
the war. On April 10th two divisions of our corps
started on their march toward Raleigh, our brigade being
in advance. Johnston's army had destroyed the
bridges in their track, which greatly retarded our
march; the roads also at some points were hilly,
and at others passed through low swamps, where the men
were obliged to wade; and at night they slept on
the ground, with the sky their only covering. They
reached the neighborhood of Raleigh on April 14th, and
went into camp a short distance outside of the
city. Sherman pressed on after Johnston, and
finally met him at a place called Durham Station, about
twenty-five miles beyond Raleigh. There Johnston
sent out a flag of truce, and asked for terms of
surrender for his army. Sherman agreed to certain
terms, as is well known; but they were not approved
at Washington; indeed, they were highly
disapproved, and Grant was sent to supersede Sherman, and
arrange in person for the capitulation of Johnston.
The assassination of President Lincoln on April 14th had
exasperated the North, and especially the now victorious
Union armies. General Grant reached Raleigh on the
24th of April, and with a delicacy that has perhaps not
been appreciated, refused to supersede sherman in the
immediate command of his army, and pretended to act as a
sort of adviser to him. The same terms were finally
offered to Johnston that Grant had already made with Lee,
and Johnston surrendered to Sherman, who had pursued his
so relentlessly for more than a thousand miles.
Grant's consideration for Sherman on this occasion will
be remembered in history as one of many magnanimous
things that immortal soldier did.
After Johnston's surrender the Forty-eighth remained in
North Carolina, until it was finally sent home and
discharged. At Raleigh many of our officers were
detailed to special duty; for instance, Colonel
Coan, who had been mustered Colonel of the regiment,
commanded the brigade at first and subsequently the
division, Quartermaster Paddock was brigade
quartermaster, Adjutant Seaward was mustering officer,
Captain Hilliard ordinance officer, and Major Barrett
provost-marshal. The duties were mainly such as the
exigencies of the situation and the condition of the
people in their new relations demanded.
On June 10th the remnant of the One Hundred and
Seventeenth New York Volunteers was consolidated with the
FOrty-eighth.
It was while the regiment was in camp at Raleigh that the
unpleasant incident occurred which chilled the admiration
of the men for their corps commander. A review was
ordered by General Sherman, who said he wanted to see
"the heroes of Fort Fisher." Our forces
were ragged and footsore from their long march, and they
had shared their clothing and rations with the prisoners
they had rescued at Coxe's Bridge. They had
received many recruits also after Fort Fisher, and there
had been no opportunity to drill them; therefore
the regiment did not present as soldierly and appearance
as it might have done; but Major Barrett (to whose
account we are indebted for this incident) says,
"Bad as we looked, Sherman's men looked far worse,
and General Sherman himself seem ed well satisfied, but
General Terry was mortified and ashamed of the men who
had won his laurels for him. Next day he issued a
scathing order, denouncing us in unmeasured terms, and
ordering that we all be put to drill in the 'school of
the soldier.' Fancy if you can our indignation --
old veterans who had fought the war through to be
subjected to this indignity !"
Now that the war was over, military duty at Raleigh,
N.C., and along the railroads was not particularly
interesting, and the men greatly anxious to get
home; but they were destined to spend the long
summer in the South. Finally, on Sunday, September
3rd, they took the cars to City Point, then on to
Baltimore by steamer, and home by rail. The reached
New York City on the 5th of September, were sent to
Hart's Island for some days, and finally, on September
12, 1865, the pay-rolls were signed for the last time,
and the little handful of veteran heroes that composed
the last of the brave and noble regiment at its final
hour of life were mustered out.
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And now that we have come to the end of this history, and
look back at the four long years through which it has
been traced thus imperfectly, shall we not all feel proud
of the noble part our dear old regiment bore! It
has made the poor chronicler of its deeds love it more
than ever. What battles it fought, what marches it
made, what sufferings it endured for the Republic!
Its career has been traced for you, comrades (and for
your children), amid many difficulties, all the way from
its organization at Fort Hamilton in the summer of 1861,
to Washington and Annapolis, in the expedition to Port
Royal, at Port Royal Ferry, on Dawfuskie, building the
batteries on the mud islands on the Savannah River, in
FOrt Pulaski, and on Tybee; at Coosawhatchie and
Bluffton, to St. Helena and Folly Islands, at the
storming of Morris Island, at the assault on Fort Wagner,
at Olustee; then in the Army of the James at
Chester Heights, Drewry's Bluff, Cold Harbor, Petersburg
mine explosion, Deep Bottom, Strawberry Plains, Fort
Fisher, Wilmington, Raleigh, and back to New York
again. It went to the field in 1861 with 964
men; and during the four years about 1250 recruits
and transfers were added to it. Its
losses in battle were nine hundred and forty-seven,
and one hundred and twenty-seven deaths from
disease. Let us not claim for it honors superior to
those of many other regiments in the army; but its
career lasted through the whole four years, and whatever
work was assigned to it, that it did faithfully.
May this chapter close with a few words concerning
certain officers of the regiment of whom too little has
been said?
