Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864 — January 23, 1865: No. 112. Report of Col. Oliver L. Spaulding, Twenty-third Michigan Infantry, of operations November 24-December 5, 1864.

No. 112.

Report of Col. Oliver L. Spaulding, Twenty-third Michigan Infantry,

of operations November 24-December 5, 1864.

HDQRS. TWENTY-THIRD MICHIGAN VOLUNTEER INFANTRY,  

Nashville, Tenn., December 5, 1864.

CAPTAIN: In compliance with orders of the colonel commanding brigade, I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of the regiment under my command from the 24th of November last to date:

On the 24th of November the regiment was at Johnsonville, Tenn., under orders to rejoin the brigade at Columbia. At 4 p.m. of that day it left Johnsonville by rail, and arrived at Columbia at noon on the 25th, and immediately built works on that part of the line to which it was assigned, sending five companies on picket. At 2 o'clock the next morning the regiment retired with the brigade some two miles, near to Duck River, and was occupied all day and night in building works on the left of the brigade line. On the morning of the 27th we were ordered to move to the right, where we took up a new position, our right resting upon the railroad a short distance from the railroad bridge, and threw up works. In the afternoon the regiment was ordered on a reconnaissance to the right of our line to ascertain what force, if any, the enemy had thrown across the river at a ford some six miles on our right. Having accomplished the object of the reconnaissance we returned to camp shortly after dark and crossed the river, with the brigade, (luring the night, taking position on the north bank of the river a short distance to the right of the railroad bridge. We remained here till morn of the 29th, when we retired with the division toward Franklin, reaching there on the morning of the 30th. On the evening of the 29th, when near Spring Hill, a body of the enemy was found to be in our front. In the advance upon them this regiment was thrown on the right flank of the line to move by the flank in the rear of the line and guard against any movement the enemy might make upon that flank. I threw out flankers, who, in the darkness, ran upon the pickets of the enemy. In the confusion we captured a rebel adjutant-general. On arriving at Franklin we threw up works in the position assigned us, throwing up traverses upon the flanks of each company, which proved of the greatest service to us in the engagement of the evening, as the enemy had a heavy flank fire upon us during most of the time. At a little past 4 p.m. the enemy assaulted our works with three lines, apparently confident of carrying them with ease, but after a most stubborn attempt he evidently became convinced that he had undertaken a very heavy contract, and one which one of the high contracting parties had no idea of ratifying. He renewed the attack several times, only to be repulsed each time, with terrible loss. During the engagement the left of the regiment was more hardly pressed than the right, and most of my fire was left oblique. At one time two companies of the One hundred and eighty-third Ohio, on our immediate left, broke and left their part of the Works unprotected. A body of the enemy occupied the outside of these works for some time. Here we shot down two color-bearers, and prevented their entering the works, till they were again occupied by two companies of the Eightieth Indiana. As the Eightieth was moving to the left to occupy this position I threw one company on the right center — where the enemy's fire at that time was very light — over the works, and fired one volley into rebels as they lay upon the outside of our works. During the engagement we took among other prisoners Lieutenant Lee, aide-de-camp, of General S. D. Lee's staff.

My loss during the engagement was 2 killed, 13 wounded, and 3 missing. Among the killed was Lieut. D. M. Averill, a brave and thorough officer.

Shortly after midnight we crossed the river with the division, and reached Nashville shortly after noon of December 1.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

O. L. SPAULDING, 

Colonel, Commanding.

Capt. H. A. HALE,

Assistant Adjutant-General Second Brigade.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 385-6

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 4, 1862

Headquarters 1st Div. Reno's Command,

Near Alexandria, Sept. 4th, 1862.

Dear Mother:

Once more, after a lapse of nearly five weeks, am I able to write you again. During this time we have been cut off from all communication with our friends, we have been busily employed, and have suffered much. I have lost my good friend, Genl. Stevens, who has been sacrificed by little men who can poorly fill his place. Whenever anything desperate was to be performed, Stevens and Kearny were always selected, with this difference though, that Stevens rarely was credited with what he did, while Kearny's praises were properly published. On Monday's fight, the General's son and I were walking together in the rear of the 79th Regiment, when Capt. Stevens was wounded. Finding that young Stevens was able to move off without assistance, I continued to follow the Regiment. Soon the General came up on foot. “Have you seen your son?” I asked him. “Yes,” said he, “I know he is wounded,” and then added, “Capt. Lusk, I wish you would pass to the left of the line, and push the men forward in that direction.” I did as I was ordered, and on my return, found the General had been killed, and the troops badly slaughtered. The General you have read was shot while holding the flag of the 79th Regiment in his hand.

