In a short time, there was a call for soldiers whose time was nearly expired, to re-enlist, and get a heavy bounty and thirty days' furlough. The men thought more of the furlough than they did of the money. The Thirty-second most all re-enlisted, and came home as a regiment, bringing their arms with them, which but few regiments had the privilege of doing. But we could not all come home. There were one hundred and fifty of us that had to remain behind. The service was harder than before, as we had to do fatigue-duty; besides, we built a fort at Warrenton Junction. But time wore slowly away until the regiment came back. We were all glad to see them.
One of my comrades was taken sick a few days after returning, and I took care of him, besides doing my duty on the picket-line, which made my work very hard,—harder than my constitution would endure. After he had got better, I was taken sick with a fever while on the line; I had hard work to get to my cabin. When I arrived there, I could not sit up. The doctor was called, and he did what he could for me, but to no use, I had to go through with the fever. Our beds were constructed by driving a crotched stick down at each corner, and then placing a pole from one to the other. After this, we laid small straight sticks across them, then spreading our rubber blankets over the whole, we thus formed our beds; we used our knapsacks for pillows. How long those days seemed, my flesh burning with fever, and the bed being so hard! But I had as good care as could be expected, in such a place as that. There I remained four weeks, before I was able to sit up; those were the longest weeks I ever saw. I little thought, as I lay there, that I should ever return home to my family, for I was married two years previous. But God saw fit to spare my life, perhaps to aid in conquering the foe.
It was not long after I got well before I started on the campaign of 1864, under the generalship of U. S. Grant. He was appointed to that position March 9, and on the twelfth of that month, he took command of the whole United-States' armies. Then we knew that we were to do some fighting. But that was what we went for; and we thought the quicker we commenced, the sooner we should be through and return home (what there was left of us).
Spring came, and the season was beautiful. Cherry and pear trees were in blossom, then apple-trees took their turn. We longed to remain there, but as the ground became settled, we heard of the forces beginning to concentrate around Brandy Station and Culpepper. As we were left at our old place, we began to entertain hopes that we should remain. But we were not kept in suspense long; for, on the morning of April 30, 1864, the bugle sounded for us to pack our knapsacks and be ready for the march. About noon, we bade farewell to the spot where had been our homes for the past few months, and moved on, bidding good-by to some of our southern friends we were to leave behind. Some of them were very friendly and kind to us. When I had nothing else to do, I used to make axe-handles, and helped one of our neighbors mend his wagon. I also repaired clocks, and for my pay would get milk and tobacco. So I had the privilege of sending my money all home to my family, thinking, that if I lived to return, it would be of use to me. But I was destined to disappointment, for the money was all gone before I returned home.
THE CAMPAIGN OF 1864.
On the thirtieth of April, 1864, we marched to Rappahannock Station, and there camped for the night. In the morning, we again set out; but had only a short march before we arrived at Brandy Station, where we again halted and remained two nights, the first and second days of May. While I was there, I called on my cousin, who was a member of the Thirty-seventh Regiment. While I was gone, the bugle sounded the advance, and I was obliged to run to overtake them, but did not until they halted again. At eleven o'clock, the orders for advance were given, and the whole of the great Army of the Potomac was again in motion. We knew not where we were going, but at the dawn of day we were at the Germania Ford. After crossing, we halted to rest. We improved the time in making coffee and getting our breakfast; then we were ordered forward again. We took the plank-road leading to Fredericksburg, and marched to the pike-road running by the Wilderness Tavern; turning, and marching on that about half a mile, we halted, placed our guard, and remained until morning. When we crossed the Rapidan River, we turned and cast a wistful glance back, for we thought it was the last time we should ever cross it; and so it proved.
In the morning, the guard was called in to resume their march. We did not know that the enemy were near, when a squad of cavalry came riding up to headquarters, and the pickets were ordered back with a new detachment. The rest of the troops formed in line, and commenced building breastworks. But we had to work expeditiously to get them completed. We knew the time of action was near at hand. How we longed to see the loved ones at home, ere we entered the deathly strife.
