History of the Sixteenth Connecticut Volunteers.

by B. F. Blakeslee.

INTRODUCTION.

It is to be regretted that a complete history of the 16th Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers, has not been written. At this late day it would require much time, labor, and expense, to prepare one, and probably will never be done. Many volumes might be written which would be of inestimable value hereafter. Their services in the War for the Union cannot be placed upon a few pages. This volume is but a mere outline history, mostly compiled from diaries written by me at a young age, the importance of which was not then comprehended; with no expectation of the future use they would be put to,--but little was written, and that mostly concerned myself. It is the object of this work to create a permanent record of some of the marches, battles, and experiences generally of the organization above mentioned. This undertaking is made in behalf of the surviving members of the regiment, to whom it is hoped the work will prove of some value as a book of reference. The hope is also expressed that this work may prove a not unwelcome though sad memorial to the friends of those members of the regiment who lost their lives in battle or prison. The author is unaccustomed to historical composition, and makes no boast of literary education.

CHAPTER I.

1862.

CAMP WILLIAMS TO ANTIETAM.

The regiment was recruited in Hartford county, and its services were tendered to the National Government in response to the President's call for three hundred thousand volunteers for three years. It was almost entirely made up of men in the county, and of excellent material,--some of the oldest and best families were represented in its ranks; and comprised many of the finest young men whom the commonwealth ever sent to uphold its honor in the field.

It was organized during the month of August, 1862, under the command of Colonel Frank Beach, of the regular army. The month of August was a severe shock to most of the men, even those of a strong const.i.tution.

It was a complete revolution in their method of life. Many of the men were accustomed to all the refinements of wealth, and all of them had been reared in abundance. The outdoor life, though not hard as yet, was too great for those that had led the quiet and easy life of a citizen, and a few of our n.o.ble men who had offered themselves to the government were unable to endure the hardships, and died before the regiment left Hartford.

On Sunday, August 24th, 1862, the regiment, numbering ten hundred and ten men, was duly mustered into the United States service by Lieut.

Watson Webb, of the regular army.

On the 28th, the regiment having been fully clothed and equipped, (except muskets,) as army regulations required, they were carefully reviewed and inspected in the company streets by the Colonel. It was a very hot day, and many of the men fainted under their load. This experience taught a lesson; we then saw that it was impossible to carry such loads; many of the men having from thirty to fifty pounds packed in their knapsacks. Immediately after inspection the men unpacked and threw away a great many articles which at first seemed impossible to get along without; but even then we were too heavily loaded, as we found out the next day.

The forenoon of the following day was a busy time with the Sixteenth; bed-ticks were emptied, knapsacks packed, blankets rolled, and three days rations placed in the haversacks.

Early in the day the relatives and friends of the soldiers commenced to arrive from the country, and before the regiment left, the city was full of visitors. At noon tents were struck, and we were drawn up in line, a thousand strong. The march of the regiment through the city was a perfect ovation. The dock and river banks were thronged with dear friends whom ties had bound together for years. The Governor and a portion of his staff marched at the head of the regiment. Six companies embarked on the "City of Hartford," and four companies on the "Geo. C. Collins," leaving the dock at three o'clock, amid the cheers of thousands of spectators. A pleasant sail down the river, pa.s.sing the night as best we could on crowded boats, we reached New York in good season the next morning. We were here transferred to the steamer "Kill von Kull," and a breakfast of vegetable soup and coffee was dealt out. The steamer took us to Elizabeth, N.J., where we went aboard cars and proceeded to Baltimore via Harrisburg, arriving at Baltimore the next day at nine o'clock. There the "Union Relief a.s.sociation," gave us a most excellent breakfast. While we were waiting there in the depot for a fresh train for Washington, the report was received that Stonewall Jackson had been captured. We cheered and shouted, laughed and danced, rejoiced and gave thanks in the same breath, and did every thing except to keep still.

We have never forgiven ourselves for that day's folly, and never shall. Stonewall Jackson had not been captured, as we had good reason to understand two weeks afterward.

