Toward noon it became evident that a new movement was contemplated. About one o'clock we marched by the flank to the rear, and halted near the road for the rest of the brigade to withdraw, and concentrate. We then moved rapidly to the open ground near the Old Wilderness Tavern, where the Ninth Corps was massed. There we saw our immense artillery and ammunition trains moving in the direction of Chancellorsville.

We remained at the tavern until dark, and had supper there. For forty-eight hours our only food had been bread and water. As soon as the trains were on the road we were ordered to follow them in the direction of Chancellorsville. The march was very tedious and vexatious, owing to the darkness and the slow movement of the wagons. At every few rods we were obliged to halt, and the weary men threw themselves upon the ground for a few moments' rest, only to be aroused to move a little distance and repeat the same experience. At ten o'clock the picket-firing ceased, and we lay down by the roadside for the night. At daylight we resumed the march. At nine o'clock we reached Chancellorsville, and halted in an open field, at the intersection of the Gordonsville Plank and Orange County roads. Here stood the ruins of the house used by General Hooker as head-quarters during the great battle fought one year before, and all around us traces of the bloody struggle could be seen. Without shelter from the scorching sun, and covered with dust raised in great clouds by the passing trains and troops, we remained at Chancellorsville during the entire day. The Fifth and Second Corps had moved on the Brock road toward Spottsylvania; the Sixth was with us. As the last division filed past us down the Plank road, and the fire of the Wilderness died away, the distant booming of artillery in our front announced that the enemy was in position across the advance of the Fifth Corps.

The firing increased all the afternoon, and at sunset was very heavy. The brigade bivouacked at Chancellorsville, and remained until nearly noon of the next day, when orders were received to move down the Plank road in the direction of the conflict. During the afternoon we moved from one position to another, and at dusk were put in line of battle upon a high crest west of the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, on the extreme left of the army. We were not permitted to remain long in this fine position, where we expected to pass the night, but were moved out to the road again, and marched rapidly through deserted camps and past smouldering camp-fires, until late at night we bivouacked near General Burnside's head-quarters, and upon the left of the army of the Potomac, which during the day had been closing around the strong position of the enemy at Spottsylvania Court-House. Three divisions of our corps were now concentrated at this point, the Fourth Division being detailed as guard for the supply train of the army.

The 10th of May was clear and intensely hot. The burning sun drove us from the open fields to seek the shelter of the woods. There we lay during the long and tedious hours, listening to the sounds of battle on our right, with orders to be ready to move at a moment's notice. Thus far during the campaign but little artillery had been used, owing to the nature of the country; but on this day the action was on more open ground, and much of the artillery of both armies was brought into use, the cannonading resembling one continuous peal of thunder.

Reports came to us that Lee's army was being forced from its strong defences; in fact, rumors of the wildest description reached us. They were soon to be dispelled, however, for, at four o'clock, marching orders were received, and in another moment we were on the road, marching in the direction of the conflict. The route lay over a good road, through noble forests, until at length we reached the open country along the banks of the Ny river. After halting at the Harris house for the command to close up, the march was continued to the river, which we crossed by the turnpike bridge. Here we filed to the left into an open field, and the division was formed in line of battle, and ordered to advance rapidly. On reaching a rise of ground in our front we received a severe fire from the enemy's artillery; but the advance was not checked. The troops on the right of the road soon encountered the skirmishers of A. P. Hill's corps, and pressed them back, our regiment threatening their flanks. The artillery was now brought to bear on the enemy's line, and the whole division advanced gallantly in face of a heavy fire, and continued until darkness compelled a halt. This movement was made in support of the famous charge of twelve picked regiments of the Sixth Corps, upon the right centre of the enemy's position. The assault was made with great gallantry, and the works were carried with a loss to the enemy of six cannon and nine hundred prisoners; but the rebels were strongly reinforced, and the great advantage which was gained could not be secured. At nightfall the remnant of the noble column returned, leaving their dead and wounded and the six pieces of cannon, which could not be removed, in the enemy's hands.

