Diary of a Young Officer–Josiah Marshall Favill (57th New York Infantry)

October 21st. Have just returned from a little reconnoissance up the valley, to Charleston. We marched out on the morning of the 16th, weather charming, and as the country is open, and very beautiful, we anticipated a jolly time of it, but during the night, while in bivouac, it rained great guns, and made things very uncomfortable. In the morning, after passing through our picket lines, we formed in regular order, skirmishers in front, flankers on either side, advance guard with supports, batteries, etc., in superb style, strictly according to regulations. We soon came in contact with the rebel cavalry videtts, and were shelled by one of their batteries. We drove in the pickets, and our batteries gave their attention to the rebel guns. Zook and his staff rode ahead in front of the skirmish, line. Advancing through some heavy timber, we reached an open field, and on the other side of it some five hundred yards distant, drawn up in battle array, was a long line of the enemy’s cavalry, who charged across the field the moment they caught sight of us. We wheeled to the rear, and galloped for shelter behind our men. In the race I lost my watch chain, which caught in a branch and was broken off. Our men advanced, and soon the cavalry were obliged to retire about as fast as they had advanced, but I could not recover the lost chain. The advance was continued until we reached the village of Charleston, driving the enemy steadily before us, then going into bivouac for the night on the outskirts of the town. Headquarters were established in the little cemetery, said to be the place where John Brown was buried. The horses were hitched to some of the melancholy looking tombstones, and Seth made up my bed on fence rails laid across two convenient graves, which proved a grand arrangement, as it rained heavily during the night. With a rubber blanket under us and another over us we were completely weather proof, and slept like the babes in the woods. The whole detachment returned on the 18th without eliciting much information.

October 16th. The rebel General Stuart crossed the Potomac on the 10th above Williamsport, and has made a most successful raid entirely around our army, recrossing in safety near the Monocacy. He has destroyed immense quantities of material, besides refitting his command, and captured horses enough to nearly remount it, and the country is in consequence in the direst distress. He went as far as Chambersburg, destroying everything in his path, and we sat supinely quiet, and our cavalry, too. Oh for a military genius to take command! Colonel Zook has rejoined us again and assumed command of the brigade. I, of course, go with him, and become acting assistant adjutant general.

October 10th. The army is still enjoying a rest, and has refitted, and barring additions to our ranks, is in as fine condition as ever.

The newspapers are getting anxious about another campaign, and it does look as though we were wasting valuable time, although none of us is particularly anxious for another fight. A great many new regiments have joined, and it is a thousand pities we can not send home their officers and distribute the men amongst the old regiments. What a tremendous difference that would make to the efficiency of the army.

On the 12th I rode over for the second time to Pry’s House, on the Antietam battlefield, to see General Richardson about Zook’s papers for promotion to be brigadier-general, but found the general hopelessly ill with no chance of recovery. I enjoyed the ride, although it was a little lonesome and tiresome. I have now letters from General Howard, Commanding Second division, General Caldwell, First brigade of our division, and General Stoneman, of the cavalry service, and the colonel’s brother, David, starts home with them to-morrow.

September 28th. Excellent weather. Nothing of importance to relate. Our tents are pitched, and we are living in luxury and abundance, drilling, and making as much as possible out of what is left to us. McKim is in charge of the division hospital in a large brick house, and is gaining much reputation for industry, as well as for his professional attainments. We still keep up our ancient familiarity, and frequently take long romantic rides together. The other day we crossed the river by the pontoon bridge, and rode leisurely along the base of the Blue Ridge over an excellent road, delightfully shaded for a considerable distance up the Loudon valley. We stopped at a house by the mountain side, and found a very clever old lady agreeably disposed. Bought some honey and fresh milk, which we disposed of al fresco, while listening to the experiences of the old lady, who related a lot of gossip.

Much time has been spent here in preparing the official reports of the engagement at Antietam.