In the afternoon we went aboard a miserable, dirty train and proceeded to Washington, arriving there late in the evening in a drizzling rain.

We went into barracks for the night. Early in the morning the men visited the Capitol and other places of interest. At nine o'clock the regiment fell into line and for the first time we were "on the march."

Pa.s.sing through the city we made direct for Long Bridge, where we had a long rest; while resting General McClellan came across from the Virginia side. In crossing Long Bridge we received a startling ill.u.s.tration of war,--meeting a line of ambulances a mile in length, bringing dead and dying from the battlefield of second Bull Run. The regiment marched to Fort Ward, a distance of five or six miles from Washington. That night it rained terribly, and the tents not having come up, we were compelled to sit in the rain all night; this we thought soldiering with a vengeance. The next day was spent in drying our blankets and clothing in the sun. During the week we had little or no drill, and but few instructions in marching. On Sat.u.r.day we received orders to be ready to march in light marching order. The next morning (Sunday, Sept. 7th,) we had the regular army Sunday Inspection with arms. At noon we took up our line of march, and went directly back to Washington, arriving there at sunset; this was a terrible march for us, being very hot and so dusty that we could barely see the second file ahead. Halting in Seventh street, we had a long rest where we ate supper, filled canteens, and flirted with girls in the windows.

Resuming the march we started to join the Army of the Potomac, which was several miles beyond, and heading towards Frederick City, Maryland. At nine and a half P.M. we halted for the night, having made nineteen miles since one P.M. This was good marching for new troops, and showed what we would be equal to when necessity required. The regiment encamped for the night in the woods, but when we came to lie down on the ground with little or no covering it seemed rather tough.

Having been ordered to move in light marching order, we left our knapsacks in Virginia, and therefore the men had only a blanket or an overcoat, whichever in their judgment would be the most useful. The next morning at an early hour we proceeded to Leesboro, a distance of three miles, and a report being among the men that we were out of rations, Colonel Beach refused to go further until we had some. The men commenced to forage on a small scale.

September 9th the Baltimore papers gave us the startling news that the rebels had occupied Frederick City, and were invading Pennsylvania.

During the day some shelter-tents were issued, which were gladly welcomed, as we had lain on the ground without any shelter for eight nights. On the evening of the 10th some rations came, and the cooks went to work and cooked during the night three days rations. In the meantime the men lived on the farmers near by.

The next day we started "on the march" at seven and a half A.M., marching steadily until three P.M., when we halted, being about a mile and a half from Brookville, and having made fourteen miles.

September 12th we commenced marching at seven A.M. and marched to Mount Lebanon, a distance of fourteen miles. It was an extremely hot day.

Sat.u.r.day, September 13th, we learned that General Burnside had driven the rebels out of Frederick City; commenced marching at eight A.M. We pa.s.sed through Damascus, Monrovia, and New Market, and encamped just outside of the town, and near New Market street. We heard the booming of artillery ahead all day. The next morning (Sunday the 14th) we broke up camp in a hurry, and marched rapidly towards Frederick City, reaching there at noon. Just before entering the city we pa.s.sed quite a large squad of rebel prisoners. These were the first rebels that we had seen, and they attracted considerable attention from us. We encamped in a small vacant lot on the east side of the city, and during the afternoon most of the regiment were around the city without leave, hunting up something to eat, most of whom got good square meals from the citizens at a cheap price, averaging twenty-five cents per man. The rebels had been driven out of the city by General Burnside only twelve hours before, and the union citizens were in high spirits; nearly every house had the red, white, and blue in some shape thrown to the breeze to testify to its loyalty to the United States.

