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

Saturday, May 14th.

About 9 o’clock in the morning we came up with Burnside’s Ninth Corps in full sight of Spottsylvania Court House. During the day the artillery was gotten into position, and at about 7 o’clock P. M. there was some brilliant cannonading by both sides. We were moved up to the rear of the Artillery Brigade near the Nye River, where private Collins was wounded, and remained all night waiting for orders to camp, burrowing in the mud and sleeping under sheets of water, but no such orders came. We traveled about six miles to-day.

Friday, May 13th.

There was very little cannonading to-day, and though there was nothing like a general engagement, there was occasional brisk musketry. Cos. E and K joined the battalion and we were moved up to the extreme front. Both armies seemed to be moving and on nearly parallel lines. After marching about two miles we found that a flank movement to the left was being made, and starting at about 9 o’clock P. M., in company with the artillery batteries, we marched pretty much all night. The rain for the past few days, and which was still pouring down, had converted the light Virginia soil into a sea of mud, and the wheels of the guns, caissons, ammunition wagons, etc., sank to the hubs, but by putting our shoulders to the wheels in aid of the horses and mules and artillerymen, we managed to accomplish about two miles during the night. The whole Corps was in motion on our right. We hear that the 126th has been badly cut up.

Thursday, May 12th.

Reached the vicinity of Tabernacle Church at about five o’clock A. M., where a ration of fresh beef was issued, and the men who had dropped out during the night came straggling in. Saw a force of cavalry a little way off, with uniforms literally covered with yellow braid, and learned that it had just come from Rhode Island to join General Burnside’s Ninth Corps, and is known as Burnside’s Butterfly Cavalry. Left the church at 11 A. M. and going to the front reported to General Warren. On the way passed the 3rd Penn. Artillery, which we left at Fort Marcy in March. The Second Corps took several thousand prisoners and nineteen guns to-day. The rebel General Johnson and another general officer, who were captured in Barlow’s charge, passed through our line in an ambulance and looked madder than wet hens. And well they might, for it rained all day, thus adding to the bedraggled appearance of the captives. Many of the captured guns were parked near us, and for a time we were formed in line near them to repel any effort to recapture them. We have little idea where we are or what is going on about us. It was reported that the cavalry sent out to cut the rebel communication with Gordonsville, had destroyed eight miles of railroad and two trains of cars, and had taken about five hundred prisoners. All told we marched about twelve miles to-day.

Wednesday, May 11th.

Slept on our arms all night, but everything was comparatively quiet. It looks very much like rain this morning. Hear a report that rebels have been flanked and two thousand prisoners and twelve guns captured, but the report proves to be without foundation. Hear nothing from the cavalry. A thunderstorm came on about 4 P. M., the first rain since we left Culpepper Court House. Reported that the Twenty-second Corps is on the way to join this army. Started towards Fredericksburg in the afternoon and marched all night in the mud, many of the men falling out of the ranks by the way. Very little cannonading during the day.

Tuesday, May 10th.

Heavy cannonading from 8 A. M. to 1 P. M. The Pontoon train has been sent back to Fredericksburg, apparently to get it out of the way, and the army horses are put on half-rations, that is, five pounds of food. Ambulances and army wagons with two tiers of flooring, loaded with wounded and drawn by four and six mule teams, pass along the plank, or, rather, corduroy road to Fredericksburg, the teamsters lashing their teams to keep up with the train, and the wounded screaming with pain as the wagons go jolting over the corduroy. Many of the wounds are full of maggots. I saw one man with an arm off at the shoulder, with maggots half an inch long crawling in the sloughing flesh, and several poor fellows were holding stumps of legs and arms straight up in the air so as to ease the pain the rough road and the heartless drivers subjected them to. These men had been suffering in temporary field hospitals, as no opportunity had been afforded to send them to the rear until we got within reach of the road running to Fredericksburg.

