Gen'l Joshua Pickett, then colonel in command of the Twenty-Fifth Mass. Regt., and, after Gen'l Heckman's capture, in command of the Star Brigade, with Gen'l H. C. Lee, at the time colonel commanding the Twenty-Seventh Mass. Regt., unite in the following statement:

"We received no order for the use of wire. Our picket line was fully established and under the competent command of Lieut. Col. Stewart of the Ninth New Jersey Regt. We had made such a disposition of our commands as to be ready for any assault. Such fortifications had been thrown up as the time and the exhausted condition of our command would permit, and the men were lying upon their arms at the works. Three times during the night we were in line to repel attack, and when at length assaulted, we three times repulsed and hurled back the hostile force. Our surprise was only in that which was allowed to befall us from the rear.”

We have only to add that if Gen'l Butler uses the term surprised, as relating to his ignorance of the enemy's purpose or his lack of preparation for what occurred, we do not care to question it, but if it is used as indicating heedlessness or a lack of vigilance on the part of the troops forming Heckman's Brigade, we reply that that matter was fully investigated at the time, and it was proved that so far as the troops were concerned, they were on the alert, and were constantly reporting during the night the condition of matters on their front.

From this point, the history of the Twenty-Seventh Mass. Regt. must be narrated under the following heads: the regiment in active service; the officers in prison; and the rank and file at Andersonville. The night of May 15th, after taking our new position, Maj. William A. Walker, received permission to return to camp at Cobb's Hill, expecting to rejoin the regiment the following morning. Before his return, the disaster had occurred, and on him devolved the difficult task of re-organizing our shattered ranks. With

the three escaped companies as a nucleus, the regiment was formed into three "divisions" (right, left and centre), the escaped and convalescent of other companies being united in these commands. Capt. John W. Moore commanded the right (B, F, I and H), Capt. P. S. Bailey the left (A, D, G), and Lieut. F. C. Wright the centre (C, E and K). Brig. Gen'l George J. Stannard, who had been ordered to report to Gen'l Butler for duty previous to the battle, was assigned to the command of the Star Brigade, and the FiftyFifth Pennsylvania Vol. Regt. added to the command. Also, Brig. Gen'l J. H. Martindale relieved Maj. Gen'l Weitzel from the command of the Second Division, Eighteenth Army Corps.

Sunday, May 22d, was a sad day, as with depleted ranks we gathered for divine service, and reviewed the terrible experiences of the previous week. Fervent prayer was offered, that God would shield those who had fallen into the enemy's power, and temper the winds to the bereaved at home. While we were engaged in this service, Maj. Gen'l Martindale arrived, and, dismounting, remained with uncovered head until the close, joining tears with us over lessons drawn from the lives of comrades slain. The enemy having forced Gen'l Butler's army into his fortifications at Bermuda Hundreds, now established opposing works in close proximity to the Union lines. An ever-deafening roar of strife hung upon the ear, sounding more like a continuous battle than the skirmishing of our advance. The crash of heavy guns from our navy at either flank, was like spasms of volcanic eruptions, which came with a power that seemed to unshackle every nerve. It is not to be wondered that under the whirl of brain and crushing headaches consequent upon this roar, some poor mortals "wished they would touch off those big guns a leetle easier."

May 23d, fifty-five men of the Twenty-Seventh Mass., and a portion of the Ninth New Jersey, with a section of

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artillery and a squad of cavalry, made a reconnoissance, but, finding the enemy in strong force near Bakehouse Creek, retired with a loss of Joseph Goddett of Pittsfield, Company F, Twenty-Seventh Mass. Regt., wounded mortally in the thigh. Our service for the most part consisted of picket duty, and the strengthening of our works, with frequent alarms and hasty movements to threatened points. During one of these engagements, a Gatling gun was used upon the enemy, a prisoner inquiring as he passed it, "What kind a gun is that? Do you load it Sunday and fire it all the week?" May 26th, Brooks' and Martindale's Divisions of the Eighteenth Corps, and Devens' Division of the Tenth Corps, were detached from the Army of the James, and under command of Maj. Gen'l W. F. Smith, were ordered to report at City Point. The effective strength of this command was about thirteen thousand men. At ten o'clock the 27th inst., with blankets, tents and luggage slung on our backs, and two days' rations in haversacks, we crossed the Appomattox on pontons, arriving within a mile of City Point about midnight of the 28th. At noon the 29th, we embarked upon the steamer "Vidette" and barge "Pratt," the former an old acquaintance of the Burnside Expedition. It is worthy of note that this march was in a drenching rain, and our embarkation, which followed, occurred on Sunday, both of which were common occurrences in the movements of the Twenty-Seventh Mass. Regt.

CHAPTER XV.

THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.

AT five P.M., May 29th, the fleet of transports, laden with troops, set sail from City Point. A trip down the James, at any time, is not uninteresting; but when accompanied by a fleet of vessels laden with troops, through scenes renowned in early American history, as well as for recent bloody conflicts, all other travel touches the level of stupidity. Here is the site of Jamestown, the first permanent settlement on the continent; there a portion of a wall, a part of the ruins of its first meeting-house; here, also, the same year that brought our Pilgrim Fathers to Plymouth Rock, was sown the seed of discord in African slavery, which was to engulf the nation in a bloody strife. On either side were the ruined mansions and broad acres of Virginia's opulent aristocracy; here Malvern Hill, and, further on, Harrison's Landing, with places of lesser note in McClellan's peninsula campaign.

Speculations were rife as to our destination, which changed into conviction, as we rounded Fortress Monroe, and at half-past nine, the 30th inst., turned our prow up the York River. The morning was clear and cool, and the transports, as they moved forward, looked more like beehives, with swarming freights of blue-coated heroes. At West Point, the confluence of the Pamunkey and Mattapony rivers, word was received that Gen'l Grant had crossed the former river at Hanovertown the day previous, and hence we entered that crooked stream. At its mouth, broad sweeps of marsh line

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it on either side, bounded by wooded bluffs. Some of the transports appeared to be headed north, some south, some east, and some west; in fact, the stream is so crooked that it was humorously stated, one of the neighboring farmers had maintained a fruitless lawsuit for twenty years to determine upon which bank of the stream his farm lay. Late in the evening we arrived at White-House Landing, remaining on board until morning.

Early the 31st, the scene was animating as viewed from our deck. Troops debarked, and, quickly forming, moved out to the fields beyond to make room for others, while large groups clustered under a tree near the ruins of the Custis mansion, giving away to undisguised hilarity. At this mansion Washington had plied his courtship with Widow Custis, but all that remained of the mansion's former grandeur was a desolate chimney. Traces of Sheridan's raid ten days previous lay about, with sickening effluvia, while halfburned ties, and twisted rails, told of former pretensions as a railroad station.

Our march to the front began about three P.M., through, rather than over, roads so powdered that our course could be traced by rising columns of dust in front and rear, which, in settling, reduced features, uniform, and foliage to one common gray. The heat was terrible, not a breath of air relieving its intensity. Sweat trickled down our dusty faces, and our tongues were parched by the quantities of dust inhaled. Occasional traces of mounds remained over the hastily-buried dead of the peninsula campaign, but without a name or distinguishing mark. Deep reverberations were heard through the forests in quick succession, reminding us the deadly fray still progressed, and that the Union commander was in earnest, when he said, "I intend to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer!" It is said that Alexander the Great when charged by Darius with wanton aggression, replied, "I am master of Asia; if you care to debate the