"History of Eau Claire County Wisconsin, 1914, Past and Present"
Chapter 11 - Eau Claire County in the Civil War
by W. W. Bartlett
(-as transcribed from pages 161 - 175)
On the night
of April 1, 1865, after dark an army silently marched in and occupied
our
breastworks and we were ordered to strike tents and prepare to
march.
The orders were given in a whisper or very low. We were told
to
put
our cups in our haversacks, move our bayonet scabbards around toward
the
back, so that no metal parts would strike and rattle, to keep perfectly
still, no talking nor noise in marching. After forming in
line we
moved out a little way toward the left and rear. Our guns
were
loaded
and bayonets fixed. We each had sixty rounds of
ammunition.
We moved a little way in one direction and halted; then moved again and
halted. The night set in misty and so dark that we could not
see
except by the uncertain light of campfires and that made by burning
fuses
from shells passing overhead from both sides. Just before ten
o'clock
at night of the first, I noticed by the fitful glare of the light made
by the burning fuses of the shells, that we were close to the dark
walls
of a silent fort. This was Fort Fisher. We passed
through a
narrow opening to the left of the fort and against its wall, in the
breastworks,
just wide enough for one man, and out to the picket lines.
Moving
as still as we possibly could, yet a body of seven or eight hundred men
make some noise in walking, though we moved slow and picked each step
as
carefully as we could in the dark and rain. The mist of the
evening
had developed into a light, drizzling Virginia rain, which kept falling
nearly all night long. The rebel picket line was alert and at
every
unusual sound fired toward us and cursed and swore and abused the
Yanks.
We at once laid down and kept perfectly still. We saw the
vicious
flashes of their guns, heard the bullets cut the air about us, the thud
when they hit, and all but two or three of the officers hugged the
ground.
Sharp picket firing had been going on this place for days and the
breastworks
on both sides had been held by a strong force. The two armies
were
strongly entrenched all along the lines for miles, but our men, while
it
was expected they would attack at some point, were trying to keep the
point
of attack secret. So every noise on our side was magnified by
the
enemy
into an assault, so when we made any noise their whole force manned
their
works and began firing at us savagely as long as there was any
possibility
in their minds of there being any force there other than the picket
line.
They had the range and if we were standing their fire would have got a
good many of us, and as it was we lost a number of men during the
fusillade.
We lay flat on the ground in the darkness and the rain from about ten
o'clock
for an hour and a half. The firing upon us gradually
ceased.
Those it made no outcry. No other noise than the thud of the
bullets
when they struck the victims. Two soldiers with a stretcher
would
noiselessly lay the man shot upon it and carry him away. All
those
hit, whether killed or wounded, were removed at once.
A mistake
had been made when we moved out through the breastworks. We
passed
our left in front and when we faced the enemy the rear of the regiment
was in front, so about midnight a whispered order was passed along the
line, we got up and fell in, formed in rank, and changed front or
countermarched.
Although we were as still as we could be, yet the little noise we made
roused the Johnnies again and they again began to shoot us.
As
soon
as we were right in front we laid down again. In lying down
we
broke
ranks and this time I laid down just in front of Lieutenant Squires of
Company G, from Black River Falls. The rebels shot more
accurately
this time and we lost more men. I felt the air cut by a
bullet
which
passed over me and struck the lieutenant; a flesh wound in the lower
part
of his body. He yelled, jumped up and ran the whole length of
the
regiment and fell and they put him on a stretcher and carried him to
the
rear. The noise of the lieutenant aroused the whole rebel
line
opposite
and gave them our location. They fired on us a continuous
rattling
volley of musketry and yelled and yelled. The anguishing
screams
of the wounded lieutenant made them cheer, laugh, damn us and fire at
us
with all their might. They hit a number of our men, but the
others
did not cry out. We hugged the ground closer than before if
possible.
The surface sloped slightly downward toward the enemy and we moved
ahead
a little to be on a lower level and laid perfectly still while the
bullets
pounded the earth and cut the air about us. About two o'clock
the
firing upon us gradually slackened and finally ceased
altogether.