Monday, September 15th. The regiment commenced to march quite early in the morning, and pa.s.sed through Fairfield and Middletown. We could here begin to form some idea of that great army, the "Army of the Potomac," and the fearful destruction that an army can make. The road was completely blocked up with army wagons and ambulances. The road was narrow over the mountain, and terribly dusty. The ambulances were filled with the wounded, and rebel prisoners under guard were trying to go to the rear. Infantry, baggage wagons, provision and ammunition trains, were eagerly pushing to the front. The result was a stand-still for over an hour. On both sides of the road, shot and sh.e.l.l had pierced the trees and houses. The fences were riddled with bullets, telegraph poles were down, and the earth was ploughed by solid shot. The dead lay by the road-side, and the ambulances were scouring the mountain sides with men detailed to pick up the wounded.

The churches, houses, and barns were filled with the wounded. Parties were seen in every direction burying the dead. The scenes showed that a fierce battle had been fought the day before, and we began to realize what we must go through when we should join the main army. We marched that day about twelve miles, and encamped for the night on the battle-field of South Mountain. The next day we started on the march at six A.M. and pa.s.sed through Boonsboro, and Keedysville. At Boonsboro, also, the churches, houses, and barns were filled with wounded. At Keedysville, we had a long rest, and it was here that we first saw a "line of battle." Colonel Beach, with his experienced eye, first spied the distant jets of white smoke. All were watching the peculiar puffs of smoke with great interest, when Adjutant Burnham, who had been absent, returned with the order that we were _wanted at the front_. This took us a little by surprise as we did not expect to go into battle so soon. But on went the bundles, and after a tedious march through ploughed fields and forests, pa.s.sing brigades and divisions, the booming of artillery and bursting of sh.e.l.ls sounding louder and louder, we finally joined a brigade consisting of the 4th R.I., and the 8th and 11th C.V.

After resting awhile we loaded our muskets for the first time, and marched over a hill, and into a meadow which lay between two hills.

While getting into this position we could plainly see the rebel gunners load and fire, some of the sh.e.l.ls coming quite near us. At last we were in the great "line of battle" of the "Army of the Potomac," 2d Brigade, 3d Division, 9th Corps, General Burnside, on its extreme left. It was now eight o'clock in the evening, and quite dark; we were within a few rods of the enemy, and orders were given in a whisper; we were ordered to make no noise and to rest on our arms; for thirty minutes the utmost quiet prevailed. A musket was accidentally discharged; in a second the troops were on their feet, with arms at a "ready," and as they stood peering into the darkness ahead you could hear both lines of battle spring to arms for miles.

Occasionally the boom of artillery was heard, and during the night there were repeated alarms, so that the soldiers on either side obtained but little rest. The hostile pickets on one portion of the line were so near each other, that during the night six of the enemy were captured.

CHAPTER II.

1862.

THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.

The next morning dawned beautifully; little did we imagine that that bright sun would be obscured by the smoke of battle, the field we trod ploughed with shot, flow with blood, and planted thick with the dead.

Scarcely had the sun risen when a sh.e.l.l from the enemy dropped not far from our force, which was quietly resting upon their arms near the crest of a low knoll a short distance from the enemy's position.

Immediately another followed, a twelve pounder crashed diagonally through the Eighth Connecticut, killing three men instantly, and wounding four in Company D.

The position was changed for one less exposed, but in getting there the troops were obliged to pa.s.s under a deadly fire from a rebel battery stationed at short range distance. In this undertaking the Sixteenth lost three wounded. We lay here perhaps two hours, and had a good view of the battle on the right, which had by this time a.s.sumed a fearful magnitude. Along the western banks of the Antietam River, there runs, with a gradual rise of undulating ground, a crescent-shaped ridge, presenting its concave side to the river. The top of this ridge spreads out into a broad tableground of forests and ravines. A series of timbered-covered hills surrounded this ridge; some of the adjacent hills had been cleared of the forest, and were covered with orchards and cornfields, enclosed with fences of rails or stone. Behind this ridge runs the road from Hagerstown to Sharpsburg and Shepardstown. Sharpsburg is just in the rear of the ridge.

Along these hills the rebel lines were posted, four miles in extent.

