The Adjutant's Story
by Captain Orett L. Munger
by Captain Orett L. Munger
Circumstances which they were unable to control, placed them in the enemy's hands, and other circumstances, also not of their making, gave a turn to affairs they greatly enjoyed.
Inasmuch as there was something of similarity in the experiences of these men, though the story of each one in many particulars would differ from all the rest, the narrative of one may serve as a reminder to such of the others as still survive. This may be called the "Adjutant's Story" because it was while so acting that the writer met with the adventures to be related.
Understanding fully that other comrades if so inclined, might truthfully tell of wounds and sufferings, with a variety of happenings still more thrilling, the writer ventures to offer this, hoping to bring pleasure to those of that party who still live, in the thought of fortunate escape from dreaded imprisonment.
You, comrades, who were present, vividly remember the Wilderness and its battles of the fifth and sixth of May, 1864, and the losses of the Forty-fourth which included many brave men and the kind hearted Captain, Seth F. Johnson. You have not forgotten the seventh of May, when, under sharpshooters' fire and behind breastworks, we quietly waited for orders, nor how that evening Gen. Grant inaugurated his long series of movements by the left flank. Here our tale begins.
In pursuance of orders the Fifth Corps began its movement to the left on the evening of May 7, 1864, our Third Brigade leading the column. All night long the difficult tramp continued, short, indeed, as to number of miles, but more than usually trying because of obstructions in the way. The poor and narrow Wilderness road, difficult to see in the darkness of the night, had been blocked in places by the enemy with fallen trees, which had to be removed by our pioneers to make way for artillery and infantry. Their work caused frequent stops during which a snatch of sleep was possible. Many a time during that night the stumbling of the Adjutant's horse, as march was resumed after these enforced stops, wakened him from a brief nap in the saddle, and so it was with Col. Conner, by whose side he rode. The men, too, greatly fatigued by three days' strenuous work and insufficient food, dropped soundly asleep many times while pioneers cleared the road. So dragged the latter end of May 7th and the early hours of the 8th until the light of day made progress more easy. I think it was about eight o'clock when, emerging from the woods, the Forty-fourth formed line just at the edge of an open field. Here arms were stacked, knapsacks thrown off, and the men were more than ready for coffee. Our good Colonel, thoughtful and brave, wished for his men all possible comforts, and told the Adjutant to present his compliments to the Brigade Commander, General Bartlett, who at that moment was seated with the Division Commander, General Griffin, on a harrow in the field about two hundred feet ahead, and to ask if there was time for coffee, and that, if our men were to charge the enemy, they might leave knapsacks behind, because of their fatigue and the heat of the day. Gen. Griffin himself replied, in words as near as memory can recall, "No, tell Col. Conner there is nothing ahead of us but a few dismounted cavalry. Battery D will march right down the road, the 83d Penn. will follow, and tell Col. Conner to follow the 83d, marching by fours." Almost immediately the start was made, in the order named, the few skirmishers of the enemy contenting themselves by firing and retiring, until about a mile and a half had been covered. Approaching a cut through a hill, a Rebel battery was discovered in the edge of a wood about a half mile to the right. In this cut General Bartlett halted his command, sending back an aide to inform General Griffin of the nearness of the enemy's artillery. The aide soon came galloping back, and blurted out the words, "The General says, take it!" Bartlett's trained eye had already measured the situation; a fence to climb, advance down a gentle declivity, a small brook to cross, then up grade and two more fences, then woods with felled trees as abatis in front, and the enemy. Not wishing to expose his men unnecessarily, he requested the aide to ask General Griffin to come himself and view the situation. It seemed but a moment until the impatient Division General appeared, and addressing his Brigadier, said: "There is nothing ahead of you, General, but a few dismounted cavalry. Put in your first two regiments on the double-quick or you won't get a chance to shoot at them."