The division passed the night in line of battle, without fires or coffee. The picket line was attacked several times; but no serious demonstration was made, and there were no casualties on our front. At daylight of the 11th the line advanced to the crest of a ridge directly in our front, from which we obtained a fine view of the enemy's position. We were about a quarter of a mile from the Court-House, around which stood the enemy's earthworks, bristling with cannon, and surrounded by a formidable abatis and slashing of timber. They seemed to be alive with troops, who, doubtless from our close advance, expected an immediate attack. The enemy evidently desired our approach, and were ready to give us a hot reception. The position was strong naturally, and the fortifications and obstructions rendered it well-nigh impregnable. Our pickets held a very advanced position and kept up a lively skirmishing all the morning. Being seriously exposed, we were ordered to build a line of breastworks along our whole front, maintaining at the same time the utmost vigilance lest the enemy should attack our left and flank. Notwithstanding a close and annoying fire we were able to construct a strong line of intrenchments during the forenoon; but we were not allowed the privilege of defending them, for at three o'clock orders were received to withdraw with the utmost speed and caution. This was a perilous undertaking in the face of a watchful and powerful enemy. The movement was made against the earnest remonstrance of the corps commander, and the mistake was afterwards seen when too late to be corrected. The day had been intensely hot, and now the sky was black with clouds. As the movement commenced the rain began to fall. Soon it descended in torrents, and during the drenching rain which followed, the works were evacuated without exciting the attention of the enemy.

The brigade was now hurried to the rear, the direction of the march being toward the right of our line, and in another hour the corps was massed in a large open field near the Harris house. Here we remained more than an hour, exposed to the full fury of the drenching rain, which caused the men to shiver with cold. It was the first rain that had fallen during the campaign, and, however welcome it might have been in allaying the stifling dust and cooling the heated air, it was decidedly unpleasant to be obliged to encounter its full force in the open field, without shelter of any kind. Here the wearied men partook of the first nourishment during the day. At dusk the corps was again ordered forward to a new position in the advanced line, more to the right of that occupied during the day. We crossed the broad meadows bordering the Ny river, and as we moved forward an aid reported to Captain Barker that, Colonel Bliss having been injured, he had been directed to notify the senior officer to take command of the brigade, and that Lieutenant-Colonel Pleasants, of the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania, was in command. He was soon succeeded, however, by Colonel Curtin, who had been temporarily absent.

The shower settled into a steady rain, and the night was cold and cheerless. The advance was continued in the darkness until we reached a line of breastworks around a deserted farm-house. Here we remained during the night. The head-quarters of the regiment were in a dilapidated barn, and nearly all the officers lay down upon the wet ground, which constituted the floor. The place was filthy and disagreeable; but any shelter was welcome on such a night. The hours dragged drearily. The men were under arms, and the pickets, though almost exhausted, were alert and vigilant. We were ignorant of the enemy's position, yet conscious that the morning light would reveal it, and be the signal for a determined assault.

The morning of Thursday (the 12th) dawned cold and dismal. A curtain of gray mist enshrouded the earth as with a pall. The men shivered as they awoke from unrefreshing sleep, and the order to advance was promptly responded to. Without food we moved forward, continuing the line of advance of the previous evening, and, after a short march, reached a large opening in the forest, where a portion of the corps was being massed in column by brigades in line of battle. During the night the Second Corps had been massed on our right, and were ordered to assault at daylight, with a portion of our corps to support the left. We were to advance by brigade front, formed en echelon. The Second Brigade was in front, the First Brigade had the second line, with the Thirty-sixth again on the extreme left. The Second Brigade was ordered to advance to the right, to uncover the front of our brigade, when we were to advance rapidly to the front, connect our right with the left of the Second Brigade, and push forward. While forming for the attack we heard the loud cheers of the troops on our right, who were charging the enemy, followed by the thunder of artillery. This was the signal for our attack, and the division advanced rapidly toward the woods, the brigades deployed to the right and left, and a heavy skirmish line was thrown out. We drew the first fire from the rebel skirmishers at half-past four o'clock.

