The Thirty-Ninth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, 1862-1865

by Alfred S. Roe

Possibly the doings of the 11th can be described no better than by copying the record as made at the time by John S. Beck, "Rested all day to-day, if you can call it rest, for we were in a mudhole, out of the range of Rebel shells. Our brigade looks small; drew rations; raining hard, everything wet through, no blankets or shelter tents. I should have been sick were it not for the excitement of battle. Our position here looks dubious, as we have to fight the enemy behind concealed breastworks and in dense woods. To-night we lay down on the wet ground with an old, wet, woolen blanket which I picked up." Considering that this rain was the first since crossing the Rapidan, it really was a comfort even if it did make some, for the time, unpleasantly wet. The 11th is noteworthy from another fact, viz., that it is on this day that Grant telegraphs to Washington the prominent features of the campaign thus far, that reinforcements would be encouraging, and that he purposes "to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer."

Thursday, the 12th of May, is the day of the dread "Salient" or the "Bloody Angle" of Spottsylvania. Had our Regiment been with Barlow's men of the Second Corps, or with the Vermont Brigade of the Sixth, the mortality record of the Thirty-ninth might have been far different, though all participants in any portion of this bloody field have ever thought their losses severe enough. The vision of that First Division of the Second Corps, in the morning mists emerging from the woods at the Union left centre, and with determined rush, "a narrow front, but extending back as far as the eye could see," seeking the Confederate works, is one that memory needs no assistance in recalling. Through wonderful good fortune for us, the artillery of the enemy had been withdrawn and the guns which might have cut wide swaths through that disordered mass of blue, were hastening back, arriving just in time to be captured, the assault resulting in the capture of General Edward Johnson's Division of Ewell's Corps, including the commander, with twenty pieces of artillery and thirty stands of colors. But this did not end the day. So furious was the foe over the loss of men, munitions and position, that the struggle for reinstatement became possibly the fiercest and most deadly of the entire war. Once at least, the bayonet became a weapon of real contact. Here it was that the large oak tree was actually cut down by bullets from both sides. The ground, at the margin of the works, was covered with piles of the dead, and for twenty hours the battle raged, until the wearied rebels withdrew, unable to retake the lines lost in the morning.

In this rapid survey, no mention is made of the Sixth and Ninth Corps, but each one accomplished the task assigned, nor was the Fifth by any means idle. Inferring from the forces pressing upon Hancock in his endeavor to hold advantage of the early morning, that the enemy must be withdrawing his right and left to assist his centre, both Burnside and Warren were ordered forward. Warren obeying, advanced at something after nine o'clock, but was repulsed, "for Longstreet's corps was holding its intrenchments in force." Of this in his report, Warren says:

"The enemy's direct and flank fire was too destructive. Lost very heavily. The enemy continuing to fire on the Second and Sixth Corps, I was compelled to withdraw Griffin's and Cutler's divisions (First and Fourth) and send them to the support where they again became engaged. My whole front was held by Crawford's Division (Third) and Kitching's and the Maryland Brigades, presenting a line of battle not as strong as a single line. The May 12, '64 enemy made no serious attempt to force it. My divisions on the left were relieved during the night from their position, and returned to the right in the morning, having been kept awake nearly all the night, which was rainy."

A graphic picture of the work of the Brigade is painted by Adjutant Small of the Sixteenth Maine in his history of the Regiment, and a portion of it is reproduced here:

"The men, thoroughly exhausted, would lie at length on the cool, fresh earth, some of the timid ones hugging the bottom of the trench, painfully expressing the dread of something to come. And yet these timid ones, at the first rebel yell, would over and 'at them,' or draw bead on some venturesome Johnnie, and shout with derision if he was made to dodge. If they dropped him, a grim look of satisfaction, shaded with pity, passed over their dirty faces. The quiet was almost unbearable, the heat in the trenches intolerable, and rain, which commenced falling, was most welcome. Time dragged. We had not the slightest hint of what was developing. The rebels seemed very far off and trouble ominously near. From the right came an aide, and, quietly passing down the line of works, he dropped a word to this and that colonel; only a ripple, and all was again suspiciously still. 'What was it, Colonel?' asked the adjutant. The Colonel made no reply but simply pointed up the hill. Soon he took out his watch and looked anxiously to the right. Suddenly a commotion ran down the line, followed by the command, 'Attention! Forward, double quick!' On went the Brigade with a yell which was echoed by thousands of throats in front and was thrown back by the double columns in our rear. Down from the rebel right thundered shot and shell, making great gaps in our ranks, while on swept the Brigade, until suddenly loomed up in our front, three lines of works—literally a tier, one above another,—bristling with rifles ready aimed for our reception. There was lead enough to still every heart that was present, and yet, when sheets of flame shot out in our faces, scarcely a dozen of the Regiment were hit. Then men tore wildly at the abatis, and rushed on only to fall back or die. Again and again did the Brigade charge, and as often came those terrible sheets of flame in our faces, while solid shot and shell enfiladed our ranks. The crash which followed the fearful blaze swept away men, as the coming wind would sweep away the leaves from the laurel overhead.... Just as the last charge of ammunition was rammed home, relief came, when the Brigade retired to the works in the rear, to learn that it was not expected of the Brigade to carry the works, only to hold a strong force of the enemy, while Hancock carried the lines in his front, which were more favorably situated for a successful attack."

It was in the trying scenes of this exacting effort that Major Leavitt, of the Sixteenth, so endeared by his manly character, received the wound from which he died on the 30th instant in Washington. His was a nature too broad and brave to be confined to the limits of his own Regiment. "None knew him but to love him."

How the day seemed to a Company C man appears in his diary entry for the day: "Still damp, wet and rainy; the day opened with an advance of the Second Corps under Hancock, who carried the enemy's front line of breastworks and captured a division of the rebels and their General, Johnson. We were soon on the move to support our First Division in a general charge and were soon into it, hot and heavy. The enemy soon had another enfilading fire of grape and canister on us, and we could do nothing. Edward Ireland was killed by a solid shot and Henry Ireland was wounded in the arm. Soon after being withdrawn to the rear, we were sent to the left to support the Sixth Corps, and lay in a line of rifle-pits about two hours, when again we advanced through the woods and joined the Sixth Corps on the right, where we lay all the afternoon. We heard our folks pouring shells into the enemy from mortars. We turned in for the night, resting on our arms, wet through to the skin."

The night was uncomfortable enough and during its hours there was an alarm that the enemy was advancing, while the truth was that Johnny Reb was quite as tired as the Yankees. Even soldiers must rest sometime, and early in the morning of the 13th the division was withdrawn to the rear, and for a short time laid aside responsibility, but it was not a long rest, since those rifle-pits must be filled with someone, and all too soon "we were moved up to the right, into works along with the One Hundred and Forty-sixth New York. Nothing here but water and mud.

May 13, '64 Showery all day, though the men are in good spirits, notwithstanding. About 8 p. m. when we were beginning to arrange to stretch out for the night, orders came to move, and we fell in, following the rest of the corps to the left. The mud was dreadful, the night dark, we forded streams up to our knees, and the mud all the time was over shoes." Grant had not yet found the spot through which he could force his way, so the Fifth Corps once more essays the part of pioneers, and leads the move towards the inevitable left, seeking in vain for some point not bristling with rebel bayonets, or threatening with black throated cannon. Truly our Lieutenant General is finding out, not only how strenuous is the Eastern Union soldier, but his eyes are opening wide as to the resourcefulness of the Eastern Confederate and his eternal vigilance.