Where Wounds and Death Held High Carnival: The 37th Indiana and Chickamauga

So much about war comes down to timing, the 37th Indiana at Chickamauga providing a prime example. The regiment saw action on both days of the battle and in some of the hottest sectors of the fight including near Brotherton’s farm on the 19th and Snodgrass Hill on the 20th but suffered only 11 casualties before General Negley ordered them to Rossville around noon on the 20th, essentially marching them out of the battle. “Thus, it is in war,” remarked regimental historian George H. Puntenney. “Sometimes we plunge into danger when we little expect it and sometimes when we think we are marching into the jaws of death, the battle lifts and no one is hurt.”

The campaign certainly started with its fair share of dangers as the Hoosiers, part of Colonel William Sirwell’s Third Brigade of General James S. Negley’s division of the 14th Army Corps, narrowly escaped destruction at Davis’s Crossroads on September 11th. The brigade under then Colonel John F. Miller had fought magnificently at Stones River, forming a major component of the Federal counterattack on January 2nd that turned back Breckinridge’s assault. They had earned a reputation as hard fighters and fully expected to have a big part to play in the next big fight between the two armies, but events conspired against it. So, let’s pick up their story beginning on Friday September 18, 1863, as the regiment started on the road to Chickamauga as told by Sergeant George Puntenney of Co. K.

Detail from the 37th Indiana's monument at Chickamauga located along the wood line west of Lafayette Road about a half mile south of Brotherton's Cabin. The regiment moved into this position late in the afternoon of Saturday September 19th and remained there skirmishing with the Confederates until the following morning when the brigade shifted north to Snodgrass Hill.   

 

How far we marched that night I do not know, but we were going all night sometimes in one direction and sometimes in another. The army seemed badly mixed but I suppose it was all right. Fences were burning everywhere we went. Troops were passing all night and taking positions on the left. Negley’s division relieved Colonel Vanderveer’s brigade the latter part of the night. Our brigade laid down near the morning of the 19th and was awakened by cannonading on our left. We watched the shells bursting and heard the cannons roar.

About noon, the battle raged fiercely. McCook’s corps, tired and covered with dust, passed us going in the direction of the fighting. We lay there listening to the roar of artillery and the sharp rattle of musketry. Sometime in the afternoon, Negley was ordered to move in the direction of the battle. He started promptly and after going some distance we came to Crawfish Springs. There we were permitted to fill our canteens, which we gladly did as we knew the importance of water in a battle. What a beautiful spring of water that was! Think of going from that pure, life-giving fountain of clear, cold water to a great and dreadful battle where smoke, dust, and toil, wounds and death hold high carnival. That is war.

37th Indiana regimental colors

Negley seemed anxious to get into the fray and seemed vexed at the deliberation of some of the men when drinking the water or filling their canteens. But that was the last quiet or water that we got until Sabbath night after the battle. We moved forward rapidly and soon began to meet wounded men and stragglers, many were badly wounded and many were only scared or stampeded.

As we marched through an open field, our army lay at the edge of a woods some 60 rods in front of us. We saw our line for the distance of nearly a quarter of a mile in length and firing as fast as it could. The wounded came back in great numbers and W.C. Patton of Co. K asked one of them how they were making it in front. “Well, it’s about nip and tuck and damned if I ain’t afraid tuck has the best of it,” he said. Others, though badly wounded, said they were getting along all right.

We went on, passed the Widow Glenn house on the Dry Valley Road and were still some distance west of the fighting line. We formed our line of battle and laid down. While there, an officer rode up and asked what regiment that was. No one answering promptly, Rufus Hudelson of Co. K jumped up and in the most cheerful tone of voice said, “The 37th Indiana and we have only one more year to serve.” Nothing could have been more ridiculous than to be delighted that we had only one year of that kind of fighting to do!

Lt. Col. William D. Ward
37th Indiana

 About dark, severe firing began on our left and we were ordered forward into the woods. It was very dark and the ground had been fought over as many guns were lying on the ground. We could see the fire leaping from the guns of our soldiers on our left and hear the bullets of the enemy whizzing past, but there was no fighting at our front and we had only one man wounded. Thus, it is in war. Sometimes we plunge into danger when we little expect it and sometimes when we think we are marching into the jaws of death, the battle lifts and no one is hurt.

We made temporary fortifications of logs and rails and laid down to rest. The night was dark and cold while the groans of the wounded in our front added to the gloomy surroundings. Our 37th men carried back many poor wounded Rebels that night and cared for them as best they could. Before all the wounded were cared for, the queen of the night arose in all her splendor and lit up the blood-stained field with her cold rays. The night was cold and the men suffered greatly as their clothing was wet with perspiration. They were not permitted to take their blankets from their knapsacks and were compelled to lie on the cold ground shivering till the sun arose and warmed them with its heat.

