Roster and Statistical Record of Company D, of the Eleventh Regiment Maine Infantry Volunteers / With a Sketch of Its Services in the War of the Rebellion

by Albert Maxfield; Robert Brady

THE NORTH SIDE OF THE JAMES.

In the afternoon of the 28th of September we left this camp and marched for Deep Bottom, arriving there in the early morning very tired and sleepy. This was a hard march, so hard a one that when the Second Corps made it on their return from Deep Bottom in August, General Hancock considered it a very exhausting night march for troops to make that were to attack in the morning. Night marches are particularly weary ones. The monotony of plodding through silent darkness, hour after hour, is as wearing to the men as is the distance.

It is rarely that a gleam of enjoyment illumines the dullness of such a march; but as we plodded along through the darkness of this night and were passing a half slumbering camp, the fires were low and the lights were few, a voice rang out from it calling, "What regiment's that?" At the answer "The Eleventh Maine," a wild yell came from the quiet camp, dark forms rising from it in groups and companies, to shout in stentorian volleys "Who stole the butter?" It was the 98th New York, the regiment that sailed in the old Cahawba with us from Yorktown to Morehead City, on which cruise the sutler of the 98th lost his never to be recovered tubs of butter, and the question now waking the echoes of the dark night was the one to which even a drum-head court-martial failed to find the answer. The expedition we were a part of was intended to surprise the Confederate works on the north side of the river, where they were known to be thinly guarded. It was hoped that our unexpected onslaught would not only force their covering lines, such as the works before Deep Bottom and along Bailey's Creek and the works centering on Fort Harrison, near Chapin's Bluff, but would enable us to get possession of Fort Gilmer, of their main line too, really the key to the position of Chapin's Bluff.

General Ord, now commanding the Eighteenth Corps, was in immediate command of the expedition, consisting of all of the Tenth and Eighteenth Corps that could be spared from the investing lines and of Kautz's cavalry division. Ord was to cross the river from his Bermuda Hundred front, crossing by a ponton bridge laid down at Aiken's in the darkness of the night, we were marching through, was to gain the Varina road, here abutting on the river, move up sharply in the early morning and assail the enemy, taking such works as he could, at all events was to prevent the enemy from crossing troops by the ponton bridge between Drury's and Chapin's Bluffs, to attack Birney's Tenth Corps. Birney's Tenth Corps was to cross the river at Deep Bottom in the early morning, gain the New Market and Darbytown roads—lying beyond the Varina road in the order named and running along the river and parallel with it—the infantry to move along the New Market road with Kautz's cavalry moving on their flank by the Darbytown road, the line to overrun the Confederate outworks before Deep Bottom and sweep forward towards Fort Gilmer's flank, while Ord attacked its front. We moved through Deep Bottom, crushed the light force found before it and moved rapidly up the New Market road, driving the enemy before us. Ord had followed the river road and attacked so strongly with Burnham's brigade as to carry all before him, capturing Fort Harrison with sixteen guns and a large number of prisoners. General Burnham was killed in the assault on the fort. General Ord then moved his forces to the right and left of Fort Harrison, capturing two batteries of three guns each. He then endeavored to sweep down from the captured intrenchments and take the works on the river bank that covered the enemy's ponton bridge, but the Confederate gunboats opening the attempt was unsuccessful.

General Ord was severely wounded in directing this movement, and General Heckman took command of the Eighteenth Corps, but scattered his brigades in the woods so that he could not concentrate them on Fort Gilmer until it had been so heavily reenforced that he was repulsed with a heavy loss. In the meantime, we of the Tenth Corps had captured the enemy's outworks lying across the New Market and Darbytown roads, and were making ready to move on his main line a little over a half mile to their rear. General Grant was now on the ground. Sending our division over to the Darbytown road, about a mile across from the New Market one, to support Kautz, he directed Birney to move forward with his other brigades. Then Ames' division and Brigadier-General William Birney's colored brigade moved on Fort Gilmer by the New Market road, but they were forced back by the grape and musketry when so close to the works that some of the colored brigade jumped into the ditch and tried to climb to the parapet of the fort by each other's shoulders. We of Terry's Division were now pushing through the captured works, Kautz on the right, all moving under a heavy fire and in momentary expectation that the assault on Gilmer would be successful, when we proposed to force our way into Richmond. So vigorously did we move forward that when the announcement of the failure of the assault reached us we were actually less than four miles from Richmond, and it required rapid movement and severe fighting on our part to get out of the precarious position our own sanguine advance had placed our inadequate force in. Rejoining our line, light works were thrown up in the night.

