The Sixth moved again on the 15th of August and fought the battle known as Deep Run. We were posted in the woods with Hawley’s brigade, looking for the position of the enemy; but the woods were so dense that we could scarcely stand in line. The rebel earthworks were in our front, but their exact position or strength was unknown to the brigade. We fixed bayonets and cocked our rifles preparatory to an advance and charge. Gen. Terry informed us in whispers, as near as he could, the location of the enemy, and directed us to creep through the underbrush till we came to a certain tree, and then charge. The word “forward” was given and the brigade moved through the woods as fast as the tangled underbrush would permit. The enemy discovered our
advance ere we had proceeded far, and with a loud yell they opened fire from howitzers and musketry. The latter was terrific, and the bullets skipped through the leaves of the trees in terrible volleys. In passing through the woods we came to an opening which was made by the trees being felled and brush cleared away. About twenty rods in our front ranged a strong earthwork, behind which the rebels were strongly posted, and in the front was a huge abatis almost defying any approach. On went our brigade with a cheer, tumbling through the abatis and picking our way as best we could amid a furious storm of bullets; but the desperate rebels held their works till they saw us clear of the abatis and knew that we were coming for them, when they turned and fled; but we were too quick for some of them. Springing upon them in their pits we had a hand to hand combat, till they saw it was useless to hold out longer and a few surrendered, while the main body skedaddled through a corn field into a piece of woods. Beyond this point we did not proceed, as a deep ravine skirted the edge of the field, and beyond this the enemy were massing their scattered forces preparatory to regaining what they had lost.
With our force engaged and with the rebel force in front, it was deemed imprudent to remain on the captured ground and we fell back slowly, harrassed by the rebel sharpshooters. Once they charged upon
our line, forcing us back with greater speed than we cared to travel on that hot day; and, although we did not run, we executed “some pretty tall walking.” A second dash made upon us we repelled with a few bullets, which prevented any further trouble from them. They recaptured their lost works and, doubtless, considered themselves the victors. Our captures amounted to about 200 prisoners and two stands of colors. The Sixth lost in this action five killed, sixty-nine wounded and eleven missing. Among the wounded were Captains Bennett S. Lewis, John Slottlar and Dwight A. Woodruff (severely), and Lieutenants John Waters, Joseph Miller and George Bellows. Capt. Woodruff suffered the amputation of his arm and endured severe pain for a few weeks, till released by death. He entered the army as a private and was steadily promoted for good conduct. He was brave and faithful, beloved by the regiment, and his untimely death was regretted by all. The color guard of the Sixth was worsted in this engagement, the sergeant with two corporals were wounded, and one was overcome by the heat. The remaining corporal, Edward S. Downs, seized the flag and brought it off the field in safety.
The second day after this engagement the rebels, emboldened by the fact of the Union lines not being advanced, made a simultaneous attack all along our lines, and drove in our pickets, but were repulsed
after a sharp skirmish, and they were glad enough to retire. The corps fell back about two miles at night to a former position occupied by us, and at seven o’clock orders came for us to march again. It had been raining quite hard, and that Virginia mud was decidedly uncomfortable to march in. The artillery often got stuck in the mud and the command was necessarily delayed. After a wearisome march of seven hours we crossed the Appomatox river at Point of Rocks and resumed our march to the Weldon R. R. near Ream’s Station, in the rear of Petersburg.
Here we were again posted at the front. The Sixth occupied one side of the railroad track with the rebels on the other. Tents were out of the question. When a regiment moves from one place to another and halts for a season, to use a military term, “we pitch our tents;” but in this Virginia campaign tents were obsolete, and the term now used was, “we dug our holes.” Tents served to attract the enemy and draw their fire, and it was very unsafe to sleep in one even if we could do so; but in the holes in the ground we felt comparatively secure. It was rather a ludicrous sight to a casual observer to find an army of men burrowing in holes in the earth like so many woodchucks, and yet such was the fact. The whole of Grant’s line, extending from the south of Petersburg along the line of the Appomatox River down across Bermuda Hundred to the James, the army, when not
engaged, were inside the “rat holes,” as the boys termed them. Some of these holes held a corporal’s guard, while others only served for two or three. They were hastily made, without any regard to architectural proportions, and yet not so deep but that they could be quickly evacuated.
Shelling from the rebels and from our side was kept up day after day and night after night for weeks, and when the tired soldier had a few moments to sleep he quickly availed himself of it, and no amount of shelling would disturb his slumbers; but let the clear notes of the bugle sound through the air and he was quickly at his post. We knew the bugle call meant work; either some advance was threatened, or the line ordered to move to another quarter. It required but little time to pack up our household goods, and we were not required to run after drays to load them, but the clothes we wore were our bedding, and any hole we found when night overtook us was our bed, with the sky for a covering and with a consciousness that we were battling for the right, made sleep attractive to the Union soldier.
Gen. Hawley’s brigade was ordered out on the morning of Sept. 3d to witness the execution of a soldier of the 7th Connecticut by hanging. The brigade formed three sides of a hollow square around the gallows and saw the victim yield up his life at the end of a rope. He had some real or fancied grudge