Immediately the order was given, and the 83d Penn. with the Forty-fourth New York, like twin brothers always happy in each other's company and best satisfied when battle was on to fight side by side, sprang to their feet, climbed out of the cut and over the fence, skirmishers in front, going to their work, veterans as they were, on the double-quick. The rebel skirmishers retired, disappearing in the woods, and our line advanced with little difficulty until more than half the distance had been covered, when the upgrade and shortened breath somewhat slackened the pace. With a few losses from the musketry fire of the invisible foe, the last two fences were quickly climbed and there before Us were fallen trees so obstructing the advance that it was utterly impossible for proper alignment to be kept. Climbing over or crawling under this obstruction as conditions required, our men entered the woods and just before them was the demonstration that NOT "a few dismounted cavalry," but a full infantry line behind freshly constructed breastworks, was waiting to give a reception, which immediately followed. Simultaneously with our entrance into the woods came a volley at so close range that, but for the upward tilt of the muskets in the hands of the Confederates-so common to troops protected by breastworks-our losses, serious enough, would have been much greater. By common impulse our men dropped to the ground, firing as they lay, until after a brief interval the Colonel shouted "Forward!" telling the Adjutant to repeat the order down the line. The distance gained was little, for the enemy's next volley was murderous, and a number of the men were killed and wounded.
Once again the word, "Forward Forty-Fourth!" rang out, and the distance-not more than forty feet from certain parts of the line would have been covered speedily had strength been sufficient, but with lessened numbers and formation broken, there was little chance to dislodge the enemy. The reader, it is hoped, will excuse personal reference which now seems essential to the tale. In this last attempt to carry the enemy's works, the Adjutant at once discovered that without semblance of a line of battle and with only little bunches of men, or single individuals, here and there, constituting the forward movement, the effort could not succeed. Impelled by the instinct of self-preservation, he made speed to reach a tree in front about half way to the enemy's line. A few vigorous jumps brought him to the desired haven, and although not half big enough to cover his body, the little tree became at once the basis of operation and a point of defense. Immediately in his front, perhaps twenty feet distant, was visible a little stretch of the enemy's breastworks, from behind which three rebel heads at once dropped out of sight. To the right and left, trees and bushes so screened other parts of the enemy's position, that for the moment this was all of the enemy's line within the Adjutant's sight. Standing with left shoulder guarded by the tree, the Adjutant found the revolver an essential part of the situation, and it became the agent which prevented either of the men in front from taking careful aim which could not have failed to kill. Enemy number one, first resting his musket on the works, showed for an instant his head to note the position of his target, and in another instant raised his shoulder and fired. The Adjutant's pocket on the right side of his blouse was torn by this bullet, and at the same time the compliments of the revolver were extended to the Confederate. Enemy number two then imitated his mate, but more cautious, did not expose so much of his body and his fire was high. He was, in turn, made the target for cartridge number two from the revolver. So centered was the Adjutant's attention on the business in his front that he saw nothing of his comrades, for to turn his head was to invite death, but in the early moments of that particular situation he was cheered by the sight of a corner of the regimental colors which were held by Corporal George W. Wing as he lay, with knapsack and blanket protecting his head, waving "Old Glory" from side to side. 'Enemy number three tried his hand next, but fired high, and the third shot from the revolver was discharged in his behalf. Right here an interruption occurred, for, to the Adjutant's surprise, a ball from the left chipped through the top of his hat. He thought perhaps this might have been a glancing ball which had first struck a tree, but, unwilling to trust that kind of an interpretation, dropped on his knee for safer position. In another instant a second bullet went through his hat and the tree itself was hit a number of times, convincing him that he was being made the target of Confederates more to the left. Watching for further activity in front, shot number four from the revolver replied to one from a rebel, and almost at the same instant a bullet cut through the coat over the Adjutant's left shoulder. Making himself as short in stature as was possible by crouching low, an outstretched leg was suddenly stung, and the Adjutant called out, "Colonel, I guess I am hit." A few moments later it was discovered that the Colonel was not there, neither was the regiment. Then came the fifth chance