And this reminds me of a scene I witnessed a day or two since which seemed to me to cap the climax of the horrors of war. Passing along a little in the rear of the lines when a battle was raging in which my battalion was not engaged, I came upon a field-hospital to which the stretcher-bearers were bringing the men wounded in the conflict. Under three large “tent flies,” the center one the largest of all, stood three heavy wooden tables around which were grouped a number of surgeons and their assistants, the former bare-headed and clad in long linen dusters reaching nearly to the ground, which were covered with blood from top to bottom and had the arms cut off or rolled to the shoulders. The stretcher-bearers deposited their ghastly freight side by side in a winrow on the ground in front of the table under the first tent fly. Here a number of assistants took charge of the poor fellows, and as some of them lifted a man on to the first table others moved up the winrow so that no time nor space should be lost. Then some of the surgeons administered an anesthetic to the groaning and writhing patient, exposed his wound and passed him to the center table. There the surgeons who were operating made a hasty examination and determined what was to be done and did it, and more often than not, in a very few moments an arm or a leg or some other portion of the subject’s anatomy was flung out upon a pile of similar fragments behind the hospital, which was then more than six feet wide and three feet high, and what remained of the man was passed to the third table, where other surgeons finished the bandaging, resuscitated him and posted him off with others in an ambulance. Heaven forbid that I should ever again witness such a sight!

An attack on our right for the purpose of capturing the wagon train is anticipated, and we make dispositions of troops accordingly. Later the attack was made and repulsed. We learn that a force of cavalry has been sent out to cut the rebel communications with Gordonsville.

Monday, May 9th.

It is reported this morning that General Butler has taken City Point and Petersburg, and that General Longstreet’s corps has gone to Richmond, but we have learned to put very little faith in rumors. At half-past six P. M. heavy cannonading is heard in front. At two o’clock Headquarters are moved back to the Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg plank road, and we are marched back two-and a-half miles. It is reported that General Sedgwick, commanding the Sixth Corps, is killed.

Sunday, May 8th.

Took up our line of march about five o’clock in the morning and overtook the artillery train at about four P. M. The day was hot and the roads very dusty, and we were obliged to tie handkerchiefs over our mouths and noses in order to breathe. Smoke from forest fires filled the air and added to the misery caused by the dust. Marched about seven miles. Companies D and H were detailed to guard the Headquarters train, which was then near the Nye River, and K and E were sent to guard the ammunition train of the Corps. The artillery and musketry fire at 7 o’clock was very brisk, and was supposed to be near Spottsylvania Court House. In the evening Companies D and H were sent out on picket, and were marched about a good deal without any apparent object except exercise.

Saturday, May 7th.

I woke this morning just at daylight, probably aroused by the whizzing of a stray bullet now and then, and taking an observation from the stump behind which I lay, and which stood about fifty feet in rear of the breastworks, I discovered that .the pine trees in our front and just beyond the “slashing” were full of rebel sharpshooters. This discovery very much surprised me, and disabused my mind of the impression given me the night before that there were two lines of battle in our front, and as quietly as possible I got such of my men as were not already there, into the little trench close to the breastworks, and in the limited space allowed us we began to boil our coffee. This was rather a ticklish business, for the rebels “had us down,” as the situation is described in the army, that is, had the advantage of seeing, and the opportunity of shooting at, any head which might be raised above the top log of the breastworks, a condition of things which seriously embarrassed us in gathering fuel for our little fires. As illustrative of the advantage which accrues to the side which has the other side “down,” I may mention the following incident. One of my men named Michael Ryan, with more curiosity than discretion, looked over the top of the breastworks, thinking to locate a sharpshooter who was in a tree quite near us and was persistent in his attentions to any of us who was careless in exposing himself. Hardly had Ryan’s head reached the level of the log when the sharpshooter furrowed his cheek with a minie ball, and conferred upon him the distinction of being the second man in the company to be wounded. However, the shot had located the tree in which the rifle-man was perched, and borrowing a Springfield musket from one of my men, I crawled along the breastworks a little way, and taking off my hat poked the gun over the ten-inch pine log which topped the earthwork at that point, and gradually bringing the muzzle down in line with the tree, started to squint along the barrel for the chap in the butternut suit. Of course he saw the movement, and at once prepared for the head which he knew would appear at the breach of the gun, and before I could aim anywhere in his neighborhood, he sent a bullet into the log not three inches below my nose, and filled my eyes so full of pulverized pine bark that it took at least fifteen minutes to clear them out, and a much longer time than that to allay the smarting. It was a beautiful line shot, only a trifle low, and raised the man considerably in my estimation. When at length I had recovered my eyesight, I went a little further up the line where there was a green oak stake driven into the ground to support the logs which formed the inner wall of the breastworks. This stake projected a little above the upper log but was not fastened to it, and being some nine inches thick at the top and six inches thick at the bottom, I thought I could with reasonable safety rest my gun on the log alongside of the stake, and, shielding my head behind its wide upper end, get a fair chance for a shot. Hardly had I commenced to put my scheme in execution, when a minie ball struck that stake just opposite my left cheek bone with such precision and force that the blow it communicated sent me sprawling to the ground, where, upon reflection, I concluded that I did not want to kill such an excellent marksman and so returned the Springfield to its owner.

