Lieutenant John William Grout

Lieutenant John William Grout, the subject of “The Vacant Chair,” was the only son of Jonathan and Mary Jane Grout, and was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, July 25th, 1843. His father was a successful business man, and the son enjoyed the excellent educational advantages given to the young in that enterprising city. He was a bright boy, and a favorite of his playmates, by whom he was familiarly known as Willie Grout. It soon was evident that he was by nature endowed with rare gifts, physically and mentally.

“Of medium stature and symmetrical proportions, erect carriage and remarkably fine and manly features, and with elastic vigor and the glow of health, he might have been selected as a model by an artist.”

The photograph herewith given, which was taken just before his departure for the war, is an excellent likeness of his personal presence. He was a diligent student, and mastered easily subjects to which his attention was given; but he turned with special interest to history, in its relation to nations, and their conflicts one with another. He seemed to have been born for a military life; and inherited undoubtedly a love for the camp from his ancestors. “He was of the sixth generation from John of Sudbury, who was a grandson of an English Knight, and who distinguished himself for his heroism in leading his townsmen triumphantly against the assaults of the Indians in 1676, — for which he was rewarded with a Captaincy, then a substitute for Knighthood in England.”

It was early a question what profession in life he should follow, — a matter which was not settled till he entered the Highland School in his native city, where in the Military Department his wishes were gratified. He joined the company of Cadets, and soon became its commander. Hardly had his [ambition] been thus gratified, when the Civil War became the all-absorbing matter of interest to the people.

No one was quicker than he to see that 11 is hour had come, and he desired at once to enter the army; but his parents withheld their consent for a while, chiefly on account of his youth, for he had barely attained the age when his country could legally claim his services. When however, they yielded to his importunity, his joy knew no bounds; and with all the ardor of his nature he began preparations for the service before him, such as sleeping on the floor to inure himself to the hardships of life in camp.

When the Massachusetts 15th Regiment was organized, he received the commission of second lieutenant of Company D, — an honor rarely bestowed upon so young a person. He was very popular in the regiment. His knowledge of military tactics was such that his services as a drillmaster were in constant demand.

“He assured his friends, not with buoyant rashness, but with serious candor, that he had girded on his armor for all the emergencies of war, and for victory or death. He seemed to feel the solemnities as well as the [responsibilities] of his position, but never faltered in his purpose, or in the duties he was [subsequently] called to discharge.

“It was the fortune of the Massachusetts 15th Regiment to do the greatest execution, and suffer the greatest loss, in that disastrous conflict at Ball's Bluff, October 21, 1861.”

The coolness, self-possession, and courage of Lieutenant Grout were noticed by his comrades with astonishment, and greatly stimulated the courage of others. When the day was lost, and they were forced to retreat to the river, he seemed to be utterly regardless of himself in his desire to have the wounded conveyed to the opposite shore. To his honor let it ever be remembered that he crossed the stream with a boat-load of the sufferers, and seeing them safely landed, returned to render like assistance to others; and continued so to do till he was obliged to plunge into the stream to save his own life. He had reached the middle of the river when he exclaimed to a comrade at his side, “Tell Company D I could have reached the shore, but I am shot, and must sink;” and as the waters closed over him, his spirit took its flight from the throes and conflicts of earth.

When his death was announced, Col. Devens with deep emotion said, “Dear little fellow; he came to me at the close of the battle and said, ‘Colonel, can I do anything more for you?’ and I replied, ‘Nothing but take care of yourself.’”

For several weeks the Potomac held his body in its embrace, to be finally surrendered to loving hands, from whence it was tenderly borne to his native city for burial.

The heart of the old Commonwealth had never known a sadder day than when his remains, under the escort of the Highland Cadets, attended by the mayor and both branches of the city government, Col. Devens, and a large concourse of sympathizing citizens, were taken to the cemetery for interment.

Many tears were mingled with the volleys fired over the grave of the hero, who, at the early age of eighteen, fell a voluntary sacrifice upon the altar of his country.

SOURCE: Henry Stevenson Washburn , The Vacant Chair and Other Poems, p. 15-18

Major Wilder Dwight: Saturday Night, October 26, 1861

Camp Near The Little Seneca, Saturday Night,

9 o'clock, P. M.

He who predicts the morrow in this life has his labor for his pains. The morrow takes care of itself. Here we are, and tattoo is just beating again, and we are twelve miles from our last night's camp. I will go on with my story. When I got to the river, I began to carry out my instructions from General Hamilton. They were, to visit Harrison's Island, which was abandoned by our troops on Tuesday night, and bring off some government stores. I found that, owing to the stupidity of the officer whom I had left in charge at the point of crossing opposite the island, one of the ropes had been cut, and there was only one rope left stretching across the river on which I could ferry my men over. I got my men ready, took the two leaky flatboats and moored them well, and waited for darkness. The night was very cold. In its cover we started with one boat, leaving directions for the other to follow after we got across and got things secure. We pulled across silently on the rope which came up out of the water, and sagged a good deal with the stream. Just as we got within the shadows of the opposite bank, the Sergeant whispered, “Hold on, the rope has broken.” The men held on by the end, and, sure enough, it had parted, and we were swinging off down stream away from the island. There was something laughable in the mischance. We had nothing for it but to return, which we did, coiling the rope in our boat as we went back. So ended all visits, for the present, by our troops to Harrison's Island. I was kept on the alert all night by firing up the river, and got no sleep of any consequence, — sending and receiving despatches from General Hamilton. At light, — a bright, golden, October morning, ice an inch thick, — I visited all the outlooks, and then went back to camp to report to General Hamilton. After breakfast, on Friday morning, the Colonel suggested that we should ride to the Fifteenth and Twentieth.

I went to see Lieutenant-Colonel Ward. He has lost his leg, below the knee. Said he, “Major, I am not as I was in Washington.” “No,” said I, “you should have accepted my invitation, and ridden up with me on Monday.” We were together last Saturday night at Willard's, and I begged him to wait till Monday and go up with me. He said, “No, I shall be needed in camp.”

We then went to the Twentieth. I wish all the friends of the young wounded officers could see them; it was a pleasant picture. In the first tent I visited I found Captain John Putnam. He was bright and in good spirits. I shook his left hand. His right arm is gone at the shoulder. Turning to the other bed, I met the pleasant smile of Lieutenant Holmes. He greeted me as cordially as if we had met at home, talked gayly of soon getting well again. His wound is through the body sideways, just missing the lungs, and following the ribs. Young Lieutenant Lowell, too, in the next tent, was making light of only a flesh wound in the thigh. Caspar Crowninshield, whom I found helping Colonel Palfrey, and acting as Major, was as calm as possible. He gave a very good account of the fight; he evidently did gloriously. Only once, when he spoke of the terrible scene in the river after they got in swimming, did he seem to think of the horrors of the scene. Young Harry Sturgis was also bright. He said that Lieutenant Putnam, who was wounded in the bowels, wished to be left, as he said, to die on the field. “That is the fit place to die,” he said. But Harry took him in his arms and brought him to the river. Young Abbott looked well. Lieutenant Perry is a prisoner, but I think safe, without doubt. So of Major Revere and Colonel Lee. When we got back to camp I got a report from the river that the enemy were quite numerous on the opposite bluff, and that they were putting a field-piece in position there. Though I did not credit it, down I went, and spent the afternoon. We found they had occupied, or rather visited, the island. My glass let me see them plainly in many places, and in others they were within familiar conversational distance. I found they were re-establishing their pickets strongly. I left Captain Curtis in charge, and returned to camp. I found that I was detailed as one of the Examining Board for our division. The Board consists of General Hamilton, Colonel Halleck, and myself. We are to examine the officers as to their qualifications, &c. I cannot approve of my appointment, but as it emanates from the Head-quarters of the Army of the Potomac, I suppose it is all right.

