On the afternoon of the same day, (the 10th,) a series of assaults was organized along the different corps lines. The Second Division of the Second Corps, which had come up by the crossroads taken as above related, was to make the charge on the extreme left, and the two detached regiments reported to, and participated in the charge with it. Only one of these assaults was successful, (that of the Sixth Corps,) and the line of works and many of the prisoners captured by it had to be abandoned, owing to the failure of the attacks to the right and left. That on the left being unsuccessful, and the troops retiring from the hill, left the two detached regiments again alone to hold the ground which had cost them a severe struggle. This they did until relieved after dark, when, rejoining their brigade, they left the position to the Second Corps, all of which was concentrated there on the night of the 11th.
On the 12th came one of the most stubbornly-contested struggles of the war. It was for the possession of the "bloody angle" which the Fifteenth and First had repeatedly attacked two days previously. The first charge was made by the Second Corps early in the morning, took the rebels by surprise, carried a part of the line of works, captured several thousand prisoners and a large number of guns. The Sixth Corps was moved to the position as soon as practicable, to complete the victory, the enemy having recovered from the shock and concentrated his forces. The First Division was ordered to attack first, to the right of the Second Corps, in echelon of brigades, the First Brigade on the right, and the Fifteenth Regiment on the extreme right of the front line. It was placed in position, in a wood of low pines, by a superior officer, in a drizzling rain. At the order to charge, it dashed gallantly forward with bayonets fixed, and trailed to escape the low branches, into the narrow strip of open ground, upon the opposite margin of which was the rebel intrenched line, covered with an abattis of slashed brush. Its line being very oblique to that of the enemy, it was compelled to execute a halfwheel, under a most murderous fire. Again it dashed forward, carried the work at the point of the bayonet, (and with some actual bayonet fighting, a very unusual thing,) captured a stand of colors and all the rebels who did not fall or run. It was the only regiment of the Sixth Corps which got inside the enemy's fortifications that day. Its right flank, however, being entirely "in the air," and a solid rebel line moving toward it, subjected to the continued fire from a second rebel work in front and from the numerous "traverses" of the line to the left which had not been carried, it was compelled to retire again to the wood. This desperate charge was made at fearful cost. More than half of the rank and file, and seven of the most valued officers fell, killed or wounded, inside or near the hostile works. Out of four hundred and twenty-nine men and fourteen line officers who crossed the Rapidan on the 4th, only one hundred and twenty-two men and four officers remained.
It has been said that the other brigades did not get actual possession of the works in their front. They did, however, gain and hold a position so near as to command and hold them under their guns, until abandoned during the night. How obstinate and determined was the rebel defence was shown by the fact that the trench, full three feet deep, was, in places, even full of rebel dead, and a pavement of mud covering the uppermost bodies, told how they had stood upon their fallen comrades and continued the fight. A large white oak tree was cut off by bullets even with the top of the breastwork, and in its fall pinned one rebel soldier to the ground.
From Spottsylvania to Petersburg—a sanguinary track, with every here-and-there a fierce encounter with the foe—thence, in July, to Washington, where Early was met at the head of Seventh street; thence into the Shenandoah Valley, under Sheridan, the regiment shared the successes and failures, the honors and losses, of the army and corps. It was often detached for special service of responsibility and danger. In the pursuit of Early's flying troops from the gates of Washington, it became necessary to send a force across to the parallel road on which the enemy were moving, to ascertain the position of the rear of their column, and verify a suspected intention on their part to halt and strike in flank our rapidly-advancing column. The Fifteenth New Jersey was sent upon that mission, and executed it to the satisfaction of the corps commander, but found no such design on the part of the enemy. A few days later, Early contested the crossing of the Shenandoah at Snicker's Ford, and it was desired to examine the fords lower down the river. The Fifteenth was again sent, tested the fords, the depth of water, bed of the stream, &c., under a skirmish fire, and returned with its information—which was not needed, as the upper ford was abandoned by the enemy during the night.
At Winchester, on the 17th of August, whilst Sheridan was retiring before Early's army, reinforced by Longstreet, (not because unable to cope with it, but because under orders from Grant not to accept or deliver battle at that time,) the First Brigade was left, with the cavalry, to obstruct their march whilst our army was crossing the Opequan and getting into position. The Fifteenth Regiment was deployed into a skirmish line, and posted across the turnpike by which they were approaching, the other regiments being posted farther to the left. From noon until nearly dark it held them in check, with the assistance of two squadrons (dismounted) of the Third New Jersey Cavalry, deluding them into the belief that Sheridan's whole army was there in position to receive their attack. The men were carefully posted along a small stream, behind stone fences, trees, and rocks. Two rebel skirmish lines successively pushed against them, soon retired, being badly punished, and Early's army ployed into columns of attack. There was something seriously ludicrous in the sight. Twenty thousand rebels could be distinctly seen from the hills on which our right rested, carefully forming to attack a feeble line of skirmishers. Our brigade numbered but eight hundred and fifty muskets, all told; no supports but the color-guards. The cavalry, massed to the rear, could render no assistance against heavy columns of infantry. Whilst the formation was proceeding, the stubborn skirmish continued, and, as we afterward learned, Early decided to postpone the attack until the next day. Just before dark, however, Breckenridge, who commanded Early's left division, was led in some way to suspect the weakness of the force before him, and obtained permission to put his left brigade in charge. The solid mass plunged directly through our attenuated line of one man to every five or ten paces; then brigade after brigade charged in echelon from their left to right. The fighting qualities of men were seldom more severely tested. It was easy to get away, but to hold the enemy on the right, or so obstruct them that the other regiments posted to the left could get out, was a serious problem. The line was rallied and re-formed, from one stone fence to another. In the darkness the men sometimes became intermingled with the enemy, a Union officer, at one time, assuming command of a rebel regiment. About eleven o'clock, in the outskirts of the city, the contest was finally given up, all the left getting away but a detachment of the Tenth, which got lost in the darkness, and a few men of the Fifteenth and Fourth, surrounded unawares.
