On the morning of the 4th all doubts as to our destination or the length of our stay at this point were removed by the receipt of an order from General Burnside for the corps to concentrate, and move forward to the Rapidan. At ten o'clock that forenoon the tents were struck, the line was formed, and we left our pleasant camp, little realizing the terrible scenes immediately awaiting us. In our march we followed the line of the railroad, and were joined at Catlett's Station by the command of Captain Morse. At noon a halt was made at Warrenton Junction, where the Second Division concentrated. Our brigade was now commanded by Colonel Zenas R. Bliss, of the Seventh Rhode Island, as Colonel Sigfried had been assigned to command a brigade of the colored division. The march was continued all the afternoon, and at nightfall we bivouacked at Bealeton Station, having marched thirteen miles.

On that day we received information of the resignation of our esteemed commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Goodell, in consequence of the wound he received at Blue Springs. His ability as a soldier and his reputation as a man were well established in the corps, and recognized by its commander, who desired him to remain in the service, and requested the Secretary of War to assign him to special duty. But the nature of his wound prevented him from rendering active service in the field, as he desired, and he was compelled reluctantly to resign.

At daylight of the 5th the command was in motion. At nine o'clock we crossed the Rappahannock on a pontoon bridge. Here we saw the monument of wood, bearing the inscription, "Erected in memory of the brave sons of Maine who fell while gallantly charging these heights, November 7th, 1863. Fifth, Sixth, and Twentieth Maine." The monument bore the names of the fallen heroes, among which we read the names of several members of the Twentieth,—our fellow-voyagers of the "Merrimac" in 1862.

As soon as the division had crossed the river the march was resumed over fields, through forests, and along dusty roads. The halts became less frequent, and the steadily increasing heat was severely felt. At noon we ate our dinner amid deserted camps, which but a day or two before were occupied by our comrades of the Army of the Potomac; and we knew that the terrible struggles of the past were soon to be renewed. Indeed, only an hour passed, and the deep booming of artillery was heard beyond the Rapidan. The lagging pace was now quickened, and dull hearts were stimulated to fresh life and courage. "Grant has found his objective!" "Hark! There it is again!" "They're at it, boys!" "Grant's found the Johnnies!" "Go it! We'll be in to-night!"—these and many like expressions were uttered by the men, excited for a moment at the sound of battle; while the clenched hands and compressed lips proved that the hour of great endeavor—for victory or death—was near. No lagging now; no more halting for rest; but on—forward! The sounds of the battle grew louder and nearer, the din of musketry mingling with the roar of artillery. As we neared the conflict the spirits of the men seemed to grow lighter and more elastic and buoyant. The speed, of the march was not abated until the Rapidan, at Germanna Ford, was reached. There, in the confusion of trains, artillery, and massing battalions, we were allowed a moment's rest. The halt, however, was brief. Soon the order—Forward! was given; and away we marched over the pontoon bridge, which swayed beneath our tread, with the sound of battle more appalling in front, and the apparent confusion more startling in rear. As we crossed that sluggish stream, to many minds recurred the well-known lines:—

The regiment was now south of the Rapidan; and, upon halting, we had an opportunity of looking about, and many and earnest inquiries were made of every one coming from the front. We learned that the entire army had crossed the river the day before,—the Fifth and Sixth Corps at Germanna Ford; the Second Corps, and the immense supply train of more than four thousand wagons, at Ely's Ford, six miles below; and that the whole army had pushed southward on the two available roads leading toward Spottsylvania,—Grant's plan being to avoid the intrenchments of the enemy behind the Rapidan, turn his right, and by a rapid movement get between him and Richmond, and force him to retire, or fight a decisive battle on open and more advantageous ground.

Lee, from his signal-stations, observed the movement, offered no opposition to the passage of the river, but, instead of falling back, put his columns in motion by two parallel roads (the Orange and Fredericksburg Plank Road and Turnpike), to strike the Army of the Potomac at right angles with its line of advance, when it was well on its march through the tangled Wilderness. He moved from his works over roads and cart-tracks perfectly familiar to him, with the intention of assailing Grant's flank, separating the several corps, and then defeating them in detail.

