My Service in the U.S. Colored Cavalry

Having served over two years in a good, hard-fighting infantry regiment, and being encamped at Newport News, Va., holding the dignified rank of Sergeant, I one day met our little fighting Major John G. Chambers who asked me if I would like a commission in the 1st U. S. Colored Cavalry, then forming at Fort Monroe, to which I made answer that I would, and two or three days thereafter I received an order, mustering me out of the service and also an order to report to Colonel Garrard for duty as an officer of the new regiment. Early the next morning, going down to the wharf to embark for Ft. Monroe, I showed to the sentry on the wharf (as my authority for leaving) the order mustering me out. He looked it over and said in a home-sick way, "I would give $800 for that paper." I reported to Colonel Garrard, and for the first time saw this officer with whose reputation as a brave and efficient Major of the 3d N. Y. Cavalry I had been well acquainted in the Department of North Carolina. This regiment, being the first colored cavalry regiment, had in its ranks a rather better class of men than the infantry regiments had; some being from the North and some being the outlaw negroes who, in slavery times, had been able to maintain their liberty in the swamps of Eastern Virginia and North Carolina. The regiment was officered largely from the 3d N. Y. Cavalry, and they were a thoroughly efficient and capable corps of officers. The regiment was soon filled, mounted and equipped, and constant drill soon made it have the manner and bearing of soldiers. Every one knew that the Campaign of 1864 meant business, and therefore all was in readiness when about May 1st orders came to move. We marched out through Hampton, of which not one house was left except the little old stone church which is still standing there. Through Big Bethel, the scene of one of the earliest disasters of the war, to Yorktown, memorable for its two sieges in two wars, and thence on to Williamsburg, passing between Yorktown and Williamsburg our infantry who, much to our surprise were marching very hurriedly back to Yorktown. We learned afterward they were put on board transports at Yorktown and sent up the James to City Point and Bermuda Hundred. The next day we went up the Peninsula, passing 6 and 12 Mile and burnt ordinarys, camping at night at New Kent Court House. I commanded the picket that night on the Bottoms Bridge Road and the enemy's scouts were against us all night, keeping matters well stirred up. The next morning we turned South and met the enemy at Jones Ford on the Chickahominy. They were in an earthwork across the Ford and we opened on them with our howitzers in front and deployed as to cross in front, but a force was sent to the right up stream who managed to cross, and, coming down on the opposite side of the river, took the enemy in flank and soon drove them away from the ford. Killing some and capturing some of the enemy, and having some killed and wounded, our movement having been a feint to make the enemy believe that Butler's Army of the James, as it was afterward called, was moving up the Peninsula, having been accomplished, we returned to Williamsburg, arriving there the next day, where, to our astonishment, we met an order to go back at once and cross the Chickahominy at Jones Ford, sometimes called Jones Bridge, and proceed to Harrison's Landing, which we at once did, again fighting our way across at Jones Ford. Steamers were lying at the wharf in front of the old Westover mansion, and, going on board, we were soon thereafter landed at Bermuda Hundred and passing out took the advance of Butler's Army, being at the time the only cavalry he had. The first day out we came to the Richmond and Petersburg turnpike and turning to the right on said pike started "on to Richmond," but as the road approached Drewry's Bluff we were fired on by both infantry and artillery and forced back with loss. Halting and feeding at the Howlett House, a fine mansion on a high bluff overlooking the James, where the Confederates afterward erected a strong battery to hold back our Navy from ascending the river. In the afternoon we started out again on the same road with orders to break the Richmond & Petersburg R. R., which ran parallel with the pike; beyond the pike, when we crossed, we left three companies to guard and hold the crossing which was in a low swamp and heavily wooded ground. The remainder of the force passed through the swamp up a steep hill, and when we were fairly on top of the hill there came a crashing volley of musketry down behind us at the crossing, and looking down to the pike we saw the fragments of those three companies drift down the pike toward Petersburg like dry leaves before an autumn gale. A brigade of Confederate infantry was concealed in that swamp, who, letting us pass, thinking they had us cut off and securely bagged, had then simply risen and fired a volley at close range into these three companies. This volley killed Lieutenant Mains and killed and wounded a good many of the men. When we heard the volley, Lieutenant Vandervoort, commanding the howitzers, tore down the fence, running his guns out into an open field on the brow of the hill, opened fire on the confederate infantry: but the Colonel did not think our position was just what he desired, as we now had the confederate infantry behind us and we knew the confederate cavalry was guarding the R. R. in front of us. These we went out expecting to fight but were not reckoning on the infantry, so we started on toward the R. R., seeking another road to return to our own lines and soon found one into which we turned at a gallop. Just as we did so the Confederate Cavalry, whose curiosity had been excited by the firing, and had come down the road to meet us, poured a volley into us, the bullets rattling on the wooden fence at the turn of the road like hail. This did not retard our speed and we came back into our infantry lines in such a cloud of dust that they sprang into line to meet us. The next morning we again struck the Richmond and Petersburg Pike and turned toward Richmond, this time with the infantry behind us, and we soon struck the enemy's infantry near where they had fired on the three companies the day before and we soon turned over the task to our infantry. We lined up along the side of the pike with our horses' tails in the bushes and the infantry and artillery defiled past us, going from our left to our right into action. Among the infantry was the 6th Connecticut, armed entirely with Spencer rifles. Just beyond the right of our regiment the pike crossed a low ridge or swell of ground, and on this ridge in the pike our people planted a couple of 20 pounder Parrott guns and opened with them on the enemy. This fire the enemy's artillery quickly returned, and I was sitting on my horse lazily watching our men work the pieces and the constantly recurring puffs of white smoke as the confederate shells burst over their heads when suddenly I noticed a commotion among the gunners who came running back down the pike with their rammers and swabs in their hands, and the teams with the caissons and limbers came back on the run and immediately the confederate infantry swarmed over the guns. I was no longer sleepy. It looked as if the cavalry was going to have a chance to win more glory, but our infantry was too quick, and with a counter charge they at once retook the guns. The gunners and the teams ran back, and immediately the guns were again jumping like mad creatures under the recoil of their discharge. Of the battle beyond this ridge I could see nothing, but the firing was heavy and at once there came from the front, defiling past us to the rear, a ghastly procession of men wounded in every way in which men could be wounded and still retain the power of locomotion. Among them was a stout, hearty sergeant of this 6th Connecticut regiment limping to the rear, using two muskets as crutches. The calf of his right leg had been struck by a solid shot or unexploded shell. Though no bones had been broken, there was nothing left of the calf but bloody strings of flesh and trouser leg. But we were getting too near Richmond, and during the next day or two the enemy in our front was very heavily reinforced and outflanking our right Heckman's Brigade, impetuously attacked at the earliest dawn along the whole front. Heckman's Brigade was veteran troops who had heretofore had only victories and it fought with stubborn temper, but the confederates finally advanced with such a rush that they ran over Heckman's Brigade and left it, the dead and wounded and living in the rear of the confederate line of battle, not even stopping to place guards in charge; and a good many of our men, finding they were not restrained, passed down to the left, around the left of the confederate line and got back once more into our own lines, thus missing the pleasures of Andersonville.

