SEVENTEENTH CONNECTICUT

The Record of a Yankee Regiment

IN THE WAR FOR THE UNION

From the Journal of William H. Warren, Private, of Co. C

 

No. 5-ON TO WASHINGTON

 

 

Our camp in Baltimore was on open ground in front of Fort Marshall. The fort was occupied by the Fifth New York regiment of heavy artillery. Its guard-house and sutler's shops were outside the earthwork, and both of them were more or less patronized by our regiment, although not, of course, with an equal relish. Although the two regiments were within a few feet of each other there was not much intercourse between them. Regiments are clannish, and companies are clannish.

 

It does not seem possible that ten companies of men can live in the small compass of a regimental camp even for a few days and not know each other, and yet three years together keep each company perfectly distinct, and find many of the regiment unacquainted with each other. Of course comrades find chums outside of their own companies as persons due affinites outside of their families, but there are exceptions to the rule.

 

The days passed monotonously with drill, fatigue work, and guard duty.

 

The first death in our company took place on Thursday, October 2nd. The comrade was Charles Small, aged twenty-six years. He went into the hospital six days before his death, stricken with what is called the "Baltimore fever" a combination of typhoid fever with other disorders. The remains were embalmed at the expense of the company and sent on to Danbury. Comrade Small was of a lively temperament, and was very popular in the company. He was buried in Danbury with military honors. The funeral took place in the Methodist church, Rev. Mr. Crawford preaching the sermon.

 

On Wednesday, October 15th, we received orders to be up at 4 a.m. next morning to make ready for a move. Prompt to the hour the drum corps of the regiment marched through the company streets playing with the enthusiasm the well known air, "The Girl I Left Behind Me." It was an early hour to turn out, but the prospect of a move was welcome as a change. Had we been able to look forward we would not have heard this music with rejoicing.

 

As we struck tents the rubbish that had accumulated, such as board floor and bedsteads, was gathered into piles and set on fire, and, uniting hands, we danced jubilantly around the flames, as so many rejoicing Indians might be supposed to do. At 8 o'clock Colonel Noble gave the orders:

"Shoulder arms! By sections right wheel, march."

 

The drum corps of the Fifth New York escorted us into the city, and to the Baltimore and Ohio railway station, where we took a freight train for Washington.

 

A kitten belonging to the drum corps rode on the knapsack of one of the men, through the city, as content as if it was back of a kitchen stove. It excited considerable attention and comment from the people along the line of march. At the station we found a large concourse of people to see us off. Many of them had bunches of flowers which they gave to the regiment. The Baltimore people liked the Seventeenth, as our boys, when in the city, invariably behaved themselves. We left the Monumental City at twenty-five minutes past one o'clock of that day. As the train moved away it was greeted by cheers from the people assembled.

 

The cars were loaded. The load was greater than the cars and many of us rode on the roofs. I was one of the number, and was glad it was so, as it gave me an opportunity to see the country. At the Relay House, or Washington junction, where the road separated, a part running to Washington and a part to West Virginia, our train was delayed a half hour waiting for a train from Washington to pass us. When the war broke out this place was guarded by the Union forces to prevent transportation to Washington and Harper's Ferry. One hour's ride brought us to Annapolis junction, where we waited until all the regular trains went by so to give us a free track. At this junction we met General Burnside, who was on a train going north. We flocked to see him. In response to our call he came out to the platform of his car and made us a speech. What we noticed particularly about him was that he wore a hickory shirt, with a long black neckerchief loosely tied at his throat.

 

We arrived in Washington at 9 o'clock in the evening, and were given a supper at the "Soldiers Retreat". We were then marched to a barrack near by where we bunked for the night.

 

The next morning we were marched to Tenallytown, a suburb of Washington. The following extract from the Connecticut history of the war is of interest in this connection:

 

"While the contest for Maryland was going on at Antietam the Seventeenth Connecticut remained at Fort Marshall menacing the rebels of Baltimore. When the excitement subsided Colonel Noble asked the authorities at Washington that the regiment might be permitted to join General Sigel's corps, according to previous understanding. General Wool was much incensed, and instead of this it was ordered to Tenallytown, and put to work entrenching a hill that was afterward known as Fort Kearney, in the northward defenses of Washington."

 

We were marched to the other side of Tenallytown and took a camp just vacated by the 138th New York. Here we arrived at 3 p.m.; had supper of bread and coffee shortly after, and went to bed early.

 

October 18th we moved our tents a short distance. No duty, only guard. The weather was warm through the day, but cold at night.