This morning I was sitting at breakfast, when up rode General Hamilton's aide. “Major,” said he, “General Hamilton says you will move your detachment at once.” “What detachment?” said I. “The advanced guard and pioneers,” said he. “I have no orders,” said I, “and no guard.” “There is some mistake,” said he. Then up came a lieutenant from an Indiana regiment. “I am ordered to report to you,” said he. “Very well,” said I. I went over to General Hamilton, and found the whole brigade was under marching orders. By inadvertence we had not received ours. All the rest of the brigade were ready to start, and our tents were all standing. I went off at once, with my pioneers, and put the road in condition. Here we are in camp. Our regiment was, of course, the last to start. All the others were in motion before our tents were struck. But our regiment passed all the others on the way, and was first in camp to-night. We can march. Our night march to the Ferry was perfect. Life is brisk with us, you see.

I have father's letter about the stockings. After our wretched wet marching, the stockings will be a mercy, I think. Please to tell Mrs. Ticknor that towels, one apiece, will be good for us. I did not think of mentioning them, as, in the seriousness of actual business, the luxuries are lost sight of. The regiment will move to-morrow to the neighborhood of the mouth of the Muddy Branch, near the Potomac. There we are to go into camp for the present. So ends our week's work. Hard and busy, but not without its use. This morning, as our company on picket-duty came along the canal to rejoin the regiment, the Rebels from the island fired on them several times. They were also busy diving and fishing for the guns which the men threw away in their flight.

The rascals are very saucy over their victory. I think they have the advantage of our men in the chaffing which goes on across the river, though one of our corporals told the sentry opposite him, who was washing his feet, to take his feet out of his (the corporal's) river, or he would shoot him.

“Reveillé” will sound at five o'clock to-morrow morning, and at seven we shall be off and away. We are within three miles of our old camp. To-morrow we go somewhat nearer Washington.

No paper that I have yet seen gives any idea of the fight, as I glean it from various sources. No generalship seems to have been used in the matter. Not a military glance seems to have swept the field, not a military suggestion seems to have planned the enterprise. The men crossed at the worst point of the river; they had only two small scows to cross with; retreat was impossible.

If you could see how completely this rocky, wooded bluff (of which I have attempted a sketch on the opposite page) overhangs the island and the opposite shore, you would realize what a mad place it was to cross at. If you could see the scows, you would see what means they had to cross.

Again, the disposition of the troops was wretched. The formation close upon the bluff, and with their rear right upon the river, gave no chance to repair mischance. Also, the thick wood which surrounded them gave the enemy every opportunity to outflank them. If they had meant to fight, they should have rested one of their flanks on the river, and have protected the other by artillery. This would have made their line perpendicular to the river. Their retreat might have been up or down stream. But they could, probably, have prolonged the fight till night, and then run for luck in crossing. Such a position would have been stronger, and retreat would have been less fatal. But they thought apparently the two scows their line of retreat, while, in fact, they were as bad as nothing. There does not seem to be a single redeeming feature in the whole business. They went on a fool's errand, — went without means, and then persisted in their folly after it became clear

It is useless to talk of what might have been; but if you had walked, as I have done, for the past three days on that canal tow-path opposite the bluff on whose crest our brave men formed for a desperate struggle, you could not help discoursing upon the military grotesqueness of the whole action. I have said there is no redeeming feature in the whole case. I am wrong. The determined courage of Massachusetts officers and soldiers is a cheering gleam through the gloom. But Heaven save us from any more such tests of valor. “The officer who brought you here ought to be hung,” said a Rebel officer to the burial party who went over with a flag of truce on Tuesday to bury our dead. I am afraid that is too true.

The Rebels, on the other hand, managed finely. They seem to have waited till they had caught a goodly number, and then to have sprung their trap ruthlessly. McClellan's first question was, “How did our men fight?” The answer is plain, — like heroes. If the men were properly officered, they would be the best troops in the world

The blunder and its consequences are of the past. The future must be freighted with better hopes. As far as our military position is concerned, except for the loss of life, and perhaps of time, all is as well to-day as a week ago.

We cannot be thankful enough for the mercy which spared our regiment from having any other share in the movement than to aid in repairing its disasters. I shall not soon forget that night's march, and that gloomy morning. God bless you all at home! We can trust, and must trust, in that Power which will overrule everything for good. Good night. I must get some sleep for to-morrow's march.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 125-30

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday Evening, October 25, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 25,

Friday Evening.

I shall try to send you some, pictures, though I am too tired to-night for anything but sleep.

Scene, our old camp; time, evening. The regiment just getting into marching array under crisp starlight. The men gay with singing and laughter. The camp one huge bonfire of old bedding and tent-floors. Every man in fine marching condition. Again: Scene, the bank of the canal at Conrad's Ferry; time, eight o'clock the next morning. The regiment huddled in dripping groups, under a driving rain. The men tired and silent. Ambulances of wounded men passing by. Blankets swung on poles, covering the bodies of the slain, and borne along with that heavy, dull tread which betokens the presence of death. Jaded stragglers from the river hurrying back, cold and half naked, to their camps; the interchange of greetings and tidings. The Colonel and other field-officers huddled under an apple tree, breakfasting upon a hard-boiled egg, and shivering over a feeble fire, questioning stragglers about the fight. Up comes a Yankee-looking fellow, clad only in an overcoat, with that peculiar hunched-up movement which indicates shuddering cold. Dialogue between Colonel Gordon and Yankee. Colonel G. Where do you come from? Y. The river. G. What regiment? Y. Massachusetts Fifteenth. G. Did you fight? Y. Wal, I guess we did some. G. How many times did you fire? Y. Thirty or forty. G. What did you do during the day? Y. Wal, at first we was skirmishing along, and I got behind a tree, and I was doing first rate. I come out once, but I see a feller sightin' at me, and so I got in again suddin. Then, arter a while, the cavalry came down on us. I see there wa'n't much chance, and so I just dropped into a hole there was there, and stayed still. Pretty soon we retreated towards the river. We got together there, and formed a kind of a line, and then the fitin' really began. Some fellers came out near us, and says they, “We 're Colonel Baker's men.” “Guess not,” says I. “Yes we are,” says they. “I know better,” says I. “Let 'er rip, boys!” and we fired on 'em. But 't wa'n't no kind o' use. Baker got killed, and we couldn't see the enemy, and they raked us like death. I finally come down the bank with the rest on 'em. I see Colonel Devens there. Says I, “Colonel, wot's to be done now?” “Boys,” says he, “you must take care of yourselves.” “All right, Colonel,” says I. And the way my 'couterments come off was a caution. I swum the river. But I tell you there was a sight on 'em didn't get across.” G. Do you want to go back again? Y. Wal, not till I get rested. G. You 're cold, ain't you? Y. I tell you, I just am. G. Don't you want some whiskey? Y. Don't I? (Yankee takes a pull at the Colonel's flask, and expresses himself only by a long, silent, intensely meaning wink.) Yankee then turns and sees a shivering figure approaching. “Hullo, John; I never expected to see you again. Wal, I guess we'd better go to camp,” and off he moves. The drollery of the scene I cannot give. I just indicate an outline of the cool, circumstantial narratives that every other man would give you. We found none so amusing as this, which relieved our tedious breakfast. But the men showed no fear, and, only by an occasional allusion, any sense of the terrors through which some of them had passed. Their only idea seemed to be, If there only had been more of us, how we would have licked 'em! All accounts agree that the two Massachusetts regiments fought splendidly, as far as individual daring and coolness go.

I sent you off a letter yesterday; for I must continue my story without a formal introduction of each picture. I mailed the letter with the ink wet upon it, and went off on my duty to the river, to take charge of my picket-line along the canal. But as tattoo is now beating, and as I put on my clothes in Washington on Monday morning and have not yet taken them off this Friday night, I will tell the rest of my story to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 123-4

Major Wilder Dwight: Thursday Morning, October 24, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 24, 1861,

Thursday Morning.