Soon after daylight the enemy, who seemed to suspect that there were some batteries of artillery somewhere on that line, though why they did not know it for a fact I cannot imagine, as their sharpshooters must have seen them, began shelling the line to draw their fire and so unmask their exact location, and as the six-pound rifle shells came in a straight line towards us, we could see them in the air after we knew at just what elevation to expect them, and they looked very much like pigeons coming at us. Some struck outside the breastworks and some passed over our heads, but no damage was done except the killing of one artillery horse and the wounding of some men in other regiments in our rear, and as our artillerists withheld their fire the cannonade did not enlighten the rebels. Shortly after the firing ceased, with the well-known “rebel yell,” the enemy came charging on us through the woods in a disordered mass, the trees having broken up anything like regular charging lines, and just as they were emerging from the timber and had nearly reached the “slashing” in front of the breastworks, not more than forty yards from our lines, our batteries, composed of eighteen guns, I think, opened with grape and canister, and in less time than it takes to tell it, what there was left uninjured of that force disappeared in the dense woods and over the hill in the rear, while the wounded were hiding behind trees as best they could and the dead were scattered about in full view.

About ten o’clock the 12th U. S. Infantry, starting from a point some distance to the left of my company, made a charge through the woods, but with what result I do not know. It was not, however, according to the notions of a volunteer, a very creditable affair so far as military formation and steadiness were concerned, for though all the men were going in the same general direction, they were scattered like a mob and were apparently firing from their hips into the tops of the trees.

Later in the day the 93rd Pennsylvania and the 2nd Michigan formed a line in a ravine in our rear preparatory to charging from our part of the works. This intended movement necessitated my drawing my company out of the ditch behind the breastworks, so that the charging line might pass through and jump the breastworks. As my men were moving out from under cover to the rear, and I was backing away as they approached me, my accomplished acquaintance of the early morning, who had stuck to his tree until this time, apparently drew another bead on me, for a shot came from his direction and passed through the top of the cap of one of my men named Barber, who was directly in front of and very close to me. His cap flew off and he dropped on one knee and raised his hand rather hesitatingly to the top of his head but, finding no blood nor any unusual depression there, he smiled rather a sickly smile, and rising to his feet stood up until all were ordered to lie down. Evidently my friend the enemy in the tree, did not at once grasp the significance of the movement on our side of the breastworks, for, as the picket line which preceded the changing line of the Pennsylvanians jumped the pine logs, he committed the indiscretion of shooting at one of them, thus attracting attention to his aerie, and almost instantly he came tumbling out of that tree as full of holes as a skimmer. After a time the charging troops returned, reporting that they had cleared out a very weakly-defended rifle-pit the holding of which would have been of no advantage to us.

At night we were relieved and ordered back to the wagon train, and moving out under fire we marched about six miles and overtook some of the artillery near Chancellorsville at about two o’clock in the morning. It was pitch dark, and we halted in line along the side of a plank road and laid down and went to sleep. A brigade of infantry was lying fast asleep on the plank road, and sometime before daylight there was a great commotion in that line, caused by a series of most unearthly yells not unlike the “rebel yell” greatly intensified, and by many of the men suddenly awakening and jumping over a fence into a woods filled with underbrush and thus carrying consternation to those farther down the line. When the road was pretty well cleared of everything but guns and old shelter tents, the cause of the stampede in the shape of an enormous mule, came trotting along, braying with all its might, thus illustrating for a second time the power and efficiency of the “jawbone of an ass.”

Saw classmate Capt. Van Marter with his cavalry drawn up beside a road on which we were marching.

Friday, May 6th.