The line of our advance to the woods lay over a steep knoll, which descended into a swampy thicket just in front of the woods, and while crossing this exposed ground the regiment encountered a very severe fire of musketry at short range from the enemy posted in the edge of the woods; but he retired rapidly before our advance, and, as we entered the woods, attempted to swing around our left, with the evident intention of outflanking us. To prevent this movement Companies C, B, and K were deployed to the left of the line of battle, to cover the flank and protect the rear. The division which had been expected to prolong the line of battle on the left had not come into position, and it seemed to us that the dire experience of the Wilderness was now to be repeated. But the enemy suddenly fell back, and appeared to abandon the attempt to double our left flank. By five o'clock the engagement had become very hot, and as the division advanced the cheering on the right was renewed, and the firing became terrific. The lurid flash of musketry lighted up the dim woods, and the din of battle resounded on every side.

Connection was established with Griffin's brigade, which joined the left of the Second Corps near their point of attack at the famous "death angle," thereby securing our right; but the left was badly exposed, and the advance of the promised support in that direction was anxiously awaited. We were in a dense forest, and it was impossible to distinguish the position of the enemy or his approach, should he attack, until the skirmishers should come in contact. The firing in our immediate front was very sharp and close, indicating the presence of a large force, and our skirmish line was reinforced preparatory to a charge which we had been ordered to make, and also to resist any attack of the enemy.

In a few minutes intelligence was passed along the line that Hancock had just finished a successful charge on the right, carrying the enemy's line, near the McCool House, capturing four thousand prisoners and twenty cannon. Soon after, a large force of the enemy was discovered moving from the right toward the left, in column, across our front. The skirmishers opened a sharp fire, which was not returned, but instead we heard the cry, "For God's sake, don't fire!" At the same time word came from the right of our division, "Cease firing! Hancock's prisoners are passing along your front." The firing ceased, when in a few minutes a horrible cry came from the left of the Thirty-sixth,—"The rebels are on our flank!" The fatal impression seemed to prevail that this body of the enemy was the division just captured by General Hancock. A sergeant came in from the skirmish line and reported that a Union officer had ordered the line to cease firing, and that the rebels carried a white flag; and the impression was general that these were rebel prisoners moving toward the rear. They were formed squarely across our flank, and Captain Buffum, Acting Major, who had command of the left wing, walked out on the narrow wagon-track which diagonally crossed our left, across which these rebels had formed, and waving his sword toward them, cried out, "Come in, Johnnies! We won't hurt you. Come in!" We could look into their very faces. We could almost see the whites of their eyes. They were the veterans of A. P. Hill, Lane's brigade,[13] of Heth's division. As far as we could distinguish weapons they were standing at ordered arms. Captain Buffum was but ten yards from them, and going toward their line, when he was answered by a murderous volley, which will never be forgotten by any who survived it. And never shall we forget the splendid coolness and courage of Captain Buffum as he came back to the line, and amid the confusion which followed this terrible attack, calmly faced two or three companies to the left, and gave the order,—"Let them have it!" Though suffering fearfully the regiment behaved nobly. The attack was terrific. It was the most awful moment of our history. Yet the regiment was equal to the emergency, and its stand, it is believed, saved the division from panic or capture. The left was gradually drawn back from the colors, and soon the entire left wing presented a front to the enemy. Lying upon the ground, loading and firing rapidly, pouring upon the enemy a low fire which was most effective and deadly, they maintained the unequal contest until an order came down from the right for the whole line to charge. Then, rising to their feet in the midst of the awful fire, with an alacrity and courage beyond this feeble praise, the regiment was rushing toward the enemy, when loud cheers were heard upon our left, and in another moment we were joined by the gallant Twenty-first Massachusetts,—the right regiment of the First Division line,—which came up on the double quick to prolong the line of battle. Cheer answered cheer, and both regiments charged the enemy, who was driven back to his intrenchments with great loss, leaving his killed and wounded in our possession. Two lines of detached rifle-pits were taken, with some prisoners, and the right brigade carried a portion of the enemy's main line and captured two pieces of artillery; but in a little while the enemy made a most furious attack, and the connection with the Second Corps on the right was broken; the right was turned and forced out of the works.

