The Diary of a Line Officer, Captain Augustus C. Brown, Co. H, 4th NY Heavy Artillery

Friday, June 3d.

At half-past 4 A. M., after a rainy night, our artillery on the left opened fire, and the cannonading gradually extended to the right, and at about 6 o’clock became simply terrific all along the line. A charge upon the enemy’s work’s followed, made by troops of two or three of the corps at least, and it was reported that two rebel lines were carried and eighteen guns and many prisoners taken, but that being flanked by artillery our troops could not hold their position and were compelled to retire, abandoning the guns and leaving many wounded on the field. The prisoners taken and brought off were a tough looking lot, but they were better clothed, better shod and had more rations in their haversacks than any we have heretofore captured during the campaign. Our regiment was not actually in the charge, but in the afternoon we were moved up to the breast-works, which, along a part of the line, were simply a broad ridge of earth with a ditch on each side, the Union troops being on one side and the Confederates on the other, and the soldiers on neither side dared show their heads above the ridge. Immediately in the rear of the intrenchments, the earth was full of little excavations two or three feet deep, over which shelter tents were pitched so that the occupants could sleep, when opportunity offered, without danger of being hit by the bullets which often traversed the surface of the ground both day and night. These residences were called “gopher holes,” and, as might be supposed, were very popular with the soldiers no matter what their rank might be. After cutting abattis for the breast-works until dark, I was, during the night, ordered to take a detail from my company, and, with other details from our regiment, go and assist in building a redoubt for artillery on General Barlow’s front close up to the rebel lines. My instructions were most vague and unsatisfactory, and as I knew nothing about the lay of the land, I reported at once to General Barlow’s headquarters, which consisted of a wall tent with a sentry and a Division flag in front of it. I found the General curled up in the corner of his tent examining a map with a candle, but on learning that I wanted a guide he sent a staff officer with me to point out the way. I do not think this officer knew any more about the location of the lines than I did, for he lead us around in an aimless way, and at length brought us up behind a battery of artillery posted in the second line, where I halted the company to inquire of the officer in command of the battery whether he knew what was required of me. It was pitch dark, and suddenly one of those unaccountable fusillades occurred, so frequently started by somebody firing a gun on one side or the other in the night time, and the artillery on both sides promptly joined in the melee. The enemy seemed to have the range of this particular battery perfectly, and made our position so hot that I took the company away from the rear of it by the right flank at “double quick,” fortunately not losing a man except my guide, whom I never saw again. The commander of the battery had indicated to me where he thought I ought to go, which was across a ravine almost immediately in his front, and after the firing had ceased I reached the ground and with the other details built the redoubt. We had to cut the necessary logs in the ravine and carry them up the side hill, and the almost incessant musketry fire, and the sharpshooter’s fire as it grew lighter, seriously impeded the work. Occasionally there would be paroxysms of artillery firing, when we would have to suspend altogether and seek the best shelter we could find, and on one of these occasions Capt. Gould and I met in a washout or gully near by, made by some previous rainstorm in the light sandy soil, which was hardly large enough for two, and we had a good-natured argument as to which ranked the other in the right to possession. After the work was sufficiently advanced to afford some protection from the rebel fire, we were subjected to danger from our own people, for the battery in our second line of which I have spoken, opened fire two or three times on the rebel line beyond us, and sent its shot and shell screeching uncomfortably close to our heads, some of the latter exploding rather short and sending fragments and encased iron balls into our redoubt. And yet it was a beautiful sight to see the lines of fire in the darkness caused by the burning fuses of the shells when coming towards us, followed by brilliant explosions, the whole exhibition resembling very closely that made by sky-rockets at a Fourth of July celebration. During the night Gen’l Barlow visited our little fort, crawling in over the exposed ground on his hands and knees, and upon his asking how we had got in there, we answered “just as you did.”

Thursday, June 2nd.

We were aroused at 4 A. M., and after taking our hard tack and coffee, moved off toward Cold Harbor. We passed many prisoners who were being taken to the rear, and learned that the Sixth Corps was nearly whipped yesterday when “Baldy” Smith with his Eighteenth Corps came to its assistance. Heavy firing was heard on the right to-day, but what the occasion was we did not know. Marched five miles and camped some little distance in the rear of the lines, but in plain sight and not far from the old house and the little building which covered its well at Cold Harbor. Shells and solid shot from artillery were constantly dropping about us, and while I lay in my shelter tent a little six pound conical shot, almost spent, came ricocheting along the ground and actually struck the canvas by my side and quietly rolled off.

Wednesday, June 1st.

At 10 A. M. the enemy charged their own rifle pits supposing that we still held them, but our troops had left there at 2 A. M., and when the “Johnnies” advanced on the line held by our regiment and the artillery, we soon scattered them. Heavy firing was heard on the left, and it was reported that the Sixth Corps, and the Eighteenth under General “Baldy” Smith, were engaged. We left the vicinity of the Shelton House at dusk and marched about five miles to the left, crossing a ravine which we understood was called Gaine’s Mills, and halted for rest at 12 o’clock midnight.

Tuesday, May 31st.

We remained in the intrenchments all night while picket firing was going on, and in the morning the infantry made a charge and found the first line of the enemy’s works abandoned and took quite a number of prisoners. Our batteries were pushed forward to a line they had abandoned yesterday, and shelled the woods in all directions, and a skirmish line of infantry having been deployed to the front and left and found the rebels, a successful charge was made. The First Battalion of our regiment left the Sixth Corps and joined us to-day. Lieutenant Edmonston was sent forward with thirty of my men at 10 o’clock P. M., and threw up some breast-works near the rebel line, which opened fire upon him and he was ordered to fall back. Privates Gay and Shortsleeves of my company were wounded to-day.