About 2:30 a.m., of April 2, we carefully and silently got to our feet
and stood ready, each man a little way from his fellow
waiting.
The
rain had almost ceased to fall. We were waiting for the order
or
signal to charge. Our feeling was intense. Nothing
could be
seen in front. We knew nothing of the obstacles in our
way.
We knew that when the big gun in Fort Fisher behind us spoke that we
must
charge the unseen enemy and kill or subdue them or die in the effort.
Just before
three o'clock the Johnnies had quieted down and ceased yelling and
shooting
at us. At three o'clock in the morning of April 2, the big
gun in
Fort Fisher was fired. We went in carrying our guns any way,
every
man paying no attention to what was being said or done by the rest; all
charging upon the black darkness ahead. We cleared the space
from
where we waited, some hundred yards to the rebel breastworks, tore
openings
through the abattis and were upon their breastworks as quick as we
could
run there, but not quick enough to avoid a shot from every rebel who
could
get his gun and get to the works. A number of our men were
killed
and wounded, about fifty altogether. We surprised the
enemy.
After they shot the lieutenant and his yelling with pain caused the
commotion
at near midnight, we kept so still that they thought they had shot one
of our pickets and so they had all turned in excepting the guard when
we
made the rush. Most of those we got when we went over the
works
were
dressed only in their shirts and drawers. When I went over
the
works
a Johnnie laid in his shirt and drawers only. He had dropped
on
his
knees and fallen over on his back, his head turned to one side, a good
looking, strong, well built man, arms thrown out, his gun on his right
arm, a bloody, ragged hole in his shirt just over the heart,
dead.
He was the first dead man I saw that day. A smouldering camp
fire
close by may have made the sight more impressive and the reason why I
remember
it so well, for I saw a great many men killed before the day was done,
but none other made such a distinct impression upon me. The
point
where our regiment struck and captured the enemy's line of works was
much
lower than on both the right and left, the bottom of a small
valley.
The land was clear for eighty rods or more from their works to the
timber
in the rear. In our line of works both to the right and left,
at
the top of this valley and about eighty rods apart, were two
forts.
The bottom of the valley where we went in happened to be the point of
least
resistance. We made so much noise and our line was extended
so
long
and we went with such a rush that though the line swung around and
struck
theirs end on, yet they must have thought the entire army was upon
them.
After the short resistance we drove them into the timber and our
regiment
was right after them. My strength gave out and after we got
inside
their lines and most of the boys pursued the retreating Johnnies, I,
with
a few others, staid there at the works. Fires flared up all
along
the lines and the rain ceased about us. Most of the light,
however,
was from the flash of musketry and artillery. Then it
appeared
that
lines were waiting ready, back at our picket lines, the outcome of our
assault, and when our regiment went in and drove the rebels at this
point
then there was no occasion for concealment and fires burned everywhere
and especially to our right and left. Other members of the
regiment
who did not chase the enemy gathered about me; some of Company
K.
They came over the breastworks and our force rapidly
increased.
There
was no commissioned officer with us at first.
The flames
shooting from the muskets and the two cannon in the fort to our right,
and the screams of those shot, the angry yells of the attacking force
and
those defending, made the battle there fierce and hand to
hand.
Our
forces in front of the fort were wavering; when I called to our men to
attack the fort on the flank and in the rear. We sent a man
over
to those in front and we attacked with a rush and yells, shooting as we
charged. Just before we reached the fort, the Johnnies ran
and
the
force in front went in the fort with a rush. Just then the
attack
on the fort across the valley to the left, about eighty rods, began to
develop. The Johnnies were working their one gun to the
limit.
The flash of musketry showed that there was a large force of infantry
in
there and that they were all fighting with frenzy. Because of
the
darkness, I could not see the line of men attacking the fort, but the
flashes
of their guns showed it to be a large body and that it was attacking
and
was within gunshot of the fort. I pointed out to those with
me
the
fight going on at the fort across the valley and told them that we must
go across the valley and help. We rushed down the slope, more
men
joining us on the way, among whom was a captain of one of the companies
of our regiments, with his naked sword in his hand, wild and excited,
not
knowing what to do. I told him to put up his sword; that he
could
not do anything with that; to pick up a gun and some cartridges and
come
along, we were going to attack that fort up there on the
left.