for the exchange of compliments, and cartridge number five answered the fire of a man in front whose shot was high, and like those of his predecessors, did no harm. One cartridge remained, and what was to be done after it had been used was an open guess. To this day the Adjutant has been unable to explain a sudden impulse which caused him to jump to his feet and turn around. There stood two Confederate soldiers with muskets pointed at his head, while a quick glance discovered our fleeing regiments making speed to get back to their supports, and the enemy, in much greater numbers than they, in hot pursuit. Quick decision was imperative, and the first thought, which was to shoot one of the men in his way and disable the other by a blow with his sword, and then try to make his escape, gave way to conclusions more sane. The enemy were swarming from both flanks trying their best to overtake the 83d and Forty-fourth, but with little success, for our men were soon back to their starting point, and with the support of other regiments of the brigade were too strong to tempt the Confederates to attack. To the demand, "Come in, you d-d Yank," the reply was made-"I think I'm in." Thus the Adjutant found himself a prisoner, while his two captors appropriated the revolver and sword. A few strides brought us to the enemy's breastworks and, stepping over, the prisoner was confronted by a Confederate officer who jumped up, the still damp dirt clinging to his uniform, and called out, excitedly-"Surrender, Sir! Surrender, Sir!" Seeing scabbard and belt which my captors had failed to remove, this doughty officer busied himself in taking them off, so that they became the trophies of his prowess. By his direction, one of the boys-for, like most of our soldiers, they were still young,- started to the rear, having his captive in charge. The hurt leg bothered, and the guard agreed to a halt when a shady grassy spot was reached, so that an examination of the wound could be made. It was an agreeable surprise to find only a strip of skin gone and the black and blue marks of a bad bruise, albeit the bootleg itself was badly wounded. The fear of a more serious hurt having vanished, the lameness became less apparent and the disability was disregarded. The guard seemed in no hurry and was willing to rest, until one of Griffin's Battery D shells, passing over the breastworks, struck near by, and ricocheting, went over and beyond. The prisoner's sentiment that he did not care to be killed by Yankee shells was heartily seconded by his companion, and the tramp was resumed to the rear. This trip revealed to the Adjutant facts that made him yearn for the wings of a bird, so that he might inform General Griffin that the "few dismounted cavalry" against whom we were sent, had developed into a mass of infantry numbering thousands, with a half dozen batteries within easy call. The fences on either side the narrow road or lane through which we passed, were lined with artillerymen and other idle soldiers, who enjoyed the sight of captive Yankees. The Adjutant said to his guard, "I suppose you know your duty," and the reply came, "What do you mean?" The answer was, "You are my guard, and your duty is to deliver me to the Provost, and in the meantime to protect me. I do not want to be robbed by these men." The young fellow said: "I know that; I'll take care of you;" and so he did, pushing back with his gun a man who grabbed for the Adjutant's hat, which, though bullet torn, had some of its freshness left, and possessed the added attraction of a 1st division, 5th corps badge; and another man who crowded up, saying: "Give me that watch, you d-d Yank!" Thus protected, the headquarters of the Provost Guard were safely reached, and under the gentlemanly care of Major Ryals, in command, the prisoner was safe from further annoyance of that sort. The Adjutant soon discovered that he was not the only prisoner, and on the assumption that there would be given him an opportunity to communicate with the Commander of the Forty-fourth sooner or later, he proceeded to take the names of his comrades who had been captured. Later it was known that others had been taken, most of them wounded, whose names he had no means of learning. Frazier Rosenkranz of Co. K was shot through the chest, the ball passing quite through his body, and yet was able to talk, and told the Adjutant that he was not suffering greatly. So far as the writer knows, no word ever came from him, but in the report of the Adjutant General of New York appears the following: "Rosenkranz, Frazier, wounded and captured in action, Spottsylvania, Va., May 8, 1864. Prisoner of War at Andersonville, Ga., at muster-out of Company." He may have returned home later, but of this the writer is not informed. Here follow the names of the men who constituted the party:
All through the remainder of that 8th day of May, at intervals of an hour or two, volleys of heavy musketry informed us that our uninformed Generals were repeating, with other regiments, the experiment at first tried with the 83d and Forty-fourth. Following each of these futile attacks on the enemy's position, other captives were added to our squad, until when night came 350 Union officers and men were claiming Confederate hospitality.