Colonel John R. Brooke’s report of the battle, as commanding officer of the brigade, mentions our charge as follows:

“The enemy having taken post in a cornfield, in the rear of Roulett’s farm house, I sent the Fifty-third Pennsylvania to dislodge them, and hold the position, and this was done with great gallantry. I then advanced the Fifty-seventh and Sixty-sixth New York to relieve Caldwell’s lines, which were fiercely assailed by fresh troops of the enemy. Passing his line with steadiness and regularity they drove the enemy from the field in great confusion, capturing two colors, and covering the ground with dead and wounded. It was here the gallant Lieutenant Colonel Parisen fell, while bravely cheering his men on to victory. Lieutenant J. M. Favill, Adjutant Fifty-seventh New York, after Lieutenant Potts was borne from the field, supplied his place with great gallantry.”

In General Hancock’s report of the part the division, as a whole, took in the battle, he pays some of us very handsome compliments. He says: “There were some officers, who by their position and the occasions presented, had opportunities of acquiring the highest distinction, and amongst others names Lieutenant, Colonel Parisen, Major A. B. Chapman, and First Lieutenant J. M. Favill, of the Fifty-seventh.”

Major Chapman’s report of Antietam:

Camp On Bolivar Heights,

September 24th, 1862.

Lieutenant: I have the honor to submit the following report of the movements of my command during the action of the 17th instant near Sharpsburg. About noon of that day, we became actively engaged with the enemy, our brigade having relieved that of General Meagher. This regiment, and the Sixty-sixth, received orders to march on the enemy, who were at that time drawn up in a ditch at the foot of the hill on which we were, and from which they were pouring a galling fire into our ranks. Animated by the presence of both their brigade and division commanders, the regiment moved forward with a determined enthusiasm I have never seen excelled. In a few minutes we had cleared the ditch of every living enemy, and were driving them in great disorder through the cornfield beyond. It was during this period of action we lost our noble and gallant Lieutenant-Colonel Parisen, and several valuable line officers. We took the colors of the Twelfth Alabama and many prisoners. I am unable to form a very correct estimate of the latter, but they considerably exceeded the number of men in the ranks of my regiment.

Remaining a short time in line at the farther end of this cornfield, I received orders to move the regiment to the support of a battery on our left and rear. I filed around the foot of the hill under a terrible fire of grape and cannister, which fortunately caused us comparatively slight loss, being aimed too high. Arriving on the left of the battery, I found General Richardson, who was in the act of assigning me my position, when he was badly wounded, and carried from the field. I then formed on the right of Caldwell’s brigade, and remained in that position until I received orders from the colonel commanding the brigade to form on the left of the Second Delaware, then posted on the hill on which we remained during the succeeding two days.

It is with gratification that I speak of the general conduct of my command, both officers and men. They acted nobly throughout. I would especially mention Capt. N. Garrow Throop, severely wounded; Capt. James W. Britt, who although wounded, refused to leave the field; Capt. Kirk, Curtis and Mott, Lieut. John H. Bell,severely wounded; Lieuts. Jones, Wright; Higbee and Folger, killed. The medical officers of the regiment, Surgeon R. V. McKim and Assistant Surgeon Henry C. Dean and Nelson Neely are deserving of all praise for their care and attention to the wounded, and the promptness with which they caused them to be removed from the field. Among the enlisted men I would especially mention First Sergeant Lindason, of Company F (killed) ; First Lieutenant John S. Paden, Company A (wounded) ; Sergeant H. W. Cooper, Company H (killed); Sergeant Stobbe, Company A (wounded); and Kelly, Company A; First Sergeant Hall, Company I, and Alcoke, Company K, and Brower, Company K. The last three I placed in command of companies which had lost officers and sergeants.

I have considered it unnecessary to submit a more elaborate report, inasmuch as every movement was made under the immediate supervision of the colonel commanding the brigade, who on that day seemed omnipresent. We took into battle three hundred and nine officers and men, and lost ninety-seven killed and wounded, and three missing.

A. B. Chapman,

Major Commanding.

The doctor, I am sorry to say, is going to desert us to get married, and will never rejoin again. This is the most unkindest cut of all, and at this melancholy time, too, when so many of our best fellows are hors du combat through the casualties of war. It is like pulling up by the roots all our early associations, and is enough to make one swear! Why could not the young woman wait awhile?