The movement was a bold one, made with great celerity and with Lee's entire army; and General Grant was forced to accept battle in this unlooked-for place at the very commencement of the campaign. He did not expect, or rather did not desire, to be attacked in such a wilderness, and the order of march for this day, if executed, would have carried his army beyond the Wilderness into the open country around Spottsylvania Court-House. But with characteristic promptness and resolution Grant faced to meet the enemy; the lines were pushed into the dense forests, and the terrible battle which will live in history as the "Battle of the Wilderness" now raged around us.

This region, known as the Wilderness, was densely covered by a second growth of low, scraggy pines, scrub-oaks and hazel,—a wild, uneven, tangled thicket, with but few openings that would permit the use of artillery, or clearings for formation and movement of troops. It is a region of gloom and the shadow of death. The advantage of position was entirely with the enemy, who were familiar with every ravine and ridge and cow-path throughout the dense jungle. Neither superiority of numbers nor the most skilful generalship could counterbalance the great advantages of the enemy. "In that horrid thicket lurked two immense armies, and there came out of its depths the crackle and roll of musketry like the noisy boiling of some hell-cauldron that told the story of death."

General Burn side ordered the division forward. We were worn and weary. Nearly twenty-five long miles lay between us and our resting-place of last night. The march had been severe and tedious, and yet with willing feet and hopeful hearts we pushed on, feeling the magic influence of that presence which, at Antietam, Campbell's Station, and Knoxville, had inspired the heroism of the men of the Ninth Corps. The march was continued for two miles over the narrow, dusty road, now crowded with wagons, guns, and troops; and just at dusk we filed to the right into the woods, and, after receiving orders to be in constant readiness to move, we stacked arms. Soon the groups gathered around little fires, kindled marvellously quick, attested the sharp appetites of the men. Although the march had been forced and exhausting but very few of the men had fallen out. Major Draper's quarters were established on the left flank, very near the road, in order that there should be no delay in finding him should the regiment be needed in the night.

The night was passed in a state of anxious suspense. What a night! The continuous fire of the skirmishers swelled now and then into a crashing volley which extended along the lines, the shouts of teamsters urging on their jaded beasts, the music of bands far in the rear, and the tramp of passing troops,—all blended in one strange, discordant strain. How many of our brave men sat by the smouldering fires, thinking of the loved ones in homes they should never enter again! How many lay down to catch the last few hours' sleep left for them on earth before closing their eyes in the sleep of death! Thus the few weary hours of the night dragged on.

Between one and two o'clock we were aroused, and before three o'clock we moved out quietly by the left. Marching along the road in rear of the line of battle, at daybreak we reached a clearing, within which was situated the Old Wilderness Tavern. Here the brigade was halted, and ordered to load and prepare for action.

The battle was renewed at quarter before five. Grant had ordered an attack along the whole line to be delivered at five o'clock. Lee anticipated him, and was fifteen minutes earlier. The battle soon became general. Far on the left was heard the terrific fire of Hancock's advancing line. On the right Sedgwick was beating back the enemy's fierce attack; while in our front the fire raged along the Fifth Corps line. Being ordered forward, we continued our march toward the left of the Fifth Corps line, over a road leading in the direction of Parker's store, the Second Brigade having the right of the column. After marching about half a mile the men of the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania were deployed as skirmishers, to cover the flank of our brigade. After moving about half a mile further a line of battle was formed, and here the regiment breakfasted. The enemy's skirmishers soon opened fire, but retired before General Griffin's advance. In moving forward we crossed a small stream called Wilderness Run, and continued to advance until we encountered a brisk fire of artillery from a rebel battery, and a sharp musketry fire at close range. The line advanced to the edge of a small clearing, across which the enemy was strongly posted with a battery. The Second Brigade was warmly engaged, the action had become quite brisk, and General Potter was making preparations to charge the battery, when orders were received to withdraw, move farther to the left, and attack on the right of General Hancock's line, near the Plank Road, that portion of the line being then hard pressed.

