The Regiment Leaves Antietam—March to Harper’s Ferry—The Reconnoissance to Charlestown, Va.—The Loudon Valley Campaign—Change of Commanders—The Green Flag Affair—Battle of Fredericksburg—Winter Camp—Death of Chaplain Hempstead—Close of the Second Year’s Service—Complimentary Correspondence Concerning the Regiment.

After attending to the sad duties of burying the dead on the 19th of September, the regiment, at three o’clock in the afternoon, was sent to the rear, and remained in the near vicinity of the field till the 22d, during a part of which time it performed picket duty. On the morning of the last-named day, it started for Harper’s Ferry, passing through the village of Sharpsburg, fording Antietam Creek at “The Iron Works.” The village of Sharpsburg was in the thick of the fight. On the side of the town fronting the Federal line of battle, nearly every house was shattered or marked by balls. The “Dunker Church,” or “School-house,” as it was called by our soldiers, on the outskirts of the town, and much nearer the field, was a complete wreck. The description given of its appearance by a negro, who lived near the field, is quite as truthful as original: “It was well smashed to pieces; all made like a riddle; you could jest look in and out where you pleased.”

When the battle began, on the morning of the 17th, the inhabitants of the village, about one thousand in number, fled from their houses and took refuge at a place some two miles distant, in a forest near the river, where they would have been in a sad plight if our army had followed the retreating Confederates on the 19th. “When our troops passed through the town, the most of the houses were still vacant, and our soldiers, somewhat destitute of rations, helped themselves to such articles of food, stray poultry, pigs, and so forth, as the enemy had left untouched. A woman living in this village, being afterwards questioned by a distinguished writer, who visited the place, as to which army did the most pilfering, replied as follows: “The rebels took, but the Yankees took right smart!”

Toward sundown of the 22d, the regiment reached Harper’s Ferry, and forded the Potomac River; the water at the point of crossing was in many places nearly waist-deep; the current was strong, and rushed over huge rocks, broken, jagged, and slippery. In crossing, many lost their footing and fell, receiving bruises; while the horses stumbled and floundered so badly that their riders were obliged to dismount.

At Harper’s Ferry, the Potomac and Shenandoah unite their waters, and flow through a deep gorge in the Blue Ridge. The land is mountainous and broken for miles around. A little west of the village, on the Virginia side of the river, are Bolivar Heights, while on the north, just across the Potomac, and nearly opposite, on the Maryland side, are Maryland Heights. “No doubt,” says Trowbridge, who visited this spot, “there was once a stupendous cataract here, pouring its shining sheet toward the morning sun from a vast inland sea; for the tourist still finds, far up the steep face of the mountains, dimples which in past ages ceaselessly whirling water-eddies made.” Upon gaining the Virginia shore of the Potomac, the regiment with its Brigade passed through the town of Harper’s Ferry, ascended Bolivar Heights, and encamped near the spot where Colonel Miles, on the 15th of September, disgracefully surrendered his army of over 11,000 men to General Jackson. When the enemy evacuated Harper’s Ferry, they burned all the bridges that crossed the river at this place, but on the 24th, our troops constructed a pontoon bridge, and thus re-established easy communication between the two shores.

On the 25th, the Irish Brigade was augmented by the addition of the One Hundred and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania Regiment, and on the 27th, moved its camp down the side of Bolivar Heights to near the Potomac. About this time, Captain Henry R. Sibley, who had a narrow escape from death at Antietam, left for home on sick leave, and the command of Company H devolved upon First Lieutenant Daniel W. Lee, an efficient and conscientious soldier, who, on the 14th of the following January, was commissioned Captain. Captain Sibley never again joined the regiment; a severe and nearly fatal illness followed his return to Massachusetts. Careful medical treatment so far restored him, however, that in June, 1863, he accepted an appointment as Commissary of Subsistence of Volunteers, with the rank of Captain. Upon receiving this appointment, he was ordered to report at New Orleans, where he served honorably for several months, taking part, while in that department, in the movement to Sabine Pass, and in the second Teche and the Red River expeditions. He afterwards served on the staff of Major-General Emory, in the Shenandoah Valley; and at a later period in the war, upon the staffs of Generals Torbett and Hancock. Early in 1865, he was promoted to be Lieutenant-Colonel, and left the service in December, 1865, with the brevet rank of Colonel of Volunteers. He was a very faithful and intelligent soldier, and since the war has been honored with many positions of trust.