The violation of every rule and maxim of military law, the exaction of the extreme penalty therefor. Such is the summing up of the massacre near Leesburg. Does it awaken you to the fact that politicians are not generals?

But how shall I tell you the story of these trying days? I wrote a hasty word as our line was forming on Monday night. We marched gayly and willingly off in the moonlight towards Poolesville, at nine o'clock in the evening.

We supposod we were to cross at Edward's Ferry, to aid in a victorious advance upon Leesburg. The men marched splendidly. At Poolesville we first met the faint shadows of the coming gloom, — a few stragglers of the Fifteenth Massachusetts. “Our companies are all cut to pieces. Our captain is shot; our lieutenant-colonel has lost his leg; we have all been cut up,” &c. On we went, more earnestly, and took the road to Conrad's Ferry. Then we began to meet the flying and scattered soldiers. One with only an overcoat, another with only a blanket, another with even less. They all told one story, of flight and death and despair. Still we pressed on. Our men were eager to reach the Ferry. We got there at about three o'clock in the morning. Eighteen miles in between six and seven hours. Then came the rain, and then came the order to stay where we were. The morning broke, — a wild, gusty, rainy morning, — upon our shelterless and weary regiment. The only house near where the regiment stopped was filled with the wounded. As soon as I could get away, I galloped down to the place of crossing. I saw them letting down a wounded man on a stretcher into the canal-boat. It was Captain John Putnam, a clever fellow, of the New England Guards. I turned and went down to the river, meeting on my way a dead one, and, as I passed, one of the soldiers who carried him turned up the face, and said, “Yes, this is one of the Tammany boys.” I went to the river, to a flat-boat full of wounded; found Dr. Hay ward, of the Twentieth. He said that Lieutenant Putnam, Mrs. Sam Putnam's son, was in the boat, badly wounded. I spoke to him; he was bright, but evidently sinking. I asked him if I could do anything for him, telling him who I was. He said, eagerly, “I should like to see Lieutenant Higginson.” I said I would bring him. Then I asked about Caspar Crowninshield, Abbott, Lowell, Holmes. Caspar, they thought, was wounded. Abbott, safe. Lowell and Holmes, both wounded. A little while after Caspar turned up. Ho was in the primitive costume of his overcoat and drawers, but full of cheery pluck, calm, clear, and a young hero in bearing and aspect. He gave a clear account of himself. I was compelled to go back to the regiment. I sent Lieutenant Higginson down, and did what I could for the men.

I had been in the saddle about twenty-four hours, and without sleep, and I got into the house among the wounded, and fell asleep on a camp-stool. Soon we were off again to put the regiment in camp under cover of a wood. Just as we got in camp, General Hamilton ordered five companies to go on picket along the river-bank The next morning at daylight, still raining, we were ordered to strike our tents, and move back out of cannon range from the river. We came to our present camp. General Hamilton then ordered me to take three companies to the river, and post pickets and keep a lookout. I started. At about three o'clock I returned to report to the General the position of things on the river, when I found General Banks and General McClellan in his quarters. I enjoyed hearing McClellan talk for half an hour. One good remark of his I recall. “Well,” said he, “so far we seem to have applied a new maxim of war, always to meet the enemy with an inferior force at the point of attack.” General Hamilton then ordered me to return, and cross to the island at night, and remove some stores which had been left there. I started off again. I got my preparations all made, when an order came, at about eight, P. M., “Take your companies at once to Edward's Ferry to cross. The enemy is in force there.” I drew in my pickets, and got ready to move promptly, when I was met, just as I started, by a mounted orderly, with a note addressed to the officer in command moving towards Edward's Ferry. “Return to your camp, and await further orders.” I turned back. The orderly had orders for General Hamilton, and did not know how to find him. It was dark, and I took my horse and rode with him to General Hamilton's quarters. Our regiment had started for Edward's Ferry before the orderly arrived. When they got there, they were ordered to return, and did so. This made the third night of fatiguing marching or guard duty, and to-day they are just done up. My three companies got their rest, however, at the river. It turns out that we were to support Stone, but McClellan suddenly determined to withdraw him, and so the countermanding order. To-night I go back to the river, and go over to the island to remove the government stores. That will give me a lively night again. I ought to be very tired, but excitement makes me feel the fatigue very little. . . . .

Providence seems to have watched over the Massachusetts Second, does it not? It has saved us from Bull Run, and now, from a worse blunder. For what has it reserved us? I hope and pray for the guidance of a good general, unhampered. I must go back to the Ferry. Good by. Love to all. God bless you.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 120-2

Major-General John Sedgwick to John A. Andrew, December 5, 1862

Washington, D. C, December 5, 1862.

To his Excellency,

John A. Andrew,

Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,

Governor:

In compliance with your circular of the 5th ultimo, I have the honour to submit a brief report of the operations and actions of such Massachusetts regiments as have been under my command. On the 25th of February, 1862, I assumed command of the division previously commanded by Brigadier-General Stone, at that time doing important guard duty on the upper Potomac. The 15th, 19th, and 20th Massachusetts regiments formed a part of the division, and had for the four previous months performed active and arduous duty in guarding the river. The 15th and 20th were engaged in the battle of Ball's Bluff, and are reported to have behaved with great gallantry. On the 27th of February the division was ordered to Harper's Ferry to operate with General Banks in driving the enemy out of the Shenandoah Valley. This having been successfully accomplished without a general engagement, the division was ordered to Washington to form part of the Army of the Potomac, there embarking for the Peninsula.

We landed at Hampton, Virginia, March 30, 1862, and on the 5th of April found the enemy strongly entrenched around Yorktown. The siege lasted thirty days, and although no brilliant action was fought, skirmishing and picket warfare were carried on the whole time.

After the evacuation of Yorktown, the division formed a part of the expedition, under General Franklin, ordered up the York River to seize the railroads at West Point. The enemy having attempted to interrupt the landing, the 19th and 20th were engaged in the brilliant skirmish in which the enemy was repulsed. On the 31st of May the 15th and the 20th were engaged in the great battle of Fair Oaks. The 15th, as a part of Gorman's brigade, made a brilliant bayonet charge, which routed and drove the enemy from that portion of the field, and there we bivouacked. The next morning the enemy renewed the attack, but principally on Richardson's division, and these regiments were but partially engaged. During this time the 19th was performing important duty in guarding the bridge across the Chickahominy.

From this time until the movement on James River no action was fought, but the troops were constantly engaged in reconnoissances, skirmishes, picket duty, and labour of the most arduous kind. On the 30th of June we commenced the march upon James River. This was a scene of battles and combats the whole distance. In the morning the 20th, temporarily attached to Burns's brigade, was warmly engaged at Allen's Farm with a superior force, and behaved most handsomely. In the evening the battle at Savage's Station was fought, in which the 15th, 19th, and 20th were engaged, repulsing the enemy at every point. After a long night's march across White Oak Swamp, the next day found the same regiments at Glendale (Nelson's Farm), engaged with the enemy at close quarters for three hours, routing and driving them from the field. Another day's march, and daylight found them ready for action at Malvern Hill. After this day's hard fight another night's march brought them to Harrison's Landing.

During all this — marching by night, fighting by day, without rest, and short of rations — no troops ever behaved better. On the 3rd of August these regiments formed part of the force under General Hooker which retook and held Malvern Hill. On the 16th of August the evacuation of the Peninsula was commenced. The division marched via Yorktown to Newport News, embarked for Alexandria, landed the 29th, marched to Chain Bridge, returned to Alexandria, and then marched to the relief of General Pope's army.