Hancock's attack had been very successful. He had driven the enemy fully a mile and a half back on the trains, artillery, and head-quarters of the Confederate Army, which were in imminent danger of capture; but in the rapid advance his line of battle had become so broken in the dense forest as to require readjustment before he could press forward and secure the prize almost within his grasp. While this was being done the enemy was reinforced by Longstreet's troops, who had been pushed forward rapidly to the threatened point. When, therefore, Hancock's line advanced to resume the attack he was confronted by a superior force, and was not only unable to make any impression on the enemy, but was in turn pressed back over all the ground he had gained, and was himself now in need of assistance.

The story of the Battle of the Wilderness is one of the most intensely interesting of the war; but it will be referred to in this record only to describe intelligibly the action taken by the regiment in its relation to the engagement as a whole. We received the orders to retire about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and moved by the left flank through the dense forest and underbrush, which were almost impenetrable, through swamps deep with water, back to the clearing, to the assigned position, which was in rear of a gap said to exist between the left of the Fifth Corps and the right of the Second. Our position was about a mile and a half in front of the Old Wilderness Tavern, facing nearly south, and not far from the Plank Road which runs south-east from Germanna Ford. Our division was ordered to advance and fill the gap, and to attack the enemy as soon as found. Each regiment was to skirmish along its own front. On our right was Wadsworth's division of the Fifth Corps, and it was expected we would connect our left with Barlow's division of the Second Corps. With a detail from each regiment, Captain McKibben, of General Potter's staff, rode into the woods to establish a skirmish line. He had not proceeded far when he was fired upon by the enemy, and his horse was killed.

It being evident that the enemy was in strong force along our immediate front a general advance was ordered. The regiments were ordered to advance as rapidly as possible, keeping close connection on the right and left, and to attack without delay. The Fifty-first New York was formed on our left; the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania joined our right; beyond this we could not see the brigade line and knew nothing of its formation. A strong skirmish line was sent out from our front, under Captain Bailey, of Company G, and when all was in readiness the line of battle pushed forward into the dense forest. The heat was intense; the men were almost exhausted from their long march of the previous day, were famished and weary; but the thought of the burden of battle borne thus far by our brave comrades caused them to march with steady tread as they moved onward toward the foe. In a few moments the line received a tremendous volley, and the advance was checked for an instant, but only long enough for us to ascertain the exact position of the enemy and strengthen the skirmish line. This being done, Captain Bailey advanced very rapidly, driving the enemy's skirmishers through a swampy ravine into his entrenchments. The line of battle halted and closed up, while the Thirty-sixth and Forty-fifth made nearly a half wheel to the right, in order that our line might conform more nearly to the line of the enemy, which, as far as we could determine, crossed our line of battle diagonally.

During all this time the fire from the rebel line was very sharp and close, but the casualties were few. The left flank was found to be very much exposed, and the Fifty-first New York was drawn back to cover the flank and rear, leaving the Thirty-sixth on the extreme left of the division line of battle.

In front of our line, across the swampy ravine, on the crest of a wooded slope, were the breastworks of the enemy, made of felled trees and brush and the bodies of their dead. Behind these rude intrenchments stood Anderson's brigade, Field's division (Hood's old division) of Longstreet's veteran corps. It was composed of troops from South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Texas. Surely they were no mean foe. At Antietam Bridge, on the Heights of Fredericksburg, at Campbell's Station, and in the defences of Knoxville, the Ninth Corps had engaged with them in deadly conflict, and knew full well the devotion of these men to their cause, and the desperate valor with which they would defend their works. Once more these old antagonists stood face to face, about to renew the fearful struggle of other days on bloody fields. The foeman was worthy of our steel. The order, "Forward, double quick!" was shouted, and with loud and ringing cheers our lines advanced. The enemy poured in terrific volleys; their bullets whistled around us and thinned our ranks; but the advance was not checked. The left of our regiment first struck the rebel line, and received the severest fire, but pressed on through it, and the Thirty-sixth and Forty-fifth broke the line, went over the breastworks with a rush, and drove out the enemy in our front. The attack had been most determined and successful, and the regiment had complete possession of the rebel works in its front. Thus far all had gone well. The Fifty-first New York, however, had broken in the attack and failed to carry the line with which it was confronted, and, in a brief time, though to us it seemed an age, the enemy rallied, moved upon our left flank, swept round toward our rear, and we were subjected to a fearful fire of musketry at short range. Having no supports, and being outflanked and overpowered on the left, that portion of the line was unable to hold the position, and began to retire in some confusion. The position was too valuable to abandon without a desperate struggle, and Major Draper leaped upon the log breastworks in the centre, and endeavored by words and motions to turn back the left wing, in order to present a front to the enemy attacking on that flank. Captain Barker, in command of the left wing, vainly endeavored to persuade a regiment of the Third Division sent forward to support the attack, to swing to the left and attack the enemy. In the most critical moment of the fight, while gallantly rallying the line, Major Draper was shot through the shoulder and carried senseless from the field.[12] The regiment was loth to give up the great advantage it had gained, and the fighting was hand to hand,—terrible and bloody. The men fought gallantly; but the force upon our left was too strong, and our line was compelled to retire. Falling back slowly, with their faces toward the enemy, the regiment preserved a good line, returning the enemy's fire, and retired but a short distance. Sergeant Henry Todd, who bore the State color, although wounded in the arm, refused to the last to fall back, and received a bullet in the head, which laid him low in death. The flag was seized from his dying grasp by Corporal Michael Long, of Company A, who himself was wounded a moment later, and before it reached the ground was seized by Sergeant Gilbert Rawson, who bore it through the battle, and the subsequent campaign.