Their position was exceedingly strong, protected by ravines and forests. Every commanding crest bristled with artillery, and the forests were planted thick with infantry. The extreme right of the rebel line was within three-fourths of a mile of the Potomac; in front, and along their left flank, flowed the Antietam, winding through a wooded ravine, with banks too high and with waters too deep to permit a crossing, except at two fords, at some distance from each other. Between these distant fords there were three bridges; on the right, at the center, and on the left. These bridges were strongly guarded. The federal troops were on the east side of the Antietam, behind a low range of hills, lying at the base of the Blue Ridge.

These eminences were generally commanded by the heights held by the rebels. General Lee had certainly chosen a very strong position.

The Eleventh Connecticut now received orders from General Burnside to take the bridge, after the batteries had sh.e.l.led the woods on the other side, and hold it until General Rodman could march his column over. At about nine o'clock the Sixteenth again formed and marched about a mile, first through a corn-field, and finally into a valley where they halted in an orchard. While pa.s.sing through the cornfield the men stripped themselves of blankets, overcoats, and all luggage that would impede the progress of marching or the use of firearms.

After filling our canteens from a brook near by, we marched up a steep hill that seemed almost impossible to surmount, then down on the other side and into Antietam river, which we forded and marched to a side hill. Soon in plain sight could be seen a rebel battery dashing intrepidly forward and planting itself directly in range of the Sixteenth.

By this time the rebel batteries were all roaring. They opened on us in all their fury. The air was filled with bullets and fiendish missiles. Hundreds of cannon were now aimed at us; grape and cannister, marbles and railroad iron were showered down like rain. The crest of the hill was a great protection to the Sixteenth, and only about a dozen were disabled. A battery was ordered up to engage the enemy, but it was whirled back in less than five minutes, losing every officer, seven men, and five horses. To see those men stand there and be shot down till they received orders to retire was a fearful sight.

It was half past three o'clock; the Fourth Rhode Island and the Sixteenth Connecticut were ordered into a cornfield, and they moved forward quite a distance in advance of the army at their right; we here laid down letting the shot and sh.e.l.l pa.s.s over us.

In the meanwhile the Division of A.P. Hill, which had arrived from Harper's Ferry, and joined Lee's army, were coming into this cornfield from the opposite side, un.o.bserved; at the same time Company H, (Captain Barber,) had been thrown out in advance as a vidette to prevent being surprised. At four o'clock McClellan sent orders to Burnside to advance, and carry the batteries in his front at all hazards and at any cost. Burnside's corps was charging. General Rodman observed that the rebels were about to flank us and get in our rear, and ordered the Fourth Rhode Island, and Sixteenth Connecticut to swing to the left that we might face them, but at that particular moment the rustling of cornstalks warned us that the rebels were on us. Colonel Beach gave the order 'Attention!' While this order was being executed a terrible volley was fired into us. Volley after volley in quick succession was hurled into our midst. The Sixteenth sprang up and returned the fire with good effect; some fixed bayonets, advanced, and were captured. The most helpless confusion ensued. Our men fell by scores on every side. Still our position was obstinately maintained, until ordered to fall back. The rebels discovered the disorder, and came on us in heavy column.

While we were falling back to cover near the bridge we were swept by a destructive cross-fire, and the rebels becoming entangled in this cross-fire extricated themselves and fell back to the stone wall. The Eighth, Eleventh, and Sixteenth Connecticut, and the Fourth Rhode Island, re-formed and were placed in position for defence. At this time General Burnside's messenger rode up to McClellan. His message was, "I want troops and guns. If you do not send them I cannot hold my position for half an hour." McClellan said slowly: "Tell General Burnside that this is the battle of the war. He must hold his ground till dark at any cost. I will send him Miller's Battery; I can do no more. I have no infantry." Then as the messenger was riding away he called him back. "Tell him if he cannot hold his ground, then the bridge, to the last man! always the bridge! If the bridge is lost, all is lost." The enemy was pressing down hard upon the battery which had been placed on the crest in front of the Eleventh. Burnside called for aid and General Rodman having been killed, Colonel Harland took command of the division, re-formed the disorganized regiments, and by his bravery the unsupported battery was rescued from capture.