There were five shot holding the same flag in about twenty minutes time. I found the sixth man standing almost alone at the edge of some woods still clinging hopelessly to the colors. I drew him back to the crest of a hill a couple of hundred yards back and gathered a few of the 79th about it. Kearny then came riding up, and asked the name of the little band. On being told, he said, “Scotchmen, you must follow me.” They told him they had not a round of ammunition left. “Well,” said he then, “stand where you are and it may be you will be able to assist my men with the bayonet.” The soldierly form moved on, and it too soon was dust. Stevens was a great man and Kearny a courageous soldier. It is not every man of whom this last can be said, though the country may have placed him high in power. I suppose I must not tell all I have seen in the last few days fighting, but I have seen enough to make it no matter of wonder at the extent of our disaster. I have read little truth as yet in the papers, though I see the people are beginning to feel the truth. So long as the interests of our country are entrusted to a lying braggart like Pope, or a foolish little Dutchman like Sigel, we have little reason to hope successfully to compete with an army led by Lee, Johnston and old "Stonewall" Jackson. Carl Schurz, our lately returned minister to Spain, I found blundering horribly. Schenck was a laughable instance of incompetence, and so with others. You must be careful to whom you repeat these things, and yet there is much which it were better were known, for our soldiers are not deceived by lying reports. They feel whom they can trust, and are not willing to fight for men like McDowell and that ilk. McClellan's reappointment gives great satisfaction to the soldiers. Whether right or wrong they believe in him.

I expect to get my back letters to-day, and then what a treat. I am still very much fatigued by the last month, and like to rest all I can.

Good-bye. Kisses and love to all.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 180-1

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Saturday, November 8, 1862

Still southwest to Rhea's Mills ten miles and then breakfast — fresh beef and no salt. Col. Philips here two nights before, two of his Indians shot. Two girls wounded severely by rebels firing into a house. After breakfast went to my own men with Capt. Gave Capt. Lucas detachment —the advance. Direction southeast. Rode 7 or 8 miles to Cane Hill — Boonsboro — hilly country. Pickets fired upon at Cane Hill. Captured a secesh saddle and equipments. Went into town. Col. made inquiries and moved on. Col. always with the advance. Went a couple of miles and bang, bang, went guns. Soon 60 or 70 men showed themselves in the woods on a hill half a mile to our left. Sharp's rifles and carbines came into play — no effect — distance too great. Howitzers came up, cavalry fell back into the woods and shell went whizzing over the cornfield. They skedaddled. One fellow whom 8 or 10 men started for, ran forward and threw down the fence and then ran back behind a tree. Blue overcoat. Did not take him. Bold fellow. They took two or three prisoners. After some delay, Col. learned that the rebels, 400 or 500, were one mile farther on. Went on a mile, saw pickets on a distant hill. Sharpshooters advanced, and then command moved forward. Found camp just vacated — fires still burning. Went over the Boston mountains. Over the mountains at the foot, our extreme advance came in sight of rear guard of the enemy. A charge was ordered and away we flew with loose reins and set spurs, up hill and down hill, across and back again Cove Creek, a very rough road. After three miles we began to see stirrups, blankets, corn and a thousand things strewn along the road. The Col. was up with us. He commenced yelling, which was kept up by all the men. More things scattered along. After ten miles in the midst of excitement, back came a volley of shot and bullets from the bush at a point a little elevated just ahead of us. The extreme advance fell back a few rods. Up we rode upon a charge into the bush as we were ordered. We rode up and fired away. Still farther up into the road we were ordered. We hurried up and formed along the road facing the bush. The bullets whistled merrily for a season. Not over 20 or 25 were up. We fired all our rounds, then a sabre charge was ordered. We had our sabres drawn and ready for a charge, when Capt. Lucas' horse was shot and the rebels were running by a byroad. The color-bearer was shot through the head and colors captured, 13 stars — two others were reported killed. Waited for signs of the enemy, but in vain. Went down and helped about unloading wagons and burned them. None of us harmed. Started back. Returned 4 or 5 miles and camped. All the boys got some little trap — baggage and equipments of Mo. Provost Guard commanded by Provost Gen. McDonald. Private correspondence of Col. Sevier of Marseilles, Mo. One excellent letter from his Aunt Phil on the war.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 42-3

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: July 17, 1863

Pleasant Valley, July 17, 1863.

