July 28th. A day of anxiety and suspense. The troops expected an explosion of the mine, and an assault upon the enemy's lines. A great force on fatigue duty, carrying out bags, barrels, gabions, and stakes, and preparing the covered ways and traverses to facilitate the movements of troops. During the afternoon three pieces of the Third Vermont Artillery bombarded a house just inside the rebel works in our front, and finally demolished it. It was a busy day along the lines.

July 29th. Another long, anxious day. The regiment was on duty in the front line. The weather was excessively hot. The position of the enemy was examined and our own works were visited by many general and staff officers, and there were certain indications all around us of an impending attack. All sorts of rumors prevailed, and various theories were advanced; but toward night we received positive information that the mine will be exploded at half-past three to-morrow morning. The Ninth Corps is to attack as soon as the explosion occurs. General Meade has overruled General Burnside's plan of attacking with the colored division, and ordered him to select one of his white divisions to lead the assault. The position has been determined by lot, and fallen to General Ledlie and the First Division. Our men would be more hopeful of the result had the choice fallen upon General Potter. Our division is to support the attack. We are to be relieved in the trenches by colored troops of the Eighteenth Corps, and form with the division as soon as relieved. Toward evening troops were massed in our rear, filling all the covered ways and passages leading to the front line. Reserves from other corps filled our camp in the woods. The troops were under arms all night.

Before daylight on the 30th the regiments on our right and left had been relieved. Notice was sent two or three times that no relief had been sent to our regiment, and each time the order came back to hold the line until relieved. All our efforts to have the relief on our right and left extend so as to cover our front having failed, we were obliged to remain on duty in the pits. Before the sun had reached the meridian we were satisfied that what we regarded a great misfortune proved to be our salvation. Colonel Pleasants was directed to explode the mine at half-past three o'clock A.M. The First Division was ordered to charge through the aperture which would be made in the enemy's works and advance directly to the crest, or Cemetery Hill. The Third Division was ordered to cover the left. The Second Division was ordered to advance, if possible, to the right of the explosion, and to establish a line on the crest of a ravine running nearly at right angles to the enemy's line, and protect the right flank from the enemy's attack. At the appointed hour the fuse was lighted, and all waited in deep silence for the expected explosion. On account of dampness the fuse was extinguished, and the valuable time slipped rapidly away. We all know the story of the brave Lieut. Doughty and Sergeant Reeves, of the Forty-eighth, who nobly volunteered to go into the mine to ascertain the cause of failure to explode. The break in the fuse was found and relighted. At forty-two minutes past four we witnessed a volcano and experienced an earthquake. With a tremendous burst, which shook the hills around, a column of earth shot upwards to an enormous height, bearing the "Elliot salient," its guns and garrison, and making a crater or chasm one hundred and thirty-five feet long, ninety-seven feet wide, and more than thirty feet deep. The garrison, consisting of two hundred and seventy-eight men of the Eighteenth and Twenty-second South Carolina and Pegram's Petersburg Battery, were completely buried. Pleasants' work had been terribly successful. Before the deafening report of the explosion had subsided more than one hundred pieces of artillery along the line opened a terrific fire, adding grandeur to the scene. Under cover of this fire the First Division charged over the intervening space into the crater, but halted there instead of moving forward. General Griffin's brigade of our division began to move almost at once, passing through and into a portion of the line from which the rebels were driven, and moved to the right. The smoke and dust were so dense at this time that nothing could be seen, and the leading regiments got farther to the left than was intended, coming thus in contact with some of the troops of the First Division. The movement was also embarrassed by some of the First Division moving to the right and huddling in the vacant works instead of moving forward. When our brigade moved forward through the covered way, the men became intermixed with troops of another corps, who were moving out. Still the main portion kept on its way, crossed the cornfield and passed into the crater, under a fearful fire of the enemy, who had now somewhat recovered from the first alarm, and had returned to man their deserted works.

The troops of the Second Division moved forward as best they could; but as the First Division had halted, and would not move forward, it was almost impossible to make any progress. The ground to the right of the crater was found to be much cut up with small pits and traverses, which were now filled by the enemy, who kept up a severe fire from these as well as from a line of pits on the ravine. Finding that General Griffin's brigade, which had lost heavily, was being thrown into confusion by being mixed with the troops of other divisions, and that the enemy was rallying rapidly, General Potter directed him to move forward without any reference to other troops and attack the enemy in front. In passing his command over and through the troops which were in confusion Griffin's brigade became much broken up. The fire by this time was very hot, and it was impossible to properly re-form his ranks. However, several pits of the enemy were charged and some ground was gained.