The
ground was strewn with guns and cartridge boxes, and he at once armed
himself
and came along. The wall of the fort on the flank where we
attacked
was ten to twelve feet high from the bottom of the ditch to the top,
the
side steep and sloping. I told the men that we would run up
the
wall
with our loaded guns ready, point the muzzle down inside held at arm's
length above our leads and fire and run down in the ditch, load and run
up and fire again as fast as possible. We attacked in this
way
and
looked sharp for any of them who would dare to show himself.
We
made
noise enough for a thousand men. By the cries of pain from
inside
the fort, I knew that an occasional shot of ours was hitting.
The
army attacking in front was pushing its force close to the fort, when
cry
for quarter came from the fort to us. It told them to throw
down
their arms, put up their hands and come over and surrender.
They
ceased firing; part of them ran away and some of them came out and
surrendered
to us.
We were
in possession of over a mile of the enemy's works, including two forts
and three pieces of artillery and a squad of prisoners in immediate
charge
of the men that were with me. The battle had begun to rage
off to
our left a half mile away in which large bodies of men were
fighting.
It was an attack on the rebel line. The Fifth Wisconsin had
not
yet
returned from the timber into which it chased the enemy. I
wanted
to hold our prisoners until the regiment returned. Some of
the
men
with me wanted to shoot them. The prisoners were
scared. I
would not stand for shooting them or typing them, but tried to get a
guard
of volunteers to take them to the rear and deliver them to the provost
guards. No one would volunteer, so I decided to take them to
the
rear myself.
On the
afternoon of April 2, 1865, after the enemy had been drive out of their
works to the left, and forced back toward Petersburg, and after
numerous
battles were fought, in none of which we were called upon to take part,
a rebel battery in a grove on a high place inside the enemy's lines was
shelling the Union forces. Its fire was disastrous.
The
gunners
were very active and their fire accurate. The Fifth Wisconsin
was
ordered to charge that battery and drive them out or capture
them.
From where we were to reach the battery we had to move across an open
field
of rolling or undulating surface. The regiment moved out in
columns
of fours. My feet had become so lame that I could not keep
up.
The regiment followed depression for protection.
Its course
was zigzag, always going nearer to the battery. I told the
colonel
that my feet were so lame that I could not keep up and so I would go
straight
toward the battery, which I did. As soon as the battery saw
that
the regiment was bearing down upon it, it directed its fire against the
regiment. I went across higher ground and nearer the battery
than
the regiment and clearly saw them both. The first shell they
fired
went over the regiment, struck the ground beyond and
exploded.
They
depressed the gun, and the second shell struck the ground near me,
bounded
above the regiment also, went in the ground beyond and
exploded.
Both shells tore great holes in the earth. The third shot got
the
range of the regiment and struck a man in the shoulder and ranged
through
the file of four men, literally tearing them to pieces. The
regiment
charged the battery at double quick and it limbered up and went off at
a gallop toward Petersburg to another high point and opened on us again
just as we reached the ground where they were. A few shells
exploded
over us, but we were not touched. About four o'clock the army
was
formed in line of battle at right angles to the rebel works and as soon
as formed, the left extending for half a mile inside those works and
the
right far beyond them, towards the Union works, the Fifth Wisconsin
near
the left, a general advance towards Petersburg was begun. I
took
my place in the ranks, though I was suffering excruciating pain in my
feet.
We moved slowly forward until about six o'clock, when we halted for the
night, the whole line resting with arms at hand or lying on their arms
all night.
Guards
were detailed for camp and picket duty and the men of the regiment laid
down utterly exhausted and slept with guns loaded and ready by their
sides.