Soon after, a general attack along the whole line was ordered, and the regiment advanced; but the enemy's works at this point were too strong to be carried. The rebels made several attempts to regain the ground we had occupied, but were driven back each time with severe loss. Several times orders were given from the right or left to attack, but the assaults were successful only at isolated points. Along the Third Division front the fighting was unusually desperate and bloody. Charges and counter-charges were made and repulsed. In the "death angle" on the right of our division the fighting was the most sanguinary of the war. The enemy made the most desperate attempts to recover the works, but every attack was repulsed with great slaughter. About noon we strengthened our skirmish line, which was very close to the enemy's position, and a temporary line of rifle-pits was thrown up, which afforded partial shelter. Slowly the terrible day of Spottsylvania dragged on. The mist of the morning was but the prelude to a heavy storm; at times the rain fell in torrents.

After the excitement of the attack had somewhat subsided a spirit of deep sadness pervaded the regiment. Comrades and friends had been stricken in death. Those dismal woods had been the scene of their last conflict; and many a companion of weary marches and lonely picket, many a tried and trusted comrade, was sleeping in death. Of the commissioned officers, Captain Bailey, the beloved commander of Co. G, had received a mortal wound. Corporal Hall, of his company, was one of the first to fall in our close conflict with the enemy, when we received the volley with which the battle for us opened, and some of his comrades carried him a few steps to the rear of our line of battle. Captain Bailey moved at once to the spot, and as he was bending over the dying corporal, a minie ball entered the captain's forehead, and he fell forward upon the corporal's body. Some of his men carried him to the field hospital; but nothing could be done for him. He breathed all day; but consciousness did not return, and at nightfall he died. And so we were called to part with a faithful officer and a noble-hearted companion. He had entered the service with a patriotic desire to serve his country; and his last words to those whom he loved, written after the battle of the Wilderness, showed that he had counted the cost, and was willing, if need be, to lay down his life in the endeavor to secure the great objects for which on our part the war was waged.

Captain Morse, of Company C, and Orderly Sergeant White, commanding Company I, had both been badly wounded, and taken to the rear. The loss of the regiment in its non-commissioned officers was especially severe. They were rising steadily from the ranks to fill the vacancies in the line to which their bravery and capacity entitled them. These men had conferred honor upon the regiment, and many of them had won the highest respect and affection of their commanding officers. Under any circumstances their loss to the regiment would have been deplorable; at such a time it seemed to us irreparable. The day had been to the regiment a literal baptism of fire and blood; but before its close we were destined to sustain another severe loss in the death of First Lieutenant Henry W. Daniels, commanding Company H. He had been in command of the skirmish line all day, and toward evening came in to report the condition of the line, get ammunition and receive instructions for the night. He said he had fired considerably during the day and had attracted the attention of the enemy. He left us with the repeated caution from Captain Barker not to expose himself unnecessarily. He had been at his post but a little while when Sergeant Woodward, who was standing in the main line, saw him fall, and cried out, "My God! the lieutenant is shot!" His head was pierced by a minie ball, and he who but a few moments before had left us in the full strength and courage of early manhood was brought back a corpse. Comrade Bartlett, who was on the skirmish line, thus relates the circumstances of his death: "I was on the line about two rods distant from him. He had just come out with ammunition for us. A rebel sharp-shooter in a tree on our right had troubled us exceedingly. Lieutenant Daniels took a musket to bring him down, as he could see by the smoke when he fired about where he was. After discharging the piece without effect, he had reloaded and raised it to his shoulder to fire the second time when he was shot by the sharp-shooter, and fell dead." This event was a sad ending of a terrible day, and cast a gloom upon all. We were pained at the recollection that the last days of his life were saddened by the death of his brother Myron in the Wilderness, only six days before, and our hearts went out in sympathy toward the kindred of all our slain in northern homes; and, as we thought of the many scenes of peril through which we must pass, and the certainty of death which awaited many, we cried, in the anguish and bitterness of heart, "How long, O Lord, how long?"

The loss in the regiment in this action, including the Twenty-ninth men, was, killed, twenty-seven; wounded, seventy; missing,[14] ten; total, one hundred and seven.

The list, as far as can be ascertained, is as follows:—

The most severe loss was sustained by Company D,[16] which lost seven killed and nine wounded,—a total of sixteen. The loss in the brigade in killed, wounded, and missing was four hundred and fifty-one; in the division one thousand one hundred and ninety-three.

