The "Twenty-Seventh": A Regimental History

by Winthrop Dudley Sheldon

Our huts were now nearly completed, and with no little satisfaction we surveyed their rough architecture, pork-barrel chimneys, and cracker-box doors, feeling that though the winds might blow, and the rainy season pour down its floods, we were prepared to endure it patiently. When the army has just completed its preparations for a comfortable time, it is safe to prophesy marching orders within three days thereafter. So it proved in the present instance. At dress parade, on the sixteenth of January, an order was read for the regiment to be ready to march on the next day with three days’ rations. Details were dispatched at midnight to the Brigade Commissary’s, after rations, and in good season on the seventeenth we were ready to start; but no final orders came, and it was bruited about that General J. E. B. Stuart, while roving around Dumfries and Alexandria with his rebel cavalry, in the absence of General Burnside in Washington, had telegraphed an order, as if from him, for the army to be ready to move. This is of a piece with a joke Stuart perpetrated on another occasion, when in the name of a Union General he telegraphed to Washington for certain stores, and is reported to have received them in good order.

On the eighteenth, Generals Burnside and Sumner reviewed our Army Corps. In the afternoon of the twentieth, an order was read, announcing that the army was “about to meet the enemy once more. The auspicious moment had arrived to strike a great and mortal blow at the rebellion, and to gain that decisive victory due to the country.” The plan was for Hooker and Franklin to cross at Banks’s Ford, six miles above Falmouth, and capture Taylor’s Hill, the key of the position, from which they could advance in the rear of Fredericksburg, and turn the enemy’s flank. This being done, Sumner with his grand division, to which the Twenty-seventh belonged, was to cross directly in front of the city at the old place, and take the batteries which had baffled our efforts in the battle of December thirteenth. The plan was substantially the same as the previous one, except that the flank movement was to be made upon the rebel left wing instead of his right. The failure of December resulted from the inefficiency of Franklin’s flank demonstration, which allowed the enemy to mass his forces in front of Sumner. But now it was proposed to use two corps in the preliminary movement, and, provided they were successful in taking Taylor’s Hill, Sumner’s success would be assured, notwithstanding the rebels had been engaged for a month previous in strengthening and extending their works. Hooker and Franklin were in motion on the twentieth, while impetuous Sumner waited in his camps to hear the signal which should summon his veteran legions to the conflict. For several days, artillery and pontoons had been passing camp en route for Banks’s Ford. If the weather continues favorable, the morrow will bring to our ears the boom of a hundred and fifty cannon.

But one of those strange events beyond man’s power to avert disconcerts the whole plan. Instead of the roar of artillery, the unwelcome sound of rain salutes our ears the next morning, and continues for several days. Impassable roads, guns and pontoons fast in the mud, men toiling slowly along, or pulling at the boats, add a new page to the chapter of misfortune which had followed the noble Army of the Potomac. The rebels briefly summed up this last advance in these laconic words, “Burnside stuck in the mud!” which they impudently displayed from their picket-line, derisively inquiring when the “auspicious moment” would arrive. The rainy season had now set in in good earnest, and the wearied troops returned to their camps to await the advent of spring.

The progress of events had already foreshadowed a change of commanders, and on the twenty-ninth of January general orders were read announcing that General Burnside had been relieved, and the accession of Joe Hooker. The brief two months of Burnside’s command had secured for him the sincere respect of the whole army. His honesty of purpose could not be impeached, and none felt more keenly than himself the ill success which had attended him. History, in summing up his campaign, will assign no small significance to the fact that Burnside did not receive the hearty coöperation of his subordinate commanders. He possessed an excessive self-distrust, and it was creditable to his candor to confess it; yet it is a question whether this distrust did not reäct unfavorably upon the officers and men of his command. Condemn it as we may, the boastful self-confidence of Hooker had no little influence in reïnspiring the army with that self-reliance which forms an important item in the calculations of success.

The advent of General Hooker was signalized by the abolition of the grand divisions, and a return to the simpler organization of Corps d’Armée. And what was of more consequence to the soldiers, an order was published directing the issue of four rations of fresh bread and fresh beef, and two rations of potatoes per week, with an occasional supply of other vegetables. This measure went right to the hearts of the army, for it must be confessed, and it is nothing to their disgrace, that the hearts of soldiers are very near, if not actually in, their stomachs. For an army is a great physical machine, expending a vast amount of animal power, and requiring careful attention to its animal wants to secure the highest moral efficiency.

From the battle of Fredericksburg to Hooker’s move in the spring of 1863, the Twenty-seventh was engaged in picket duty along the Rappahannock, whose banks are as familiar to the men almost as the walks of childhood. Every other day, at seven in the morning, our quota of the division picket, equipped with blankets and one day’s rations, formed in front of the Colonel’s tent, and, after inspection, marched a mile to General Hancock’s headquarters to undergo another inspection, after which a march of two or three miles brought them to the line of the river. The fact that three fourths of the time it was either rainy, or snowing, or cold and blustering, will give some idea of the arduous character of picket duty. By mutual agreement, the custom of picket firing, so annoying and useless, was discontinued, and friendly intercourse was no uncommon event; which latter practice, though harmless in itself, was yet so liable to make trouble that it was prohibited by special order. Frequently the rebels launched out on the river their diminutive craft, laden with tobacco and the latest Richmond papers, and bearing a note to “Gentlemen of the United States,” requesting an interchange of commodities.

February twenty-second, we experienced the severest snow-storm of the season. At noon, through the thick mist of snow-flakes, came the deep boom of cannon, swelling into a loud chorus, from the adjacent batteries, answered by the low, muffled murmur of the distant discharge. In every direction salutes were being fired in honor of Washington’s birthday. The time and place gave additional interest to this demonstration of respect for the Father of his Country, for this region is intimately connected with his history. Here he lived, and here are his descendants to this day, while on the other side of the Rappahannock a simple tomb marks his mother’s resting-place.

March fifth, General Hooker reviewed the Second Army Corps, on a large plain, near Hancock’s headquarters. The corps was drawn up in nine lines by brigade, in all nearly fifteen thousand men. General Hooker and General Couch, the then corps commander, with their brilliant and numerous staffs, rode rapidly up and down the several lines, while the men presented arms. Then taking position in front, the brigades marched by in column by company. Nothing was more impressive than the sight of the many regiments reduced to a mere fragment of their former strength—a silently eloquent commentary upon the inscriptions on their banners.

The rapid advance of spring, and Hooker’s known determination to move on the enemy at the earliest possible moment, led to much speculation as to the plan of the new campaign. Before the close of March, intimations were thrown out that the army must expect soon to take the field. Daily balloon ascensions were made at several points on the river, in order to ascertain the position of the rebels. As an illustration of “Fighting Joe’s” cool assurance, it was currently reported that one day he sent his balloon directly over the city of Fredericksburg, having previously notified the commandant that any molestation would meet with condign punishment from his batteries. The comparative nearness of our camp to the river afforded good opportunities for observing any change on the rebel side, and the probability that we should have to cross in front of the city in any future movement, whetted our curiosity. The rebels had been actively engaged all winter in strengthening their position, and now dark lines of rifle-pits and earthworks frowned from the bluffs for miles up and down the banks, commanding every available crossing. As may well be imagined, the prospect was by no means inviting.