On the first day of October, the Brigade was reviewed by President Lincoln, Generals McClellan, Sumner, and Hancock. From this time till the 16th, the Brigade remained in this position, performing picket and drill duty. The new movement of the army into Virginia was close at hand, and feints, strategic operations, and reconnoissances were now frequently occurring. The march on Charlestown, about ten miles from Harper’s Ferry, where the enemy had a small force, was one of the movements preliminary to the grand movement of the whole army.

On the night of the 16th, the entire division received orders to be in readiness to march at daybreak the next morning. On the morning of the 17th, the troops left their camp and started for Charlestown; the day was chilly and the roads muddy. The enemy’s pickets were driven out of the town after some sharp skirmishing, and our division marched in and occupied it, the Twenty-ninth Regiment and the rest of the Irish Brigade being thrown out in advance of the other troops into a field on the outskirts of the town, and in the near vicinity of the spot where John Brown was executed. Near at hand, also, was the jail where the old hero had been confined, and the court-house where he had been tried and received his sentence of death; facts which added somewhat to the interest of the expedition, but did not detract from the discomforts caused by the weather, for when the night set in it began to rain. The enemy were close by, and the utmost watchfulness was necessary, giving the men no opportunity to protect themselves from exposure. The soldiers were thoroughly drenched by the storm, and as soon as it was dark, though on the front line, they began to build fires and make coffee; but quickly the order came for all fires to be extinguished. Later in the night, the report was received that General McClellan had dashed into town accompanied by his entire staff, and with the report came an order to rekindle the fires, and for each man to build two. The order was a welcome one, given probably, not out of consideration for the sufferings of the men, but to create the impression in the enemy’s lines that McClellan had occupied the town in force; and to help on the ruse, the citizens were permitted to pass out and convey to their friends the report, then current, that our army was moving on Winchester. Suddenly, the next morning, when all were expecting a forward movement, the division was ordered to fall back to Halltown. Here it spent another night, quite as severe as the one which had preceded it, and on the morning of the 19th, returned to Harper’s Ferry. No further movement took place till the 29th of October, when the whole army began its march to Falmouth, down the Loudon Valley. On this day, quite late in the afternoon, the regiment left its camp, crossed the Shenandoah on a pontoon bridge, and followed the Potomac down, on the Virginia side, passing over a rough road at the base of Bolivar Heights. The scenery was fine, but the march was mostly performed after dark. Camped in “Pleasant Valley”; weather cool.

October 30. Started at sunrise. The entire Army of the Potomac was moving in the same direction. After a few hours the division divided, the two parts marching in line of battle on opposite sides of the road. Finally the cavalry, batteries, and teams came up, and the camp was formed. Weather fine.

October 31. Regiment ordered for picket, two miles from camp. The several companies were posted on the different roads to watch the enemy. Mustered for pay.

November 1. Ordered back to camp, and upon reaching it, were ordered to march. Went six miles and halted for the night.

November 2 (Sunday). Called into line at daybreak. After going a short distance, deployed into a field, and marched in line of battle over fields and fences, till opposite the entrance to Snicker’s Gap, when a halt was made, and the batteries came up and took position. Just prior to this, as the skirmishers of the Irish Brigade came up with the enemy’s cavalry at this gap, a lively fight ensued, in the course of which Major O’Neil, of General Meagher’s staff, was captured. Our cavalry, however, followed up the enemy and recaptured the gallant Major, who seems to have been peculiarly unfortunate, having before been captured at the battle of Gaines’ Mill.

November 3. The regiment was detailed for ammunition guard. Marched five miles and encamped on a beautiful farm. Weather cool, but fine.

