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In most decent reenacting groups there's an emphasis on drill, particularly the basics of maintaining a decently straight line while advancing. Most of us know that trying to do this at the double quick is nearly impossible, but many of us keep trying to get the guys to stay aligned anyway. Nothing gets drillhead reenactors more annoyed than seeing the line dissolve into a mass of disorganized men.
Of course, these things happened a lot in the Civil War, and we can probably post a number of first-person examples here about it. That said, here's the one that fell under my eye this morning, prompting this thread:
The following account is from the Batavia, New York Republican Advocate newspaper of June 21, 1864. The account is of one of my favorite regiments, the Eighth New York Heavy Artillery, of their big and bloody charge at Cold Harbor on June 3, 1864. I have bolded some text that illustrates the point I'm making in the first paragraph, above. Text in brackets (also italicized) are my editorial remarks. This:"...." denotes where I removed some text.
The morning was chilly, cloudy and dark. We were awakened and had just time to sling on our things, when the order for "charge" came, and the 8th [New York Heavy Artillery] - twelve hundred [the regiment had nearly 1600 in its ranks but one or two companies were detached that morning] - instantly, bravely, and freely mounted and were over our works, with arms at a trail, bayonets fixed, and on the "double quickstep." Order was tolerably persevered, but in our company there was a tendency to crowd to the right, and it was more like a crowd or rabble (being sometimes six or eight deep) than two ranks as There should have been... We had orders in no case to fire until the command was given, and we all knew it would be useless to do so until we mounted their works. The moment we mounted our works a deadly, sweeping fire was opened upon us from thousands of muskets, as well as a few batteries. The men began to fall before we got twenty feet from our works, and there was two hundred rods [from my research, this regiment had to cover nearly a half-mile to get to the Confederate line; the fire they encountered at the outset was probably from Confederate pickets] to pass over before we got to their works, and almost all the way we would be exposed. On, on we went – the double-quick turned into a run. This kept up until we were too tired to go faster than a brisk step; for the distance was so great, and the ground so uneven and muddy, that we soon tired out. We kept on at the same pace, until some of the most advanced reached the rebel parapet; but of all that started not more than one third reached there [the Confederate line]. And what could they do? Nothing but die, and those who had not fallen took refuge in rifle-pits. – this was the maneuver of our company and I think the others were similar, and the casualties about the same. Dead and wounded lie from the pits we left to the rebel works, but at the works they were almost heaped in places.
We lay under cover of the pits until the middle of the afternoon when an order came from Capt. Baker, (the supposed surviving senior officer,) to start back one by one to the works we occupied in the morning. [This is at odds with other accounts that have the Eighth and their brigade entrenching about 200 to 250 yards from the Confederate line. The Eighth charged over the prostrate forms of the 15th New Jersey, Sixth Corps, who were supposed to get up and join the charge, but did not. I figure the 15th NJ must've had some works of their own and perhaps it was these works that the writer of this account refers to. The Eighth was the rightmost regiment in the line of the Second Corps.]
At dark all the unharmed had returned. We had roll-call and of the hundred and twelve of Co. H, that went at the word of command only fifty-six responded to their names. Out of the number missing, as near as we can judge, fifteen or more are killed and the rest wounded, and in every variety of forms from the slightest flesh to the deep and mortal. Almost all the wounded were got off during the night. - There are some still missing and it is not known whether they are dead, wounded or prisoners. Of the number of casualties I will now mention some that will be of interest to you....
Col. Porter, killed; Major Willert, wounded. The number of officers killed I do not know, but at least two thirds are wounded. Other companies, I think, lost about the same as ours. The charge was bravely made, but of no avail. Some of our wounded lay within a few feet of the rebel works all day, and under cover of the darkness, and din of battle, crept off. Lieut. Robson was one of them and what he suffered all that livelong day would fill volumes.
The ground was perfectly level and a little descending towards their works. [This is correct--today's the area is a farm that slopes slightly toward the position of the Confederate line.] With his cup he scooped out a hollow nearly deep enough for his body, and he thinks only for this he would have been shot again, for there was a constant fire kept up over him from both sides. Several who fell like him were again shot by this fire. The rebels asked them to come over and have their wounds dressed. Robson asked them if they would dress his and they said 'yes,' but the fire was so thick that he could not until dark, and just before dark the rebels made an attack on our left [this is most likely a reference to the attack of Finegan's Floridians against Barlow's division of the Second Corps; the Eighth was in Gibbon's division, so the attack was more than a mile away, near Turkey Hill] , which drew the attention of the whole line in that direction, and under cover of this he came off, together with several others; but it is reported that two went over to "their lines," - Cox and Haight, of Idleport.