I could not sleep, so I volunteered as guard and was placed in charge
of
both camp and picket. Towards night the commander of our
brigade
was detailed to serve as a member of a court martial and our colonel
being
the next in rank took command of the brigade. At six o'clock
that
night he was detailed as general officer of the day for the army and
reported
at headquarters, where plans for the night were completed and he was
charged
to execute them. By virtue of his position as general officer
of
the day, he was, while holding that position, in command of the
army.
He rode along the entire line, followed by a long retinue of aides and
orderlies, giving instructions to the several commanders, and back to
headquarters.
The camp guards were posted, the pickets were also posted and each
picket
post sent out a vidette. While I was trying to rest and after
dark
(no lights were permitted along the line) the colonel came down from
headquarters
on foot wearing the big red sash over his right shoulder, across his
breast
and ends crossing on his left side, the insignia of his rank as general
officer of the day. He asked me who was in charge of the
camp.
I told him I was. He said that he was completely exhausted
and
could
not keep up any longer; that although it was contrary to the rules for
him to sleep while on duty, he could not keep awake any
longer. I
told him to get a blanket and wrap up so that his sash could not be
seen
and cover his head and I would call him if there was occasion for it;
that
I could not sleep and would watch for him. He outlined his
duties
to me, gave me his password for the night, pulled off his boots and put
them under his head, rolled up in his blanket and covered up so
completely
that he could not be distinguished from any one else lying
there.
I jammed the bayonet of my gun down in the ground at his head with the
butt of the gun straight up in the air as a guide and he went to sleep
and I became the substitute general officer of the day for the Army of
the Potomac, a position which a man in the ranks never held before or
since.
As soon as everything was quiet, I went down to a little stream which
ran
across our line and pulled off my shoes and stockings and sat on the
bank
with my feet in the creek for nearly two hours. This gave me
great
relief. I did this tow or three times that night and my feet
were
much better.
Near midnight
a noise as of moving bodies could be heard away out beyond the picket
line.
I went out to see about it, out to the picket posts, out beyond to the
videttes and from post to post. When away out at the front I
could
hear noises like men tramping, wheels like those of wagons and
artillery
moving. I carefully noted the direction it was
taking. I
noticed
that the noise was gradually increasing in volume, not from the cause
of
the noise coming nearer, but rather from those making the noise
increasing
in number. I went back to the regiment, woke up the general
with
some difficulty and told him that the rebels were evacuating
Petersburg;
that
they were running away. He listened a minute and said, "Let
them
go," and drew his blanket about him and went to sleep again.
So
Lee
and his army got away.
The evacuation
of Petersburg by Lee and his army, the Army of Virginia, was begun at
midnight
on the second day of April. He retreated up the Appomattox
river.
We learned soon afterwards that Richmond was also evacuated and the
whole
rebel government in full retreat.
From the beginning of hostilities the effort of the Army of the Potomac
had been to capture Richmond and drive the rebel government
out.
Every battle in the East fought by it had that purpose for its ultimate
object. The army under McClellan got almost there.
Then
Burnside
got as far as Fredericksburg. Then Hooker was stopped and
forced
back at Chancellorsville. Then Grant was stopped at the
Wilderness.
"Baldy" Smith and Butler were turned back at Petersburg and on the
James
river. In none of the many bloody battles theretofore fought,
had
the way been clear to Richmond, although many of them were among the
most
bloody in history. Bull Run, Antietam, Fredericksburg,
Chancellorsville,
Gettysburg, the battles in the Wilderness, all failed to bring about
the
fall of Richmond. They were each and all more bloody than the
second
battle of Petersburg, but by none of them was the enemy forced into a
hasty
retreat and the victorious army able to make a prompt and vigorous
pursuit.
In no other battle in Virginia had the defeat of the enemy been so
crushing
or disastrous to it that it could not control its plan of retreat and
take
the necessary steps to recover from or repair the disaster.
While
the enemy became less and less powerful at each successive battle,
whether
won or lost by it, yet if any one battle was the decisive battle of the
war, that battle was the second battle of Petersburg, for it produced
results
that no other battle accomplished, the fall of Richmond.
Early in
the morning of April 3, the army started in pursuit of Lee.