Our brigade commander was ordered to follow on, with such troops as he had, and closely support and cover the right flank. He sent forward the Fifty-eighth Massachusetts, Fourth Rhode Island, and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, to form on the right, leaving the Seventh Rhode Island in reserve, and holding the Second and Fifty-first New York to send forward if there was room. Finding that he could not get in, in consequence of the stopping of troops, and the great confusion caused by a crowd of troops in such limited space, he was ordered to move a portion of the brigade to the right, and charge down the enemy's line, and also, at the same time, to attack the enemy at the ravine. The Fifty-eighth Massachusetts, Fourth Rhode Island, and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania were formed to charge down the enemy's line to the right, and the two New York regiments to attack near the ravine. This last attack was to instantly follow the first, as soon as the colors of the leading regiments could be seen moving forward.

The ground over which the first three regiments was to charge was an open field, fully in range of the enemy's musketry and artillery. Just as the troops were moving forward, the direction of these regiments was changed, in compliance with a peremptory order from General Burnside to attack the crest. Accordingly these three regiments charged directly up the hill toward the battery in the woods. The charge was a gallant one, under a murderous fire of grape and canister from the enemy's artillery, which was brought to bear from every direction; yet the little band kept on, and the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania had nearly reached the house on the top of the hill, when the line wavered, and, for want of support, was obliged to fall back to the covered way or ditch leading to the work which had been previously taken.

While this was being done the two New York regiments charged the enemy at the ravine: the Second New York on the right, and the Fifty-first on the left of it, some considerable distance intervening. The line was carried and some prisoners captured. The position reached by the Second New York was within twenty yards of the rebel fort at the old barn. By this time Griffin's brigade had been extricated from the terrible confusion near the crater, and had moved forward slowly, under a hot fire, a step at a time, and the whole of the Second Division was beyond the enemy's line and to the right of the exploded fort. As General Potter was re-forming and connecting his lines preparatory to charging the hill, the Fourth Division (colored) unexpectedly advanced, and attempted to pass over the men in the crater, and charge the enemy's lines through our division. In this they were but partially successful. General Potter, at the time the colored division moved out, had the right of his division nearly connected with the Fifty-first New York, near the ravine, and partly covered the three regiments which had charged the hill and fallen back into the covered way. Soon after the arrival of the colored troops the enemy, with two divisions, under Generals Mahone and Ransom, made an assault, when these troops broke and fled in confusion into the crater. The situation, difficult enough before their arrival, now became alarming. An indescribable scene of confusion followed. Colors of our regiments, which had been planted on the parapets, were thrown down and trampled under foot in the dirt as the lines came crowding into the crater, or sought shelter wherever it could be found from the terrible fire that was poured upon them. White men and colored lay indiscriminately together.

The enemy's fierce assault was repulsed by our division. It was, however, immediately renewed, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued. The brigade fought as men seldom fight. The Forty-fifth Pennsylvania captured a rebel flag, and Captain Gregg had a personal encounter with a rebel officer, which made him famous throughout the division. The color-bearers of the Fifty-eighth Massachusetts were both wounded and captured. The colors of two other regiments which had been planted on the parapet were literally torn to pieces and the staves broken. The losses in killed and wounded were very great, and more than one hundred prisoners were captured from the Fifty-eighth Massachusetts and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania.

The fighting up to this time was as desperate as any during the war. For five long hours of that intensely hot day the troops of our division had been actively engaged, exposed to a severe fire of artillery and musketry, which steadily increased until it became as terrible as any endured in the campaign. The enemy brought artillery to bear from every direction, commanding the front and flanks, sweeping, also, the rear of the line, and commanding all the approaches, inflicting great damage. The heat was overpowering. In addition to the killed and wounded more than two hundred in our division had been prostrated by heat. Hundreds of men, besides, were so exhausted physically that it was simply impossible for them to load and fire. They suffered greatly from thirst, as it was impossible to obtain any water. The fire from our line had slackened considerably, while that of the enemy steadily increased. A steady concentric fire was poured into the crater, and the horrors of that place cannot be adequately portrayed.