As usual it is raining to-day, for I think it has rained almost every day for three weeks, more or less, so I am going to write to you some account of our last campaign.

I believe my last letter describing our progress was from Leesburg. From there, by a succession of long marches, we went to Littleton; here we had a little excitement caused by a cavalry skirmish just in front of us, but we were not called on to do anything. The first of July, we moved towards Gettysburg to a small place called “Two Taverns;” there we began to hear cannonading in our front, and in the afternoon, we were ordered forward to support the force which was engaged. We were put into position but did nothing that afternoon and lay on our arms that night. We heard, that night, of the death of General Reynolds. Next morning, we changed position again. It was a fine place in a beautiful, open wood. About three o'clock in the afternoon, the battle began on the left; the musketry became fearful; it was a terribly anxious time with us, more so, I think, than if we were actually engaged. Every eye was turned in the direction of the firing, fearful lest at any moment we might see our troops coming back through the woods. Happily, we saw no such sight, but we did see, with pleasure, the old Fifth Corps going up to support the gallant troops who were fighting.

About half-past six our turn came; we, too, were ordered from the right to the left; only one brigade of our corps was left in the breastwork we had constructed. We arrived on the battle-ground, but before we got there the enemy had been repulsed severely, so back we started to our old position. It was now between eight and nine o'clock, clear and moonlight. While we had been away, Mr. Johnny Reb had come with a strong force and got our breastworks; the brigade left behind had had a severe fight and had partially driven the enemy out, but darkness came on, and the fight stopped. Our brigade was ordered to advance cautiously and get into the breastwork. We crept quietly along; not a word was spoken nor an unnecessary noise made. All the regiments had got into their former positions without trouble except the Second. We were just marching out of the woods into a little open meadow in the clear moonlight, when our skirmishers brought in a rebel prisoner; this showed our proximity to the enemy, so we changed our front and made preparation to fight for our position.

The skirmishers were reinforced and again advanced. In five minutes we had captured a captain and twenty-two other prisoners; still not a shot was fired. These men appeared to be stragglers who had lost their command. We began to think that, after all, perhaps there was no force in front of us; so the regiment was again ordered to advance. Colonel Mudge put me in charge of the line of skirmishers; the meadow was narrow, and we soon entered the woods again, where it was quite dark. We crawled along cautiously and quietly, till we began to hear a confused sound of talking in front of us; we now halted. Not daring to do anything more without being certain what troops they were (for we knew our Second Division was trying to work down towards us), I ordered two men to go forward and ask them. They walked up to within a few paces of the line; one of them said, “Boys, what regiment do you belong to?” The reply was, “Twenty-third.” “Twenty-third what?” “Twenty-third Virginia.” Then some one cried out, “Why, they are Yanks,” and seized one of my men; the other bolted back to me and escaped. I sent word back to Colonel Mudge what I had discovered, and he withdrew the regiment beyond the meadow.

The behavior of the rebels puzzled me; I couldn't make out what they were up to; they were certainly there within talking distance, but they seemed in confusion as if they didn't know their ground and showed no inclination to fire or advance upon us. I now resolved on a bold stroke. The men were ordered to advance with some noise; almost instantly the challenge rang out from the rebel lines, “Who comes there?” Captain Fox had received his instructions and called out in answer, “Surrender! Come into our lines.” The impudence of this request must have struck the rebel commander, for his answer was, in a loud voice, “Battalion, ready, aim, fire!” A heavy volley was fired, but luckily the ground where we were was low and the men scattered at intervals, so that not much damage was done, only three men being wounded.

They followed this up by a rush, and we ran for it; they followed only a short distance, but I made up my mind that we had had enough skylarking for one night, and returned therefore with all the men to the regiment, bringing three more rebel prisoners. It was now between twelve and one; we lay down with arms in our hands, to get a little rest. At the first streak of daylight, we were waked up by heavy musketry firing in the direction of our second division, the enemy being in force between our two divisions.