November 4. Drew one day’s rations. Pleasanton’s cavalry, numbering about six thousand, and ten batteries, started with the regiment on the march this morning, which began very early.

November 5. Marched seven miles and encamped on the side of a rough, broken hill. The wind was high and cold, and at midnight it rose to a gale, accompanied by snow and rain.

November 6. Started early, and marched through Piedmont, where the railroad passes. Travelled ten miles and camped for the night. One hundred men detailed for picket under Captain Doten. Very cold, and toward night it began to snow. Colonel Barnes was officer of the day; the guards were posted in a forest, about a mile from camp; the wind blew a gale, and the night was so dark, that the officers in command of the pickets found it impossible to establish the line. When daylight came, the ground was covered with snow to the depth of several inches. Upon reaching camp early in the morning, it was found that the other regiments in the Brigade were preparing to march, while the men of the Twenty-ninth, who had remained in camp, were still asleep in their tents. General Meagher observing at this moment the lack of preparation on the part of the regiment, rode down to the camp, and accosting Colonel Barnes, inquired the reason why the regiment was not under arms. The Colonel told the General they had received no orders to that effect, whereupon the Adjutant-General of the Brigade was taken to task, and a disturbance at headquarters seemed imminent. But it afterwards transpired that such orders had been given to a certain officer of the regiment, and that he had neglected to transmit them. This piece of negligence resulted in giving the boys a severe march that day; for while they were preparing to move, the rest of the Brigade started, and was not overtaken till late in the afternoon.

On this day, the news of the death of Major-General Richardson, who formerly commanded the division, reached the regiment. General Richardson died at the house of Mr. Pry, near the battle-field of Antietam, from the effects of the wound received in that battle, and his death cast a deep shadow of gloom over the entire army, and particularly over the Second Corps, in which he had long served, and in connection with which he had won a most enviable reputation as a brave and skilful soldier. The loss of such an officer as General Richardson was an event which might well have called forth a more universal expression of sorrow.

The 7th of November also witnessed a change in the command of the Army of the Potomac, though this was not known to the troops till the 9th, when the fact was promulgated by general order. At this time the army was massed in and near Warrenton; and here the farewell address of General McClellan, and the order of General Burnside, announcing his assumption of the command of the army, were read to each regiment.

The Twenty-ninth arrived at Warrenton on the 9th, where it remained for several days inactive, as did the rest of the army here assembled. On the 15th, it started from its camp, marched nearly nine miles, passed through the village of Warrenton, and halted beside the road to spend the night. The movement of the army was in the direction of Falmouth, and on the following morning the regiment broke camp, being on the skirmish line a part of the time, and marching through morasses and tangled woods. The men had a severe day’s work. Water was scarce, and they were hurried along, with but few halts, till near sundown, going nearly twenty miles in the course of the day. When they stopped for the night, they threw themselves upon the ground in a sort of hopeless spirit, believing that the morrow would bring them another hard march. Their prediction proved true, for on the next day they were at the rear of the whole army, and had severe duty as guard of the wagon train, reaching Falmouth toward nightfall, when they found that their Brigade,—from which they had been separated during the day,—having been ordered by General Sumner to cross the Rappahannock to capture one of the enemy’s batteries, was rapidly moving towards the river. The regiment, without making a halt to rest, hurried forward to join their brave comrades in this perilous undertaking; but after proceeding a short distance, they learned that the order had been countermanded, meeting the other regiments of the Brigade returning to camp. General Hancock, commanding the division, complimented the Brigade for the quickness with which it moved after the order was given to cross the river, saying to General Meagher, “This is quick work, sir!”

While our army was at this point, Belle Plain Landing, on Potomac Creek, was its base of supplies. This Landing was only ten miles distant; but the railroads had been torn up by the enemy, and all the provisions were hauled over the rough, muddy roads in wagons. The enemy’s cavalry were constantly raiding over the country through which the roads passed, and every train went strongly guarded. On the 21st, a detail of fifty men was made from the Twenty-ninth, to guard a train of thirty-five teams, which went to the Landing for provisions; the roads were so heavy, that two days were occupied by the journey, several of the horses and mules dying on the way.

