I was told that a permit had been given to the late Bishop McIlvaine, of Ohio, and George H. Stuart, the president of the Christian Commission, to go on the boat with me, they having been granted permission to go to the front to look into the practical working of the United States Christian Commission. When the tug sailed, I being the only United States officer or soldier on board, Mr. Stuart introduced himself to me, and then presented me to the Bishop. Later he came to me and said that it was proposed to have a brief prayer-meeting in the cabin, at which were present the Bishop, Mr. Stuart, and one or two representatives of the Christian Commission, and a lady, who, I was told, had a pass from Mr. Lincoln permitting her to go to the front to see her son, who was wounded. It impressed me as an exceedingly pathetic and remarkable incident, and I remember that, being brought up a Presbyterian, I was a little curious to see whether the Bishop would read his prayers from the prayer-book or would make one extemporaneously. He, however, made what seemed to me then one of the most affecting and beautiful extempore prayers I ever listened to. When the little steamboat reached Belle Plain, the Bishop's party were put into an ambulance and had an escort of a part of a regiment to take them to Fredericksburg, as the intervening country was raided by Mosby's men and all wagon trains between Belle Plain and Fredericksburg had to be heavily guarded.
No transportation being provided for me to take my ammunition to the front, I took the responsibility of taking some wagons belonging to General Potter's division, none of my own being available. I did this without authority, but under stress of circumstances. When I got them loaded I found it was impossible to start that afternoon, as no escort could be furnished until the next morning. I concluded, however, the General would be anxious to know that the ammunition was en route, and I decided to start on alone for Fredericksburg. Putting my pistol in my boot-leg, I started off in a very severe thunder-storm, and, keeping a good lookout, rode to Fredericksburg without meeting any of the enemy's roving cavalry.
That night I spent with Captain Corson, quartermaster of General Gregg's division at Fredericksburg, and started the next morning for the front, where I reported to General Crittenden when he might expect the first wagons containing the ammunition, and then rode back to Fredericksburg to hurry them forward. When I returned with the first two wagons the regiment was in action, and I was obliged to get details of men to break open the boxes and carry the cartridges in blankets to supply the men along the line. I remember being verbally complimented for getting back some twelve hours sooner than it was thought possible, and shortly afterwards General Crittenden detailed me on his staff, but I declined the position, as my men expected me to stay with them and I had intimated that I would stay with them through the campaign. It was a few days after this that I was commissioned captain.
I might add that I understood General Potter was very angry, as he needed his wagons to bring commissary stores for his troops, and proposed to prefer charges against me for unwarrantably taking them. If he did so, I never heard anything from it. I took for granted that the necessities of the case justified my action.
CHAPTER XV
From Spottsylvania, until the army reached Petersburg, some portion of the regiment was under fire every day. During this period occurred the engagements at the North Anna River, Pamunkey, and Cold Harbor. The most fatiguing march that I ever experienced was that made by our brigade on its withdrawal from the south bank of the North Anna River, in which we had a similar experience to that during the withdrawal from the lines at the Wilderness, the men realizing that if we were attacked then it would be on the brink of a rapid running river we were about to recross. We crossed the North Anna River sometime between darkness and midnight, and then moved by a circuitous route, as the more direct lines were occupied by other troops. We marched, without any halts other than those occasioned by blockades ahead of us, all the next day and following night. In order to prevent my tired men from falling out, and not having the heart to urge them to keep up while I was riding my horse, I dismounted and walked at the rear of the company, feeling that so long as I was able to walk I could with propriety urge the men to do likewise. It was reported at the time that some of our men died of exhaustion in the middle of the night; at any rate, when the command finally halted and stacked arms fully one half of it were not able to answer the roll-call. During the following twenty-four hours, however, our stragglers kept coming in.
In a day or two the battle of Cold Harbor occurred. Our regiment went into line in an unfavorable position, it being in an abandoned cornfield, the woods beyond being held by the enemy. As was the custom whenever we went into line at night to throw up temporary breastworks, we were directed to do so here. The soil was sandy, there were no timber and no rail fences, and we had few intrenching tools, consequently it seemed impossible with the facilities at hand to construct any sort of temporary breastworks. Within a few rods of my company's position in the lines stood a large house, from which the family had hastily departed. As there was no timber, the only alternative that suggested itself to me was to take the roof from the house and break it up for our purpose. I therefore sent a detail of men who in a short time removed the roof from this building, while others soon knocked down the rest of the structure. This material was broken up, the sand piled on it, and thus were provided the breastworks that protected us the next day. This seemed a hardship to the occupants of this dwelling, but it was justified by the circumstances.
During the battle of Cold Harbor I had a second opportunity to see General Grant, having been sent to General Meade's headquarters where General Grant happened to be. When I reached headquarters, I found General Meade sprawled out on the ground with his face buried in a map, he being very near-sighted. Staff-officers were constantly riding up and reporting, and about fifty feet from where he lay I saw General Grant sitting alone on a stretcher. He had nothing to say to any one and seemed unconcerned. While waiting for my instructions, I intently watched him. Presently an officer brought up a Confederate officer, who was a prisoner. Looking up, General Grant quietly asked, "I assume you have questioned him?" The officer replied, "Yes, but he does not tell anything." Grant then remarked, "Ask him if he has a recent Richmond paper." The Confederate officer said that he had and took one from his haversack, giving it to the officer, who handed it to General Grant. Grant nodded his head in acknowledgment, and remarking, "You may take him back," opened the paper and began to read. Just then General Sheridan rode up. Grant arose, greeted him warmly, and seemed deeply interested as Sheridan began earnestly telling him, I assume, the results of his recent movements. Receiving my instructions I then returned to the regiment.
The crossing of the James River by the army on pontoon bridges, as is known, was a memorable movement, the river being about two thousand feet wide there. Our march from the James River to Petersburg was a very hard one, since the roads were sandy and it seemed that at every two steps forward we would slip one backward. However, towards evening, we reached a position near Petersburg, when, tired as we were, it seemed to me a favorable moment for us to advance and try to capture the town. We could see trains of cars coming in, their infantry being hastily unloaded, and everywhere were evidences that they were hurrying up forces to resist us. The failure to attack that afternoon was a great disappointment to General Grant, as one reading his Memoirs can ascertain. The next day, the 17th of June, was my last day of active service in the field.