The battle raged all day and only ceased with darkness. During the night Butler decided to withdraw his army within his fortified lines at Bermuda Hundred. Our cavalry picket line was ordered to hold its place only until the enemy advanced and then fall back also, within the fortified lines. Personally I was in command of that part of the line at Weirs Bottom Church where we had a howitzer. The infantry retired during the night, and in the morning we were unsupported except for the fortified lines about 3 or 4 miles in our rear. We had the howitzer loaded with shell and aimed at the road where it crossed the low hill back of the Howlett House, but the enemy were in no hurry to close in, and it was about 3 o'clock P. M. when, looking at this point in the road where our howitzer was aimed, I saw 8 or 10 confederate cavalry slowly and watchfully advancing. They were just where the howitzer was aimed and we fired on them at once, but they jumped their horses to the right and left out of the road like cats, and when the shell got there, there was nothing but the road for it to hit. They scattered to the right and left across the fields and carefully inspected our position but did nothing further on that part of the line.

I had been in the saddle night and day and was thoroughly worn out and was more than half sick with malarial fever, and so after dark, holding my horse's reins in my hands, I sat down at the road side with my back to the trunk of a tree, never dreaming of going to sleep, but alas, the next thing I knew I heard the Captain of my Company, who had commanded the line a little to the left, give the command, "Fours right, gallop, march," and away they all went in the darkness, leaving me alone in the woods. Be sure I was on my feet trying to gather a few of my scattered senses, when suddenly I heard a horse whining in the darkness, out a short distance in the woods, and rushing headlong in the direction of the sound, ran bodily against my horse who was quietly browsing on the young leaves. Mounting at once and spurring out into the road, started on the gallop down the road after the company; but soon coming to where the road forked, and not knowing where any of the roads led, as we were retiring on a different road from the one we went out on, I checked the horse to a walk and let him have his head and go where he pleased, and taking a good swinging stride with his head low he went on his way without hesitation. For myself, I drew a revolver and cocked and held it ready for what might happen. Going on thus for about an hour I suddenly heard in the darkness in front of me, the jingle of horse equipments and at once the challenge, "Who comes there?" To this I at once answered, "A friend," and riding up with my revolver in my hand found one of the men of my own company. Asking where the company was, I rode on to the bivouac and dismounting, with my saddle for a pillow, slept. Thus I believe I was the last man of that whole army to retire from the front of the enemy, but I never called the General's attention to the fact. As General Grant said, we were bottled up at Bermuda Hundred and the enemy used to amuse himself by firing on the transports going up and down the river below Bermuda Hundred, especially at a high bluff commanding the river, called Fort Powhatan. So Butler sent my company of cavalry and a battery of artillery and a regiment of infantry to hold and fortify the place. The artillery and infantry fortified toward the land with the river at their backs and the cavalry bivouacked outside the fortification. We scouted the country out toward Petersburg and brought in supplies of all sorts, among which were several fish seines, and with these we caught some fine shad, and with rowing and bathing we had a good time.