The fighting was ended. It was indeed a fearful day for the Sixteenth.

Without having time allowed to learn even the rudiments of military science, it was hurried forward and was formed in regimental line almost for the first time on the battle-field of Antietam, the bloodiest day America ever saw. After sunset the brigade was relieved, and retired across the river to reorganize and be ready for the duties which they might be called upon to do when another day should come.

Arms were stacked, and the tired soldiers laid down to rest. Of all gloomy nights, this was the saddest we ever experienced. All was quiet and silent as the grave. The stacks of straw which the rebels had fired burned slow and dimly. The cries and groans of the wounded that lay on the battle-field could be heard distinctly, and the occasional report of artillery sounded solemn and death-like.

The morning of the 18th dawned. The sun rose obscurely and there was a fair prospect of rain. The Sixteenth had gone into the battle with 940 men. Some not being able to endure the hard marching had been left at Frederick City. On this morning we could muster but 300 men; but during the day about 200 joined the regiment who wore unable to find it the previous evening. It was a sorry sight that morning as General Burnside rode up to encourage the men, who supposed, of course, that the battle would be resumed, said, "only hold out this day, boys, and the war is ended." Colonel Harland's brigade was once more moved forward, and stationed in line of battle near the bridge, which General Burnside had been ordered to hold at all hazards. Here they remained until the next morning, when the bridge was crossed, and the Sixteenth detached from the brigade to bury their dead, and care for the wounded who were still lying upon the field. The casualties in the Sixteenth were as follows: Lieut. Col. F.W. Cheney wounded in the arm, Maj. Geo. A. Washburn wounded severely in the groin, Captains Manross, Drake, and Brown instantly killed, Captain Barber mortally wounded, dying; about fifteen hours after, Captains Babc.o.c.k and Hayden wounded, Lieut. William Horton killed, and four lieutenants wounded.

Thirty-eight enlisted men were killed outright. A great many of the men were mortally wounded and died within twenty-four hours after the battle, so that on the 19th, two days after the battle, when the regiment was detailed to bury the dead and pick up the wounded, the recapitulation stood as follows: Killed, 4 captains, 1 lieutenant, and 51 enlisted men; wounded, 2 field officers, 2 captains, 4 lieutenants, and 176 enlisted men; captured, 12 enlisted men and 180 missing, making a total loss of 432 men. For forty-eight hours men were brought in. Parties scoured the fields hunting for the wounded. Many had crept out of the storm of battle and hidden under fences, or among rocks, or in thickets, and their strength failing, they could neither come forth, or make known their situation. Some of the badly wounded did not have any attention for several days. All houses and barns were converted into hospitals, and yards and fields were strewn with straw and the wounded laid, there without shelter. Surgeons worked hard day and night, taking rest only when unable to stand up from weariness. At one of these hospitals about 25 of the Sixteenth were placed. Nothing was to be heard but cries, groans, and entreaties. Here Captain Barber lay in about the center of a barn, quiet, happy, and contented with his lot. The wounded lay around him on every side. He said that he could not live long, and spoke encouraging words to all. Gilbert B.

Foster, of Co. A, who died November 13th, was also here. In a room about 1220 a b.l.o.o.d.y table stood and around it were five surgeons. A wounded man was laid on the table and it took but a few seconds for them to decide what to do, and but a few minutes to do it. The amputated limbs were thrown out of a window. In forty-eight hours there were as many as two cart loads of amputated legs, feet, arms, and hands in the pile. Plenty of men, most of them slightly wounded, were hard at work carrying the wounded to and fro, making beds of straw, hauling and cutting wood, cooking, feeding, and a.s.sisting in a thousand ways.

(On the afternoon of the 18th, a heavy shower, lasting an hour, made it very uncomfortable for those not sheltered.)

"Captain Drake was the most gentlemanly man in the regiment," said Surgeon Mayer. "He was the very soul of courtesy and unaffected dignity of deportment. He always had a quiet care for his men, when they were sick, and was a marked favorite with them, as well as with comrades in the line."