The
Fifth
Wisconsin, having been in front or first regiment to move the day
before
in the attack on Petersburg, was the last to move today.
Rations
were issued to us, including about a gill of whiskey to each
man.
I held my tin cup with the rest fro my share and all the boys knew I
did
not drink, some thought that I would divide it up among them and so I
got
rather a larger ration. My cup was nearly full, but instead
of
passing
it around, I turned it down my heels in each shoe and thereby incurred
the bitter condemnation of some of the members of the company, who had
a great liking for it. I think this was the only ration of
whiskey
issued to us while we were in the service. It was well toward
noon
when we began the march, in the rear. About the middle of the
afternoon
we halted at a small creek to fill our canteens and rest.
While
we
were scattered along the creek resting and lying stretched out on the
ground
along side the road we were traveling, Generals Grant and Meade
suddenly
rode out of the brush along the road back of us and halted at the creek
close by me in the road for a few minutes and talked with our
colonel.
Grant looked happy. The colonel congratulated him for the
great
victory
won yesterday. The general replied, waving his hand along the
regiment:
"To you and those men belongs the credit."
In the
morning of April 5 we were ordered to report to Sheridan at the front
at
once and half rations were issued to us, that is, half the usual amount
for five days, and about eight o'clock we were on our way. We
stopped
to rest five minutes every hour, half an hour at noon, half an hour at
midnight, half an hour at six o'clock in the morning of the sixth of
April,
half an hour at noon of that day, and about four o'clock in the
afternoon
we were at the front. Company K was on the extreme right of
the
regiment
and I was on the extreme right of the company and the regiment was on
the
extreme right of the line. Many of the men had fallen
out.
They could not stand the forced march. The whole number in
Company
K then in line was twenty-six men and it mustered more men than any
other
of the companies in the line of the regiment. Some of the
companies
had no more than half our number in line.
Sheridan,
with his cavalry, had brought General Ewell's corps too, and it had
been
handling him pretty rough, and he asked General Grant to send him the
Sixth
Corps in a hurry. He was being whipped. It was the
Sixth
Corps
that whipped the Johnnies at Cedar Creek, in the Shenandoah
Valley.
It was the Sixth Corps that Sheridan called for repeatedly to aid him
in
his fights down on the left of Petersburg, but Grant would not let him
have it then. It was the Sixth Corps that assaulted this same
Ewell's
corps at Mary's Heights at Fredericksburg, and the Fifth Wisconsin led
in that memorable assault and captured the heights and drove this same
army that we now faced. From the time Sheridan with his
troops,
marched
around the right of Lee's army and joined Grant's, or the Army of the
Potomac,
on the extreme left, he kept calling for the Sixth Corps. He
called
for it before the battle of Dunwiddie Court House, fought March 31, was
offered the Fifth, Warren's, but refused it. He again called
for
the Sixth Corps before the affairs at Five Forks and Bradley
Run.
He told Grant that he could break in the enemy's right if he had the
Sixth
Corps. General Grant told him that the Sixth Corps could not
be
taken
from its position in the line, and offered him the Second.
Sheridan's
campaign with his cavalry and the Sixth Corps in the Shenandoah Valley
had been very successful, so when his cavalry was put back near
Sailor's
creek, he had again asked for the Sixth Corps, and by Grant's
direction,
it was sent him. In the note Grant wrote to Sheridan, he
said,
"The
Sixth Corps will go in with a vim any place you may dictate."
So
Sheridan sent word to Wright, commanding the corps, to hurry, and he
says
that "The gallant corps came up as fast as legs could carry
them."
Wheaton's men (the Fifth Wisconsin was one of Wheaton's regiments) came
up all hot and out of breath and promptly formed for the attack, and
while
the whole line promptly attacked the enemy and fought the battle of
Sailor's
Creek, which Sheridan called one of the severest conflicts of the
war.
He said that it has never been accorded the prominence it is entitled
to,
because it was overshadowed by the stirring events of the surrender of
Lee three days later. It resulted in the capture of six
generals
and from nine to ten thousand prisoners.
To our left,
rapidly forming into line, was the first division of the Sixth
Corps.
