order was thereupon sent to him direct, to report immediately at headquarters. He was received with much sternness by General Casey. "Have you seen service before, sir ?" "I have, sir." "How came you to disobey that?" said General Casey, one of his staff at the same time presenting the order. "Are you accustomed to obey orders?" Said Col. Bross, with emphasis, "General Casey, I obey orders with my life; your order never reached me." The mistake was of course discovered and explanations were soon made. His air of resolute determination favorably impressed the old General, and the Colonel was thereupon placed in command of the colored brigade, then at Camp Casey, near Washington. This position he held until after the battle of Spottsylvania, when, with his brigade, he was ordered forward to White House, where he remained until an opportunity offered to go to the front. At this time the troops were rapidly attaining perfection in drill, and their discipline was every way satisfactory. His regiment was thoroughly drilled, and on occasions of alarm proved itself ready to stand in its lot amid the thunders of battle. General Grant was before Petersburg. An order was addressed to Col. Bross to detach one regiment to guard. He selected the 29th and accompanied it, leaving the brigade. He reached the main army and commenced work in the trenches June 19th. In July it was known that an extensive mine was in preparation, and following its explosion, extensive movements were to be made and grand results achieved. "On Saturday morning, July 30, 1864, at 40 minutes past 4 o'clock, the mine beneath the rebel fort was exploded; and at 5 o'clock and 30 minutes a charge was made and for a while seemed to promise well. The line, for a short distance on each side of the mine, is said to have been brilliantly carried. The second line was gained and held for a time. The colored division, under General Ferrero, including seven colored regiments, was then ordered forward. The fort had been seized, and the order to the black troops was to take the interior line beyond. They had been ordered to take the caps from their muskets and rely on the bayonet. It soon became evident the work claimed to have been done by Ledlie's division was not thoroughly accomplished. The enemy's lines had not been suffi ciently cleared, and such had been the delay that the rebels had rallied in full force and were prepared now to dispute, successfully, any further advance of our troops. But they did advance, in face of a fire in front; and in addition, received an enfilading fire upon each flank and also in the rear from portions of the enemy's first line, which had not been taken. They advanced towards Cemetery Hill, which was the key to the entire rebel position. Cemetery Hill commands Petersburg itself, and was, therefore, the objective point of the assault; and without attaining it, the attack, as a whole, must fail. It would seem, therefore, that such a careful disposition of the forces should have been made as would render the attempt a certain success. On the contrary, the first assault was so executed that no subsequent bravery could prevent a total failure; and no failure of the war, of the same dimensions, has been more disastrous. Not that in a strictly military sense, the loss was so great, though it cost us four thousand of our bravest and best men—the military situation was the same after the attempt as before. In addition to the loss of life the moral effect was intensely calamitous. It spread a gloom over all the land. It was widely felt, as a result, that we were making no progress in the war, and were likely to make none. All the friends of those who died in the undertaking felt that their lives had been sacrificed to the most stupid and criminal blundering. If a soldier falls in a successful battle, his name is imperishably linked with whatever of luster it sheds about it. History, poetry and oratory dwell upon it. But to fall in a failure is to go down in comparative darkness, and history refuses to linger upon the theme." Lieutenant Chapman says: "Whenever I recall the scenes of that dreadful day, feelings of sorrow and regret inevitably arise. Before day we were up and ready. Every one felt the danger awaiting him, and there was unusual silence. All seemed occupied with their own thoughts. The Colonel came up to me, and we had a few moments of cheerful conversation. Soon the artillery opened-the musketry was distinctly heard-the conflict had commenced. In perfect silence we moved forward. My last interview with the Colonel was while we were halted in the covered way. Capt. Aiken and Lieut. Gale were also there. Few words were exchanged, our thoughts, as usual et such times, straying homeward. We little knew then that by incapacity and wanton neglect, thousands of lives were to be sacrificed. Again we were moving forward. The outer line of works was passed, and we were hastening up the hill to the fort. Here, friend and foe, living and dying, were heaped together, causing us HIS DEATH. 593 to halt in the midst of a destructive fire of both musketry and artillery. I well remember how he looked; standing in the midst, his countenance lighted up with steadfast hope and an almost superhuman courage, he cried out, 'Forward, 29th,' and we moved on over the mass. The men were falling thick and fast, and soon my turn came. Lying on the field, I felt the auspicious moment had passed. His form was ever a prominent mark. Turning to Capt. Brockway, he said, 'Bring forward the colors.' Then, seizing them in his own hand, he cried, 'Follow me, my men.' But it was in vain; the enemy were concentrated. It was madness for us to charge where three divisions had already failed. As we were ordered back, the Colonel was seen endeavoring to rescue the colors. Standing upon the parapet, he said, 'The man who saves those colors shall be promoted.' The fatal ball came, and he fell, but the legacy of his bright example and the memory of his noble deeds remain. The intense sorrow and grief of that night I will not attempt to portray." Across this Capt. McCormick testifies that the 29th first advanced through a narrow strip of timber, and received the rebel fire. Beyond was the first line of earthworks and then an open plain. charged the troops to a mined fort, receiving a terrible cross and enfilading fire, and here the brave Captain Flint was killed. Onward, up to the ditch in front of the rebel lines, and after a brief rest, another advance upon the second rebel line, where was entrenched a force so strong that the unsupported soldiers of the Union could not go farther. The Colonel leaped upon the parapet and planted his colors, but seeing at a glance the strength of the foe, ordered a retreat, but before he could retire a minnie ball struck him on the left side of his brain and crashed through his skull. He exclaimed, "O Lord!" and was dead. That regiment lost in that charge, one hundred and fifty killed, one hundred wounded, and from seventy to eighty prisoners! It did all that could have been done. