Yorktown is historic ground. Going by water from Budd’s Ferry, the regiment landed upon the same shore which Washington’s Continentals had trodden eighty years earlier. Their progress thru the fields of yellow broom was over ground rendered memorable by the Revolutionary heroes. Near the present beautiful National cemetery and in sight of the present charming Yorktown battle-monument stood a Confederate intrenchment which occasioned annoyance to McClellan’s army. It had withstood two assaults, and was in the way of the army’s advance. Lt. Col. Wells offered to take the work; and his offer was accepted. Col. Wells had read American history and knew how “Mad Anthony” Wayne achieved immortality; the appeal now would be to cold steel. About 2 A. M. the 5th, 8th and 10th companies were quietly awakened, the 5th to make the attack, and the others to serve as supports. The men formed their line amid the silence of the woods; and, at earliest dawn, heard their commander whisper, “This is McClellan’s first order. The honor of Massachusetts is in your keeping. Charge!” Across four hundred yards of miry, uneven ground they advanced in the face of Confederate rifle fire. Arriving at the redoubt, with a shout for old Massachusetts, they fired a single volley; and completed their task with the bayonet. Just ten minutes after Col. Wells’ command, the intrenchment was in Union hands. An old lithograph of this action is to be seen in the museum of the Cadet Armory, Boston.
Four members of the 5th Company were here killed. April 26 was the date of the assault; four days later the remains were sent north, and in due time were received with a magnificent demonstration of honor in Chelsea. One of the dead, Private Allen A. Kingsbury of Medfield, was specially honored by the publication of a memorial biography.
The battle of Williamsburg was almost a private affair with Hooker’s division. Williamsburg, the “cradle of the republic” and birthplace of the American revolution, had once been a proud capital. It is today, and always has been, noted for the warm-hearted hospitality of its citizens. It was there that Washington earned his degree as civil engineer, and there he wooed and won his bride. There Patrick Henry thundered forth the brave words, “If that be treason, make the most of it.” And there today the two sons of President John Tyler reside, one serving as county judge and the other as president of “William and Mary College.” But so early as 1862 the glory had departed, and the shabbiness which accompanies slavery was dominant. There on May 5, 1862, amid the beeches and sycamore trees about Fort Magruder Gen. Joseph E. Johnston halted his retreat and engaged in a rear-guard action. His intrenchments were shallow; but the pursuing Federal troops were few—only a single division. Hence the fighting was severe. When finally the 1st Regiment marched thru the town and up “Duke of Gloucester” St. in pursuit of the broken Confederate column, they felt that they had fully earned their laurels.
While most of the Union army went up the York river by boat, the 1st Regiment made the journey on land. Altho the country was naturally fertile and the climate of the best, a general seediness and “run down” condition prevailed, so that it was like a desert to the weary, hungry marchers. Finally the Williamsburg road brought the troops to Seven Pines—the spot from whose tree-tops could be seen the spires of Richmond, six miles away. Doubtless everyone has passed thru some experience so terrible that it comes back in his moments of nightmare. Seven Pines and Savage’s Station fill that rôle for veterans of the old 1st. Today a portion of the battle-field is a National cemetery, a veritable God’s acre, sacred to the memory of the dead, melodious with the voice of cat-bird and mocking-bird and the graceful killdeer. There the magnolia grows to perfection and the luscious fig matures in the summer sunshine. But this district, usually so dry and substantial, is at the edge of the Chickahominy or White Oak Swamp. From May 31 to June 25, 1862, unusually severe rains swelled the Chickahominy and inundated the surrounding country. Fortunately there are islands in the swamp, places of partial refuge, to which our men resorted. McClellan’s plan called for a junction with the army of Irvin McDowell about June 1, and for a grand assault by the combined forces upon the Confederate Johnston. For reasons which seemed adequate to the authorities in Washington, notwithstanding the serious results for McClellan and his army, McDowell was forbidden to march south and keep his appointment. While McClellan waited, and while the floods refused to abate, the Army of the Potomac was in a bad way. R. E. Lee, Johnston’s successor, attacked nearly every day. Mosquitoes bit, and the result thereof was malaria. Finally the ground was dug over and fought over so constantly that there was time neither to care for the wounded nor bury the dead; and a condition of horror ensued which surpasses all power of description. Men actually had to sleep side by side with their dead comrades,—comrades who had been dead for days. It is very easy to understand why the Peninsular campaign developed into a retreat; a month of such fighting was all that flesh and blood could endure. Not even the issue of a whiskey ration, which commenced at this time, could sufficiently blunt the soldiers’ senses—altho it did accomplish vast moral damage. So when McClellan became convinced that he would not have McDowell’s co-operation, he turned back; he could do nothing else.
It was easier in the north to organize new regiments with their numerous openings for the appointment of officers, and with the enlisted men starting military life on an equality rather than with some as veterans and others as “rookies.” Nevertheless this system resulted in depleting the older and more experienced regiments, and cost the government millions of dollars in unnecessary expense. Massachusetts, by contrast with other states, did recruit up her three-year regiments, and endeavored to keep their ranks filled, even tho the later accessions had to be given the privilege of taking discharges with their regiments at the end of less than three years. Sept. 5, 1862, a large number of recruits arrived, who had been enlisted by officers of the 1st in Massachusetts, and who brought the companies once more up to one hundred each. About the same time there was an exchange of prisoners, and the men who returned from their unwilling residence in southern cities had many interesting experiences to relate.
After the Peninsular campaign, as regiments became reduced in size to not more than five hundred men, the government decided to economize by dismissing the regimental bands, and substituting brigade bands. The First bade regretful farewell to their musicians; this method of saving money the men regarded as a mistake.
Much of the hard fighting done by the 1st Regiment took place within a very limited area. Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Wilderness and Spotsylvania all lie within a few square miles, and all can be visited by automobile within half a day. Moreover a visitor cannot fail to be impressed with the fact that these battle-fields seem to have been selected so as to destroy the least possible amount of private property. Outside of the actual city of Fredericksburg, the country is little better than pine-barren, and contains few houses and not even much cultivated land. Since we now know pines to be health-giving, and well-drained sandy soil to be freest from disease germs, we can see how this choice of battle-fields by the Army of the Potomac doubtless saved lives as well as property. The climate too is free from extremes. But the men of 1863 and 1864 did not appreciate these things; all that they had time to notice were the dust and drought and heat and hunger and hard fighting.
At Fredericksburg Gen. A. E. Burnside tried to march directly south toward Richmond, crossing the Rappahannock on pontoon bridges. It was a winter battle—the date was Dec. 13, 1862—with great discomfort and a fair chance that wounded men would freeze to death. Fifer Bardeen tells that one captain, Walker, trembled as he entered the battle—and Capt. Walker was the bravest of the brave. Lee had every advantage of position; the resulting disaster was inevitable.
About two months after Col. Cowdin’s promotion, as the regiment were covering the retreat of the army from Fredericksburg, they were introduced to their new colonel. Napoleon B. McLoughlin, in spite of his French-Irish name, was a Vermont Yankee. He had entered the regular army from the New York 7th, and at the time of his appointment to the Colonelcy was a captain in the 6th U. S. Cavalry. He was respected and well liked; but he always suffered from the fact that the men felt him somewhat of an interloper. Capt. Baldwin of the 4th Company had become Lt. Col. and by all rules of seniority should have been made Colonel. However Col. McLoughlin held the esteem of his men, and made an honorable record. His regular army strictness was beneficial to his new command. On Feb. 9, 1863, two months after the arrival of the new colonel, the regiment was subjected to an extremely rigid inspection; and was pronounced one of the eleven best disciplined and most efficient regiments of the one hundred fifty constituting the Army of the Potomac.