The Forty-eighth had two chaplains and several
surgeons. A note has been received from the Rev.
William Howell Taylor, dated St. Augustine, Fla., which
gives a brief account of how he came to be the second
chaplain of the regiment. He says:
| "In 1863, being pastor of the First
Presbyterian Church at Clifton, S. I., I took the
superior work of the Christian Commission in the
Department of the South for six months, my
congregation being unwilling to release me, and
giving me leave of absence for that period.
I accompanied the expedition to Florida. On
returning to my congregation I received a request
from the commanding officers of the
Forty-seventh, Forty-eighth and One Hundred and
Fifteenth New York regiments and a formal
invitation from the Forty-eighth to become
chaplain. I finally brought the matter
before my people, resigned, accepted the
commission, and was mustered in. I served
with the regiment in Virginia and on the
expedition to Fort Fisher, etc. Then was
ordered to Point of Rocks Hospital, where I was
when Richmond was evacuated, and entered the city
the day it fell. Mustered out in
June; elected chaplain of the Army of the
James, but failing health compelled me to give up
my church in Brooklyn and all official positions,
and travel. I now have been an invalid for
eight years, most of the time South." |
From our first chaplain, the
Rev. Dr. W. P. Strickland, there has been received a
longer account of his services. He says that one
day he --
"was in company with
Colonel Perry, who said to me, 'I have many
applications for the chaplaincy of my regiment,
but I want you for that post.' My son being
one of his captains was urged as an additional
reason why I should join the Forty-eighth;
and I was appointed chaplain by Colonel Perry,
and at once entered upon my duties, preaching
every Sunday to the regiment stationed at Camp
Wyman, and offering prayers at
dress-parade. My commission bears date
December 14, 1861, although I entered the service
earlier. Some of the commissioned officers
and quite a number of the men were members of the
church, which circumstance gave the regiment the
name of 'Perry's Saints.' I visited the
sick, and distributed papers and religious books
and tracts in the tents. While at Dawfuskie
Island I had place prepared for holding meetings
in the woods. A rude pulpit was made, and
the regiment sat around on the grass and
leaves. Those who refused to attend were
formed in a company and roughly exercised in the
double-quick. I thought there was more sin
in this than in not attending meeting,
though the army regulations required attendance
at religious worship. Afterwards, at Fort
Pulaski, as there was quite a number of Roman
Catholics in the regiment, who were forbidden by
their church to attend Protestant worship, I
succeeded in having them excused. I wrote
to Archbishop Hughes of New York, requesting him
to send me a priest, promising to take him into
my casemate, and afford him every facility for
ministering to his brethren. In reply, he
thanked me for this kind feeling, but could not
comply with my request, as the regiment was in
the diocese of the Bishop of Savannah. When
the Catholics learned of my interest in their
behalf the most of them afterward attended
worship.
"A casemate was
assigned me for meetings in the fort, which we
held every night, except Saturday, which was set
apart for temperance meetings. A
Sunday-school was organized with five teachers
and sixty scholars; also one for the
contrabands, with a hundred scholars. I
also organized a church, and appointed exhorters
and class-leaders. On Sunday, the casemate
being too small, I preached on the
terre-plein. I also formed a class at the
Martello Tower, and one for the colored people at
the Sky Lark House, near the dock. I never
witnessed more interesting meetings than some we
held in the casemate, and witnessed several
conversions. I also visited the hospitals
daily, prayed with the sick, and gave a word of
exhortation. Many who say that the
chaplaincy is a sinecure know not of what they
affirm. While I was absent at home on a
furlough Colonel Perry was suddenly called to
another world. When I returned I improved
the occasion by a sermon in commemoration, in
which I astonished his fellow-officers and men
'to be also ready, for in such an hour as ye
think not the Son of man cometh.'
"General Mitchel
was ordered to succeed General Hunter. When
I met him on the Arago, having previously
known him in Cincinnati, I said to him,
"What brought you here, General?' He
replied, 'I came here to be buried.'
Whether he meant this remark as figurative or
literal I do not know, but it signally proved to
be the latter. One morning I was surprised
to learn from the signal officer that General
Mitchel had ordered Colonel Barton to send me at
once by the steamer to Beaufort. Many were
the durmises in regard to this order.
Though one or both of General Mitchel's sons had
died of yellow fever, they thought it strange,
having so many chaplains around him, he should
send for me. The officers objected to my
going, not only on my own account, but the danger
of my bringing fever to the fort. I said I
would obey orders if I took the fever and
died; but I had no fear, as the path of
duty is the only path of safety.
"on entering
General Mitchel's room he beckoned me to come to
his side, and, taking my hand, requested me to
offer prayer. He said the religion which he
had professed for thirty years sustained him in
that hour. When he became so ill that he
lost the power of speech, he raised his left arm
and pointed with his index-finger to the
skies. Then letting it fall gently, he
raised his right arm, and, pointing upward,
closed his eyes and fell asleep. he must
have had a vision beyond the stars more glorious
than any he had seen through his great telescope
at Mount Adams. I preached a funeral
discourse and read the burial-service at the
church and grave. On my return I repeated
the sermon at the fort at the request of Colonel
Barton. It was afterward published in the Church
Advocate of New York. I remained with
the regiment until my wife became dangerously
ill, when I resigned. She died shortly
after I came home.