Before us was the valley of Sailor's Creek; the creek was at the bottom
of the valley, about 80 rods from us; we were formed on the edge of the
hill, which dropped down to a freshly plowed field, which extended to
the
creek. On the other side of the creek, the land was more
broken
and
rough with scattering timber to a Virginia rail fence, about 40 rods
from
the creek in the edge of the timber. Behind the rail fence,
with
guns pointing our way, was Ewell's corps, extending in a long line,
both
to right and left out of sight. It was 4 o'clock in the
afternoon
when Company K took its place on the right of the line, the officers
all
being present. Captain Hall, Lieutenant Colonel Bull, who
commanded
the regiment, were in a group at my right; General Wheaton, our
division
commander, was in the group at my right, discussing the plan of
battle.
General Wheaton stated that the plan was, as soon as a line of battle
was
finally formed and the men had got their breaths, to advance the whole
line and attack the enemy where it lay. After General Wheaton
outlined
his plan of attack, our colonel urged him to send in the Fifth
Wisconsin
against that line of rebels alone. Wheaton refused, then with
tears
running down his face, the colonel urged the officers to let us go; he
said we could whip them alone. The colonel was so earnest and
begged
so hard, that General Wheaton finally, with reluctance, consented,
saying
to one of his aides that they would send troops in to support
them.
We were required to charge a line of nearly 20,000 desperate men, armed
to kill, across an open plain with no kind of a shelter and no
protection.
We loaded our guns and fixed bayonets and all the commissioned officers
and surgeons took their regular places in a charge in the rear and we
moved
forward in double line. We were ordered to cross the creek,
deploy
in a single line, each man about two feet from his fellow, and to lie
down
until the order was given to charge and then to jump to our feet and
rush
the enemy's line with all our might. The band played and
filled
the
valley with its music; there was no levity among us. We
marched
with
our guns on our shoulders toward the creek and the enemy beyond, down
across
the plowed field until we were near the creek, when a few of the enemy
began to shoot at us and wounded two or three men. The line
wavered
and became crooked and some of the men lagged. Lieutenant
Colonel
Bull, in command, halted the regiment, came forward to the head of the
line where I stood and right dressed the line. As the men
formed
in line again in the face of a fusillade from the enemy, and a great
cheer
from the Union line, we again moved forward and plunged into the
yellow,
rapidly flowing water of Sailor's creek, which was about hip deep and a
rod wide, and hurried across. Volleys from the whole rebel
line
were
fired into us while we were in the creek. It got several
men.
We dropped down and hugged the earth as close as we could while they
fired
into us and kept up all the time the terrible "rebel yell."
We
laid
just long enough to get our breath when Colonel Bull passed the word
along
the line that when the order was given to charge, not to try to keep in
line, but every man rush to the top of his speed and fight for his life
and yell. At the command, we jumped up and rushed for the
enemy,
yelling and firing, every man frenziedly fighting for his
life.
We
ran against a terrible storm of bullets, men dropping as they
ran.
Those of us not hit rushed on over the crest of the slope and down at
the
rebels. There could be but one or two results from our
charge; we
must drive them or they must destroy us. As we charged down
that
slope at them, mad and firing and yelling, the whole rebel line in our
front and near flanks gave way and started to retreat; they got but a
rod
or two from the barricade when some of them, their officers and men,
yelled
at each other: "What are you scared at, there is only a few
of
them,"
and they jumped back to the fence and began again to shoot at us more
desperately
than ever. In our charge, Company K had swerved off to the
right;
the general movement of the regiment was in that direction; the
exposure
was not quite so bad, but absolutely deadly everywhere, and just at
this
time I found myself among the men of Company B. Every man
about
me
was down and I got down. Up to this time I had not fired a
shot.
I tried to shoot, snapped my gun several times, but it hung
fire.
There were none left for the Johnnies to shoot at, for most of those
down
were shot down, and those of us lying down for safety, took care to
keep
very still. The ground all around me was littered with guns,
and
as I could not fire my own, I dropped it and selected a good looking
one
from those on the ground, and loaded it. Firing upon us by
the
enemy
slackened. The Second Rhode Island were sent in by General
Wheaton
on the double quick to our relief, and that diverted attention from
us.