The next day was one of heavy skirmishing only, until the afternoon, when a heavy force of the enemy assaulted Fort Harrison and were beaten back three times before abandoning their attempt to recapture it. General Stannard who so gallantly held the fort for us, lost his arm in the second assault. While these north side operations where going on, General Meade was moving on the left, partly to keep reenforcements from the north side, where so much was hoped for, and partly to try to gain ground on that flank. The results of his movements were desultory, although rather in his favor. We held our now well intrenched position on the north side of the James with only heavy skirmishing, while threatening demonstrations were made by brigades of both sides from day to day, but without a real collision until the 7th of October. The right flank of our force on that side of the river—our brigade held the extreme infantry position on that flank—was covered by Kautz's cavalry. His position was across a swamp from us, on the Darbytown road at the Confederate line of intrenchments we captured the 29th of September. Here he had 1700 men and two batteries. So threatening was this position that two divisions of Confederates moved out the night of October 6th, and at sunrise of the 7th attacked on his front and his right flank. He could not stand up against such an attack as this, and in falling back through the swamp, by the narrow road crossing it, found the rebel cavalry there before him. Leaving them his eight guns, his men made desperate attempts to get under the wing of our division, scouting through the woods in flying groups. About as soon as the roar of the enemy's sudden attack on Kautz came to our ears the advance of his broken cavalry squadrons came dashing through the woods on our flank, riding recklessly through tearing brambles and matted copses. Almost immediately our division left its intrenchments at the double-quick for a position at about right angles to the one left, quickly forming front to intercept the enemy's advancing force, now closely following Kautz's flying men. But as the enemy swept through the woods he fell on the heavy skirmish line we had thrown out, and his immediate advance was halted until assaulting columns could be formed. At last his heavy columns were ready for the assault and his skirmishers began to press ours in an attempt to break them, their columns hoping to get close to our line under cover of an advancing skirmish line.

But our men were stubborn. I remember that Colonel Plaisted sent me with orders to Lieutenant Dunbar, in command of the skirmishers of our regiment. The fire was furious, and the lines lay close on each other, it was a murderous one, but neither Dunbar nor his men were inclined to yield an inch. "We can hold a line of battle" yelled one bold Yankee. But they couldn't, for when the roar of the assault came rolling through the dense woods in which the fight took place, we had to hold the fire of our line until the flying skirmishers should get behind us, in this way getting the shrieking, dingy lines of the enemy within short rifle range before we opened on them. The grey lines pressed forward through the hail storm of bullets our brigade was pouring on them, when suddenly from our left broke out the volley roar of the seven-shooters of the New Hampshire men. Seven volleys in one. Flesh and blood could not stand such a cyclone of lead; and they stopped, broke and fled, leaving the woods piled with their dead and dying. Just as our victory was assured, reenforcements came up the road on the double-quick, to protect our extreme right. Panting and exhausted as they were with their efforts to reach us in time to be of service, they had breath enough left to give hearty cheers for our stand-up victory. We are particularly proud of this victory, as we won it without the protecting works so necessary to break the headlong impetus of an assaulting force, and in beating off the enemy's heavy charging columns stood in about single rank, having to stretch our line to a length that would oppose any flanking movement the enemy might combine with his front attack. And curiously enough our right regiment, the 10th Connecticut, just lapped the enemy's lines. I can see the 10th now as it stood on our immediate right, every man of it fighting with impetuous vigor to protect our flank, even its Chaplain, Henry Clay Trumbull, vying with the rest of its officers in encouraging their men, not only by his words but by flourishing a most unclerical looking revolver. It was here that Chaplain Trumbull won the name of "Fighting Chaplain" and high honors as he has since won in his chosen calling as Editor of the Sunday School Times, I'll venture that he is prouder of the title he received from the rank and file on that day of mortal warfare than of any theological one his service in the spiritual army has brought him. In this affair of the New Market Road, of D, its Commander, Lieutenant Maxfield and Corporal Horace Whittier of the Color Guard, were wounded.

