Reminiscences of the Nineteenth Massachusetts Regiment

by John G. B. Adams

Among the first to go down was Color-Sergeant Ben Falls. He was in advance of me, and as he fell he said, “John, your old uncle has got his quietus this time.” I could not stop to reply then, but in the lull of the battle went to him, and found that he was shot through the body; he was carried to the rear, and died the next day. No man in the ranks of the Union army rendered better service than Benj. F. Falls. Always ready for duty, ever cheerful, his influence for good extended through the regiment. Another to fall that day was Sergt. William H. Ross. Until this campaign he had been detailed at the headquarters of the division quartermaster, and one would think he was making up for lost time. From the day we entered the Wilderness until he gave up his life he was conspicuous for his bravery. Corp. George E. Breed of Company C, a brave little fellow, not much larger than his knapsack, was serving his second enlistment, and was not twenty years old when killed. Several others were killed, besides many wounded.

We remained here until the night of the 11th, when men were detailed to keep up the skirmish firing while the brigade was withdrawn. It was a dark, dreary night, and we fell over stumps and fallen trees as we moved to the left. At four o’clock on the morning of the 12th we formed in line. Our orders were to give commands in whispers, have dippers so hung that they would not rattle against bayonets, and move forward. We were soon in front of the rebel works, which were protected by abatis. We tore these aside and passed on. One regiment, forgetting the orders, gave a cheer, and the rebels were aroused, yet over the works we went, and the fiercest hand-to-hand fight of the war ensued. We captured Gen. Bushrod Johnson and his entire division, including twenty-two pieces of artillery and seventeen stands of colors.

The woods were so thick that in advancing our lines became broken. When we reached a clearing the only officers in sight were Colonel Rice, Lieutenant Thompson and myself. “Where are the colors?” said Colonel Rice. We could not answer the question. At that moment we saw several hundred rebels running back to their lines. Colonel Rice said, “I see a Massachusetts color and will go after it. You and Lieutenant Thompson try to capture those rebels.” Hastily gathering men from nearly every regiment in the corps we threw forward a skirmish line and captured nearly four hundred prisoners. After turning them over to the provost guard we returned to the line, found the colors, but the colonel was not there, and the rest of the day we fought where we could get a chance. As I was standing behind the works, waiting for something to do, Capt. Harry Hale, who was serving on General Webb’s staff, rode up and said, “We want to get two guns that the rebels have abandoned, which unless we bring them in, will be retaken. Can’t you get them?” Calling to the mob (there was no organization of regiments at that moment), “Come on, boys,” we rushed out and brought them in. Turning them on the rebels, we loaded them with everything we could find,—ammunition that did not fit, old musket barrels, etc.,—but not knowing how to work the guns we were in about as much danger as the rebels.

While engaged here the rebels had recaptured a small part of their works on our right, and we were ordered to move to that point. Collecting as many men of the regiment as we could find, we marched by the flank to what has since been known as the “Bloody Angle;” here we found hot work. While we were firing the rebels ran up a white flag, and we advanced to receive their surrender, but as soon as we were over the brow of the little hill that had protected us, they fired a volley, killing several of our men. From that time until dark the cry was “No quarter.” Part of the time we were on one side of the works and they on the other, each trying to fire over. I saw Ed. Fletcher of Company C shoot a man who was trying to get a shot at one of our boys, and was so near that Fletcher’s musket was covered with blood. We continued to fire until our ammunition was exhausted, then were relieved by men of the 6th corps. Just as long as we could see a man the firing continued. We slept on the field, ready to renew the battle in the morning, and at daylight waited for the rebels to open. Not a shot was fired and we advanced. What a sight met our eyes as we went over the works! Rebels lay four and five deep in the trenches. Many were alive but unable to move, as the dead were piled on top of them. Our better natures were aroused. We laid out the dead for burial, cared for the wounded, then withdrew to the rear to reorganize our regiments.

While resting in the rear a man from the 6th corps came to me and said, “Is this the 19th Massachusetts?” I answered, “Yes.” “Have you a Lieutenant Adams in your regiment?” I again made the same reply. “Well, he is dead. He lies just over the little hill. Here is his revolver case that I took from him.” I then understood what he meant. A few days before, finding that it was impossible to carry my revolver on account of my wounds, I had given it to Lieut. Johnnie Ferris, and he must have been the one whom the man had found. We had been fighting so hard that we had no time to think of each other, and I then remembered that I had not seen Ferris since we charged on the morning of the previous day. I went with the man and found Johnnie, shot through the head, in front of the rebel works. He had fallen over a tree that the rebels had cut down, and must have been killed as we rushed through the abatis. His death was a severe loss to the regiment. He had been promoted from the ranks for good conduct; was loved by the officers and worshipped by the men. With sad hearts we laid him to rest near where he fell. We could not find Colonel Rice and feared he must be dead on the field, but after searching and not finding his body, concluded he must have been captured with some of our men when the rebels made the dash on our right flank. This was true. Colonel Rice was captured, but escaped, and rejoined the regiment in August.

One little incident occurring in the fight at the “Bloody Angle,” although not connected with the regiment, is worthy of mention. When we were relieved by the 6th corps the 6th Wisconsin was in our front. One of their men was an Indian. He would crawl up near the rebel line, wait until they fired, then fire and drag himself back. He could hardly be seen above the ground. I became much interested in his mode of fighting, and his face was impressed upon my mind. One day in 1867, while working in a shoe factory at Lynn, an Indian came into the place selling baskets. The moment I saw him I thought his countenance was familiar and wondered where I had seen him before. It came to me that he was the Spottsylvania Indian. I asked if he was in the army, and he replied, “Yes, 6th Wisconsin.” Then I was sure he was the man. We talked over the battle and became good friends. He was a very bright fellow, a member of the Masonic brotherhood, but he said, “East no place for Indian,” and I assisted him to return west.

We were under fire nearly all the time, marching from right to left, and on the 17th occupied the works taken on the 12th. While here we learned that Lieut. Moses Shackley, who was a first sergeant in the 59th Massachusetts, had been killed the day before. The 18th we fought all day, charged twice on the enemies’ works, and lost several men. On the 21st occurred one of the sad events of the year.

John D. Starbird of Company K was one of the three deserters who returned with the regiment. The charges against him had been placed on file on condition that he serve faithfully to the end of the war. While he had promised to do this, he did not intend to, and was only kept in battle at the Wilderness by fear of death from the officers. On the 18th he deserted while under fire, was captured the 19th, tried by drum-head court-martial the 20th, and ordered to be shot at 7 a.m. on the 21st. Early in the morning of that day Adjutant Curtis came to me and said, “Jack, you are detailed to take charge of the shooting of Starbird.” I was not pleased with the order, and Captain Mumford, who was ever ready to do a kind act for a friend, exchanged duty with me, I going on picket for him. The detail consisted of eight men from our regiment. Their muskets were loaded by Captain Mumford, seven with ball cartridges, one with a blank. Starbird was seated on his coffin, blindfolded. The order was given to fire. Six shots struck him near the heart; the other musket hung fire, and the ball entered his leg. He died at once.

Those who read this, and do not understand the situation at the time, may think the killing of Starbird unjust and cruel, but it was not. At that time there were in the ranks of every regiment, men who had no interest in the cause. They had enlisted for the bounty, and did not intend to render any service. They not only shirked duty, but their acts and conversation were demoralizing good men. The shooting of Starbird changed all this. Men who had straggled and kept out of battle now were in the ranks, and the result to our corps alone was as good as if we had been re-enforced by a full regiment.