The thought of dead and dying comrades whose sacrifice was a sad mistake and had its own reward in the satisfaction of duty bravely done, added to the heaviness of our hearts as we anticipated a turn in rebel prisons. The night was spent a mile further to the rear in pleasant woods, the blue sky visible between the leaves and branches above us, as we lay without blankets on the ground. The bright stars twinkled kindly, undisturbed by "man's inhumanity to man," while happy dreams came to some and the night wore away. The morning of the 9th came early, and gnawing stomachs made their demands as, waking from the sound sleep of growing manhood, the consciousness of our situation again asserted itself. No time was wasted for breakfast, since there was nothing to eat, and when soft-voiced Lieut. Cunningham in command of the detail which was our conduct, gave the order to "fall in," those able to march were ready to proceed. I think all of the Forty-fourth squad, except Rosenkranz, started with the rest. Proceeding in the direction of Richmond, we met, after an hour or two had passed, a large force of the enemy's cavalry going toward Fredericksburg, and concluded, from remarks by our guard, that for some reason a demonstration by Sheridan was expected, with which the Confederates proposed to interfere. A bad guess it was as to Sheridan's route, but fortunate for us, as the sequel will show. The annoying activity of the enemy's cavalry had given trouble, and about the time of our engagement at Laurel Hill, a conference between Generals Grant, Meade and Sheridan was in progress, as a result of which Sheridan was given the permission, so much desired by him, to cut loose from the army and deal such blows to the Confederacy as he might find possible. All was accomplished that he had promised, and the rebel cavalry found that they were more needed to protect Richmond than to chase after Meade's wagon trains. All this was of course unknown to our party, and the march was monotonous enough until, a little before noon, when the column halted and filed into a large enclosure, where to our joy was located one of the largest and most copious springs of cold water it has ever been my lot to see. The writer is reminded of Gideon's Band when he thinks of the eagerness our comrades showed and the various postures assumed, as they quaffed nature's most delicious beverage. Nothing could have been better. Some, lying flat, put their faces in the water, others on knees used their hands as cups, and drank and then drank again, for it had been more than twenty-four hours since most of the men had tasted water. It was refreshing, and the men lay down in the grass, happy for the moment, and glad to rest. A group of the officers agreed, for the sake of the few slightly wounded men in the party who were suffering from the unavoidable chafing of their hurts, that Lieut. Cunningham be requested to permit his prisoners to rest in this delightful spot for an hour. Before the Committee of one, chosen to make this request, could discharge his mission, the sudden arrival of a mounted messenger, who excitedly addressed the Lieutenant, put an end to the plan, and the order came immediately, "Fall in." There being no alternative, this beautiful green spot was regretfully left behind, and the tramp resumed. The main road was taken for but a short time, when to our surprise, our route lay through fields and woods. In reply to questions as to the reason of this, we were told that the bridge over a river had been destroyed, and that we were making a point where the stream could be forded. Thus the afternoon wore on, and the fact that we did after a while ford a stream, gave some confirmation to the statement. Water was arm-pit deep and swift, so that some of the shorter and less vigorous men required help of the sturdier ones, but the writer believes all crossed in safety. Between four and five o'clock, after passing through a strip of woods, the tired men again reached the Richmond road, when their ears were greeted by the sound of shrieking locomotive whistles impatiently but plainly saying "Hurry up." A messenger came, telling Lieut. Cunningham to be "quick," when another sound greeted our ears-a shot from the rear. Strange as it may seem, every one of the 350 men marching toward prison pens, tired and hungry, but with senses acute, measured correctly the meaning of that shot, and to the command, "double-quick," responded by instantly clearing the road and with common impulse, sidling off into the woods on one side and into the corners of the rail fence on the other. The clatter of hoofs was soon heard, and memory still pictures three horsemen, who, with speedier beasts, led the advance of the gallant Custer's Brigade of Sheridan's Cavalry, as it appeared in view. These three impetuous riders, almost lying on their horses' necks, with carbines extended, crowded so closely the now fleeing Confederate guard, that three of its number were brought down while the others escaped.
