As the whole force covering our right vanished, the regiment was subjected to a galling fire from that direction as well as the front. Colonel Draper then ordered a change of front, but seeing that the enemy's movement threatened to cut us off from our forces in the rear he changed the order to a movement by the left flank in the same direction.
The sorghum before mentioned save us a slight shelter, and we hurriedly made our way through it, the vicious "zip" of the rebel bullets giving us an incentive to haste. Reaching the ravine between the Boisseau house and the sorghum field we found remnants of several regiments of the First Division, which had fallen into disorder, still gallantly holding their ground, gathered in little groups around their colors. Here a stubborn stand was made, and the chief conflict of the day on the part of our regiment was fought. Many acts of individual gallantry might be mentioned, the officers, and in some noticeable instances the enlisted men, doing brave and serviceable work in rallying the scattered squads and endeavoring to check the advance of the enemy. But the force was unequal to the task, the Thirty-sixth being the only regiment that retained its organization; and the position soon became extremely critical.
A line of the enemy's skirmishers now appeared at the mouth of the ravine, on our left flank, and coolly picked off our men without opposition, our fire being mainly directed at the greater body of the rebel force, which had meanwhile pressed well around to our right, having cut off and captured a part of our brigade and driven back the remainder. The regiment could hold its ground but a short time under the demoralizing effect of a sharp fire from three sides, and Lieutenant-Colonel Draper, seeing that further resistance would be useless sacrifice, seized the colors, against the protest of Color-Sergeant Rawson, and gave the order to retire.
A lively scattering over the fences and through the grounds of the Boisseau house ensued, each man doing his level best to preserve a life for future usefulness to his country, and little breath was taken until the shelter of a reserve line and a section of Roemer's battery was secured. Here General Potter was found sitting gloomily on his horse, to whom Colonel Draper reported with fifty-two men of our regiment and twenty men of the Fifty-sixth Massachusetts as "the remains of his division." The men of the Fifth Corps and that part of the Ninth held in reserve had by this time been so disposed as to check any further advance of the enemy, and the battle ceased as darkness came on. The remnant of our regiment proceeded to the new line, which was found with difficulty in the dark, and remained for a short time in position at the edge of a piece of woods, picking up occasional stragglers.
During the evening we were ordered back to the line of works taken by the Fifth Corps in the morning, where we were soon joined by a detachment of about sixty men, under Captains Ames and Morse, which became separated from the colors in the retreat. As each party had for a time good reason for supposing the other to be in the hands of the enemy, the reunion was a joyful one. At roll-call the regiment mustered one hundred and forty-three men, the largest number by far of any regiment in the division, although some had three times that number in the ranks before going into action. The casualties in the Thirty-sixth were four killed, sixteen wounded, and sixteen missing,—a surprisingly small number in view of the perilous position in which the regiment was placed. The killed were Corporal Robert F. Webb, Company A, Privates Lyman H. Gilbert, Company E, Rufus H. Carter, Company I, and Belthezar Margenot, Company K,—the last two being transferred men from the Twenty-first Regiment. Sergeant Lucius L. Merrick, Company E, who rejoined the regiment the night before, was mortally wounded and died ten days later. Merrick was known throughout the regiment, and respected by all for his manly Christian character. He was a graduate of Amherst College, and at the time of his enlistment was preparing for the ministry. He had been twice wounded, at Knoxville and in the Wilderness, and was about to receive a commission in a regiment of colored troops. He was one of the best soldiers in the regiment, and his death caused sincere grief. Sergeant Charles Underwood, of Company D, was wounded in the knee near the Boisseau house, and fell into the hands of the enemy. His leg was amputated, and in a short time he was sent through to our lines. A second and third amputation followed a year or two later, and he died. Sergeant-Major Washburn was shot through the face, receiving a very severe wound, and Captain J. B. Smith, serving on the staff of General Potter, was shot in the hand, and suffered amputation of a finger.
Of the four divisions engaged the loss fell chiefly on ours, the number of missing being very large. The official report of casualties in the division was,—killed fifty-one; wounded two hundred and eighty; missing, one thousand three hundred and thirteen. A large proportion of the missing were from the First Brigade, as the regiments in its first line were cut off by the enemy's flank movement, and nearly all of the Fifty-first New York, and a large number of the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, and Fifty-eighth Massachusetts were captured.
The Second Brigade of our division first received the shock of the evening's charge, and when it was seen that it could not withstand it, the Seventh Rhode Island, in reserve, was ordered to form a new line near the Pegram house, and an order which, unfortunately, was not received by him, was despatched to General Curtin to fall back to the line thus established. If this movement had been made it is probable that the heavy loss in the brigade would have been avoided. Speculation as to the causes which occasioned this disaster to our corps is, perhaps, unprofitable, and can afford but little consolation; but one fact seems clear, that the delays and blunders of general officers, rather than cowardice or misconduct of the men fighting at the front, brought about the mortifying result. The vexatious and apparently needless halt after the first success of the Fifth Corps in the morning has been alluded to. This gave the enemy time to reinforce his threatened line, and the rebel commanders, thoroughly familiar with the ground, had their customary advantage of being able to direct their movements understandingly.[23]
[23] This action is called by the Confederates the battle of Jones' Farm. Lane's North Carolina brigade formed the enemy's right; one of Wilcox's brigades the left, with McRae's North Carolina brigade as a support. The latter, however, "rushed forward to participate in the fight." See History of Lane's North Carolina Brigade, in Southern Historical Society Papers, 1881, pp. 354-356.
During the night a storm began, and the day following was one of the most dismal and uncomfortable ever experienced by the regiment. No movement was attempted, but details were employed in reversing the works behind which we were bivouacked, so they might afford protection in case of an advance by the enemy. The work was very difficult, as the constant rain gave the freshly turned earth the consistency of mud. The aspect of the men, as they painfully prodded the moist ground with sticky shovels or crouched around smoky and sputtering fires, was lugubrious in the extreme, and their feelings corresponded with their looks. Occasional shots were exchanged by the pickets, and one man of the regiment, while sitting near a fire, was wounded by a stray bullet.