On the 19th of September came the battle of the Opequan—generally known as the battle of Winchester. Viewed in all its relations, it was one of the most important of the war. At the first onset of Sheridan's army, the enemy were forced some distance from their position; but the impetus of the assault being broken by an obstinate resistance, the Union lines retired a short distance, and the enemy made a counter advance. The Fifteenth was pushed forward on a double-quick, across a ravine, to take possession of a hill and obstruct their advance, whilst the lines were being reorganized. It was a perilous duty gallantly discharged. One of our division commanders said the movement saved the day. The re-formed lines again advanced, gathering up the Fifteenth in their progress, and Early was sent "whirling up the valley."
Three days later, (on the 22d,) at Fisher's Hill, which they regarded as an impregnable position, the First New Jersey Brigade was designated to lead the charge, being about the centre of the corps line. Sweeping down through a ravine, clambering up the opposite rocks to the grassy slope which fronted the rebel line, under a perfect storm of bullets, which fortunately passed almost wholly just over their heads, they rushed up to and entered the works in advance of any other troops, capturing a number of guns, and pursued the flying enemy across the plain until darkness covered their retreat. It was the first brigade re-formed after the long charge, and ready for the night march in pursuit.
At Cedar Creek, on the 19th of October—another famous victory—after the left of the Union line, composed of parts of the Eighth and Nineteenth Corps, had been routed by the enemy's successfully executed surprise before daylight, the Sixth Corps moved rapidly by a flank across the track of their advance, and the Jersey Brigade occupied the most advanced and difficult position, holding it firmly under severe fire. Once it was ordered back to the general alignment, but its former place being considered a key position, it was ordered to retake it, which it did, and held it tenaciously and successfully, until again ordered to retire, with the whole corps, to the new line selected for strategic reasons, (the first having been assumed in the haste and confusion of the morning.) This was no "rout," as represented by a popular ballad, but a movement deliberately planned and executed by Gen. Wright, in the absence of Sheridan, who, upon arrival, after his famous "ride," found the corps in a well formed-line, and quietly taking their luncheon, preparatory to the counter attack of the afternoon, which routed the army seven times encountered within four months, captured a considerable part of it, with guns and colors, and ended its existence as a separate command. In this battle, one of the three field officers of the Fifteenth was killed, and the other two wounded; the line, rank and file, suffered severely.
From Cedar Creek, back to the main army before Petersburg, through the remaining operations there, including the final assault and capture of Petersburg and Richmond, along the rapid pursuit to Appomatox, we cannot follow the regiment in detail. We have already exceeded our limits. We must content ourselves with saying that, throughout these, and those of previous campaigns which have been passed over without mention, it always did its duty. In the long marches, by night and day, in summer's heat and winter's cold, through loamy mud and mucky swamp, in rain and snow, over frozen hummocks or glaze of ice, burdened with arms, ammunition, rations, accoutrements and equipments, often pressed to the limit of human endurance, it was always in its place, and cheerfully responded to the word of command. In the numerous minor fights and skirmishes, which often try the soldier more than the general engagement, it did what was expected of it. In the death-grapples of army with army, from 1862 to 1865, it bore the stars and stripes with honor and distinction. No regiment fought with more tenacious courage, or presented a more steady and unbroken front to the foe. Where the fire was hottest, the charge most impetuous, the resistance most stubborn, the carnage most fearful, it was found. It was never ordered to take a position that it did not reach it. It was never required to hold a post that it did not hold it. It never assaulted a line of the enemy that it did not drive it. It never charged a rebel work that it did not breach it. Whatever might be the general result, the Fifteenth New Jersey Volunteers always performed the part assigned it.
The sad part of the story—that at which eyes will moisten and hearts ache—must be told in few lines. Such a record must be traced in blood. When the roll is called, three hundred and sixty-one times it must be answered, "Dead on the field of honor." They gave their lives for the Union, for their country, for the cause of human liberty. Their names should be written in gold, and hallowed by a grateful people with affectionate remembrance. No other regiment from New Jersey suffered nearly so heavy a loss, though most were much larger in numbers. Add to this "roll of honor" the unknown number of those crippled by wounds and wasted by incurable disease; remember that they came chiefly from the original nine hundred and forty-seven, and some idea may be formed of the horrid work of war. It is often a source of painful reflections to look back over the history of this regiment and think of the large number of promising young men, many of them the brightest, bravest, purest, and best of our State, who fell along its bloody pathway, from Fredericksburg to Appomattox. Who can estimate their value to our State and country, if living? Fallen, who can compute the loss?