The History of the Twenty-ninth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry / in the Late War of the Rebellion

by William H. Osborne

On the night of the 18th of July, a party composed of Major Rawlins, an officer of a Pennsylvania regiment, a Mr. Shurtleff, an artist, Major Halliday, Captain Jenkins, and two others, started from the vicinity of Fortress Monroe, and proceeded some eight miles toward Yorktown. This foolish adventure had a very sad termination, for while the party were picking their way along the dark forest road, they were fired upon by a body of the enemy, who lay concealed. Major Rawlins was killed, Jenkins and Shurtleff were captured, while Halliday and the rest of the party, by a hasty flight, managed to escape. This sad affair tended to check these ill-advised excursions, and to teach all who had a passion for reckless adventure a timely lesson.

The five companies under Barnes remained in Hampton, after the departure of the Fourth Regiment, until about July 30, when they were ordered back to the fort, and garrisoned a redoubt that during the summer had been erected just outside the water battery of the fortress, on the sand-beach. The Battalion remained here till August 5, when it was ordered by General Butler to take post at Camp Hamilton, about one mile distant from the fortress, and in the direction of Hampton. The number of troops in the department had been materially decreased since the battle of Bull Run, and it was doubtless considered imprudent for a small force to occupy Hampton, and accordingly the troops had all been drawn in from the town, and were now stationed at Camp Hamilton.

For several days there had been indications of an advance by the enemy in the direction of the town. Deserters and others who came into our lines reported that such a movement was in progress; but it was not till the 7th of August that these stories were confirmed. On that day, it became evident to all that the enemy in force were actually moving forward, and apparently directly towards Hampton. The purpose of this movement at this time could not be understood by our officers. Our troops were not occupying Hampton, and the small force at Camp Hamilton could, if necessary, be easily retired into the fortress; besides, the enemy could not expect to be able to occupy and hold either Hampton or Camp Hamilton, under the guns of the fort and our fleet. It was therefore thought that the movement towards the town was a ruse, and that the real attack would be made on the camp at Newport News. At sundown of the 7th, the position of affairs remained unchanged. One thing was clear: the enemy was advancing, and rapidly approaching Hampton. To guard against surprise, General Butler had directed that a number of transports be held in readiness to convey troops up the James, to Newport News, if necessary, and the reserve commands were ordered to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice.

Besides the five companies of our Massachusetts Battalion, there were stationed at Camp Hamilton, Col. Max Weber’s Twentieth New York Regiment and a portion of the Naval Brigade (Ninety-ninth New York Regiment).[18] A strong picket-line was posted on the bank of Hampton Creek; and at the bridge, which had been partially destroyed, was stationed a guard from the Battalion under Lieutenant Mayo of Company E. In the evening, General Butler visited the camp, for the purpose of ascertaining any new developments. All was quiet, no sound came from the pickets, and the town was silent. The General, after imparting to the several battalion commanders such information and directions as he deemed essential, returned to the fort. The night was black, and the wind blew freshly from the south. At about nine o’clock, our pickets were suddenly startled by the shouting of the negroes (who still remained in the village), and presently the regular tramp of marching soldiers was heard by our men. Then appeared two long rows of torches, lighting up the dark, narrow ways and the windows of the deserted houses. Suddenly the column halted, and the flaming torches were seen dancing about wildly in all directions, like so many will-o’-the-wisps. And now the quiet of the night was broken by loud yells, the houses were entered and fired, and soon the whole town was enveloped in flames, casting a bright light over the bay, and revealing to our soldiers the forms of the enemy as they moved about the streets. Our Massachusetts men at the bridge soon began to fire, and the sharp crack of rifles was added to the roar of the flames. The fire of our soldiers became very galling to the enemy, and he sought to dislodge them, making a bold dash for the bridge, at the head of which stood our men, behind a hastily-constructed barricade. The bridge was long and narrow, and the enemy came on at a quick run. They had advanced but a short distance, when a sharp fire from our lines drove them back with some loss. Several other, though feeble, attempts were made to drive our men from the bridge; but each attempt signally failed, and the picket-firing was kept up at intervals throughout the night.