During the entire night of the 12th the men were hard at work felling trees and erecting breastworks, and by daylight we had a strong defensive line. The 13th passed without special incident. The skirmish-firing was sharp and unremitting, and one man, Private William H. Doyle, Company B, was badly wounded. A feeling of dread uncertainty pervaded the troops. An assault upon the enemy's works was ordered, but before any movement could be made the order was countermanded. At times the rain fell in torrents, and our position was very uncomfortable.

On the 14th the men belonging to the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts, whose term of service expired that day, were sent to the rear to be transported to Washington for muster-out. They were followed, on the 16th, by the remainder of that regiment, seventy-six in number, whose terms of service expired at various dates between the 14th and 21st of May. Immediately after the action of the 12th the attention of General Burnside was called to the circumstances of the case, and he at once ordered that the survivors should now have their discharge, and caused them to be sent to Washington. The departure of these comrades caused a material reduction of our effective strength; but we rejoiced in their good fortune, and bade them God-speed homeward. We regarded them as brothers, and parted from them with deep regret. They were transferred to our regiment on the 30th of January, 1864, while in Tennessee, under circumstances of peculiar hardship, owing to what has always been considered a too literal interpretation of a general order. For more than three months they had been identified with our command in all the hardships and privations of the spring of 1864. They evinced the spirit of true Massachusetts soldiers, and nobly performed their duty to the last hour of their service. Their courage and devotion at Spottsylvania are worthy of the highest praise. Eight of these men, Sergeants Mosher and Hamer, Privates Mansfield, Alexander, Fisher, Ward, Morton, and Murphy, having but a few, some of them only two, days longer to serve to complete the honorable record of three years' service, went into that battle and sealed their devotion by pouring out their blood and dying in defence of the nation's honor. To us it seemed hard, indeed, that these men could not have been sent to the rear on the morning of that day, or assigned to some duty whereby that sacrifice need not have been extorted. But, like good soldiers, they went forward as ever under the folds of the flag that before nightfall was to be crimsoned with their blood. All honor to the noble band, also, twelve in number, who were wounded on that day; and all honor to the gallant regiment in which they were trained to such performance of duty!

The storm continued throughout the 14th. In the night the enemy drove in our pickets three times, and the men were under arms, hoping that the enemy would attack the main line. This, however, they declined to do. Sunday, the 15th, was stormy and dismal. The long rain rendered our position very trying and uncomfortable. We had but little shelter, and the exposure to the constant bad weather, the scarcity of food, the want of sleep, and the mental strain, now began to have perceptible effect. Many cases of sickness were reported, and Assistant-Surgeon Bryant, the only medical officer with the regiment, afforded what relief the limited means at hand would permit. The supply of ammunition was replenished, and the lines were thoroughly inspected by General Potter, who ordered a traverse built in rear of our regiment. Although the weather was dark and gloomy, and there were many discouraging circumstances, the day was rendered comparatively happy by the arrival of Captain Smith, First Lieutenant Brigham, and nine non-commissioned officers, who had been absent since February on recruiting service in Massachusetts. They received a soldier's welcome, and proved to be a timely and valuable reinforcement.

On the 16th Captain Buffum, in charge of the skirmish line, advanced the pickets, and strengthened and improved the front line. This was not agreeable to the enemy, who made several ineffectual attempts to force us back. A strong demonstration was made on our part, and the firing was severe. The enemy was found to be in full force, and no attack was made. Cannonading and skirmishing continued through the 17th, and the position of some of the corps was changed. The Fifth and Sixth Corps moved to the left, leaving only Birney's division of the Second Corps on the right of the Ninth. Corporal Marcus Keep, of Co. E, was mortally wounded. During the night it became evident that a new movement was on foot. Troops were in line of battle in our rear, and we were ordered to be in readiness to move in any direction at a moment's notice. At four o'clock, on the morning of the 18th, the artillery opened along the entire line, under cover of which a portion of the Second Corps, with the Second Brigade of our division, made a vigorous attack upon the enemy's line. The enemy had slashed timber along his front, and the abatis was almost impenetrable, and by eleven o'clock, after three attempts to storm the works, the effort was abandoned, although considerable ground was gained, and a good position secured. The enemy's artillery fire was very severe, and directed especially against our division; but the loss in our brigade was very slight. Toward evening the attacking column was withdrawn, and the Second Brigade was massed in our rear.