We were aroused at half-past two o’clock this morning by an officer who brought us orders to leave the Headquarters Train and to report at Corps Headquarters at once, which order we instantly obeyed. Arriving at Gen. Warren’s headquarters, which were then at the Lacy House, in a commanding position upon a hill from which a view could be had of the dense woods upon all sides forming part of the Wilderness in which the troops of the Fifth Corps now lay in line of battle, we halted on the southerly slope, and, stacking arms, began to boil our coffee, the favorite occupation of the soldiers upon all occasions when a halt is ordered, expecting every moment to be ordered into the line. Soon Company E, which had been ordered up from the ammunition train, joined us, and from the strenuous efforts made to bring every available man to the front, and the anxiety apparent on the faces of the officers about Headquarters, we were convinced that a crisis was approaching. Before daylight the ball was opened by the skirmishers, and about half-past four the artillery, such as could be efficiently used, joined in the chorus. As the day dawned the firing increased all along the lines, and the pattering of the skirmishes was soon lost in the deep and terrible roll of the musketry of the main lines. I never listened to a sound more thrilling than that of this morning’s engagement. The loudest and longest peals of thunder were no more to be compared to it in depth and volume, than the rippling of a trout brook to the roaring of Niagara. The Sixth New York and other regiments of Heavy Artillery left in the defenses of Washington when we were ordered out, passed us this morning going forward to fill a gap in the line through which the enemy is momentarily expected to pour its charging columns, and to repel which all the reserved artillery has been in position in front of Headquarters with the guns shotted and the cannoneers at their posts. Fortunately, the weak spot is not discovered by our adversaries, but the crowds of wounded surging from the woods in every direction and hastening to the rear, bear terrible witness to the desperate valor of the combatants, and show a gradual but certain weakening of the lines. Here again I am compelled to bear the mortification of being asked by a staff officer what Battery I command, and upon pointing out my company of foot soldiers, hearing the officer add apologetically, “Ah, you are one of the Heavies.” I shall never cease to condemn in the strongest terms the action of the Government in enlisting us for one branch of the service and then, without our consent, transferring us to another.

About three o’clock P. M., we were ordered to the front, and with many speculations as to our destination, we fell in line and marched across an open field into the woods. Entering the low pines and underbrush through which roads had been cut for the passage of artillery and ambulances, we moved noiselessly along until we emerged from the pines in a hollow, and formed line of battle beside a little brook just in rear of several batteries of artillery, which, being in position, connected the extreme right of the Fifth Corps with the left of the Sixth. Here, stacking arms until the engineers should complete the breastworks on the left of the batteries, the men unslung their knapsacks, built their little fires and improved the time boiling their coffee. About seven o’clock, and while we were still busy at our hard-tack and coffee, the firing opened very briskly to the right, and soon a mounted staff officer dashed wildly down upon us, shouting at the top of his voice that the Sixth Corps had broken and was retreating before the victorious Rebs, who in a few minutes would be upon us also and “gobble us up,” closing his remarks by ordering us forward into the unfinished rifle-pit. Such information calmly and quietly conveyed to veterans far in the rear, would hardly inspire them with martial ardor. What, then, must be the effect on green troops on the front line with arms stacked and belts laid aside? As might have been expected, the result was well nigh disastrous, for nearly every man in the battalion, with the natural instinct of self-preservation, seized his knapsack and started on the double-quick for the rear. Fortunately, however, the officers were in the rear of the line, and, with the assistance of the non-commissioned officers and a few cool-headed private soldiers, by threats and prayers, by words and blows, finally restored order, and, forming the line, the battalion moved into the rifle-pits. Joe, one of my bodyguards, however, would have distinguished himself on this occasion by gallantly retreating and carrying away my sword and revolver, which I had taken off a few moments before the stampede commenced, had I not caught him just in time to save my property, though he himself disappeared. Notwithstanding the terrible forebodings of the mounted officer referred to, and who by this time had no doubt reported at Headquarters, the firing gradually died away, and, being assured by the engineers that there were two lines of battle in the woods in front of us, we laid down to pleasant dreams in the rifle-pits,

merely stationing a picket to guard our slumbers. General Wadsworth, and Lieut. Walker of our Sixth Corps battalion, were killed, and private Washington Covert, of my company, was wounded to-day.