On the 22d, the regiment moved its camp in order to get out of the range of the enemy’s guns, which were stationed on the westerly side of the Rappahannock. Half of the term of enlistment of the seven old companies expired this day, and the men did not fail to speak of it, and make it a subject of conversation, recounting the experiences of the past, and speculating as to the year and a half before them.

November 27 was the day appointed for Thanksgiving in Massachusetts, and in most of the loyal States. The men had for dinner, “hard-tack” and salt beef. The Chaplain, Rev. Mr. Hempstead, read the proclamation of Governor Andrew, in which occurred the usual expressions of gratitude and thanks to God, for the bountiful harvests, and so forth. Although the fare of the soldiers had been of the coarsest and simplest quality, and their hardships and privations almost numberless, yet they had indeed much to be thankful for; their lives had been spared through great dangers, and their toils and hardships had been endured, to the end that the Republic might survive the shock of civil war.

About this time a little trouble arose concerning the proposed presentation of a green banner to the regiment. General Meagher and his brother officers of the Sixty-third, Sixty-ninth, and Eighty-eighth New York regiments had very kindly caused a fine silk Irish flag to be made in New York City for the Twenty-ninth Regiment, and had arranged for its presentation by General Sumner. It was intended that the gift should be of the nature of a surprise; but by some means, the project came to the knowledge of Colonel Barnes, who also learned that it was the desire of General Meagher that the flag should be carried by the regiment. While the Colonel would have been proud to receive the flag for the regiment as a token of the respect of their Irish comrades, yet he objected to the flag being carried by the regiment, on the ground that it was not an Irish regiment, feeling assured that this was the sentiment of the officers and men of his command. He accordingly made known to General Meagher these objections, whereupon the offer of the flag was withdrawn; and by arrangement of the parties interested, it was afterwards presented to another regiment.

Closely following this incident,—namely, November 30,—the Twenty-ninth was by order of General Sumner transferred from the Irish Brigade to that of Colonel B. C. Christ, General William W. Burns’s division of the Ninth Corps, the latter being then commanded by General Orlando B. Willcox.

On the 3d of December, the regiment was sent on picket opposite Fredericksburg. The Confederate pickets, on the opposite shore of the river, were poorly clad, only a small number having overcoats, though the weather was cold. On the next day, at dark, the regiment was relieved, and on the 5th, a detachment was again sent to Belle Plain as a guard to a wagon train; the weather was very severe, a cold, driving snow-storm lasting nearly all day. The movements of General Burnside, which resulted in the battle of Fredericksburg, were now in progress; inspections of the troops were frequent; and on the 9th, Colonel Barnes made an inspection of the arms and equipments of the regiment.

On the 10th, the men were ordered to have three days’ rations in their haversacks, and to have on hand sixty rounds of cartridges each.

On the morning of the 11th, the Brigade of Colonel Christ was ordered under arms, but did not march till nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. Upon reaching the river, the order was countermanded, and the Brigade returned to its camp, the men being allowed to enjoy a good night’s rest.

At eight o’clock on the morning of the 12th, the Brigade was again ordered under arms, marched to the river, and crossed on a pontoon bridge. The enemy had previously been dislodged from the formidable works on the water-side of the town, and hence no opposition was made to the crossing of the Brigade. The regiment remained near the river all day, and, except a portion of the afternoon, was not under fire. The air was filled with a thick fog, and was intensely cold; without tents or any adequate covering, the men spent that long, cheerless, winter night on the banks of the river, half paralyzed with the cold, waiting for the day to break, which, as they supposed, was to usher in a terrible battle, and in which it then seemed probable they would take a conspicuous part.

When the day came, the fog-cloud lifted, and the sun shed upon the waiting army its cheering beams of warm light. Soon after sunrise, the order came for the Brigade to form in line of battle, but it did not move till near nightfall. For the first time in its field life, the regiment was on the reserve line all day, but within full view of the battle, which raged and roared from sunrise till far into the night. When it was quite dark, the line was advanced into the outskirts of the town; the men not being permitted to enter the houses, remained in the streets. The battle had gone against us, and during the night some of the shattered regiments, which had been at the front all day, filed sadly through the streets on their way to the river, telling their story of disaster as they passed along.