On came the troopers, receiving as they passed the wild and vociferous welcome of 350 liberated men, whose voices, raised in loud cheers, proclaimed their joy and gratitude.
"How the" prisoners "shouted when they heard the joyful sound," Of Custer's gallant troopers as they sped o'er rebel ground! "Glory, glory, Hallelujah!" was the song most appropriate, and the sentiment was felt if not expressed by all our men.
The half mile to Beaver Dam Station was so quickly covered and the surprise was so complete that three trains of cars were in possession of our cavalry before the engineers could get them out of the station. Supposing this to be his safe point, General Lee had concentrated supplies, and there was food in abundance for man and beast. Vast stores had been collected and, the prisoners found, literally fulfilled the promise made them the day before that at the end of this day's march they should be fed. Were we hungry? Young fellows scarce out of their 'teens, after two full days without food, hungry? Were we hungry? Well, here was food in plenty, and one had but to help himself. Right opposite the station, in a log house suddenly vacated by the family which had occupied it a moment before, Capt. Bradford R. Wood and the writer found ready to hand a promising fire of coals in the fireplace, and the necessary utensils for cooking supper close at hand. A reconnaissance by two had discovered at the station some barrels of hams and lemon-box-looking packages which upon more intimate inspection proved to be filled with eggs packed in saw-dust. No objection to ham and eggs was to be offered on this occasion, and in a short time voracious appetites were being rapidly and satisfactorily appeased, at the expense of the Confederacy.
During the night, after men and horses were fed and had loaded up with as many rations as could be conveniently carried, the sky was brilliantly illuminated by the fires which consumed the station with its contents, as well as the trains of cars which were to transport the prisoners to the Capital of the Confederacy. The cavalrymen busied themselves also in tearing up railroad tracks, burning ties, heating and twisting rails and interfering as far as possible with Lee's communications. With happy hearts and weary bodies we lay down for rest, but were not permitted to sleep late, for early in the morning the enemy's cavalry, after its fruitless trip toward Fredericksburg and a long forced march, appeared on our rear, and the sound of their guns was our reveille. We recaptured, unarmed men constituted, of course, an impediment to our rescuers, but with veteran rebel cavalry pounding in the rear, and the front defended by homeguards, guerrillas and other irregulars, whenever a cut through a hill or a narrow road in the woods afforded an opportunity for a barricade, the progress was not so rapid, but that the infantrymen could maintain the pace. An officer of a Pennsylvania, regiment kindly offered the use of two extra horses to Capt. Wood and the writer, so that the first day was not overwearisome to us, though exciting. At night, the Adjutant, following the example of his friend of the cavalry, unsaddled and tied his horse to a tree, giving him corn to eat; then, with body stretched upon the ground, with head to trunk of tree, quickly dropped into a deep sleep. Waking early, it was discovered that his horse was gone, no doubt taken by some dismounted cavalryman whose mount had been killed. No more extras were to be found, so that again the Adjutant became a footman, but was able to keep up with the procession. Enemy in front and rear made the work of our cavalry severe, and the progress was slow, but the march was continued on the main road until one night the Adjutant was told that Richmond lay but two miles further on, and he wondered, as he saw the lights twinkling in the distance, if Sheridan would risk an attack on the enemy's Stronghold, which seemed possible because of the absence of the main body of its defenders. That was not to be, and shortly after, a turn to the left brought us to the Chickahominy River. It was rainy and muddy, and the route lay across a corduroy bridge, while over the river swamps extended on either side of the narrow road, which seemed the only point at which passage could be made. The Adjutant, unattached, approached as near as he dared to Sheridan's headquarters flag where a number of officers were grouped about their General, and watched with much interest their movements. Across the Chickahominy were concentrated several hundred of the friends of the Confederacy, who with such arms as they had been able to gather