The enemy had been so roughly handled in their assault after the colored troops had fallen back that they did not seem inclined to renew it, but kept up a continuous fire at short range which was very effective. Although it had been a lost battle since morning, General Potter at noon was making preparations to connect the line and intrench it, when he received orders to withdraw his troops at discretion. But this was a most difficult movement to execute, on account of the mingled mass of troops in the crater, and an attempt to retire was to run the gauntlet of almost certain death. There were some brave spirits there who endeavored to restore order, and inspire courage to make a stand to cover the withdrawal. While the troops were retiring the enemy made a furious assault with a fresh division, in overwhelming numbers, on the lines about the crater, and forced the troops holding them to give way and fall back or surrender. Those escaped who could, and at two o'clock those remaining in the crater surrendered. Most of the troops of the Second Division were withdrawn, the last regiment to retire being the Second New York Rifles, at four o'clock, two hours after the surrender of the crater.

The loss of the division in the action was nine hundred and three killed, wounded, and missing, including seventy-five commissioned officers, out of less than three thousand rank and file, including two batteries of artillery. The brigade lost two hundred and seventy-one, which was very severe, considering the numbers engaged. The Forty-fifth Pennsylvania lost sixty-eight out of eighty[20] taken into the fight, and the Fifty-eighth Massachusetts brought out only twenty-eight muskets out of nearly two hundred engaged. The losses in the other three regiments engaged were less severe. The heroic bravery of the brigade was never more conspicuously displayed than amid the trials of that dreadful day. "All the officers and men of the command," says General Potter, in his official report, "fought with the greatest courage and determination."

At four o'clock in the afternoon, as the Second New York Rifles returned from the rebel lines and marched through our pits with colors flying high above the top of the pits, our men told them they had better lower their colors unless they wanted to draw the enemy's fire and receive a shelling. They gave no heed to the caution and kept the flags flying. The words were scarcely uttered before we heard the never-to-be-forgotten whistle of a mortar shell, and the next instant it struck squarely in the pits and exploded within three feet of the colors. None were killed; but one of the Second New York had a hand blown off, and one of our men had his face filled with the hard dirt from the bottom of the pits. The shot had the effect to bring down the flags to a trail, and the regiment, with bowed heads, passed out of the pits.

That evening the remnant of the brigade resumed its position in the trenches, and picket-firing was renewed. During the evening Private J. Wesley Packard, of Company B, was shot in the head and instantly killed while standing as sentinel at a loop-hole from which he had fired several shots which attracted the attention of the sharp-shooters. He had returned from the General Hospital only three days before, had picked up a musket and equipments in the rear, and this was his first day's duty in the trenches. Private J. L. Walker, of Company E, was badly wounded in the thigh.

Thus ended a day which proved to be the saddest in the history of the Ninth Corps. Its total loss was three thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight men. We have not attempted to describe the action, or even to give a complete narrative of the part taken by our own division. The action has been the subject of investigation and discussion by Congressional Committees, Military Courts, historians, and critics. Hundreds of pages of testimony and reports have been printed. Wide differences of opinion have existed, and still exist. It is no part of our duty to attempt to reconcile these differences, but only to record our part in the great drama, and leave to future historians the task of weighing arguments and the incidents of that dreadful day, and the responsibility of awarding praise and censure. Of one fact, however, we may be certain. Other troops than the white divisions of the Ninth Corps should have been selected to enter the breach and make the assault. Not that these were wanting in courage and devotion to the cause. The record of their bravery from the Rapidan to Petersburg is unsurpassed in the annals of that campaign; but from the commencement of the siege they had become much worn down by constant labors in the trenches, under an almost incessant fire for a period of forty days, in which they lost on the average one man in eight. During all these days, from a distance of less than two hundred yards, they had surveyed the powerful works of the enemy becoming stronger and stronger by day and by night. The fire of the rebel sharp-shooters had been so close and unerring that no portion of the body could be for a moment exposed without drawing the deadly bullet. The labor under a broiling midsummer sun had been most exhaustive. Many of the men were enfeebled by disease, all were weakened by confinement, and the experiences of such a life as we had led for six weeks, had, in a measure, weakened the vigor and spirit of all. It was General Burnside's plan to assault with the colored division, which had been drilled for weeks for that special purpose. They were fresh, and had taken but little part in the campaign. The fighting at Petersburg on the 15th of June by the colored troops of the Eighteenth Corps had aroused a spirit of emulation, and they were anxious for the opportunity of taking part in the campaign. Many who saw their advance on the 30th were satisfied that, if they had been permitted to lead the assault, they would have secured the crest of Cemetery Hill, and achieved a brilliant victory. Such was the opinion of the lieutenant-general before the Committee on the Conduct of the War.