In the last post, I introduced to you the 93rd New York,
a regiment photographed by Timothy O’Sullivan at Bealton Station in August 1863.
Having served as headquarters guard for two years, the soldiers of the 93rd
experienced a bloodless war; however, that changed abruptly on May 5, 1864,
when the regiment accompanied the Army of the Potomac into the Wilderness.
Undoubtedly, the officers in the 93rd New York
exhibited anxiety at their sudden change of duty. Although they expressed
eagerness to get into the fight, some of them wondered what their first
taste of battle would be like. Most of the officers knew the eyes of the brigade
would be upon them. After all, their brigade, the 2nd Brigade, 3rd
Division, 2nd Corps, contained eight seasoned regiments, veterans of
the Army of the Potomac’s most famous campaigns. Would the soft bread soldiers
of the 93rd be able to stomach the bloody fight that was sure to
erupt?
At 11 o’clock, May 3, the 93rd New York quietly
broke up camp at Brandy Station and took up a line of march toward Ely’s Ford, a
crossing point on the Rapidan River. After eating breakfast near the ford on
May 4, the column reached Chancellorsville. A sense of urgency spread throughout the army; everyone was
certain that battle was on the horizon.
The narrator of today’s tale is one of the officers who
accompanied the 93rd New York into the Wilderness, First Lieutenant
William Leggett Bramhall, age twenty-four. Before the war, Bramhall was curator
of the American Numismatic Society. An avid Republican, Bramhall
designed many of the medals used by Abraham Lincoln’s “Wide Awakes” during
the Election of 1860. (If you are a collector of political campaign medals,
check out the work, as it may be of Bramhall’s design.)
Taking note of his new routine as a combat infantryman,
Bramhall wrote to his brother describing the march across the Rapidan: “Our
march was a rapid and fatiguing one with few and far between, and the day was
hot and sultry from early morning until 3 1/2 o’clock p. m. . . . All were
foot-sore and weary, especially our recruits, after the forced march of 27
miles, and our mess, like most others, drank our hot coffee with our ‘hard
tack’ and fried ham, and then laid down to delicious sleep and pleasant dreams
among the Rebel graves on the old Chancellorsville battle-field.”
The next morning, May
5, the 93rd New York and the other regiments belonging to Brig. Gen.
Alexander Hays’s brigade struck their tents, ate breakfast, and made haste for
Todd’s Tavern, a crossroads west of Spotsylvania Court House. Bramhall continued, “The day was very warm and
sultry, but our pace was rather accelerated than abated.” The bluecoats reached
the tavern at noon, where they stopped for lunch. Suddenly, said Bramhall, “artillery
and light musketry fire broke upon our ears.” Although the New Yorkers did not
yet know it, the 5th Corps had made contact with Confederates along the Orange Turnpike in
the Wilderness. Soon, buglers blared the assembly. With their lunch
interrupted, the New Yorkers strapped on their accoutrements and made haste yet
again. Bramhall continued, “nearly half of the time ‘double-quicking,’ we
continued for more than an hour, when we were finally halted in the Wilderness,
where we rested for about ten minutes, and filled our canteens with the best
water we could procure. Then commenced a terrific fire of musketry away off to
the right, which rolled along to near our front in continued waves, and assured
us that the fight had now commenced in earnest.”
After that, the soldiers of the 93rd New York did not have long to wait. The regiment formed for battle on the north side of
the Orange Plank Road, and together with Hays’s other regiments, it moved
forward for half a mile through a thick growth of oak trees. Suddenly, a frightened
Pennsylvania regiment belonging to Brig. Gen. Frank Wheaton’s 1st Brigade, 2nd
Division, 6th Corps, came barreling out of the woods, and “came
running through our ranks in a manner too precipitate to call good order,”
recalled Bramhall. Pushing through the routed Pennsylvanians, the New Yorkers
passed over a ditch, then up a roll of ground, and met a terrific volley from the
Confederates belonging to Colonel John M. Stone’s brigade. Bramhall wrote, “Though
halted, we did not flinch, but replied vigorously, and gradually advanced, the
enemy failing back, but halting to give us a volley as we came up to them each
time. “
The battle burst upon the 93rd New York like a
torrent, with soldiers falling left and right. Bramhall wrote down some of
disjointed memories of the battle:
One of the first to fall was Lieut. Gray, of Co. G. the ball
passing directly through his head. He fell to the ground lifeless without a
murmur. (He was slightly wounded by a spent ball a moment before, and after
going to the rear a few steps, and finding the wound a trifling one, he
returned.) One by one the men were pierced by the enemy’s bullets, either
wounded or killed outright. Not a groan or cry escaped one of them, but in the
calm possession of every faculty, they would turn to an officer and cooly say,
‘I am wounded,’ and then pass, or be carried to the rear. One instance I would
mention, I saw a corporal in the ranks of my company wounded in the leg, while
in the act of loading his gun; he
deliberately aimed his piece and fired, exclaiming ‘Take that,’ he then turned
and said ‘Lieutenant, I am wounded and can do no more.’ He went to the field
hospital and had his wound dressed, and soon after came back to the line,
saying, ‘I must have another pop at the rascals.’ That corporal must be
promoted.
It was not much longer until a bullet found Bramhall. A
musket ball raked his scalp. “I felt the ball strike,” he recalled, “and the
next I knew was, that, dizzy and weak, I raised myself off the ground and saw
the blood spouting from my wound, and not a little ‘clot’ on the ground.”
Bramhall staggered over to Captain Henry C. Newton, telling him that he had
been hit. Newton replied, “Hurry to the rear and go low.” Bramhall wandered to
the rear, barely able to stand up straight. When he came to the ditch that his
regiment had crossed, he tumbled into it. Luckily, the sergeant-major came to his assistance and guided him to a field hospital stationed along the
Orange Plank Road.
An ambulance carried Bramhall to Fredericksburg, where he
occupied a bare floor along with eleven other wounded officers from his regiment.
In a few days, he received a transfer to the Georgetown Hospital in Washington,
D.C. Bramhall returned to duty later that summer, but due to the effects of
sunstroke, he left the regiment after the Battle of Deep Bottom. Bramhall
mustered out in November, settled in Washington, where he became, at various
times, a lawyer, a real estate broker, and a deputy collector of taxes. He died in 1902.
Bramhall’s description of the Battle of the Wilderness is
quite exciting, and that, in its own right, makes it a valuable source.
However, what I find interesting is that Bramhall, like the other officers of
the 93rd New York, waited expectantly to experience his first
battle. He waited for two years, operating as headquarters guard, and during
that time, he saw no heavy combat. Then, at his first battle, the Wilderness, he
endured only a few whirlwind minutes of combat before a bullet knocked him out of
the fight. It proves a truth: just a few minutes of Civil War combat was far
more than anyone could ever want.
This is Lt. William Leggett Bramhall, the author of the letter that narrated the 93rd New York's first harrowing moments of battle.
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This is a postwar image of Bramhall.
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This is 2nd Lt. Robert Liston Gray, the officer from Company G who died from a gunshot wound to the head.
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