After its retreat on Washington, the division formed a part of the army under General McClellan ordered in pursuit of Lee, then invading Maryland. On the 15th of September the enemy was found strongly posted in the passes of South Mountain, from which he was driven with great loss. On the 17th, near Sharpsburg, was fought the battle of Antietam, where these regiments (now greatly reduced in numbers) were in the hottest of the fight, as their list of killed and wounded testifies. As I was wounded early in the action, I had no opportunity of seeing them, and have not seen the reports of the Brigadiers, but have no reason to believe their conduct different from that on all other occasions. Since that the division marched to Harper's Ferry, Warrenton, and are now in front of Fredericksburg.

I have already forwarded through the military channels a list of officers and soldiers who were distinguished for gallantry and good conduct, recommending them for promotion; and I would again commend to your Excellency Colonel Lee of the 20th, Colonel Hinks, 19th, Lieutenant-Colonel Kimball, 15th, and Lieutenant-Colonel Palfrey of the 20th. Great credit is due these officers for the splendid condition in which their regiments were prepared for the field. The 15th and 19th are in my opinion fully equal to any in the service; the 20th was badly cut up at Ball's Bluff, many officers wounded and taken prisoners, and the regiment was thereby deprived of their services.

I have on two occasions strongly recommended the appointment of Colonel Hinks as Brigadier. He disciplined and brought into the field one of the finest regiments, and has been twice wounded while gallantly leading it in battle. I again urge the appointment and respectfully ask your Excellency's favourable endorsement.

I trust your Excellency will not think me presumptuous in offering you a suggestion in regard to promotions and appointments. The system, which seems to have been adopted and carried out to a limited extent, of promoting officers who by their gallantry and good conduct have merited it, is an excellent one, and I would not confine their promotion to their own regiments. I think it adds to an officer's usefulness to place him in a regiment in which he has no acquaintances, and this holds good to a greater extent in promotions from the ranks.

I would also call your attention to the importance of filling up the old regiments. Recruits sent to these learn their duties and become acquainted with the details of camp life much sooner, while they impart new life and vigour to the old regiments.

I have the honour to be, very respectfully,

Your Excellency's obedient servant,

John Sedgwick,

Major-General Volunteers

SOURCES: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 82-7

Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to Brigadier-General Seth Williams, July 12, 1862

Headquarters 2nd Division,

2nd Army Corps,

Harrison's Landing, Virginia,

July 26, 1862.

Brigadier-General S. Williams,

Assistant Adjutant-General,

Army of the Potomac.

General:

In compliance with the circular issued from Headquarters, Army of the Potomac, July 23, 1862, I have the honour herewith to enclose revised lists of the officers and soldiers in the brigades of this division recommended for promotion and reward for meritorious conduct.

Although not personally cognizant of the merits of all of the officers named, I cheerfully endorse the recommendation of the Brigadiers.

I would add a list of those whose conduct, coming more immediately under my personal observation, attracted my especial attention by merit and gallantry.

I would strongly urge the name of Colonel Edward W. Hinks, 19th Massachusetts Volunteers, for the appointment of Brigadier-General. He led his fine regiment through all the actions up to Glendale, where he fell severely wounded. I would also mention Colonel J. T. Owens, 69th Pennsylvania Volunteers. No officer or regiment behaved better.

Lieutenant-Colonel Palfrey, Major Paul J. Revere, and Lieutenant C. L. Peirson and Lieutenant C. A. Whittier of the 20th Massachusetts Volunteers deserve promotion for gallantry on several occasions, especially at Glendale.

Colonel C. H. Tompkins, Chief of Artillery of my staff, rendered distinguished services, behaving with great gallantry on several occasions, especially in the battles of Savage's Station and Glendale.

Captain William D. Sedgwick, my Assistant Adjutant-General, and Lieutenant Church Howe, 15th Massachusetts Volunteers, my aide, have already been recommended for field appointments in Massachusetts regiments. Should they fail to receive such appointments, I would urge promotion for them, if practicable, upon the staff. They were both with me at the battle of Fair Oaks and all the subsequent actions in which this division has been engaged, and their conduct on all occasions has been all I could have wished. I regret to do any seeming injustice by omitting to mention many others who doubtless behaved equally well with those I have mentioned, but I have preferred to limit my recommendations to those whose good conduct I personally and especially witnessed.

I am, very respectfully,

Your obedient servant,

John Sedgwick,

Brigadier-General Volunteers.

SOURCES: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 75-7

Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to Brigadier-General Seth Williams, July 11, 1862

Headquarters Sedgwick's Division,

Sumner's Army Corps,

Harrison's Landing, Virginia,

July 11, 1862.

Brigadier-General S. Williams,

Assistant Adjutant-General,

Army of the Potomac:

I have the honour to enclose, in obedience to Special Order Number 199, regimental and brigade commanders' reports of such officers and soldiers as are deserving promotion.

I have already submitted the name of Brigadier-General Burns, commanding 2nd Brigade, 2nd Division, which I again call attention to. In addition I would submit the claim of Colonel Hinks of the 19th Massachusetts Volunteers for the appointment of Brigadier. He led his fine regiment through all the actions up to Glendale, where he fell severely wounded. His regiment has behaved handsomely on every occasion, and has been gallantly led.

I would also mention the name of Colonel J. T. Owens of the 69th Pennsylvania Volunteers. No regiment or officer has behaved better. (See General Burns's and General Hooker's reports.)

Major Paul J. Revere and Lieutenants C. L. Peirson and C. A. Whittier, 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, deserve promotion for their gallantry on several occasions, especially at Glendale.

I trust I am not doing injustice to many other officers who behaved equally well, but as they did not fall so especially under my notice, I refrain from mentioning them. I would also submit the names of Captain Wm. D. Sedgwick, A.A.G., and Lieutenant Church Howe, 15th Massachusetts Volunteers, A.D.C., to be forwarded to the Governor of Massachusetts for appointment as field officers in some of the new regiments. They are eminently qualified and deserving.

I have the honour to be, with much respect,

Your most obedient servant,

John Sedgwick,

Brigadier-General Volunteers,

Sumner's Division.

SOURCES: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 71-2

Official Reports of the Battle of Fair Oaks or Seven Pines, Virginia, May 31 - June 1, 1862: No. 21 – Report of Brig. Gen. John Sedgwick, U. S. Army, commanding Second Division.

No. 21.

Report of Brig. Gen. John Sedgwick, U. S. Army, commanding Second Division.

HDQRS. SEDGWICK'S DIVISION, SUMNER'S ARMY CORPS,

Bivouac near Fair Oaks Station, Va., June 4, 1862.

CAPTAIN: I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of my division during the engagements of May 31 and June 1, near Fair Oaks Station, on the Richmond and York River Railroad:

Under the orders of the general commanding the corps we left our camp near Tyler's house about 2 o'clock p.m. on Saturday, the 31st, in the following order: First, German's brigade, followed by Kirby's battery; Burns' and Dana's brigades, followed by Tompkins', Bartlett's, and Owen's batteries. The crossing of the stream of the Chickahominy and the contiguous swamp was exceedingly difficult and occasioned much delay, but we pushed forward in the direction of Fair Oaks Station, the point near which it was understood that Heintzelman's and Keyes' corps were then engaged. Upon debouching into the open field near Adams' house we found Abercrombie's brigade, of Couch's division, sustaining a severe attack and hard pushed by the enemy.