In the midst of this terrific fight Colonel Curtin, of the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, assumed command of the brigade. Hartranft, with his brigade of the Third Division, came up at the same moment, when the whole line advanced in the face of a furious fire; and although the enemy was severely handled, and his line forced at several points, yet the opposition was so determined as to prevent complete success. Through all these trying scenes the regiment behaved with great gallantry, and held its position to the last moment. The brigade now retired a short distance, re-formed, and corrected the line. Here Lieutenant Marshall, of Company A, was badly wounded and carried to the rear. During this temporary lull, amid the cries of the wounded, and the burning undergrowth that added horror to the scene, our comrades of the Forty-fifth struck up the chorus: "We'll rally round the flag, boys, rally once again." The Thirty-sixth took up the strain, and made those smoking woods ring with the chorus and cheers of the undaunted men.

During the afternoon new dispositions were made for a third attack. As our ammunition was exhausted we were relieved in the front line by the Third Division, and closely supported its attack, which was made with great vigor soon after five o'clock. The charge was gallant and determined, and they who heard that terrific musketry will never forget it. The enemy's skirmish line was driven in, and their main line of battle, which had come out of the works, was broken and forced back. A portion of the line on the left was again carried, but it could not be held. The enemy's fire was of the heaviest; but the main line held the ground up to the teeth of the enemy until dusk, when our division took position to the right of the Third Division in the front line, within close musket range of the enemy. A strong skirmish line was deployed, and the regiment intrenched.

While these changes of position were being made it became necessary to leave many of our wounded between the opposing lines, and volunteers were called for to go out under the enemy's fire, and bring in such as could be removed. Several gallant men of the Thirty-sixth offered to perform this perilous service. While thus employed, Corporal George E. Nourse, of Company I, was struck by the fatal bullet of a sharp-shooter, and was himself borne away upon the stretcher with which he had assisted to carry others to the rear. He was buried near the spot where he fell, and sleeps, like many of his comrades, in that far-off grave in the lonely Wilderness, or in the National Cemetery at Fredericksburg, where so many of our comrades buried on the Wilderness battle-ground have since been laid to rest.

Thus closed in blood and gloom the second day of the sanguinary battle of the Wilderness. When darkness settled on those smouldering forests the roll-call bore witness to the sacrifice we had offered that day on the altar of Freedom. Eighty-five were absent. Of this number, twelve were known to have been killed, fifty-three wounded, and of the twelve reported "missing in action" several were supposed to have been killed or wounded, and consumed in the burning of the underbrush between the contending lines. The brigade lost five hundred and four in killed, wounded, and missing; the heavy loss of the Thirty-sixth being occasioned by our great exposure, and the severe fire on our left flank and rear. The scenes and events of the day were recounted, and entrusted to the keeping of faithful memories. Sergeant Rawson had his story to tell of the coolness and thoughtfulness of Color-Sergeant Todd. As they were about to enter the battle he said to Rawson, "If anything happens to me, take good care of the State color." But for this timely charge the flag might have fallen into the enemy's hands, for Rawson, deeply impressed with the words of his friend, was near him when he fell, ready to take the flag from Todd's dying grasp.