Early in the morning of Sunday the 14th, the Brigade fell back, but still farther to the left, where they spent the day in quiet. The temptation to visit the deserted houses in the town was too great for many, and though the orders to the contrary were very imperative, yet not a few of the men left the lines upon various pretexts, and went sight-seeing. The effect of our shots upon the buildings was very severe, and the ruin and desolation thereby occasioned, furnished one of the saddest chapters in that campaign. Family portraits were torn from the walls of the dwellings, costly pianos and elegant furniture broken, marble mantles thrown down, and the cherished keepsakes of once happy families strewn about the floors and streets. In some instances huge shells had entered the buildings and exploded, tearing the walls open, leaving nothing but a mass of ruins; while in others, solid shots, speeding with the velocity of lightning, had passed entirely through the buildings, leaving black-looking but smoothly-cut apertures of the size of one’s head. “I had no temptation to take anything which I found in my searches through these shattered homes, though filled with many articles of great value. I was so impressed by these sad scenes of war, that I hastened back to my regiment, sorry to have witnessed such desolation and ruin,” says a soldier of the regiment, in a letter to his wife. These are the true sentiments of a good soldier, and if they had been more generally entertained by the soldiers of both armies, there would have been far less wanton and needless destruction of property during the war.

It was by a mere accident that the regiment did not become actively engaged in the battle. On the afternoon of the 13th, the division of General Burns was ordered to support General Franklin’s corps; in moving towards Franklin’s position, it became somewhat exposed to the artillery fire of the enemy, and Lieutenant Carpenter of Company H (Twenty-ninth), was slightly, and James L. Pettis of Company E severely, wounded. The other regiments of the Brigade (Christ’s) suffered some loss, the Twenty-seventh New Jersey, which was next the Twenty-ninth in the line, losing seventeen killed and wounded.40

After the Brigade retired from its advanced position, on Sunday the 14th, it formed near the gas-works, on the outskirts of the city. The enemy, from the heights beyond the town, occasionally threw a shot towards our lines, many of which struck the gasometer,—an iron structure,—glanced off with great fury, tearing away pieces of the iron, and throwing them about in various directions.

All during the 15th, the regiment had direct orders to hold itself in readiness to march at a moment’s warning. After dark, the men were directed to roll up their blankets, and were cautioned against lighting their pipes or kindling fires. All orders were passed along the line in low tones. It was apparent that some movement of importance was on foot, and it was soon discovered that our army was falling back across the river, a movement that was attended with great danger, inasmuch as the enemy was close at hand, and the river only passable by means of pontoons. Late in the afternoon, after it was decided to recross the river, the regiment was directed to remain until the other troops of the corps had crossed, when it was to remove three small pontoon bridges that had been thrown across a canal or creek which ran between the Rappahannock and the enemy’s works, and then emptied its waters into the river. The Brigade commander, Colonel Christ, intimated that he considered the undertaking a hazardous one, and scarcely worth the risk. The corps commenced crossing shortly after dark, the regiment remaining in its position until all were fairly across, and then moved forward and a considerable distance to the left, and commenced at once the work assigned to them. A captain, with a sufficient number of men, was detailed for each bridge, and the work went on rapidly and noiselessly, the regiment mean-while remaining in line of battle, ready for any emergency. It was remarkable that a work of this nature could be done so quietly; but the men, as well as the officers, fully realized the necessity of stillness. Only once in the course of the labor was any noise made, and this was caused by the falling of a plank against one of the boats. Even this noise was not great; but it seemed to the anxious listeners like a peal of thunder, that was likely to be followed by the crash of the enemy’s muskets. Fortunately it did not arouse the enemy; but it called out a large bloodhound, with powerful voice, which came running down to the opposite shore of the creek, and commenced baying and howling, keeping up its savage cries till the work was ended, annoying the men greatly, as they suspected that the next yelp would be followed by the enemy’s charging yell. Finally, after what seemed an age, but which in reality was only a short time, the three bridges were all removed, without the loss of a single piece, and the boats successfully floated across the Rappahannock. If the enemy had moved forward,—and it is surprising that they did not,—the result would have been disastrous to the regiment, perhaps cost it its very existence; and had this result followed, the attempt would have been deemed an act of folly. As it was, the plan was successfully carried out, and the regiment was warmly congratulated.

