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

by William H. Osborne

When night came, the Twenty-ninth regiment still lay at the front, in the corn. They were on the skirmish line, and under such a constant fire from the enemy, that it was impossible to relieve them. During all the long hours of the darkness that followed, the men lay upon the ground, listening to the piteous moans and cries for help of the wounded soldiers of the enemy, who were lying about the field between the two lines, and could not be removed nor reached with safety. These sad sounds were occasionally drowned by the crash of musketry and the dismal hissing of bullets. In this manner the night was passed by our soldiers at the front; and the day which succeeded was scarcely less distressing in its experiences.

Although the battle was not renewed on the 18th, yet the two armies lay facing each other during the whole day and a part of the following night. Before light on the morning of the 18th, Company F, under Captain Tripp, which had been on the advanced line in the corn-field since noon of the 17th, where they had been terribly exposed, was relieved by Company C, under First Lieutenant N. D. Whitman, and Company K, under Captain Pray. Even in the darkness, the work of relieving the men at the front was attended with great risk. The two lines were less than one hundred yards apart; the enemy were intensely savage, and kept up a random but almost incessant firing. When the daylight came, matters were much worse; for, beside being more exposed to the fire from the orchard, our men suffered greatly from the heat of the sun, which poured down on their backs, being obliged to lie upon their faces between the rows of corn.

A large number of wounded Confederates were still scattered through the corn-field, some of them only a few yards distant from our pickets. The constant cries of these poor fellows, who were begging our men to remove them and give them water, excited the sympathy of our soldiers, and many brave, and even reckless, efforts were made during the day to relieve their sufferings. One soldier of Company C[37] crawled on his hands and knees a distance of several yards toward the Confederate lines, in order to give a wounded enemy a drink of water from his canteen, the bullets of the Confederate sharpshooters striking close about him, and covering him with dust.

Another of these humane undertakings gave birth to an occurrence much talked of among our soldiers at the time, and which resulted in a temporary suspension of hostilities. Of the several versions given of this affair, the author chooses the following as being probably the most correct: Near the lines of the Fifth New Hampshire (in the corn-field), was lying a wounded Confederate officer. He was suffering greatly, and had been beseeching Colonel Cross’s men to take him into our lines. At last, Colonel Cross, moved deeply by these appeals, procured a canvas stretcher, and with the assistance of some of his men, went to the officer’s aid. Creeping stealthily along the ground, they neared the spot where the man lay, and pushed the stretcher under him. In doing so, a portion of the white canvas appeared above the tops of the corn. The enemy in the orchard observing it, immediately—and, doubtless, only too gladly—took it for a flag of truce, and at once ceased firing. After a little delay, General Pryor(?) of the Confederate army appeared, bearing a white flag, and General Meagher was ordered to meet him and ascertain his wishes. When the two officers met, each demanded of the other to know why the flag of truce had been raised, and each insisting that the flag had not been raised by their side, a somewhat heated conversation followed, when the two officers parted, and the firing immediately recommenced, Colonel Cross taking advantage of the lull to remove the wounded officer from the corn-field and convey him safely into our lines, where he was kindly treated and his wounds dressed.

During the night of the 18th, the enemy withdrew, but, as is well known, no movement took place during the following day. On the 19th, the last sad duties in connection with the battle were performed by our soldiers; namely, the burial of the dead. The Twenty-ninth was chiefly employed in this work during a greater part of the day, the part of the field assigned to them being the corn-field, sunken road, and orchard. Here the dead of the enemy (our own having been removed during the battle) were very numerous, and in the first stages of decomposition. Many of them had been lying on the field under the scorching rays of the sun for nearly forty-eight hours, and were swollen and black, and emitted a disgusting odor, fairly sickening our burial-party, who dug long trenches three feet deep, in which the dead were placed and covered with earth, as decently as circumstances would allow. In some places, as many as twenty-five bodies were found in a heap; in others, as many as seventy-five mangled and blackened victims were found lying only a few feet apart.

The trees in the orchard showed plainly the fierceness of the strife, which for two days and two nights had raged there with hardly a moment’s cessation. The trunks of the trees were literally filled with bullets, and the bark on the exposed sides wholly stripped off to a height of from six to ten feet from the ground.

The wounded of the Twenty-ninth had all been conveyed to a brick house and barn a short distance to the rear, where their more fortunate comrades paid them frequent visits during the 19th, cheering them with kind words, exchanging accounts of the battle, and rendering numerous little services. The dead of the regiment had been carefully buried on the field, and, where practicable, their honored graves were marked.

The numerous praises bestowed upon the regiment for its valuable services in this battle were highly flattering to both officers and men. General Meagher sent a request to Colonel Barnes to visit him at his tent a few days after the battle, and in the most pleasing manner expressed his high appreciation of the conduct of the Twenty-ninth. As the praise bestowed upon the Brigade is justly shared by the regiment, the author deems it but justice to his comrades to quote in this connection the words of General McClellan. In his report of the battle, that officer makes use of the following language:—

“Meagher’s brigade, advancing steadily, soon became engaged with the enemy, posted to the left and in front of Roulette’s house. It continued to advance, under heavy fire, nearly to the crest of the hill overlooking Piper’s house, the enemy being posted in a continuation of the sunken road and corn-field before referred to. Here the brave Irish Brigade opened upon the enemy a terrific musketry fire.... The Irish Brigade sustained its well-earned reputation. After suffering terribly, both in officers and men, and strewing the ground with their enemies as they drove them back, their ammunition nearly expended, and their commander, General Meagher, disabled by the fall of his horse, shot under him, this brigade was ordered to give place to General Caldwell’s brigade, which advanced to a short distance in its rear. The lines were passed by the Irish Brigade breaking company to the rear, and General Caldwell’s by company to the front, as steadily as on drill!”

Honorable mention of the Brigade is made in two other places in the report of General McClellan.