A group of Johnny officers were talking off to the left behind their
line,
and I tried my new found gun on them. I aimed at a man in the
group
and fired; there was a scream of pain, consoling words by others in the
group not to mind, the shot was not serious. A yell from the
line,
an angry order from an officer, "Shoot the d__n Yankee _______," and a
fire in my direction, it seemed to me, of a hundred guns. I
have
never been able to understand why I was not hit by that fire.
I
felt
the bullets cut the air about me; I got back a piece behind a tree, for
I realized the danger I was in. In looking about me, I saw
Captain
Hall, the only officer there on the field. Our colonel came
up,
his
feelings all cut up over the drubbing we got and crying like a
child.
The entire regiment with their colors was captured by the Johnnies and
recaptured later by the Thirty-seventh Massachusetts. Over 80
per
cent of the rank and file of the Fifth Wisconsin that moved down across
the plowed field and attacked the enemy were killed or
wounded.
The
charge from the creek until we were -- done up -- lasted about five
minutes.
Nineteen of the twenty-six in line in Company K were hit, and it
suffered
less than any other company in the regiment. Every man in
Company
B, among whom I found myself, was shot. I alone
escaped.
Our
colors were saved, but every man in the color guard was hit.
The
artillery had shelled the enemy when they repulsed us and captured the
Second Rhode Island and then the whole line charged the Johnnies and
drove
them. Stragglers from the regiment kept coming in after the
battle.
Some of us remained and gathered up our dead and buried them and helped
pick up the wounded. The company moved off with the balance
of
the
regiment after the retreating enemy and we laid down and slept till
morning.
This battle was not ended and the enemy in full retreat until night set
in. Sheridan, in reference to the defense put up by the enemy
to
our attack, says that they fought like tigers. The result of
the
battle of Sailor's Creek was the capture of Rebel Generals Ewell,
Kershaw,
Barton, Corse, Dubose and Curtis Lee, and about 9,000 to 10,000
prisoners.
Another result quite as important was cutting off Lee's retreat south
to
join Johnston, and driving his army across the Appomattox river toward
Appomattox Court House.
The Sixth
Corps had proved to the enemy by the bloody battle of Sailor's Creek
that
it was able and in position to prevent the rebel army from retreating
south
without exhausting its entire strength to defeat us. The
victory
and the capture of most of Ewell's corps by us had released the cavalry
from its embarrassed position, and Sheridan again at once placed it
across
the enemy's line of retreat. The cavalry moved out in the
right
after
the battle was over and part of the Sixth Corps was sent out also to
support
it. This force was fairly across the enemy's line of retreat
and
it had either to turn north, cross the Appomattox river and get that
stream
between its army and us or fight another pitched battle at
once.
Fighting was on all the time, day and night, but the opposing forces
were
moving on both sides, the enemy in retreat and our troops
pursuing.
The sound of the rattling fire of musketry kept up during the night
after
the battled and kept moving away toward the west. The Fifth
Wisconsin
moved out in the rear of the Sixth Corps very early in the
morning.
Stragglers, members of the regiment, both officers and men, who were
unable
to keep pace with its two days' and nights' continuous forced march to
take part in the battle, kept coming up until, when the pursuit of the
enemy began after the battle was over, most of them were with the
regiment.
In helping to bury the dead and care for the wounded I became separated
from the company and was not with it when it marched with the regiment,
and about a dozen of us started out to join the army next morning,
without
rations. The sound of musketry had turned from west to north
and
was moving in a northerly direction, miles away from us. We
started
toward the sound of firing, across the country the shortest way, not
following
the line of march of the army, keeping together as protection against
guerillas
and bushwhackers and looking for something to eat. We sighted
a
mansion
surrounded by fields and negro quarters and other buildings.