Captain Robeson with his company were out as skirmishers in front of our line; they became engaged as soon as it was light enough to see anything. At about half-past five, Colonel Colgrove gave the order to Colonel Mudge to advance his regiment and charge the woods opposite us. Colonel Mudge gave the order, “Forward;” the men jumped over the breastworks and rushed forward with a splendid cheer. We had to cross the little meadow I have spoken of; here was where we suffered so heavily; the enemy was in the woods and we in the open. We reached the opposite woods and commenced firing at the shortest range I have ever seen two lines engaged at. We fought the rebs before us for about ten minutes; then I learned that Colonel Mudge had been hit and that I was in command; I was on the left at the time. I went up to the right to see how things were getting along there; I found, to my surprise, that the regiment that had advanced with us was not on our right and the enemy were working round that way trying to get in our rear. I ordered a change of position to the rear, throwing our right back a little, which put the rebels in as bad a place as they thought to put us and we drove them back again. We stayed here till all our ammunition was expended, when we were ordered back by Colonel Colgrove.

It was a sad thing calling the rolls and looking at the vacant places of so many officers; our only consolation was that they had done their duty nobly in as brave an action as ever a regiment went into. Five color bearers were shot down, one after another, three were killed, two badly wounded, but the tattered flag never touched the ground. The third man who seized it jumped on to a rock in advance of the regiment and waved it triumphantly in the air, but the brave action cost him his life; he fell dead beside the others.

_______________

[During the interval between the next letter and the preceding one, the writer was on detached service engaged in bringing conscripts from Long Island, Boston Harbor, to the Army of the Potomac.]

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 143-7

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 6, 1864

Up early this clear, hot morning. During the night the wounded had been removed and cared for, and the dead buried. Our company's loss, twenty killed and wounded. The loss in the regiment, one hundred and thirty killed and wounded. None taken prisoners. The color-sergeants and the guard were all killed or wounded except one. They were a part of our company, as we were the color company. Very sad over our loss. Such is the life of a soldier. Rations running very low.

This morning, fifty rounds of cartridges given to each man, forty for our boxes, ten for our pockets. Left the battle field. Again on the march, rather slow, through wood-land, wondering what was in store for us. After being under way for about two hours, suddenly, great cheering was heard. The regiment came to a halt as the cheers came nearer to us. Reports came to us by scouts that our cavalry was in possession of Staunton, where we expected to meet with stubborn resistance. We were soon pushing for the town, said to be twelve miles away, at the upper end of the Shenandoah Valley. The march takes us over a rough, stony, hilly road, sometimes through the lots, giving up the roads to the artillery and wagon train. As we marched along there was much to be seen by inquisitive Yankees. We entered the town from the north, passing through what seemed to be the main street, going into camp on the west side.

The scenery in this vicinity is grand. Town located on hills and hillsides. Reminds us somewhat of our home town, Norwich, Connecticut. We are soldiers, doing hard service for our country in a cruel war, but for all that we cannot help but take in the fine scenery. We are living close to the earth, as we eat and sleep on the ground. We try to improve every opportunity to take a bath, wash our clothes, and swim. At this time the weather is very hot, dry, and dusty, which seems to come very soon after the rain. Thunderstorms, in this valley, are very fierce at times.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 70-72

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 5, 1864

Late last night our company detailed for picket duty. Located at the ford, near the town. It was a fearful, dark, rainy night. Every man was on duty and on the alert all night. By order of General Hunter a large woolen mill was burned this morning. I noticed a number of women were crying as the mill burned. It had been used to make cloth for the South. Death and destruction follows in the path of war. This is a quiet Sunday morning in old Connecticut. Here a battle is about to begin. Came off picket, ordered to join the regiment. After a forced march, about six miles, overtook the regiment, taking our position in the line. Soon skirmish firing began and grew hot. Our boys driving the Rebs as we advanced. About 7 A. M. the enemy opened fire on our line with batteries well posted on high hills, distance about two miles, getting range on our colors. At the time we were advancing by division front, when the shells began to come lively. Our Colonel's voice rang out clear “By division, into line, right and left, half wheel, forward, double quick.” The command was quickly executed as the regiment advanced in line through the open lots, taking the extreme right of the line of battle. We could plainly see all that was taking place in the open country. The enemy's line of battle was formed in a wooded field at the top of the highest hills. We were forced to jump brooks, some quite wide, and climb over fences, all this time under fire. We could not return the fire because of our skirmish line in our front, between us and the enemy.