The First Minnesota, Colonel Sully, the leading regiment, was, by request of General Couch, approved by General Sumner, promptly formed into line of battle under a very sharp fire, and posted on the right of Abercrombie's brigade. Colonel Sully's disposition of his regiment, which covered two sides of Courtney's house, a point at which there was much danger that the enemy would outflank us before the supports ordered to his assistance could be brought up, was marked by admirable coolness and judgment. The remainder of German's brigade, led by him in person, and composed of the Thirty-fourth and Eighty-second New York, supported by the Fifteenth Massachusetts, formed on the left of Abercrombie's brigade, where they became almost instantly and hotly engaged., and after sustaining, without wavering, repeated and furious charges of the enemy, finally charged him in turn with the bayonet with such impetuosity as to rout and drive him from his position, I would here mention with pride that shortly previous to this charge Lieutenant Kirby brought his battery into action in a most gallant and spirited manner. His pieces, in charge of Lieutenants Woodruff and French, were run up and unlimbered under a very galling discharge of musketry within less than 100 yards of the enemy, and opened a terrific fire with canister and spherical case, which contributed in a very high degree to break and finally scatter his forces. Generals Burns and Dana were promptly on hand – the former with his whole brigade, the latter with two of his regiments, the Twentieth Massachusetts and Seventh Michigan, the other two, the Nineteenth Massachusetts and the Forty-second New York, having been left behind, the one on picket and the other to protect the crossing and assist the passage of the artillery. General Dana, with the two regiments first mentioned, was ordered to form in column of attack to the rear and left of Kirby's battery, but before the order could be executed it became necessary to push him to the front, where he went immediately into action on the left of Gorman's brigade, sustaining a strong attack and participating in the brilliant and decisive charge of the Thirty-fourth and Eighty-second New York, above referred to, and driving the enemy from point to point for a very considerable distance. General Burns with two regiments took post on the right of Colonel Sully, holding his other two in reserve. It was not the fortune of any of the regiments in this brigade to meet the enemy at close quarters, but all gave unmistakable evidence of being ready if ordered forward to rush to the support of their comrades with alacrity and unshrinking firmness. The One hundred and sixth Pennsylvania, Colonel Morehead, and the Seventy-second Pennsylvania (Baxter's Zouaves), held in reserve, were several times moved from their positions to different portions of the field at double-quick, evincing their eagerness to become engaged. The Sixty-ninth Pennsylvania, Colonel Owen, was thrown to the right toward evening, and held that position during the night and following morning.

Before the result of the contest in the vicinity of Adams' house had been determined I was directed by the general commanding the corps to proceed to the right and take command of that flank, where I found Colonel Sully's regiment so well posted and so judiciously supported by General Burns that little remained for me to do. As the conduct of Gorman's and Dana's troops was more immediately under the personal observation of the corps commander, it becomes unnecessary for me to enter into further details concerning their operations.

On the following (Sunday) morning the enemy renewed the attack with great fury immediately on my left and in front of General Richardson's line. Parts of German's and Dana's brigades and one section of Bartlett's battery were engaged with determined bravery. This action being also under the immediate eye of the corps commander, I forbear to call attention to particulars.

After the close of the engagement on Saturday evening, the enemy having been driven from his position and the firing having ceased, General Burns was ordered to proceed with the Seventy-first Pennsylvania to unite with the Nineteenth Massachusetts and Forty-second New York Regiments and the Sixty-third New York (the last of Richardson's division) to protect our right and rear, in accomplishing which purpose his arrangements were eminently judicious and effective.

Col. C. H. Tompkins, First Rhode Island Artillery, commanding the artillery of the division, was indefatigable in bringing up his batteries. To Capt. F. N. Clarke, chief of artillery of the corps, great praise is due for his untiring energy and zeal in using all the men, is at his command in hastening forward the various batteries of my division as well as of Richardson's. Captains Tompkins and Bartlett after great exertions arrived upon the field with their guns between 7 and 8 p.m. Captain Owen (to whom as well as to the artillery of Richardson's division, Major Bowe, Forty-second New York, with a portion of that regiment rendered most valuable assistance) arrived at daybreak on Sunday. The zeal and energy of these officers are worthy of the highest praise, it being a matter of such exceeding difficulty to bring artillery across the Chickahominy, which was greatly swollen by recent heavy rains, to such an extent, indeed, that the bridges previously built by us had been in great part carried away, that, as I have learned from prisoners taken during the fight, the enemy had declared it to be impossible for us to bring over a single gun.

I commend to the general commanding the corps the gallantry with which the brigadiers led their troops into action, and refer him to their reports regarding the handsome conduct of their staffs and troops, which I fully indorse.

Captain Johnson, commanding a detached company of the Sixth New York Cavalry, though not immediately engaged, rendered valuable services in various ways.

The medical officers of the division, brigade surgeons, surgeons, and assistant surgeons performed their duties with skill and untiring devotion, disregarding the great personal danger to which they were frequently exposed.

My personal staff, Capt. William D. Sedgwick, assistant adjutant-general; Capt. Joseph S. Smith, commissary of subsistence, and Lieut. Church Howe, Fifteenth Massachusetts, aide-de-camp, carried my orders from time to time to various portions of the field under the hottest fire with an alacrity and coolness highly commendable.

Capt. R. N. Batchelder, division quartermaster, was, much to his own regret, ordered to remain with the train, but his services were invaluable in pushing forward the ammunition and supplies under great difficulties so rapidly that they arrived before the least want of them had been experienced.

I have the honor to be, captain, with much respect, your obedient servant,

 JOHN SEDGWICK,

 Brigadier-General Volunteers, Commanding Division.

Capt. J. H. TAYLOR,

Chief of Staff and Acting Asst. Adjt. Gen., Sumner's Corps.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 51-7; The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 11, Part 1 (Serial No. 12), p. 791-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Francis W. Palfrey to Charles L. Bartlett, April 25, 1862

Before Yorktown, Va., April 25, 1862.

C. L. Bartlett, Esq.: —

My dear Sir, — Yesterday morning the Twentieth Regiment was detailed for picket duty. Captain Bartlett went out a little before noon to visit the advanced posts. He found what he considered a good and safe position for observing the enemy. He knelt down behind a tree and watched their movements through a glass. He had been watching them some ten minutes, when he received a shot from a rifle in his left knee. A litter was sent for him and he was brought to the rear. When I got to him his color had not left him, and he was suffering only at intervals, when spasms of pain seized him for a moment, and quickly passed and left him comparatively comfortable again. His thoughtfulness for others and self-forgetfulness were shown by his repeatedly urging me to leave him, as I was suffering from a slight lameness. He was carried to a house near by, and then the surgeons gave him chloroform and examined his wound. Drs. Hayward and Crehore of the Twentieth, Dr. Haven of the Fifteenth, and Dr. Clark, a surgeon from Worcester, were unanimous in the opinion that amputation was not only proper, but necessary. I urged upon them to be sure, before proceeding, that there was no chance of recovery, and that it would not do to delay for consultation with other surgeons.

They assured me positively that there was no room for doubt, and that the operation must be performed immediately; that the ball had totally destroyed the knee joint, and shivered and destroyed the bone of the leg for six inches below; furthermore that delay would materially diminish the chances of recovery. The leg was taken off by Dr. Hayward, in the lower third of the portion above the knee. Examination made subsequently fully confirmed the opinions of the surgeons, and Brigade Surgeons Crosby and Dougherty, and Dr Liddell, Medical Director of the Division, who arrived presently, pronounced everything well and wisely done, and every one of the surgeons were of the opinion that your son had gone through the operation most favorably. He suffered a good deal after he returned to consciousness, but not to the point of faintness. His sufferings arose mostly from the necessary dressings. He bore the announcement of what had been done very firmly, and told me that he had expected it. Every exertion was made to put him at once on his way to Washington, and he presently started for York River, in a four horse ambulance, attended by Dr. Clark and my servant, who is as gentle as a woman, and who has a strong feeling of personal attachment for your son. There went with him, also, seven or eight stout fellows of his own company, to carry him on a litter, should the motion of the ambulance increase his sufferings.