In the line the severest loss was sustained by Company I, commanded by Orderly Sergeant White, losing three killed and ten wounded (three of them mortally) out of thirty-five taken into action.

The following is the list of casualties:—

Commissioned Officers.

Wounded.—Major William F. Draper, Lieutenant Joseph A. Marshall.

Enlisted Men.

Company A. Killed.—Corporal Albert H. Carter. Wounded.—Corporal Michael Long, Private Henry A. Thompson.

Company B. Killed.—Color-Sergeant Henry Todd, Private Charles M. Westcott. Wounded.—Sergeant John Lamont, Privates Louis P. Abbott, Daniel Lamont, James H. Robertson, James E. Spear.

Company C. Killed.—Private Myron M. Daniels. Died of Wounds.—Private Frank S. Kelley. Wounded.—Corporal Walter Chisold, Privates Jacob W. Bixby, Frederick S. Gates, William Harty. Prisoner.—Private Hartwell C. Twitchell (died August 21, 1864, at Andersonville).

Company D. Killed.—Privates Frank M. Fenno, Andrew J. Morgan. Wounded.—Privates James H. Day, George L. Chase (died of wounds).

Company E. Wounded.—Sergeant Lucius L. Merrick, Privates Josiah B. Davis, F. Daniel Hadley.

Company F. Wounded.—Sergeant Daniel Wright (taken prisoner), Corporal Lucius Lowell, Private Chester J. Smith (died of wounds).

Company G. Killed.—Corporal Edward W. Stacy. Died of Wounds.—Corporal Joseph L. Haskell. Wounded.—Privates James A. Dadman, Aaron M. Williams, Emory Winchester.

Company H. Killed.—Corporal Joshua Rich. Died of Wounds.—Corporal Henry H. Mayo, Privates Luther P. Reed, Edward O. Young (captured). Wounded.—Corporal William N. Smith, Privates Joseph F. Hayward, John W. Pratt, Henry W. Wetherbee.

Company I. Killed.—Corporals Isaac R. Patten, George A. Nourse, Private Daniel V. Childs. Died of Wounds.—Corporal William H. Coburn, Privates Josiah Houghton, George W. Bardwell, Julius N. Bellows. Wounded.—Corporal James H. Barry, Privates Oscar H. Brown, Truman Marble, Charles H. Wheeler, Israel F. Carter.

Company K. Died of Wounds.—Private Algernon S. Mandell. Wounded.—Privates Robert Stevens, Silas J. Howell, Jr., Henry Noi, Samuel G. Vaughn.

Twenty-ninth Massachusetts. Wounded.—Privates Rawson, Swift, Alexander, and Leavitt.

With the first ray of daylight on the 7th the men were astir, in expectation of orders for a general advance. The skirmishers exchanged a few shots with the enemy at daybreak, but neither party manifested any disposition to attack. The firing along Hancock's front, on our left, was very severe at times, and word was passed down the lines that his corps was to make an attack at right angles with our front; but the morning wore away and no attack was made. A death-like quiet pervaded our lines. The silence of the enemy was considered ominous, and the picket force under Captain Morse was doubled, and then cautiously advanced toward the enemy's skirmish pits, but only to find them deserted. The enemy had withdrawn.

Small parties were now sent out to remove the wounded lying in our front, and to recover the bodies of the dead. As the sad procession moved to the rear the hearts of many were made sad in recognizing among the mangled dead and wounded the forms of dear comrades whom we fondly hoped had met the less sad fate of capture. The dead were carefully buried, and their graves marked. While this sad work was being performed the regiment erected a strong breastwork of logs, and every precaution was taken to guard against a sudden attack of the enemy. Here we were visited by Colonel Morrison, of the Seventy-ninth New York,—our former brigade commander,—who was about to be mustered out of the service, the term of his regiment having expired. He had been wounded in the arm the day before, but refused to go to the rear. He came over to say good-by to his former "pets" before leaving for his home.