THE REPUBLICAN

November 11, 1881

 

IN THE FIELD

How a Soldier Thanks, Acts and Feels

in His First Fight

 

            Sergeant William Gardiner in the Providence Star:  About this time (1:30 p.m.), a column of our infantry – I should think there were two regiments, although there might have been a brigade – moved by the Orange Courthouse wagon road into the forest at our right, and something near a quarter of a mile from us.  In our front, a mile distant, we discovered a rising cloud of dust, which was sure evidence that the enemy was advancing in large force.  Stonewall Jackson was advancing his corps.  The situation was becoming intensely interesting.  Meantime we discovered rebel sharpshooters creeping under cover of knolls and shrubbery to a haystack near the base of the mountain at our left to pick us off.  We did not waste our ammunition upon them, for they were not within range of our Burnside carbines.  A few shots were fired from the vicinity of the haystack at the skirmishers of the First Maine and Jersey regiments.

            About 3 o’clock we heard a movement in the woods at our right and the commands, “Halt!” and “Count off!” and thinking it to be our infantry experienced no uneasiness, but we were startled to hear the command, “Ready – aim – fire!” and by the storm of bullets that immediately ensued, which we did not find near as agreeable music as would be made by an equal number of bumble-bees about our ears.  “Steady, men – right face!” came the order from our major (P. M. Farrington), which faced us towards the forest and the enemy.  At this moment the recall sounded for us to fall back to the regiment, and we moved under a terrible fire, along the margin of the woods, discharging our carbines toward our unseen enemies, falling back slowly, in good order, to the regiment, and forming upon its left, facing the woods.  Oh! But didn’t it rain lead!  We could do nothing more than stand and take it, without the power to retaliate.  We could not charge, the forest was so dense.  The enemy fired high, or else we should have been fearfully slaughtered.  One of Gen. Bank’s or Bayard’s aides rode up with an order to our colonel to move the regiment back to a depression in the field in front of our batteries.  The retrogade movement was made by battalions; that is, the first battalion stood firm, the second and third making a left about wheel and moving to the rear a few yards, when the second would wheel facing the enemy, and the first, nearest the enemy, would retire, and the movement was so continued until the desired position was reached.

At the beginning of the movement the enemy opened all of his batteries upon us, and the storm of bullets, shot and shell upon, into and near us, was such as none of us can ever forget.  It was a hot box, I can assure you.  One of our battalions made its movement a little too hurriedly to suit our veteran colonel, and he bade them “Halt!” in a tone none other could assume, and wheeled them toward the enemy again, and held them for a moment, and lectured them for making such haste.  This movement, made in full view of army line of battle, with such apparent coolness under a terrible fire, had a strong moral effect upon all that witnessed it, and commanded and received due admiration.

The enemy’s infantry now advanced from the forest, along line, and from our position in front of our batteries we had an unobscured view of them and the “stars and bars,” but recently adopted, their regiments previously having carried state flags.  They advanced bravely, with confidence, knowing that they outnumbered us three to one, our batteries sending them canister with such deadly effect as to cause disheartening gaps in their ranks; but they would close up and advance and approach us so near that we could see the whites of their eyes, but the guns wrought such terrible havoc in their ranks that it was too much for mortals to stand and they would fall back hurriedly to the forest.  Three times did they emerge from the woods to chare our batteries and each time were driven back by our guns.  They were made of good stuff, and their commander, Jackson, was as good a soldier as ever wore a general’s stars.

No language that I can command, or any other person, for that matter, can describe the sights and sounds of such a terrible battle.  One must have been engaged in such a conflict, and have experienced all the emotions and sensations to understand fully what a test it is for human nerves.  While stationed in this depression of the plain or valley, tons of solid shot, shell and bullets passed over our heads from our own and the enemy’s lines, standing as we did between them.

Our regiment had done all that could be done.  We had drawn the enemy from his position on the mountain into the plain, and we were now in the way of our infantry, who were advancing to grapple with the enemy, and we were ordered by Gen. Banks to retire to the rear and await orders, which we did under the same terrible fire.  But coming from the friendly shelter of the hollow, we were again exposed, but moved as calmly as if upon parade our infantry cheering as they passed us on their way to “see Stonewall” in their front.

Upon our way to the rear we met Gen. Pope, and McDowell with his corps, hurrying to the support of Gen. Banks, who had, with 8000 men, and now was, contending with three corps, numbering 25,000, the flower of Lee’s army, under such generals as Thomas (Stonewall) Jackson, Ambrose P. Hill and Richard S. Ewell.

We halted in close vicinity to the field, many of the enemy’s shot and shell passing over us, and dismounting, listened to the music of the battle, which was now being waged with fearful earnestness.  The battle continued until 11 o’clock by moonlight, when both sides, as if by mutual consent, paused for rest.  At early dawn the enemy fell back across the Rapidan River, leaving many of their dead unburied and claimed a victory.