Reaching the foot of the hill on which the enemy was posted, we were ordered to crawl up it on our hands and knees. Reaching the brow we were ordered to rise, at the same time the enemy poured a deadly volley into our ranks. A number fell, and the stock of my gun was shot off. As we started on a charge for the enemy in the woods they broke and ran. As we poured a sharp fire into their ranks, they left their first line of earthworks and fell back to the second. We continued the charge on through the woods, coming out into an open lot. Our Colonel being mounted, saw the second line of earthworks in the edge of another wooded field, commanded a halt, which was done after a while. Then we were ordered to fall back and re-form in the edge of the woods and to wait for orders. My gun having been shot and no good, I picked up another one on the field. I was very sorry to lose the old musket. A number of our boys had fallen. The enemy was strongly posted on another hill across an open field which we must charge through in order to get at them.

Orders came for us to take their works. A charge was again ordered, but we were ordered to fall back and reform. Another attempt was made to capture the works. Owing to our heavy loss the Colonel ordered us to fall back. Our regiment was holding the extreme right of the line. In the second charge across the field a bullet pierced my tin coffee cup, hanging on my haversack, making, as the boys said, two close calls for me. After the second charge our Colonel called for a battery, posted it in a good position on our right, where it did great execution. The enemy attempted to take the battery but we drove them back. A third charge was ordered across the open field. We were again obliged to fall back. The enemy's fire was too hot for us and we were losing many good fellows. In the third charge the colors went to the ground, the corporal of the color-guard, who was carrying them, being shot down. I jumped and picked up the flag, waving it and holding it up.

Later, orders came to prepare for another charge on the enemy's earth works. A desperate effort must be made to capture those works. As a signal, a cheer would ring out from the left of the line, extending to the right, for the entire length of the line, to charge. It was quickly done and the battle was won.

The enemy threw down their arms and were prisoners. In the fourth and final charge, the Confederate commander, Major General Wm. E. Jones, was killed. He was known as Billy Jones. I saw the dead commander lying on the field, he having been shot through the forehead. I also saw the flag of truce when the Confederates came for the body. I spoke to the escort, they telling me who the dead General was.

The day had been a long, hard one. We were under fire from 7 A. M. to 5 P. M. Sorrow came to us over our loss, but we must have something to eat in order to keep up. I carried several canteens over to the Shenandoah River, filled them. On my return I stopped to see a young wounded Confederate. Bathed his wound on his foot with the water from my own canteen. He thanked me kindly as he lay on the ground, patiently waiting for his turn to be cared for. After having rations I picked up a few blankets, visited the field hospital, and covered our boys over with them, as the nights were cool. It was a sickening sight to me. No more desire to visit a field hospital after a battle. I made my way back to our company in the dark. Lay down on the battle field for the night, for rest and sleep. Dead and wounded around us.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 68-70

The correspondence of the New York Herald . . .

. . . from Winchester, Va., contains the following:

There were many deeds of heroism performed on the battle field.  While the Fifth Ohio was charging against the enemy, the color bearer was five times shot down; yet another instantly replaced him at the risk of his life.  The last color bearer was a private Named T. B. Isdell.  The flag staff was broken, yet the glorious banner never ceased to float in triumph over the gallant regiment.

It is highly appropriate that Vallandigham, the man who joined Breckinridge in attempting to rouse the secessionists of Baltimore, who was booted out of the camps of regiments from his own state as a traitor, who has rebel camps named after him, who is eulogized by rebel journals as the most steadfast of their Northern friends, should be selected to report resolutions calling for a resuscitation of the Democratic party, under present circumstances.

The Southern Methodist Book Concern, at Nashville, Tenn., has been closed, and the editors removed from the city.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 5, 1862, p. 3

A correspondent, giving an account of the battle of Winchester, says:

‘Among the acts of chivalry performed on the field was one by private Graham, of the 84th Pennsylvania. He carried the regimental standard. The left hand, which held it, was shot off, but before the Star Spangled Banner fell to the ground, he grasped it in the remaining hand and held it triumphantly. The right arm was next disabled, but before the colors fell he was killed by the third ball. He was a native of the Emerald Isle.'

– Published in The Appleton Crescent, Appleton, Wisconsin, Saturday, April 26, 1862