Our regiment is again united and in the Second Corps, and rumors are rife that we are to have a Siege train or else be sent back to the defenses of Washington. We have been so constantly on the move, and so frequently transferred from one command to another, that the baggage wagon which is supposed to be transporting the effects of the battalion has never reached us, and I have not seen my satchel since we left Culpepper. The consequence is that during the nearly four weeks that have intervened, my linen collar has sloughed off and I have had no opportunity whatever to secure a change of clothing. I have had but two baths during that entire period, and my only “wash days” for clothing have been on those two occasions, when, as may be suspected, my garments had become a little soiled, and after scrubbing them diligently with sand and water, I hung them on the bushes to dry while I was attending to my personal ablutions. And yet my condition compares very favorably with that of my men, for dirt is the least of their trouble, as is apparent when, clad only in their skins, they seek such shade as they can find and “police” their shirts and trousers with their thumb nails.

I arrested a negro to-day on the picket-line and sent him to Headquarters as a suspected spy. He was far too intelligent about military matters to be allowed to run about and quite likely cross from one line to the other. He took a great fancy to my pocket knife and offered me $20 in Confederate currency for it, but would not take green-backs at any figure for some Confederate shin-plasters which I wanted as souvenirs, the first case of the kind that I have met.

Monday, May 30th.

The artillery and our battalions advanced at 4 o’clock A. M., something like half a mile to a point near Totopotomoy creek, where we stacked arms in a road and a cornfield of fifty acres, or thereabouts, and threw up earthworks for the artillery within two or three hundred yards of the enemy’s line under a galling fire of musketry. The rebels in our front were busily at work also building earthworks, and at noon they opened a brisk artillery fire. Immediately in the rear of my company as it was at work on the breast-works, stood a fine large brick or stone house with a slate roof, known as the Shelton House, which was said to belong to a rebel Colonel then in the works, in front of us, and was occupied by some ladies of his family, who had, however, very properly taken refuge in the cellar. Between our works and the house, which stood with its rear towards us, was a semi-circle of negro quarters, and in front of these little frame and log houses the artillerymen had backed up their caissons and ammunition wagons to conceal them as much as possible from the enemy. At the door of one of these cabins was a large pile of ashes, where the old “mammy” who lived there had emptied the contents of her stove for years, and as the men took out the ammunition from the chest on a limber, considerable powder was sprinkled on this dumping ground. Not long after the rebels had commenced firing, and after they had sent several rifled projectiles through the main house and its roof, and had split some of the great trees standing close by, the old darkey woman came to her door, cool as a cucumber, and apparently oblivious of the danger of her act, threw a shovel full of hot ashes and coals just out of her stove squarely under the limber, and instantly the front of that shanty was taken off as cleanly as if cut down by a monster hay-knife. Two men were killed and several wounded, but the negress is said to have escaped unhurt. A tremendous cheer at once rang out from the rebel line, the occupants of which no doubt supposed that the explosion of the limber chest had been caused by one of their shells. After getting our guns in position we opened on them, and the cannonading was vigorously kept up all along the line until dark. Co. D., Capt. Jones, was to-day detailed to man a Coehorn Mortar Battery.

Sunday, May 29th.

Moved from Headquarters into the woods and camped until after noon, when the Brigade, under Col. Kitching, moved to the front. In about two hours orders came for the Second Battalion to join the Third Battalion of our regiment in the Second Corps, and we did so, and in a short time both battalions went out with the Second Corps batteries about eight miles towards Mechanicsville and halted for the night.

Saturday, May 28th.

Started at 9 o’clock in the morning and marched all day, passing many attractive looking places, the plantation of John Carroll among others, and after making about twenty miles halted to boil coffee, but were ordered to cross the Pamunkey river, and did so at 5 o’clock at Old Ferry and camped on the heights beyond. During the day we came upon a Commissary, and those of us who could afford the luxury supplemented our usual and limited rations of hard-tack, brown sugar and coffee, with something equally bad but different in kind.

Friday, May 27th.

On reaching the Church fires were built and rations issued, and gradually the men left behind came straggling in, covered, like ourselves, with mud and wet to the skin. While trying to dry out and make ourselves reasonably comfortable under the circumstances, our morning naps were disturbed by rumors of another change of base and an impending long march. We were not actually routed out, however, until 9 o’clock A. M., when we formed line and marched steadily until 12 o’clock at night, covering twenty-five miles, but losing from the ranks more than two-thirds of the men, who fell out from sheer exhaustion but joined us later.

Thursday, May 26th.

The morning was rainy and disagreeable, and we spent the day building breast-works along the picket line. While so engaged some cavalry under command of Gen’l Wilson, as we were informed, passed out through our line, and 1 had the pleasure of a brief chat with my friend Capt. Jim McNair, whom I last saw at Culpepper, while his company was passing through my lines. He was fat as a porpoise and rode a big black horse which looked to be in as fine condition as its rider. We were relieved from picket at six o’clock P. M. and joining the Brigade, re-crossed the North Anna and in mud knee-deep marched back to Mt. Carmel Church, which we reached about one o’clock. It was utterly impossible to keep the men in line, and I had but sixteen of my company with me when we halted.