 

October 19th P.T. Barnum brought General Tom Thumb and Commodore Nutt to our camp. Everybody flocked to see the midgets. The great showman made us a speech on temperance, and the midgets sang for us. It was an agreeable break in our camp life.

 

Our camp was called after Nellie Seward, daughter of the secretary of state. It was reported that our regiment was to be turned into heavy artillery. Reports of an equally starting nature were common to all camps throughout the war. It was not known who originated them, or how they were suggested; but they were nearly always false. In this case the report was probably suggested to some wag by the earth digging we were required to do to make Fort Kearney, which digging he seriously objected to, and which toll he relieved by perpetrating this yarn.

 

In view of our many moves in this camp, the following, written by George S. Purdy, of Company C, is appropriate:

 

"War is a curious affair. Besides being very curious it is very disagreeable because there is no dependence to be placed on it. One day you are here, and the next day you are there, and the following day you are somewhere else. You get to a place, pitch your tent, and conclude to arrange more comfortable quarters. At great trouble you put up a wood work and a chimney, over which you have done considerable loud talking. You finish all the preparations in time to hear the order to fall in and move on."

 

Here is an incident that illustrates a phase of camp life. A few rods from out camp a sutler who sells better stock at cheaper rates than does our sutler. And we patronized him liberally. Our sutler got mad at this and complained to the "officer of the day", who had the regimental guard placed between our sulter and this one. As we could not pass the guard line without a permit, this shut us out from trading with the other man. Of course the act made us mad, and we would not trade with our man at all. When this state of things came to the knowledge of our colonel the guard line was changes to its original position.

 

 

 

No. 6-GOING INTO VIRGINIA.

 

Saturday, October 25th, Archibald Cromms, of Company I, died. At dusk the same day Colonel Noble was injured by falling into one of the regiment's artistic rifle pits. His arm was badly hurt. Shortly after Lieut. Col. Walters was riding horseback in the city when his horse stumbled and threw him. He was seriously hurt by the fall, and the horse was killed.

 

Walters was a German, very quick tempered, but a pretty thorough officer. He was a heavy built man, with a fair face.

 

Elias Johnson, of Company B, died on the 26th of October.

 

The men of the regiment were doing considerable growling at this time. They entered service to kill rebels (they claimed) and not to dig trenches. Several times they rebelled openly against being detached for this work, and the officers threatened to punish them, but no punishment of any importance was afflicted. When they had been in the service some time longer they did the duty they were called to without any open mutterings. Through the days they dug earth, and at nights they sat about the fires and told stories and sang songs.

 

The night of October 26th a violent rainstorm set in, and all through the night and pretty much all of the next day the rain fell in torrents. Our tent houses were in many cases swamped, and in such a disordered state were the companies at reveille that the roll call was dispensed with. This was the severest storm we had experienced, and it effectually dampened the ardor of all, while many it thoroughly demoralized. A sample of the raw state of discipline in the regiment was given today. Myself and tent mates started to build a more substantial house, in which we could have a fire. While we were at work the colonel came along and asked us what we were doing. We told him. "There is no use of it," he said, "I can't have you shifting around like this." One of us answered: "You have your comforts, and we want ours." "Don't talk to me like that. I have no fire in my tent yet." With that he went away. We did not like what he said, and one of our group suggested we load our guns and go to the colonel and demand our rights. It sounds real silly now, to look back on such talk, but we were in dead earnest. The colonel ought to have spanked us. Shortly after we backed out of building the hut.

 

Digging and growling filled up the time until the 30th, when the report came that we were to move the next morning. It was said we were going to Centreville, Va., to join General Sigel's corps. The members of the regiment received this news with rejoicing. They paraded through the company streets, singing and throwing their caps in the air. About this time the dissatisfaction with the regimental sutler had grown so great that the foreign sutler whom we were now patronizing said he would go with us into Virginia if we would agree to patronize him. We promised him our trade so long as he continued to sell at the reasonable prices he was now supplying us at. There was quite a contrast between his prices and our sutler's. For instance, pies which our sutler asked twenty cents for he sold for eight cents. This was remarkably cheap, even for army pies.

 

November 1st, Major Brady joined the regiment and took command while Col. Noble and Lieut. Col. Walter were recovering from their injuries.

 

At 4 o'clock Monday morning, Nov. 3rd, the reveille was sounded through all the company streets, and before daylight we had breakfast. At 9 o'clock we had marched to the dock at Georgetown, where we took the steamer, Martha Washington, and sailed to Alexandria.