His color returned soon after the operation was ended, his smile was ready and sweet, his eyes clear, the grasp of his hand and the tone of his voice firm. I hardly need tell you that he bore his fate with his own gallant spirit, and that he did not break down for a moment. His escort report that he arrived safely at the river, and was there placed on board the Commodore.

To you who know so well my opinion of your son's merits, and what close companionship has existed between us for six months, I need say little of the affliction that this event causes me. The loss to the regiment is terrible, and officers and men unite with me in lamenting the misfortune. Your son was the most brilliant soldier I have known in the Volunteer Army, and I anticipated for him the highest distinction. You have my sincerest sympathy, you and Mrs. Bartlett and your daughters, in this painful moment, and my love and admiration for your son cause me to feel the most bitter sorrow at this heavy calamity.

Very respectfully and truly yours,

F. W. Palfrey, Lieut.-Col, Comd'g.

The surgeons encourage me to believe that he will be comparatively comfortable in a day or two.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 42-4

Captain William Francis Bartlett to Harriet Plummer Bartlett, Saturday Night, October 25, 1861

Camp Benton,

Saturday Night, October 25, 1861.

My Dear Mother, — . . . . I have not had time or heart to write you, who had such good news to hear, when I thought of those who could not get anything but bad tidings. I have been very busy during the whole week (which seems like one long day, or rather night), being in command of the regiment nearly all the time. To my great joy Lieutenant-colonel Palfrey returned in safety with his men Wednesday night, when all the forces were withdrawn from the Virginia shore by order of McClellan, who was here.

General Lander was brought here wounded in the leg that day, and when I went up to headquarters, I heard that McClellan had just been up to see him. It was cheering news for me, for I knew that we had by this time got four thousand men across, below our battle ground, at Edwards' Ferry, and I was in hopes some General would come who could take command.

In your letter of Sunday, which I got Wednesday, you hoped I should have a day of rest; you little thought that I should be the other side of the Potomac at two the next morning. I had neither food nor sleep from Saturday night until I got back to camp Tuesday morning. We crossed the river, Caspar and I, under command of Colonel Lee, in all one hundred men, in a whale boat that would carry sixteen, and two small boats holding five and four respectively. I went over first, and found a steep bank one hundred and fifty feet high, with thick wood on it. There was not room enough to form ten men, and the banks were so slippery that you could not stand. I formed the men in single file up the path, waiting for the Colonel and the rest of the men.

After they were all over, we wound our way up this precipice and formed on the open space above. The detachment of the Fifteenth, three hundred men, now moved up the road leading from the top of the bank inland. We were to remain there to support them, and cover their retreat. We gave the men distinctly to understand that they must stand fast if the Fifteenth came running down the road, wait till they had passed, and then cover their retreat. It looked rather dubious. The Fifteenth might get across, but we must check the advance of the enemy and get cut to pieces. We sent out scouts in all directions; three men under a sergeant composed each party.

My First Sergeant Riddle went out on our right. At this time we did not know how many of the enemy there might be within gunshot of us. It was now about sunrise, when we heard three or four shots in rapid succession on our right. In a few minutes my First Sergeant (Riddle) was brought in, shot through the elbow. He was fainting from loss of blood. We tied a handkerchief around his arm and sent him down to the river. (I might as well finish with him here. It was a sad opening for me, he was the best sergeant in the regiment, a favorite of both the Colonel and General Lander, and perfectly invaluable to me. He is now at the hospital, and I am in hopes of saving his arm; the bone is shattered; he has great pain but good spirits.) It was nearly nine when we heard a splendid volley in the direction of the Fifteenth. We knew we were in for it then. Soon wounded men were brought down the road mentioned. How large a force they had met we did not know, but we learned from the wounded that the volley was from the enemy. We expected now to see the Fifteenth falling back on us. The firing ceased and we were in suspense, thinking that they might have been surrounded, and waiting to see the enemy come down that road and sweep our hundred men into the river. We were then deployed as skirmishers across the road, Company I on the right, Caspar on the left, an opening at the road to let the Fifteenth pass through to the river, and then check their pursuers until they could get across. I never expected to see Camp Benton again, then, and I remember being sorry that my bundle had not yet come from home before I left camp, and that there would be no one there to open it when it came. I wondered what you were thinking of at the time, and was glad that you little dreamed of our critical position.

At ten A. M. Colonel Devens with his men came down the road in good order. He reported that there were three to four regiments of the enemy, besides cavalry. Our case was looking rather unpleasant, to say the least We were not attacked, the enemy fearing that we might have a larger force. They seem to refuse a fight unless you give them odds. At eleven, the remainder of the Fifteenth came over, and they went back up the road again, six hundred in all. The rest of our regiment which crossed over on to the island with us the night before, — the island, Harrison's, is midway between the two shores, low and flat, — now came over to us, making with Caspar's company and mine three hundred and eighteen. The California Regiment, of Philadelphia, now began to get over, and the prospect for a more even fight looked better. But you can imagine what a long morning it was, waiting either for reinforcements or the order to withdraw, with nothing to eat since dinner the day before. My company being deployed as skirmishers, I had given the order “Lie down,” and I myself reclined on my elbow and dozed for half an hour. I woke up and found that nearly all my skirmishers lying down had taken the opportunity to go to sleep, poor fellows. I couldn't bear to wake them until the first volley of musketry was heard from the woods near us. It shows that the boys were either indifferent to danger, or were worn out with fatigue, to go to sleep on the field, where balls were occasionally dropping in.

General Baker arrived with his regiment (California it is called, composed of Philadelphia men). He disposed the troops under his command as follows: —

The Twentieth, three hundred and eighteen men, in the open space, their right up the river. The Fifteenth, six hundred, in the edge of the woods on the right. The California Regiment, part of it, on their left, touching at right angles our right.

A part of the Tammany Regiment was placed in front of us by Baker, but I am sorry to say that after the first volley there was nobody in front of us but the enemy; they broke and fell in behind us.

The following plan will show you our position after one or two volleys had been fired on us. [See Plan.]

Well the first volley came and the balls flew like hail. You can see from our position on the plan that we were exposed to their full fire. The whizzing of balls was a new sensation. I had read so much about being under fire and flying bullets that I was curious to experience it. I had a fair chance. An old German soldier told me that he had been in a good many battles, but that he never saw such a concentrated fire before. They fired beautifully, too, their balls all coming low, within from one to four feet of the ground. The men now began to drop around me; most of them were lying down in the first of it, being ordered to keep in reserve. Those that were lying down, if they lifted their foot or head it was struck. One poor fellow near me was struck in the hip while lying flat, and rose to go to the rear, when another struck him on the head, and knocked him over. I felt that if I was going to be hit, I should be, whether I stood up or lay down, so I stood up and walked around among the men, stepping over them and talking to them in a joking way, to take away their thoughts from the bullets, and keep them more self possessed. I was surprised at first at my own coolness. I never felt better, although I expected of course that I should feel the lead every second, and I was wondering where it would take me. I kept speaking to Little, surprised that he was not hit amongst this rain of bullets. I said two or three times “Why Lit., aren't you hit yet?” I remember Macy was lying where the grass was turned up, and I “roughed” him for getting his coat so awfully dirty. Lit. was as cool and brave as I knew he would be. The different companies began to wilt away under this terrible fire. Still there was no terror among the men; they placed implicit confidence in their officers (I refer to our regiment particularly), and you could see that now was the time they respected and looked up to them. We were driven back inch by inch, towards the top of the bank. The rifled cannon was not fired more than eight times; the last time, the recoil carried it over the bank, and it went crushing through the trees, wounding many. General Baker was standing near me about four o'clock; he seemed indifferent to bullets. He said it was of no use, it was all over with us. A few minutes after, he fell, struck by eight balls all at once; so you can judge by this how thick they flew. No one took command after he fell; in fact the battle was lost some time before. At this time I came on Captain Dreher; he was shot through the head in the upper part of his cheek. I took hold of him, turned his face towards me, thought that he could not live but a few minutes, and pushed ahead. When we fell back again, he had been taken to the rear, and was got across. He is now in a fair way to recovery, the ball not striking any vital part. Lieutenants Lowell and Putnam and Captain Schmitt were now down, but were carried to the bank and taken across.