That was indeed a memorable night in the history of the Battalion. The loud roar of the flames, the cries of the terrified negroes as they were being driven from their huts by the enemy and marched off under guard into their lines, all combined to make up a wild scene the terror of which was not a little heightened by the presence of our gunboats in the Roads, which kept up a vigorous bombardment of the fields and woods about the town, and occasionally threw a huge shell into the burning village, scattering the fragments of the buildings, and carrying consternation to the enemy.

There were not lacking acts of brutality on the part of those who were guilty of this wicked deed. Living in the village were an old white gentleman and his aged wife, who had many times befriended the Union troops, and whose son was a major in that portion of the Confederate army that destroyed the town. This major led the burning party which fired the place; but not satisfied with this work, he must needs visit upon his parents, whom he suspected of harboring sentiments of loyalty to the old flag, an act of vengeance as cowardly as it was revolting. Going in the darkness to their house, which was on the outskirts of the village, in harsh tones he ordered them to leave it in fifteen minutes, or, to use his own language, “I’ll burn it over your heads.” These aged persons, having on scarcely any clothing save their night-garments, rushed out into the gloom of that awful night. The son, now filled with frenzy, heedless of the cries and supplications of his parents, applied the torch with his own hand to the home that had sheltered him in youth. In the light of their burning dwelling, the horror-stricken pair hastened to the river, and jumping into a small skiff, gained the Union camp.[19]

From sundown of the 7th till late into the forenoon of the following day, the Battalion remained in position on the easterly side of the creek, picketing its banks, closely watching the town, and successfully resisting every attempt of the enemy to cross over. Quite early in the morning of the 8th, the Confederates withdrew, driving before them a horde of panic-stricken negroes, and carrying away a considerable number of their own killed and wounded.

The result of that night’s insane work was the burning of nearly five hundred buildings, and the destruction of property to the value of many thousands of dollars; and the only reason ever assigned for this piece of vandalism, was, that the town might not furnish winter cantonments for the Federal troops. But the burning of the village inflicted no material injury upon the Federals; it rather relieved them of the grave responsibility of guarding it, and protecting from plunder the many articles of great value left there by its former occupants. Hampton, which was settled in 1705, contained at the time of its evacuation in May, 1861, a population of about 1,500 souls, and was one of the finest towns in the Old Dominion. A creek, called Hampton Creek, spanned by the long wooden bridge before mentioned, divided the town unequally, the village proper being on the westerly bank, and containing about five hundred buildings, among them several churches, one an ancient brick structure, ivy-clad, in the burial-yard of which were the graves of several distinguished Virginians. In the belfry of this church (one of the oldest in the State) hung a bell cast in England, and connected with it were many historic associations. In the war of the Revolution, and again in 1812, it had been desecrated by British soldiers and sailors. “It ought to have been spared,” says a writer, “as a venerable and sacred relic”; but all its worth and antiquity were not proof against the barbarity that consigned it to ruin.

On the Fortress Monroe side of the creek were many fine buildings and elegant private residences, all of which were spared, through the efforts of our men. Near the fort was the Chesapeake Female Seminary, and nearer the village was the residence of ex-President Tyler, the once honored owner of which deserted it at the time of the general exodus of the people; but as a token of his sympathy with the cause of the insurgents, left the “Stars and Bars” flying from the roof. These, however, were taken down soon after by the stalwart standard-bearer of the Fifth New York Regiment, who put in their place the “Stars and Stripes,” an emblem far more fit to float over the home of one who had held the highest office in the gift of the people.

The day previous to the burning of Hampton (Aug. 6), a party of the Battalion, consisting of Lieutenant Oliver, Sergeant Atwood, a corporal, and sixteen men, were detailed to embark on board of a small steamer, for the purpose of cruising on the “Eastern Shore,” so called, to board all crafts of a suspicious character. The men took with them one week’s rations, but were absent ten days, and for the last few days, subsisted mainly on sea-crabs. They met with several exciting incidents, and returned to camp in a half-famished condition. On the 18th of August, Captain Barnes was ordered by General Butler to proceed to Newport News with the five companies of the Battalion under his immediate command, but Captains Leach’s and Wilson’s companies were retained at the Rip-Raps till November.