The moaning of the wounded had ceased by the morning of the 20th as the sun arose above the hills and many soldiers slept that sleep that knows no waking. We continued to gather logs and rails out of which we made temporary breastworks and waited for the battle to begin. A stiller Sabbath morning than that of September 20, 1863, was never known. The silence was oppressive. The firing of a few guns of either army would have been a relief.

About 9 o’clock we could hear the artillery wagons of the enemy moving towards our left and we all knew what that meant. About that time General James Garfield and his staff rode along the line a short distance in the rear. Soon after a rifle was heard, then another, and in a moment many others, and now many cannons on both sides made the very earth shake with their awful roar. The battle was on in earnest; the Rebel skirmishers tried out line but were easily repulsed.

About 10 o’clock, Sirwell’s brigade was ordered to the support of General Thomas, [John] Beatty’s and [Timothy] Stanley’s brigades having preceded us. We went almost half a mile when an order came to change front and retake our old positions, which we did. We were again ordered to the left and rear to a hillside sloping towards the woods we left. We had hardly formed our line when the Confederate line of battle advanced but were soon halted by our artillery opening on them. The enemy then trained their artillery on us but did no serious injury. Cannon balls tore through the timber and shells burst over our heads but struck no one in the regiment. Splinters knocked from trees by cannon balls struck Lt. Col. William Ward and others but hurt no one seriously.

General James S. Negley

At this point we discovered that the 37th Indiana and 21st Ohio became separated from the other regiments of the brigade [74th Ohio and 78th Pennsylvania]. After staying a short time at this point, General Negley ordered us to the left. In obeying this order, we crossed quite a little hill and formed in an open wood. Shells were screaming through the treetops, bursting over our heads, and making a fearful noise but doing little harm. After standing there a short time, we were ordered forward. The roar of battle was deafening and we were sure we were going into it.

We took positions near a straw stack. Union troops on our right and a little in advance were in a cornfield and the dust raised in the field by Rebel bullets striking the ground among them reminded one of the dust raised by a dashing summer’s rain. It did not seem possible that we could get out of that place without fighting. The battle raged furiously on our right while comparative quiet reigned in front. A Union battery at our rear and on a hill kept up a continual firing over us and a Rebel gun in our front was shooting over our heads at our battery it seemed. We remained at this place quite a while but did no fighting and suffered no loss.

From that position we were moved a short distance to the right and up a little hill near a house where a Union battery was firing very rapidly. This place seemed like a veritable hell; the blue smoke from the cannons’ mouths made it difficult to see and the roar was simply deafening. While at this place, an officer rode up on a fiery steed flecked with foam and inquired, “What regiment is this?” On being told, he ordered us to charge over the point of the hill and capture a Rebel brigade. Rufus Hudelson quipped, “I don’t want any Rebel brigade.” It is yet believed by many of us that the man was a Rebel officer.

Regardless, our colonel had about finished the order to make the charge when an aide of General Negley rode up and ordered us to move off by the right flank towards the rear. That we were at this time on the northern point of Snodgrass Hill there is no doubt. The 21st Ohio, the only regiment of our division excepting the 37th that was left on the field, was in the hottest of the fight on that hill.

Private James P. Brown, Co. D, 37th Indiana Volunteer Infantry- my great great grandfather.

We marched back and down a sloping hill through open woods. In these open woods were artillery teams hitched to their wagons without riders, running wildly through the woods hauling cannons. Some of the horses were shot and unable to travel but were dragged along. Men and officers by the scores were running wildly to the rear, seemingly having lost all pride and shame.

Our regiment seemed so cool and orderly that I am told quite a number of men who were running away fell in with us and for a time became part of us. Our first stop was in an open field a half mile or more to the rear and north of Snodgrass Hill and on the road leading through McFarland’s Gap which is south of Rossville. We were ordered to the rear twice more that evening and the last time took us near Rossville where we found General Jefferson C. Davis rallying his troops. We were required to join him in that work and gathered up quite a force, a number of them being without arms. The battle still raged with unabated fury at the front and continued to do so until after dark.

We remained on the field near Rossville and the firing at the front ceasing, we laid down to rest and sleep. But thoughts of the dead and dying on that bloody battleground greatly disturbed the rest of many who badly needed sleep. More than 30,000 men had been killed or wounded in those two days and most still remained where they fell.

 

Source:

Puntenney, George H. History of the Thirty-Seventh Regiment of Indiana Infantry Volunteers. Rushville: Jacksonian Book and Job Department, 1896, pgs. 53-60

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