Captain John Putnam, I forgot to say, was brought down by where we were from the right, where he was skirmishing, in the very first of the fight. I remember how I envied him at getting off with the loss of an arm, and I wished then that I could change places with him. For I knew then, that we should either be killed or taken prisoners. The field now began to look like my preconceived idea of a battle field. The ground was smoking and covered with blood, while the noise was perfectly deafening. Men were lying under foot, and here and there a horse struggling in death. Coats and guns strewn over the ground in all directions. I went to the Colonel and he was sitting behind a tree, perfectly composed. He told me there was nothing to be done but “surrender and save the men from being murdered.” Most of the men had now got down the bank. I thought it over in my mind, and reasoned that we might as well be shot advancing on the enemy, as to be slaughtered like sheep at the foot of the bank.

I called for Company I for one last rally. Every man that was left sprang forward, and also about six men (all who were left) of Captain Dreher's company, and ten men of Company H under Lieutenant Hallowell, all of whom followed me up the rise. As we reached the top, I found Little by my side. We came upon two fresh companies of the enemy which had just come out of the woods; they had their flag with them. Both sides were so surprised at seeing each other — they at seeing us coming up with this handful of men, we at seeing these two new companies drawn up in perfect order, — that each side forgot to fire. And we stood looking at each other (not a gun being fired) for some twenty seconds, and then they let fly their volley at the same time we did.

If bullets had rained before, they came in sheets now. It is surprising that any one could escape being hit. We were driven back again. I had to order sharply one or two of my brave fellows before they would go back. Everything was lost now.

One of the Philadelphia papers says, “After everything was given up as lost, a captain of the Fifteenth Regiment rallied the remnants of two companies, and charged gallantly up the rise, but was driven back by overpowering numbers, after delivering a well directed volley.” So far so good. Then it says, “but seeing the hopelessness of the case, he tied a white handkerchief on his sword and surrendered himself and the remnant of his regiment.”

The officer in question did not get quite so far as the last part of the story, nor did he belong to the Fifteenth Massachusetts, . . . .

When we got back to the bank, we induced the Colonel to go down and try to escape. The Adjutant took his left arm and I his right, and we got him down the bank unhurt. Here was a horrible scene. Men crowded together, the wounded and the dying. The water was full of human beings, struggling with each other and the water, the surface of which looked like a pond when it rains, from the withering volleys that the enemy were pouring down from the top of the bank. Those who were not drowned ran the chance of being shot. I turned back and left the Colonel, to collect the remnant of my company, and when I returned he was gone. I asked for him, and they told me that he, the Major, and Adjutant had got into a small boat and gone across safely. I looked, and saw a small boat landing on the other side, and took it for granted they were safe. I then, being in command, collected what I could of the regiment, and told those who could swim, and wished to, to take the water, it was the only means of escape. Nearly all my company could swim, and I made them stop and take off their clothes. We sent over reports and messages by them. Little and I thought it our duty to stay by those men who could not swim. I allowed Macy to go, hoping that one of us might get home to tell the story. Little sent his watch over by Kelly, the bravest boy in our company, and I told him to go to Boston, and go to you and tell you that your son was probably a prisoner. What should you have said to the news? Little did you think or know what was taking place on that Monday afternoon, when

Volleys on right of us,

Volleys on left of us,

Volleys in front of us,

Battled and thundered.

I now determined to get the men out of this fire, and surrender without any more loss. I started up the river, followed by about twenty men of the Twentieth Regiment, twenty of the Fifteenth, and forty of the Tammany and California regiments. Captain Tremlett, Company A, Twentieth, Lieutenant Whittier, ditto, and Little Abbott went with me. An officer of the Fifteenth also was with the party. We followed up the edge of the river, and came to an old mill which we knew was up in this direction. It was owned and run by a man named Smart, who lived in Leesburg, so the negro told me, whom I questioned as to who was there. We expected to stumble on a party of the rebels every step. I asked him where his boat was. He wondered how I knew that they had one, and said it was up in the mill-way.

I went up there and found a skiff under water, twenty rods away from the edge of the river. It was capable of holding five persons. Those with me declared it useless and impracticable, and proposed going into the mill, get a good night's rest, and give ourselves up in the morning. I thought, though, that if I only got one load of five over, it would be worth trying; so we got it down to the river and began the transportation, expecting every minute to be discovered and fired at by the rebels. When the boat was put into the water, the whole crowd made a rush for it. I had to use a little persuasion by stepping in front of it, drew my pistol (for the first time, this afternoon), and swore to God that I would shoot the first man who moved without my order. It was the only thing that saved them. They were obedient and submissive, and avoided being shot by me or taken prisoners by the enemy. I selected five men of my own company and sent them across first, with a man to bring back the boat. So, by degrees, I got those of the Twentieth, next those of the Fifteenth (whose officer, by the way, sneaked off, got across on a raft, and left his men on my hands), and lastly those of the Tammany and California regiments. I sent Lieutenant Whittier over in the second load, to look out for the men as they came over. It was a tedious job. At last I went over with Tremlett and Little, and was once more back on the island. We thus saved eighty men and three officers from being taken prisoners. I learned afterwards that the Colonel, Major, and Adjutant were ahead of me up the river, had been to the mill, found the boat, thought it impracticable, and went on. They were afterwards taken prisoners. Lieutenant Perry and Dr. Revere were with them. We went down to the hospital opposite our battle-field, where we found the wounded being cared for. They had heard, and believed, that I was shot, and the welcome that the men gave me brought the first tears to my eyes.

I got to the Maryland side with all that I could find of my company (five men) about twelve, midnight. Then we had still that long walk down the tow-path and up to our camp from the river, where we arrived at three A. M. I got to bed pretty well tired out at half past three. When I awoke there were several waiting at my tent door for me to awake, to welcome me and congratulate me on my safe return.

On waking, I sent telegraphs to Jane by mail to send to Boston; did you get them?

By the time I was up, Colonel Palfrey had started off with the only remaining company of the regiment (Company K) to cross the river at Edwards' Ferry. He got back safe, as I told you, and relieved me from the command of the regiment.

The first night that I was here in command, I thought it best to have a dress parade as usual, both to let the men see that everything was not broken up, and to cheer them with the music. It had a very good effect. I published to them that night the following order: —

Headquarters Twentieth Regt. Mass. Vols.,

Camp Benton, October 23.

General Order No. —

It is the pleasant duty of the commanding officer to congratulate the men of the Twentieth Regiment on their admirable conduct in the late battle. Your courage and bravery under a galling fire for hours was only equaled by your coolness and steadiness throughout.

He laments, with you, the loss of so many brave officers and men; but hopes, with you, that the time may soon come when we may avenge that loss.

You have established your reputation for bravery, and gained honor, though you lost the victory.

By order Commanding Officer.

The men were quite affected, and the next time the Twentieth is engaged she will leave a mark that will not be lost sight of in history.

Out of twenty-two officers that were engaged, only nine returned safe. Of three hundred and eighteen men, one hundred and forty-six were killed, wounded, or missing; a loss which, in proportion to the number engaged, you seldom see. I send you a list of officers killed, wounded, and missing, and also of Company I, as they may send to you to learn.

Col. W. Raymond Lee, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Major P. J. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Dr. E. H. R. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Adj. C. L. Peirson, missing, prisoner.

Lieut. G. B. Perry, missing, prisoner.

Lieut. Wesselhoeft, missing, probably drowned.