 

At 6 o'clock that evening we left the depot in Alexandria and marched to Camp Parole in the suburbs of Alexandria, where we stayed for the night. In the morning we marched to the station of the U.S. military railway. Company D, First Connecticut cavalry escorted us. Here we took cars for Manassas Junction where we arrived in the middle of the afternoon. In going to the train in Alexandria we passed a large brick building on which was the following sign:

 

"PRICE, BURG & BROTHERS,

DEALERS IN SLAVES."

 

At the junction we stacked arms, received two days rations, and began arrangements for supper and the night.

 

In a very short time two or three hundred fires were blazing, and over them innumerable small kettles were cooking coffee and pork. After supper we drew our blankets about us and went to sleep.

 

Manassas junction was a revelation to us. It was our first glimpse of the horrors of war. Heretofore we had seen only camps. Now we were looking upon a scene of military ruin. There were two miles of Federal cars, burned to the track by the enemy. They had been full of provision for our army, but fell into the hands of the Confederates, who, after robbing them of all they could carry away, fired them.

 

There were broken guns, dismantled gun carriages, bayonets, accoutrements and cannon balls scattered over the plain. And among these were the bodies of men who lay as they had fallen in the struggle, and with them the carcasses of horses and mules who had also perished here. It was a ghastly sight. A few weeks before this was a comfortable little village with a government bake-shop, whose ovens were seen in ruins.

 

At one o'clock we took up a line of march for Centreville. Two miles on the road the order was countermanded and the column was started for Gainesville, fifteen or sixteen miles to the north

of Manassas. In this march we passed over the battlefields of the first and second Bull Run. The evidences of the struggle were startling and numerous. There were quantities of cannon-balls, shells, parts of cannon, broken wheels, haversacks, canteens and clothing. Of another and very ghastly feature of this ground, Captain Daniels-then first lieutenant of Company C-writes as follows:

 

"After a while we reached the battlefield of the second Bull Run where the dead had only a few shovelfuls of earth thrown over them; some with a hand out, some a foot, others with the earth washed off from their heads. Well, the boys had a lot of grim fun over them. The ones with hands uncovered were waiting for the paymaster, those with feet out wanted to kick the commissary for not furnishing rations, those with faces out were waiting for reveille. Broken guns, old cartridge boxes and all kinds of army supplies were everywhere. One sight that made a lasting impression on me was a man's leg hanging in a bush, all withered and black. One of our boys thought it would be well to take it along as some as us might lose one and then it would come in handy. We then came to the first Bull Run battlefield, and on the exact ground where the old Third charged and captured a battery. Captain Moore had been Captain of Company C in that regiment and I had been corporal. We stood on the exact spot where the orderly sergeant, Marsh, was killed. A shell took off both legs. The look of agony on his face will never be forgotten by me. The house the old Third had used for a hospital was on fire over to the left. Captain Moore cried as if his heart would break. A few rods beyond we crossed the old stone bridge over which we had retreated in the third. Some half mile further on we camped in some old rebel camp made of log huts. This was the exact ground on which the old Third had camped for three days before the battle. You can imagine that Captain Moore and myself were full of past recollections."

 

Bordering a portion of the battle plain was a piece of wood which shot and shell had transformed from its normal condition into a piece of curiosity. In the storm of shot and shell the trees had been cut into innumerable shapes.

 

I am reminded by this march of an incident that occurred thereon which shows that in war the battle is not always to the strong nor the race always to the swift. There was a member of Company K who was a giant. He was six feet, four and three-quarters of an inch in his stockings. There was another member of the company who weighed but eighty pounds. It was almost a daily custom of the giant, to show his strength, to lift the little man in the air on his hand. And yet the giant broke down on this march, and had to fall out, and shortly after was discharged for disability. The eighty pound soldier served through the three years, successfully enduring all the hardships of camp and march.

 

At 7 o'clock in the evening of November 5th, we arrived at Gainesville, and pitched camp in a field. Here we drew shelter tents. Each man had a square yard of canvas. Two men formed the tent by combining their pieces, stretching them over a center piece (about four feet high), in the shape of a letter A. There were a row of buttons on one piece, and holes on the other, and the two were united over the cross piece in the centre by buttoning them. The loose ends were fastened to the ground with pegs. Two men could lay under this tent with some degree of comfort, by lying close, but they could hardly sit up in under it, and in case of rain (unless they had taken the precaution to make a bank ditch around the structure) they were pretty sure to wake up in a puddle.

 

 

[Return to top] [Return to Previous Page] [Go to Next Page]