The wounded have been taken to the hospital, and the dead are buried, and to-day, at 10 a.m., the remnant of the 8th lie quietly behind the breastworks we at first occupied.
Robert G.,
Of [Town of] Alabama, Genesee Co. [New York]
Of course, these things happened a lot in the Civil War, and we can probably post a number of first-person examples here about it. That said, here's the one that fell under my eye this morning, prompting this thread:
The following account is from the Batavia, New York Republican Advocate newspaper of June 21, 1864. The account is of one of my favorite regiments, the Eighth New York Heavy Artillery, of their big and bloody charge at Cold Harbor on June 3, 1864. I have bolded some text that illustrates the point I'm making in the first paragraph, above. Text in brackets (also italicized) are my editorial remarks. This:"...." denotes where I removed some text.
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The morning was chilly, cloudy and dark. We were awakened and had just time to sling on our things, when the order for "charge" came, and the 8th [New York Heavy Artillery] - twelve hundred [the regiment had nearly 1600 in its ranks but one or two companies were detached that morning] - instantly, bravely, and freely mounted and were over our works, with arms at a trail, bayonets fixed, and on the "double quickstep." Order was tolerably persevered, but in our company there was a tendency to crowd to the right, and it was more like a crowd or rabble (being sometimes six or eight deep) than two ranks as There should have been... We had orders in no case to fire until the command was given, and we all knew it would be useless to do so until we mounted their works. The moment we mounted our works a deadly, sweeping fire was opened upon us from thousands of muskets, as well as a few batteries. The men began to fall before we got twenty feet from our works, and there was two hundred rods [from my research, this regiment had to cover nearly a half-mile to get to the Confederate line; the fire they encountered at the outset was probably from Confederate pickets] to pass over before we got to their works, and almost all the way we would be exposed. On, on we went – the double-quick turned into a run. This kept up until we were too tired to go faster than a brisk step; for the distance was so great, and the ground so uneven and muddy, that we soon tired out. We kept on at the same pace, until some of the most advanced reached the rebel parapet; but of all that started not more than one third reached there [the Confederate line]. And what could they do? Nothing but die, and those who had not fallen took refuge in rifle-pits. – this was the maneuver of our company and I think the others were similar, and the casualties about the same. Dead and wounded lie from the pits we left to the rebel works, but at the works they were almost heaped in places.
We lay under cover of the pits until the middle of the afternoon when an order came from Capt. Baker, (the supposed surviving senior officer,) to start back one by one to the works we occupied in the morning. [This is at odds with other accounts that have the Eighth and their brigade entrenching about 200 to 250 yards from the Confederate line. The Eighth charged over the prostrate forms of the 15th New Jersey, Sixth Corps, who were supposed to get up and join the charge, but did not. I figure the 15th NJ must've had some works of their own and perhaps it was these works that the writer of this account refers to. The Eighth was the rightmost regiment in the line of the Second Corps.]
At dark all the unharmed had returned. We had roll-call and of the hundred and twelve of Co. H, that went at the word of command only fifty-six responded to their names. Out of the number missing, as near as we can judge, fifteen or more are killed and the rest wounded, and in every variety of forms from the slightest flesh to the deep and mortal. Almost all the wounded were got off during the night. - There are some still missing and it is not known whether they are dead, wounded or prisoners. Of the number of casualties I will now mention some that will be of interest to you....
Col. Porter, killed; Major Willert, wounded. The number of officers killed I do not know, but at least two thirds are wounded. Other companies, I think, lost about the same as ours. The charge was bravely made, but of no avail. Some of our wounded lay within a few feet of the rebel works all day, and under cover of the darkness, and din of battle, crept off. Lieut. Robson was one of them and what he suffered all that livelong day would fill volumes.
The ground was perfectly level and a little descending towards their works. [This is correct--today's the area is a farm that slopes slightly toward the position of the Confederate line.] With his cup he scooped out a hollow nearly deep enough for his body, and he thinks only for this he would have been shot again, for there was a constant fire kept up over him from both sides. Several who fell like him were again shot by this fire. The rebels asked them to come over and have their wounds dressed. Robson asked them if they would dress his and they said 'yes,' but the fire was so thick that he could not until dark, and just before dark the rebels made an attack on our left [this is most likely a reference to the attack of Finegan's Floridians against Barlow's division of the Second Corps; the Eighth was in Gibbon's division, so the attack was more than a mile away, near Turkey Hill] , which drew the attention of the whole line in that direction, and under cover of this he came off, together with several others; but it is reported that two went over to "their lines," - Cox and Haight, of Idleport.
The wounded have been taken to the hospital, and the dead are buried, and to-day, at 10 a.m., the remnant of the 8th lie quietly behind the breastworks we at first occupied.
Robert G.,
Of [Town of] Alabama, Genesee Co. [New York]
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