The first streaks of the morning light appeared in the eastern horizon before the men, worn by the fatigues of the night, reached their old camping-ground, on the northerly bank of the Rappahannock. The regiment escaped this battle with but two casualties; but had it remained with the Irish Brigade, which was at the front, and suffered terribly, probably nearly half its members would have been killed or wounded. To this circumstance chiefly,—one over which none of its officers had the slightest control,—it owes this remarkable piece of good fortune.

On the 21st of December, died Chaplain Hempstead, after a short illness. The position of a chaplain in the army was a peculiar one, and by many practical minds the office was regarded as one of doubtful utility, there seeming to be very little natural connection between the sacred and delicate duties of the saving of human souls and the stern and bloody work of man-killing. Neither the Act of Congress which provided for the appointment of chaplains, nor the Army Regulations, prescribed their duties, any further than to provide that they should render to the colonels of their regiments quarterly reports of “the moral and religious condition of the regiment, and such suggestions as may conduce to the social happiness and moral improvement of the troops.” Though the duties of these officers were not particularly specified, yet a conscientious chaplain had abundant chances to render great service in both a moral and social way. Such a chaplain was the Rev. Henry E. Hempstead. He was ever at the bedside of the sick and wounded soldier, attended to the distribution and forwarding of the mails (a service more keenly appreciated than most others by the soldiers), and in a thousand other ways endeared himself to the members of his regiment. He was the cherished companion for a long time of the heroic Arthur B. Fuller, Chaplain of the Sixteenth Massachusetts Regiment, and, strangely enough, the tragic death of the latter preceded that of Mr. Hempstead by only a few days.

On the 21st, the entire regiment was detailed for picket service on the river below Fredericksburg. The enemy’s pickets were on the opposite shore, and during the night threw up rifle-pits on the bluff. The soldiers of the two armies had been so long together in the various campaigns in which they had been engaged, and so often witnessed each others’ bravery and devotion, that a feeling of mutual respect, not to say regard, had grown up between them. Whenever the pickets of the respective armies got within speaking distance of each other, this feeling prompted them to talk and enter into an agreement for a temporary truce. The usual preliminaries for a parley and a chat began in this wise: “Say, Yank, want to talk?” “Yes, Johnny,” replies the Union soldier; and then followed a mutual agreement not to fire, and following this, oftentimes, a protracted conversation about their experiences in battle, what they had to eat, the merits of their respective officers, how they liked the service, in which frequently a large number on each side would take part. Sometimes grave questions of state were discussed, and not unfrequently the conversation was enlivened by jokes, stories, and “twitting on facts.” These parleys were carried on without the knowledge of the officers on either side, and were finally forbidden. On the night in question, the Twenty-ninth “boys” found the Confederate pickets as friendly as they had been before the battle, and the result was, that they sat down on the shore and had an old-time chat, which was kept up nearly all night.

On the 23d, General Sumner reviewed his grand division, composed of the Second and Ninth corps, the ceremony lasting nearly all day.

The campaign having closed with the battle of Fredericksburg, the work of preparing winter quarters for the army began soon after. Each company was divided into squads, and each squad was charged with the work of preparing its own hut. The prospect of having a comfortable abode at that, the most inclement season of the year, furnished a sufficient incentive for each man to do his “level best”; and the amount of Yankee ingenuity displayed in the preparation of these winter homes was as instructive as it was pleasing in its results; logs were cut in the adjacent forests, and these, cut into suitable lengths, formed the walls of the house, while the tent was used for a roof. Inside of these, chimneys and fire-places were constructed, as well as comfortable bunks, and long before the close of the year, Falmouth was a city of log-houses, containing a population of over one hundred thousand veteran soldiers.