The 13th of October our regiment was part of a force that moved out on the Darbytown road on a reconnoissance in force. We found the enemy's works of the most formidable character and strongly held. A brigade of Ames' division assaulted a promising part of them, but was beaten back, and a movement of ours made in conjunction with that of Ames, failed, we falling back under a very heavy artillery and musketry fire. While we lay in the woods before these inhospitable works, this storm of war sweeping over us, the cooks of D, then John Day and Prince Dunifer, appeared with camp kettles filled with hot coffee, and persisted in serving it to the men in spite of the great danger they had to expose themselves to in doing so. Cook Day, always excited in action, was none the less so that he was running the risk he then was, and as some slow member of the company lying flat upon the ground would fumble for his tin cup as John stood over him, John's ire would boil till he would shout in that stentorian voice of his, "Hurry up, hurry; do you want me to be killed?" And so amusing was John's tribulations to Prince Dunifer, walking behind John to carry the reserve kettle, that he forgot all about his own danger in laughing at John. But neither John nor Prince ever shirked a duty or a danger—both good cooks and good fighters, John only excelling in the intensity with which he performed every duty, whether it was to cook, fight or to run away. Who is more worthy of honor than are these comrades? They followed our marching column day after day, loaded with kettles, spades and provisions, at every opportunity making hot coffee and taking it to the men on the line of skirmish or battle; at night preparing a fiery bean hole in which to bake their beans, standing guard all night if need be over the simmering delicacies, that in the morning their men might have something tangible for their belts to tighten over. And what welcome did a rushing reenforcement meet with at some desperate moment of a raging battle, equal to the one that used to greet old John Day as he came plunging through the woods to our hungry, shivering line on some gray morning, his broad shoulders sturdily bearing a yoke from which depended kettles of steaming coffee and smoking beans. Of D, Private Woodbury was the only man wounded on this expedition.

In the latter part of October, Grant pushed a strong force from the left towards the South Side Railroad. In connection with the movement we made one on the right.

Moving out at daylight of the 27th of October, we drove the enemy's pickets in on the Darbytown and the Charles City roads, and moved forward to threaten their works without intending to assault them. While we were maneuvering before the works, General Weitzel, in command of the Eighteenth Corps, was moving with that corps to turn the Confederate left flank by pushing through White Oak Swamp and taking possession of the unoccupied rebel works on the Williamsburgh and New Bridge roads; then was to move on Richmond. But General Longstreet, now in command of the Confederate forces on the north side of the James, anticipated the movements so effectually that Weitzel found the supposed-to-be unoccupied works so thoroughly occupied as to make his attack on them a complete failure, he losing heavily in both men and colors, each of his two attacking brigades losing three colors. About the hour of the afternoon that Weitzel met with this defeat, we were ordered to press our demonstrations and, if possible, to carry the works. The attempts made to carry out this order were unsuccessful. We had to lie on the ground in the rain that night to cover the retreat of Weitzel's men, who wearily plodded back through the rain, mud and darkness, not reaching a safe position in our rear until early morning. We then moved back into our own works. On the 29th of October our cavalry pickets were driven in from their position of observation on Johnson's farm, the position that Kautz was driven from on the 7th of the month. Anticipating an attack of the same sort as was the one we then repelled, our division moved out across the intervening swamp Kautz left his guns in. Reaching a position on the other side, we formed a strong skirmish line and charged the captured picket works, the enemy running from them as we neared them. Sergeant Brady of D was wounded as we entered the now recaptured works. This was the last engagement of the war on the north side of the James.