"Thus I have given
you a few incidents of my life in the
service. My diary, which I kept, contains
enough to fill a volume; but I trust the
above short sketch will be all that is necessary
for your purpose. God bless you in your
work. Yours truly,
W. P. Strickland" |
Chaplain Strickland died in
July, 1885, at Ocean Grove, N.J.
The first surgeon of the regiment was Joseph L. Mulford,
M.D.; he was practicing medicine at Matawan, N.J.,
when the war broke out; he enlisted with the
Forty-eighth New York, and was commissioned surgeon in
October, 1861, to rank from the preceding 5th of
September. He was with the regiment on the Port
Royal expedition, and indeed throughout its career, until
the fall off '64. Often he was assigned to the
staff of brigade commanders, and at one time he was
division surgeon. He was especially skillful in
surgical operations, and the most of our desperately
wounded men at Morris Island and at Fort Wagner came
under his kindly care. He was engaged in operating
upon and attending the wounded after the battle of Cold
Harbor for four days and nights without rest;
indeed, for every battle the boys who had the misfortune
to be wounded found relief at Surgeon Mulford's hand.
In the fall of '64 he accepted a staff position, and was
assigned to duty at the hospitals at the headquarters of
the general army corps for the winter. In the
succeeding May he was sent to New Berne, N. C., and
placed in charge of the Foster General Hospital;
thence he was sent to Greensboro', N.C., receiving his
final discharge August 25, 1865. WHile holding his
staff position, he was often in charge of steamers used
for conveying the wounded to Hampton, Norfolk, and
Washington, --among others the steamers Matilda,
the Thomas Powell, and the George
Washington, operating day and night.
The foregoing brief record is a poor and inadequate
account of the great and invaluable service which Dr.
Mulford rendered to the Forty-eighth Regiment.
After the war he settled in New Brunswick, N.J., where he
practiced his profession successfully until 1880, when,
his health failing, he was given a contract as acting
assistant-surgeon, and spent three years in the army in
Texas. In the summer of 1883 he returned North with
restored health, and is now (1885) practicing his
profession in New Brunswick, N.J., and in New York City.
Quartermaster Irving M. Avery, to whom the regiment owed
so much, and whom all trusted and esteemed, stayed with
us his full three years. He was attentive to all of
our interests and unwearied in his care for us. Few
regiments could boast of a Quartermaster so efficient,
and none of one more popular. He now resides in
Brooklyn, is hale and happy, and he and his good wife are
still our valued friends.
The writer began this history with the sketch of its
first Colonel, James H. Perry. How can he better
close it than by a a brief sketch of its last commander,
William B. Coan? Colonel Coan was born in Exeter,
Penobscot County, Me., was a Cape Cod sea-captain, was
taken prisoner and confined in England during the French
spoliation. The Colonel's father, Abraham Coan, was
also a native of Maine, and moved to Exeter in his
eighteenth year. He married Mary Abbott. The
Colonel was the second son, the family consisting of six
brothers and one sister. Only one brother, Captain
Alonzo Coan of Boulder, Col., and the sister, Mrs. James
R. Simpson, of Lawrence, Mass., survive. Colonel
Coan went from Maine to New York when a boy, and at the
outbreak of the war was a partner in a restaurant on
Chambers Street. He went to the front for thirty
days with New York's famous Seventh Regiment, and
returning, raised Company E for the Forty-eighth New
York, and was commissioned its Captain. He served
through the war from the first to the last, being one of
four original commissioned officers of the regiment who
remained with it at its final discharge. He was
three time wounded, once in the leg, once in the ear, and
the third and most serious one, a scalp-wound at Fort
Fisher. He received repeated mention in official
orders for gallantry of conduct in battle. No man
ever doubted his bravery. After the war Colonel
Coan settled in Lawrence, Mass., and engaged in the
grocery business until his death, on January 28, 1877.
The Colonel was married, and leaves one son, William A.
Coan. Colonel Coan was brave in battle, honest in
his dealings, liberal-hearted, unassuming, and quick in
his sensibilities. He willfully wronged no
man. His sense of honor was keen, and what he
believed to be right, that he did. The writer is
indebted to his brother-in-law, Mt. J. R. Simpson, for
the foregoing data. He had, however, seen Colonel
Coan since the war, having called upon him at his store
in Lawrence two or three times. His sudden and sad
death was a great shock to all who loved him. His
record is the record of his regiment; whoever would
know in what battles he participated, let them follow the
fortunes of Company E and the Forty-eighth New
York. He was a member of Post No. 39, G. A. R. of
Massachusetts; beyond that he belonged to no secret
organizations. the survivors of the Forty-eighth
will ever cherish the memory of their last commander,
Colonel William Bloomfield Coan.
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