On the last day of the year, the regiment was mustered for pay, an event always of deep interest to the men, but peculiarly so on this occasion, as it witnessed the close of another year of their service in the army, and brought them nearer to the welcome day when they would be permitted to bid good-by forever to the hardships, toils, and dangers of army life. The year that expired on that day had been singularly eventful, as must needs be all years of war. The regiment had been engaged in not less than ten pitched battles, besides many skirmishes; it had marched on Norfolk, travelled up and down the Peninsula, navigated the Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac, marched to Centreville, tramped nearly the entire length of the State of Maryland, and, passing down the Loudon Valley, had penetrated almost to the Virginia seaboard. Many of its most cherished and bravest soldiers had fallen by disease and the bullet; but with all these losses and bitter fortunes, it had not lost its flag or its honor. The Twenty-ninth was now in its truest sense a veteran regiment. Its services during the year which then closed had enabled it to spread upon the public military record of the Commonwealth a most flattering testimonial of its bravery from one of the generals under which it had served in the field.

We conclude this chapter by giving the following letter to Governor Andrew, relative to the regiment:—

“Headquarters Irish Brigade, Hancock’s Division, } “Second Corps, Army of the Potomac, } “Camp near Falmouth, Va., Nov. 19, 1862. }

“To John A. Andrew, Governor of Massachusetts.

“Sir: In accordance with the desire of the Governor of Massachusetts, and circular received, I have the honor to state that the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts Volunteers joined my command at Fair Oaks, on the 9th of June, 1862; since which time they have been under my command, and are still a regiment of the Irish Brigade....

“In relation to the physique and morale of the men composing the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts Volunteers, I have the honor, and to me a pleasure, to state they are obedient, vigilant, and reliable, ever ready for every duty; while in the field, under my own eye, they have been unsurpassed as soldiers, brave and heroic. Their loss is no indication of their valor, for uncontrolled circumstances and location will favor, or be more fatal, as these circumstances may happen. Of the field-officers of the regiment, I have to state nothing but the most cordial feelings have ever existed between them and me. They severally have my entire confidence and good wishes. They have ever been found at their post, and in readiness for the most arduous duties. Colonel Ebenezer W. Peirce, who lost an arm in the battle of White Oak Swamp, has my sympathy, and in so soon rejoining his regiment for duty, proved his readiness to be where a soldier should be,—at the head of his regiment. Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph H. Barnes is a soldier of the true type, in whom I have a perfect and implicit reliance. Brave and honorable, he is a credit to his State. Major Charles Chipman, likewise, is a soldier of first-rate order, and has borne himself as a true man and a patriot on the field, and as a pattern to the men of the regiment in all times of trial, never flinching from any of the duties or responsibilities of the severest campaigns of modern times. Of the line and staff officers, I can only state they all perform their duty becoming true men and brave. Massachusetts need never be ashamed of such citizens or children. Their identity with the Irish regiments of my command has been most pleasing, cordial, and the fraternity of feeling is admirable in the extreme. Massachusetts shakes hands with her adopted citizens in their devotion to a common country and a common flag. They will stand by them together until victory crowns their endeavors, and harmony is restored to the Union.

“As an incident of the cordial feeling existing in this brigade towards their brother soldiers of the Massachusetts Twenty-ninth Volunteers, I have to state that at a meeting of the officers of the old New York regiments, held some time since, they voted to their brother soldiers of the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts Volunteers a green banner, emblematical of the particular brigade in which they so honorably serve, and of the cordiality of feeling which exists between them. This banner is now on its way, and will shortly be presented to the Twenty-ninth by General Edwin V. Sumner, a commander proud of the Irish Brigade, and a son of old Massachusetts.

“The only way that I know His Excellency can aid this fine regiment, is by filling it up to the maximum standard by her native and adopted sons.

“I have the honor to be, most obediently and respectfully yours,

“Thomas O’Neill, Major and A. A. G., “For Brig. Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, Commanding Irish Brigade.”