We had not long to wait before the crash came, and the battle was raging with fearful effect. What feelings of anguish were excited, of which none can know anything except those who have been there. The sound of battle is not pleasant, even if a person is not in danger. We remained a short time behind the works that we had built, and then moved off to the right, and across the pike-road. There we were exposed to a direct fire from the enemy. There my tent-mate was wounded by a minie-ball; I was standing by his side when he was hit. How bad I felt, because I could not assist him or do anything for him! But we were not allowed to stop, and we did not hear how badly he was wounded until the next day, when we heard it was nothing but a flesh-wound. I was glad it was no worse.
After crossing the road, we moved to the right a short distance, and then forward. The ground was covered with pine and shrub oaks, so it was almost impossible to get through. We advanced a short distance before we came near the enemy. We were in strong force, and then commenced our work of death. It was heart-rending to see the wounded, dead and dying, lie on the ground under our feet, and the number still increasing. That was a horrible place of death and destruction in the dense wilderness, with peals of musketry, like distant thunder, sounding from right to left. Sometimes it seemed the hardest on the right, and then in the centre; and so on. The position we held was the centre, being a part of the First Division of the Fifth Corps, under the command of General Warren. But night came on at last, and the shades of darkness put an end to the strife for that day, neither party seeming to gain any advantage over the other. We again moved by the left to our old breastworks, and there remained during the night, tired and weary. We slept on our arms (what little sleep we had), and in the morning, the combat was renewed with increased vigor, as if the rebels were determined to break our lines, or die in the attempt. This suited us, for it weakened their forces more than ours; but they got sick of it in a short time, and then our skirmishers would take some of the guns that lay on the field and put five charges into them, and then tie them to trees, well-sighted at the enemy, and pull them off. Thus we passed a few hours of the day, when the battle again commenced, raging more fiercely than before, and lasted until late into the night.
Thus ended the second day's fight in the Wilderness. The loss in the Thirty-second was very slight; in Company E, there were only three wounded. Again we slept on our arms, eager to commence again at dawn of day. On May 7th, the fighting was not so severe, little more than skirmishing, and we had some rest, which we needed very much. May 8th, there was not much fighting. We noticed the army in motion again, but we still held our lines until night, when we silently left our breastworks, never to return. We passed the hospital, where were two thousand of our wounded, some waiting to have their wounds dressed. What a horrible sight to behold, men mangled in every form! The line having moved to the left, we reached Spottsylvania. We marched to the left until we arrived at Laurel Hill, where we were again in action, and where artillery was used. The first day was occupied in skirmishing and strengthening the skirmish-line. But as night came on, the line charged, and drove the enemy back, so that we could look into their works. We then formed our rifle-pits on the crest of the hills, within twenty rods of the enemy. We were in those rifle-pits two days, unable to raise our heads above the embankment with safety. It rained nearly the whole time, and we were drenched to the skin, and covered with mud. In the morning, after we were stationed in the rifle-pits, we, with the rest of the brigade, were ordered to charge the enemy's works, and at seven o'clock, the assault commenced. On we went to death. They reserved their fire until we were but a few yards off, and then opened with grape and musketry. They had such a flank-fire on us, that we could not stand it, and all that returned had to crawl away. We lost about half our number in this assault; and the next morning, we were ordered to make another charge. But we knew too well the strength of their lines to go willingly to sure death, and the orders were countermanded. But we had to remain in the rifle-pits forty-three hours, having no sleep and no chance to straighten our limbs. When we were relieved, we had to start for Spottsylvania. The night was dark and muddy; the mud was half-way up to our knees, and all that long night (this being the third night), without sleep. But as the morning dawned, we arrived at Spottsylvania. We had nothing to do until nearly night, so we had a chance to rest our weary limbs. But late in the afternoon, we had to form, and move to within a few rods of the court-house. Here we entrenched ourselves, having good rifle-pits and good breast-works; so we were confident they could not drive us away. The next morning, the artillery opened their deadly fire on both sides. The sound was almost deafening; the shells howling through the air and over our heads (for I lay between the two lines, on the picket-line).