The newly commissioned chaplain, Rev. Nathaniel Richardson, reported on the 18th, and was assigned to duty in the Field Hospital, among the sick and wounded.

At midnight the regiment was aroused by an aide-de-camp, and ordered to move silently and rapidly to the rear. Upon reaching the open ground, where we formed on the morning of the 12th, we filed toward the left of the line, and after a very tedious march, over rough corduroy, stumps, and fallen timber, halted at daylight near the Anderson house, where a large portion of the army was massed. At eight o'clock the corps marched by the flank toward the left, in a southerly direction, and while on the march were passed by Generals Grant, Meade, and Burnside, who were greeted with loud cheering. It soon became evident that a general movement was in progress. After marching three or four miles a halt was ordered, and the division filed into a large open field, and went into line of battle on the left of the corps; afterwards the division was faced to the left, and formed in two lines of battle, the First Brigade in front. The brigade was then formed in column by regiments, the Thirty-sixth being in front, and moved forward across the field to the edge of a forest, where companies A and G were deployed as skirmishers under the eye of General Potter. We moved through a belt of fine woods, and halted in front of a broad, open plain, at a point where three roads intersected. Here we were ordered to intrench. A high rail fence formed the basis of the line, and in a little while we had a strong defence. Jones' Eleventh Massachusetts Battery was put in position on our left, and by noon the line was firmly established, and the men lay down to enjoy the much-needed rest.

That afternoon we received the first mail since leaving Catlett's, fifteen days before; and many hearts were made happy by loving words from home. The dangers and fatigues of the past two weeks were soon forgotten or transcribed to paper, for we now had our first opportunity for writing as well as receiving letters. Scattered through the woods in all directions could be seen the brave soldiers, who but yesterday were engaged in deadly conflict, recounting to the loved ones at home the story of the marches, bloody battles, and sad losses of the past two weeks. Ours was, proverbially, a "letter-writing" regiment, and the mail for our single regiment often exceeded that of the remainder of the brigade.

The camp at this place was greatly enjoyed. Baggage was brought up from the rear, shelter tents were pitched, and the men improved all the opportunities for rest. A strong force reconnoitred toward Stannard's Mills, on the Po river, and returned safely, having found no enemy within five miles of our position. Heavy firing continued on our right, and an attempt of Early's corps to turn the right flank, and seize the Fredericksburg road, was splendidly repulsed by a division of heavy artillery regiments on their way to the front to reinforce the army.

But, like all other pleasant experiences in a soldier's life, this rest was soon to end. At half-past three o'clock, on the afternoon of the 21st, we received orders to break camp, and the brigade, with Jones' battery, was ordered to take possession of the crossing of the Po river at Stannard's Mills. After marching about five miles the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, which was in the advance, encountered the enemy's pickets, and after a lively fight drove them across the river. Upon our further advance we uncovered a battery of three guns, posted near the river, which opened upon us with a heavy fire of shell and canister. Colonel Curtin formed his line of battle in the woods near the river, and the skirmishers became briskly engaged along the river's banks. General Potter came up at this time to examine the position of the enemy, which was found to be strongly intrenched. While searching for a ford by which to cross and attack, orders were received to suspend the attack, and our brigade and Jones' battery were left in position, to prevent the enemy from crossing, while the remainder of the column moved, by way of Smith's Mills, to Downer's bridge.

The day had been pleasant and very hot; but at dusk, just as we had completed our movement, a heavy rain set in. We were in close proximity to a watchful enemy, and were obliged to maintain the utmost vigilance and quiet. We had no blankets nor shelter of any kind, and were not allowed to kindle fires, and, in consequence, passed a most dreary and uncomfortable night. Troops were marching in rear of our line all night, and before daylight our brigade was withdrawn and moved forward on the Telegraph road southward.