Friday, May 6. — Started about 3 A.M. and marched on the Plank Road to a point near General Meade’s headquarters. From here we were sent to the left and ordered to report to General Birney. All this time the musketry firing was fearful. It was one continual roll, at long intervals broken by the loud booming of a cannon. We went up what was called the Brock Road. We kept receiving orders from Generals Hancock, Birney and others, so that “things were slightly mixed.” We found quite a sharp fight going on, the enemy having been driven two miles since morning. The firing was almost entirely from musketry, as we were in the celebrated Wilderness, where the country is thickly wooded, with a thick underbrush of scrub-pine, briars, etc. Our brigade was filed to the right of the Orange Court House Road, and placed in column of regiments with the left resting on the road. We advanced, being the third line, some half a mile without much opposition. We were engaged in this way about three hours, from 8.45 until 11.45, losing only about six men. At about 12 the enemy flanked our left, and we were sent to oppose their advance. We were posted in a ditch along the side of the road, and on the left. A heavy fire was immediately opened on us, and as some of the men were in confusion from some of the Second Corps running through them, Colonel Griswold ordered the colors forward. Colonel Griswold was shot dead, through the neck, and consequently I was left in command of the regiment.
As the enemy had crossed the road on our left and right, I asked General Webb, who was to the rear a few paces, whether I should not order them to retreat. He said I had better do so. His actual words were: “Get out of there as d—d quick as you can!” We had to try a double quick-step in order to save our colors and escape being taken prisoners. I tried to rally the men five or six times, but as soon as we stopped we got a volley which started us on again. The men did not retreat until I ordered them to do so. They behaved admirably. I was very much astonished that they did not all run when the Second Corps ran over them. Sergeant Harrigan, our color-sergeant, behaved nobly. When we had gone back about 30 or 40 rods, Captain Adams was wounded and left in the hands of the enemy. We reached the road with about 75 men and the colors, —more men than were with the colors of any other regiment. We soon collected 100 more men, and by afternoon the ranks were swelled to 300.
We were on the Plank Road to Orange Court House, where we were engaged, and after the fight we were placed behind rifle-pits on the Brock Road. We were in action about three and a half hours. Saw John Perry just as I was going into the fight. Got a bullet through my boot-leg, while we were retreating. The fire was the heaviest I have ever been under. Several of my men, that I drove out from behind trees, were killed by my side. Trees were cut down by the bullets, and bark was knocked into my face time and again by the bullets. We were not able to get poor Charley Griswold’s body. Sent out for it, and also for Zab Adams’s, but could find no traces of either. The last words that Charley said to me were, “Poor Bartlett is killed.”[1] The result of the day’s fight was that we gained ground all along the line, capturing several hundred prisoners. The enemy partially turned our right.
[When we were advancing on this morning we passed several rebels lying on the ground, who had been wounded a little while before. One of them asked one of our men for some water. The man stopped at the brook, got him some water, and then went ahead. As soon as we had gone fifty yards or so, the fellow we had given water to drew himself up and shot one of our men. Some of the others went back and quickly put him out of the world. It was a mean, cowardly thing for a man to do who had been treated as we treated him.
The firing to-day was the heaviest I have ever known or heard. I think the regiment did remarkably well considering that they were a new regiment, and that the old troops whose terms of enlistment were expiring did not behave very well — as one might naturally expect where troops who were to go out of service the next day were put into a heavy fight. I have every reason to feel proud of the regiment. Griswold’s death was a sad blow to me, as I was very fond of him. He was extremely brave and behaved like a gallant soldier. He was shot through the jugular vein while holding the colors, which were covered with his blood.]
[1] General Bartlett was not killed, as Griswold had heard.