September 27th. The camp looks lonesome in the absence of so many familiar faces. If we could only get substitutes to take the places of those constantly dropping out through the casualties of war that would be some compensation, but as it is there is only a void, and the result is a general apathy, and loss of interest. War is not as romantic as it once seemed to me, the cruelty and suffering is incredible and worries one all the time, and the losses and destruction of human life, at all events in this war, are so enormous that it seems only a question of time, when all of us must be hors du combat.

[September 23d]

From Bolivar Heights, on which our camp is pitched, we have a magnificent view of the Shenandoah valley, limited only by the distant horizon. Immediately across the river are the Loudon Heights, and there, perched up well in the clouds, are several batteries and a large force of infantry. The place is of great strength naturally, but requires a big garrison to hold it. Unless both heights many miles in extent are held, it is untenable, and I suppose Miles with his eleven or twelve thousand men, who surrendered so promptly to General Jackson, concluded it was useless to fight with his small command. It seems Miles retired from the heights on the approach of the enemy, and took shelter in the town, where he was absolutely powerless. As the general was killed, his apparently poor judgment and wretched defense will never be explained. But if the place had held out for twenty-four hours which seems quite possible, Franklin’s corps would have reached it from the Maryland side, and together they could not only have held the fort, but prevented Jackson from joining Lee at Antietam, which would very likely have resulted in Lee’s destruction. Miles probably knew nothing of the measures taken for his relief, but the result shows how imperatively necessary it is for all commanders of detached posts to hold on to the very death. What a chance Miles had for making a hero of himself!

Lee’s army is reported in the neighborhood of Winchester, and is believed to be wholly west of the Blue Ridge. No attempt, apparently, at present is to be made to renew the campaign, and so we are putting up our tents and forming regular camps. The losses have been so great, that few of the old regiments now exceed two hundred men each. The recruiting service is entirely out of joint, and does not furnish in six months as many men as we sometimes lose before breakfast. The total force of the army is maintained by raising new regiments, instead of filling up the old ones, and consequently half the men are inexperienced and useless. It is a wonder to me, that such a vital point should be overlooked by the Government, and no attempt made to keep the force up in quality as well as in numbers.

Another difficulty with the service is the lack of system in promotion. Excepting subaltern commissions, nearly all are obtained through influence at home. There are notable instances in my own regiment, where officers have been commissioned, directly in opposition to the colonel’s recommendation, and the seniority and rights of other officers.

September 21st. This morning the Second corps fell in at an early hour and marched to Harper’s Ferry, encamping on Bolivar Heights. The march was very pleasant, the roads being good, and the weather superb. The whole army is in camp in the vicinity, and every hill and valley within sight is dotted over with canvas villages. Harper’s Ferry is one of the picturesque spots in America, delightfully situated in the gap of the Blue Ridge mountains. The Shenandoah here unites with the Potomac, and together they flow between the range of mountains on the way to the deep blue sea. Away off to the southwest the Blue Ridge mountains, with their thickly wooded slopes, form an impenetrable wall on the easterly side of the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah, and to the equally fertile Louden valley on the opposite side of the range.

The town lays in the hollow, at the foot of the heights, and is now of no importance, except as the place where the celebrated John Brown and his followers immortalized themselves. The old blackened walls of the government arsenals, destroyed at the very beginning of the war, stand like grim skeletons in their hideousness, and with the exception of a few straggling huts, is all there is of the place.

[September 20]

General Lee conducted his retreat with much skill, crossing the Potomac, and saving all his material with little or no loss. Our victory, considering the immense interests at stake, is certainly of the very utmost importance. The invading hosts have quickly been driven back to their piney forests, lifting an immense load from the hearts of the loyal North, but for all that our movements have been very supine. Lee’s army ought not to have got away so easily, but should have been pushed to the wall, and fought without mercy every day. From experience, however, we know that General McClellan is not equal to great occasions, and therefore it is useless to expect brilliant results while he is in command. The militia are going home again, and the Nation’s pulse will soon regain its normal condition, while our dear Maryland friends may resume their peaceful occupations, and have something to talk about as long as they live.

