Saturday, June 4th.
Morning found us still at work on’ the redoubt, and after finishing that and assisting in building other earthworks rendered necessary because the enemy’s sharp- shooters prevented our using that one by picking off our cannoneers, I went to turn over to Lieut. Hamlink, our Battalion Adjutant, the shovels, axes and pick-axes with which we had been at work. The sharpshooters were very troublesome at that point also, and their missiles were constantly singing about our ears. Hamlink, rather ostentatiously as I thought, sat down upon a stump to count the tools while I stood just inside the end of a breast-work, and on my cautioning him that he was unnecessarily exposing himself, he replied, a little contemptuously, “Oh! the bullet isn’t run that is to hit me.” Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when a ball furrowed his cheek and barked his shoulder, thus contradicting his assertion, and he hurriedly left me to turn over my tools to somebody else. Shortly after this incident two men just to my left, who were incautiously looking over the breastworks, were shot in the face. One was killed instantly, and though the other received the ball between the eyes, it traversed his skull over the top of his head and beneath his scalp, and made its exit at the back of his neck, stunning him at first but not seriously interfering with his going to hospital without assistance five minutes afterwards.
About 1 P. M. my company returned to its gopher-hole camp and was permitted to remain there for the rest of the day making up for lost sleep.
June 4th. Saturday morning. Up early and on the march, going on through the town. About ten miles up the pike is Mount Crawford, at which point the Shenandoah River crosses the pike. The enemy have the mount strongly fortified, a commanding position. About three miles out of Harrisonburg we file to the left over a dirt road. The intention seems to be to flank the mount. We are now making for Port Republic, near which we were obliged to cross the Shenandoah River. Owing to the recent heavy rains it was very high, running swift. A canvas pontoon bridge was made by drawing canvas over boat frames which had been made and brought along. The boats were made and placed in the river, when the bridge was completed like any pontoon bridge, except the canvas boats. (The first and only ones I ever saw, and was the only time I ever saw that one used.) It was a frail thing for an army to cross on. General Hunter sat on his horse very close to the frail bridge, anxiously watching us cross, and shouting, “Men, break step.” That would divide the weight while we were on the bridge. That seemed to be a duty that the General would not trust to any one else. (I well remember that scene.) As far as I know the army all passed over in safety. The cavalry crossed at some other point. A young cavalryman attempted to swim his horse across the river near the bridge, slipped or fell from his horse and was drowned. Many boys jumped in and dove for him. The high, swift running, dirty water was too much for them. The Shenandoah River was his grave, as it was the grave of many other Union soldiers. Some were members of our regiment, the 18th Connecticut. The enemy was driven out of Port Republic, losing a large wagon train filled with supplies, captured by our cavalry. The supplies were distributed to us. A number of packages of coffee came to our company, which gave to us a great surprise as they were put up in our home town by Selden & Willard, Norwich, Conn. Here we were, one hundred miles from our base of supplies, in the enemy’s country. It has often been reported that there are people in the North getting rich by running supplies through the blockade. These people are anxious to prolong the war when they should remember that every battle kills a soldier, and by the help they give to the foes. These soldier boys have dear friends at home. Passed on through Port Republic, camping near the town. Hunter forced the enemy to leave Mount Crawford and change front. Judging from what we can learn the enemy is in strong force in our front. Night sets in dark and raining.
4th. Soon after daybreak Regt. moved up. Packs ordered up and breakfast got near the church. Regt. dismounted and put into the breastworks. Rebel cavalry charged and drove our boys from the first line of works, by flanking them. Soon column came up and rebs ran back. Had one killed and two or three wounded in their scrape. Tom came up in the evening, going back to the company, would like to go myself. About sundown the firing on Burnside’s right was the most terrific I ever heard and continued for nearly half an hour. It must have been an assault. Am anxious to hear the result. Gen. Torbert’s division of cavalry arrived. Regt. nearly all on duty.
Saturday, 4th—We started at 8 o’clock and marched fifteen miles today. Have had rain for three days now, but late in the afternoon it cleared off. We had to wade a river, the water being only three or four feet deep, and the boys had great fun in trying to carry the powder on their heads to keep it dry. We were soaking wet from the rain so we did not mind wading the river. But the muddy roads make marching very hard, especially since we are kept on two-thirds rations when we might just as well have more. Large foraging parties were again sent out, but there isn’t anything in the country to be had, although we traversed a level country between two mountains the whole day.
June 4, 1864.
We have had a good deal of fun to-day. The firing has been brisker than usual on account of our advancing our works. We got up a mock charge this afternoon, which came pretty near scaring the Rebel skirmishers out of their boots and made a good deal of fun for us. Our regiment is on fatigue duty. We are working within 80 yards of the Rebel works. They cut a Company C man’s finger off when he raised his pick to-day. Another of our men was shot in the face. I, with my company, work from 12 to-night until three in the morning.
Huntsville, Saturday, June 4. Very wet, most of the day. Damp, drizzly day. On detail in the forenoon, hauled water. Hon. John Y. Smith, former state historian of Wisconsin, is supplying us with records of the 6th Wisconsin Battery. Filled out my certificate of membership. Sent it home.
In the field, near Bethesda Church, June 4, 1864.
Dear Father — Your letters of May 26th and 28th were received yesterday, and glad enough I was to get them.
We form the extreme right of the army, and are in strong fortifications. Yesterday our corps attacked the enemy in our front, and drove them about half a mile. The day before, we fell back from our line about two miles in front of our present one, in order to keep up our connection with the rest of the army, which had moved to the left. While falling back the enemy attacked us, but we held our own and repulsed them. Our brigade was not actively engaged yesterday, being held in reserve. We were started from one end of the line to the other, and then back again, being under heavy shell fire, and scattering musketry. I had a very narrow escape. I was sitting on a fallen tree, when a 12-pounder shell came along very nearly spent, and grazed my coat sleeve. If I had not changed my position about 15 seconds before, it would have struck me in my right shoulder.
The enemy made a heavy attack on Hancock’s Corps late last evening, and were repulsed with heavy loss. Things look well, although I have no idea what General Grant’s plans can be. I should think that he would endeavor to reach the James River, and join with Butler.
I am perfectly well, although pretty well tired out from this hard campaigning. You have no idea of what the men and officers have had to undergo for the last month. A good portion of the time I have slept on the ground without blankets or shelter during rain and shine. I have not caught cold, and have never been in better health.
Give my love to all the family.
P.S. I received my commission as colonel this morning.
June 4. — We were under orders to march during the whole day. Finally moved in the afternoon to a position between the Fifth Corps and the Eighteenth Corps. We were placed in reserve under the crest of a hill. Took tea with Captain Wright.
June 4 — We remained in camp to-day. Some cannonading in front, in the direction of Cold Harbor.
Meadow Bridge is five miles north of Richmond and is just above where the Central Railroad crosses the Chickahominy. The country around Meadow Bridge is low, wet, and swampy. About three miles north of the bridge is a small scope of country of very fertile, rich and beautiful land.
The Chickahominy is a small sluggish stream winding through a low swampy section of country; its banks are covered with trees and fringed with a dense growth of thickets. The water of the Chickahominy is of a rich tannish brown color, something similar in shade to weak lye; the color is caused by the drainings of the swamps which are its principal feeders.
Diary And Memoranda, 1864
June 4th. Arrived in N. Y.