We
cautiously
reconnoitered and found that the place was not guarded. We
went
there
and asked for enough food to last us until we overtook the army, which
we offered to pay for. They told us there was not a mouthful
of
food
on the place. The woman and two or three younger children,
were
sitting
together on the porch and lying on the floor of the porch in their
midst
was a young man, the son, bleeding from several wounds he received the
night or day before, suffering. His father and mother showed
the
anguish they felt and the children sat quietly, tears running down
their
faces. They expected if they did not provide us with food
that we
would burn their buildings. We put our pickets to guard
against
surprise
and began a search. In a store-room filled, as they said,
with
empty
barrels, we found a barrel of flour at the bottom of the
pile.
One
man found a pail of lard in the basement. Two or three chased
down
a few chickens that had been overlooked by former raiders and we had
the
old negro mammy cook some frying flapjacks and chicken.
Artillery
and musketry sound off the northwest was very heavy. We each
took
a portion of flour and piece of friend chicken and moved fast toward
the
sound of the guns and overtook the regiment at Farmville, on the
Appomattox.
The Johnnies
had crossed the river at Farmville and fired the bridge and made a
stand
there, but our men had charged and drove them out and put out the
fire.
The Fifth Wisconsin took no part in that skirmish. Up to the
beginning
of the war, Farmville was said to be the largest primary tobacco market
in the world. There were huge warehouses there filled with
all
kinds
of manufactured tobacco when the troops hit the town. The
troops
halted there for a while and when we struck the town, just after our
regiment
had come up, the streets were literally carpeted with pig tails, twist,
plug and other styles of tobacco. The lovers of the weed were
in
the seventh heaven. Davis, of Company K, emptied all his
clothes
from his knapsack and filled every inch of it with tobacco, making a
load
that staggered him, but he was one of the happiest men in the army for
a while. Some of the buildings were set on fire and
destroyed.
The continued pounding by the cavalry of the outskirts of Lee's army
was
crowding it en masse, and we were put in motion again. By
rapid
marches
were pushed across his front, or on the south side, of his troops, in
line
of battle on April 9, 1865, in the edge of timber with a wide open
field
between us and his army. We stacked arms and with broken
ranks
were
right by our guns, ready in an instant for any movement of the enemy,
which
we knew was just beyond the timber across the field in front.
We
all realized that the critical time was at hand; that the only chance
for
the enemy to escape was to break our line; that his escape meant aid
for
Johnston and the defeat of Sherman. Cheers came ringing down
the
line
and with them word that Lee had surrendered. This report was
premature,
but for the time it set the army wild. The report was soon
contradicted,
but later in the day another report came that he had surrendered, and
this
proved to be true.
After the surrender of General Lee we marched back to Burksville Junction and went into camp, from whence we expected to be transferred to Washington to take part in the grand review, plans for which were begun. We had hardly gone into camp when the report came that President Lincoln, his cabinet and General Grant had been assassinated. The report had a peculiar effect on the troops. The Sixth Corps continued under the separate command of General Sheridan from the time it was sent to him by Grant to help him out of the hole that Ewell had him in at Sailor's Creek, and he was now doing his to be allowed to go to Washington so that he could ride at the head of his army in the grand review, but General Grant ordered otherwise. The terms that Johnston had gotten from Sherman for the surrender of the army was not satisfactory, and Sheridan, with the Sixth Corps and his cavalry, was ordered south. The march to Danville was a forced march, the only incident of special note on the march were the extraordinary beauty of Southern Virginia, across which we passed. We had scarcely reached Danville when Johnston surrendered on the same terms given Lee, and the effect of our march was completed. After Johnston's surrender, the Fifth Wisconsin did guard duty on the Southern railroad, guarding Confederate government property, which was being gathered up and shipped, generally to Washington. After the property had been shipped we were marched to Washington by the way of Richmond and Fredericksburg. We marched to Arlington Heights and camped there. We were impatient to be mustered out and go home, but we had to remain there until the accounts of the officers and men with the government were squared. Finally an officer came over from Washington and condemned our tents, guns and accoutrements. After remaining in camp at Arlington for some time, we were finally ordered home.
J. F. Ellis.