[September 19th]

At eight o’clock the next morning, the 19th, the men on the skirmish line, suspecting by the stillness in front that something was up, advanced and found the enemy gone. Immediately the men stood up and all was excitement. The commanding general was notified and promptly ordered Porter’s corps in pursuit, while our corps set to work to succor the wounded and bury the dead. Advancing over the hill we found it covered with dead, mostly our men, but just below in the sunken road over which we originally charged, the rebel dead lay in regular ranks, so close together that it was hard to believe they were not living men in line of battle. Most of them had turned black with the two days’ exposure and it required more than a glance to convince ourselves they were not negro troops. A lot of the gallant Fifty-seventh fellows lay scattered about the hill, the ditch, and cornfield. Amongst them, conspicuous for his neatness and soldierly appearance, was Sergeant Risley, of Co. E, firmly grasping his musket, his features almost as natural as in life, and his appointments perfect in all respects. He was a fine fellow, much above the average in intelligence, and a splendid soldier, and like a soldier died, his face towards the foe. Several men were shot while climbing a rail fence near by, and some of them stuck fast, looking in one or two cases, from a distance, exactly like live men. There were men in every state of mutilation, sans arms, sans legs, heads, and intestines, and in greater number than on any field we have seen before. About noon Colonel Brooke directed me to bury the dead in front of our brigade, and with a strong fatigue party I immediately went to work. In one long grave we buried fifty-three U. S. soldiers gathered on this side of the sunken road, and in two others respectively, one hundred and seventy-three, and eighty-five rebel soldiers; we dug the ditches wide enough to hold two bodies, feet together, heads out, and long enough to hold all those the men had collected. When they were all carefully laid away, we threw over them some army blankets gathered on the field, and then replaced the earth. How many shattered hopes we buried there none of us may ever guess. War is certainly a dreadful thing, and a battlefield an ugly blot on civilization.

The country people flocked to the battlefield like vultures, their curiosity and inquisitiveness most astonishing; while my men were all at work many of them stood around, dazed and awe-stricken by the terrible evidence of the great fight; hundreds were scatered over the field, eagerly searching for souvenirs in the shape of cannon balls, guns, bayonets, swords, canteens, etc. They were all jubilant over the rebel defeat, of course, and claimed for us a mighty victory. I was much amused at the way they stared at me. Had I been the veritable Hector of Troy, I could have scarcely excited more curiosity than while in command of this burial party.

Our brigade moved down to the foot of the hill, immediately after it was known the enemy had decamped, and prepared hot coffee for the first time in three days. We took no immediate part in the pursuit of the rebels, that duty being taken by the cavalry and Porter’s corps.

In the course of the morning, I walked over to the hospital in rear of our lines, located in a house near by, and found General Richardson dangerously wounded, Lieutenant Bell of my regiment with his skull crushed, and Throop shot through the arm, which will probably necessitate its amputation. Bell was left on the battlefield all night, when some of his men discovered him still breathing. They carried him to the hospital, and he is still alive, with a remote possibility of pulling through. While our losses are heavy, they are said to be a mere bagatelle to those of the right wing. Twenty thousand men, it is claimed, were killed and wounded during the battle, which seems too enormous to be true.

General W. S. Hancock arrived on the field about 3 P. M. the evening of the fight, from Smith’s division, and assumed command of the division. He is a fine, soldierly looking officer, and distinguished himself, in a mild way, at the affair of Williamsburg. He brought two aides along with him, Lieutenants Mitchell and Parker. Mitchell is a tall, slim young fellow, who looks every inch a soldier. In this battle the Fifty-seventh and Third brigade came out with flying colors, every one admitting they behaved with exemplary gallantry, and achieved great success. In the charge, besides those killed and wounded, we captured several hundred of the enemy, rushing right over them and sending them to the rear. Two or three flags at least were captured, and so the regiment and brigade in a measure, were compensated for their heavy list of casualties. Our gallant Parisen fell in the cornfield at the head of his regiment. He was the kindest and bravest of men, and perhaps the best loved officer in the regiment. He was very good to me, and together we have spent many hours in search of recreation. He was very handsome, tall, straight and manly, and his death is a veritable loss to the service. Other Fifty-seventh officers killed are Folger of Company I, and Higbee of Company H, Throop, Britt, Jones, and Bell are wounded. The whole loss of the regiment is something over a hundred, which is wonderful, considering the fire they were exposed to.