Capt. Babo, missing, probably drowned.

Lieut. W. L. Putnam, wounded, since died.

Capt. G. A. Schmitt, wounded badly, doing well.

Lieut. Lowell, wounded slightly (flesh), doing well.

Capt. Dreher, wounded in the head, doing well.

Capt. Putnam (John), wounded (lost right arm), doing well.

Lieut. Holmes (O. W.), wounded (breast), doing well.

A sad report, but it might have been worse.

Of Company I, forty-eight men were engaged, twenty (nearly half) were killed, wounded, or missing, as follows: —

Those that are missing were either shot or drowned in the river.

First Sergt. Riddle (W. R.), wounded, right arm shattered.

Corp. Thomas Hollis, wounded (finger shot off), doing well.

Private A. M. Barber, wounded (right arm), doing well.

A. Davis, killed, shot through heart.

Thomas Dolan, wounded, finger shot off.

Lewis Dunn, missing, probably shot.

W. F. Hill, missing, probably shot.

Albert Kelly, missing, probably shot.

M. V. Kempton, missing, probably a prisoner.

Sam. Lowell, missing, probably a prisoner.

Tete McKenna (my pet and pride), missing, took the water, probably shot.

G. C. Pratt, wounded badly (will recover).

Julius Strick, wounded (right arm).

James Seddon, wounded (heel), doing well.

Albert Stackpole, wounded, since died.

George G. Worth, missing, probably shot swimming.

Summerhays, wounded slightly in the hand.

O. Gammons, wounded, finger shot off.

E. V. Skinner, missing, perhaps a prisoner.

I. Barker, missing, perhaps a prisoner.

Killed and wounded, 11; missing, 9; total loss, 20.

Worth and McKenna were two noble fellows. I was saying to Little a day or two before, how sorry I should be to have any of these men killed, in whom we took such an interest! I send you a little piece of a knot of crape which went through the fight on Monday last. It was tied on to my sword hilt the day before. Caspar had a piece on his hilt, but said that he saw it when we were marching up the tow-path, and tore it off instantly. He and I were the only captains that had crape on our swords, and were the only two that were not hit. Captain Putnam is getting along finely. Captain Schmitt will recover. He has a great deal of pain, but bears it splendidly.

Well, mother, I have written a pretty long letter, but I guess you will be interested enough to read it through. I have written of course what I should not have done to any one else, and you must not show it . My official report to General Stone was in substance like this, except, of course, the parts relating to myself, which it did not become me to speak of to any one else but you at home. I have now been through my first battle, and it was a fierce one. If we should have a campaign of ten years, we could never get in such a place where we should lose so many men or be under such severe fire. General Stone told Colonel Palfrey last night that the rebels' official report made them lose three hundred men killed and wounded, and that they had five thousand troops engaged to our sixteen hundred.

W.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 19-36

Captain William Frances Bartlett to Brigadier-General Charles P. Stone, October 23, 1861

Camp Benton, October 23, 1861.

To Gen. Stone, Commanding Corps of Observation: —

General, — I have to report that one hundred men of the Twentieth Regiment crossed from Swan's (or Harrison's) island on Monday morning, October 21st, to support the detachment of the Fifteenth and cover its retreat. We climbed the steep bank, one hundred and fifty feet high, with difficulty, and took post on the right of the open space above, sending out scouts in all directions. The detachment of the Twentieth consisted of two companies, I and D, in all one hundred and two men, under command of Colonel Lee.

A little after daylight, First Sergeant Kiddle of Co. I was brought in, shot through the arm by some pickets of the enemy on the right.

At 8 A. M., a splendid volley was heard from the direction of the Fifteenth (who had advanced half a mile up the road leading from the river), and soon wounded men were brought in towards the river. We were then deployed by Colonel Lee as skirmishers, on each side of the road mentioned, leaving an opening for the Fifteenth to pass through in retreat. They fell back in good order at about 10 A. M. At 11, the other companies of the Fifteenth arrived from the island, and Colonel Devens with his command moved inland again. At this time the remaining men of the Twentieth, under Major Revere, joined us. Major Revere had during the morning brought round from the other side of the island a small scow, the only means of transportation, excepting the whale boat holding sixteen and the two skiffs holding four and five respectively, with which we crossed in the morning. At 2 o'clock, the detachment of Baker's Brigade and the Tammany Regiment had arrived, and Colonel Baker, who disposed the troops under his command. The three hundred and eighteen men of the Twentieth were in the open space, the right up the river; the Fifteenth were in the edge of the woods on the right a part of the California (Baker's) Regiment on the left, touching at right angles our right.

One company of the Twentieth under Captain Putnam was deployed as skirmishers on the right in the woods, one under Captain Crowninshield on the left. Captain Putnam lost an arm in the beginning of the engagement, and was carried to the rear. His company kept their ground well under Lieutenant Hallowell. The Fifteenth had before this, after the arrival of General Baker, fallen back the second time, in good order, and had been placed by General Baker as above mentioned. The enemy now opened on us from the woods in front with a heavy fire of musketry, which was very effective. They fired low, the balls all going within from one to four feet of the ground.

Three companies of the Twentieth were kept in reserve, but on the open ground, exposed to a destructive fire. It was a continual fire now, with occasional pauses of one or two minutes, until the last. The rifled cannon was on the left, in the open ground, in front of a part of Baker's regiment, exposed to a hot fire. It was not discharged more than eight times. The gunners were shot down in the first of the engagement, and I saw Colonel Lee carry a charge to the gun with his own hand. The last time that it was fired, the recoil carried it down the rise to the edge of the bank. The men of the Twentieth Regiment behaved admirably, and all that were left of them were on the field, after the battle was declared lost by General Baker. They acted, at least all under my command, with great coolness and bravery, and obeyed every command implicitly, and even after the intimation had been given that we must surrender in order to save the men that had been left, they cheerfully rallied and delivered a well directed fire upon two companies which we met, which had just advanced out of the woods.

We were slowly driven back by their fire in return, and covered ourselves with the slight rise mentioned above. We tried to induce the Colonel to attempt an escape, and got him down the bank unhurt. I turned to collect the remnant of my company, and when I returned to the bank, they told me that the Colonel (Lee), Major, and Adjutant had got into a small boat, and were by this time safely across. Feeling at ease then about them, I collected all that I found of the Twentieth, and gave permission to all those who could swim and wished to, to take to the water, and sent over reports and messages by them. I then ordered those of the regiment who could not swim to follow up the river, in order to get them out of the murderous volleys which the enemy were pouring down upon us from the top of the bank. About twenty of the Twentieth Regiment, twenty of the Fifteenth, and forty of the Tammany and California regiments, followed us.

We went up as far as the large mill, where I found, by means of a negro there, a small sunken skiff in the mill-way, and induced him to get it out of water and down to the river. It was capable of holding five men, and I began to send them over, expecting every minute to be discovered by the enemy. In an hour they were all over, and I crossed with Lieutenant Abbott of my company, and Captain Tremlett of Company A, Twentieth. I reported with the men at the hospital on the island. They got across to this side during the night. They were obliged to stop at the ferry and sleep out, many of them without overcoats or blankets, till morning. Out of twenty-two officers that were with us in the engagement, thirteen are killed, wounded, or missing; of three hundred and eighteen men, one hundred and forty-six are killed, wounded, or missing. The Colonel (Lee), I learned at the island, had not crossed, but I have since learned that he and his companions went farther up the river, found the boat which I afterwards used, thought it impracticable, and went on. They were (by the report of one or two men who have since come in) taken prisoners. Colonel Lee, Major Revere, Adjutant Peirson, Dr. Revere, and Lieutenant Perry are supposed to have been together. I supposed it was my duty to make this report of that part of the regiment engaged, as senior officer of those saved.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 16-9