together, proposed to assist the Home Guards and Guerrillas in disputing Sheridan's crossing. The main body of the enemy's cavalry was crowding behind in the evident thought that now was the time for their harvest and that when the crossing was attempted there would be much confusion, and that a portion at least of the Union forces would become their prisoners. Sheridan's grasp of the situation was complete, and the enemy's plans were frustrated, Rebellion's most masterly cavalry leader, General J. E. B. Stuart, meeting his death in the attempt to thwart the purpose of the Union General. A sudden dash of a part of the cavalry down the river, as if to reach quickly another possible crossing, deceived the Home Guard crowd, and a part of that force hurried in the same direction on their side of the river. Other cavalry ready for the rush galloped over the bridge, driving the mob before them like leaves before the wind. Regiment after regiment followed these, and a large part of the force was safety over; but what of those regiments who were facing their enemy in the rear? Batteries had been placed in the woods and, commanding the road over which our remaining troops must pass and the enemy follow, were ready for the work before them. When the order came, our cavalry in apparent retreat before the enemy, turned about and rapidly galloped for the bridge. Now was the enemy's chance, and confidently his troopers rushed on in pursuit, unconscious of the trap laid for their discomfiture. Batteries which they had not seen belched out their fiery welcome with great effect, and the onslaught was turned into a rout as men and horses, surprised out of their self-possession, turned about in confusion and made haste to the rear. Needless to say, before they had sufficiently recovered to try again, Sheridan's Troopers, with every piece of artillery, and his wards, the recaptured prisoners, were safely across the Chickahominy. The enemy's cavalry did not follow after the crossing was made, and it remained for the guerrillas who at a safe distance were frequently in sight, following in the hope that some worn out soldier or weary horse might be their prey, to remind us that we were still in the enemy's country.
Reaching Malvern Hill, overlooking the James River, on the historic field where in 1862 the Forty-fourth greatly distinguished itself in battle, the opportunity came for the transfer by General Sheridan of the recaptured prisoners, to General Butler, whose army lay at Bermuda Hundreds, across the river. One of Uncle Sam's gunboats near by, gave assurance of protection, and after communicating with Butler, who promised to send boat for us next day, we bivouacked near Haxall's Landing. The cavalry proceeded on its way with our hearty God speed and sincere thanks for delivery. At Bermuda Hundreds we were supplied with clean underwear, which was eagerly received and greatly needed; thanks to that grand association of good men and women called the Sanitary Commission.
The following day we were taken by boat to Fortress Monroe, where transfer was made to another steamer, arriving at Alexandria on the 17th day of May. On the 18th our party reached Camp Distribution, and the next day the writer secured pass to Washington and provided himself with sword and belt and sundry items of wearing apparel. On return to camp, orders were received directing us to report to Col. Tally, who was to command a provisional battalion and march to the front. On the 20th the march was begun. On the 21st a detail Of 50 men was made to guard a wagon train, with Capt. Bradford R. Wood, Lieut. Edward Bennett and the writer, in charge. Starting at midnight, we reached Fredericksburg about 7 A. M., Sunday, May 22d, remaining during the day and visiting hospitals where a number of the Forty-fourth men lay wounded. On the 23d the train was started, and the rest of the Provisional Battalion joined in guarding it. A march of twenty-two miles brought us to Bowling Green, and three miles more the next day, to Milford Station. On the 26th, the wagon train having been safely delivered to proper authorities, we started for the regiment, where the glad reception by our old comrades, who had supposed some of us dead, made our hearts warm. Here for the first time, information reached us of the wounding of Col. Conner and Major Knox at Laurel Hill, and of the fact that Capt. Nash had been thereafter in command until the arrival of Capt. Allen, who, because of seniority in rank, assumed command. At the request of the latter, the writer resumed his duties as Acting Adjutant, and the work went on.
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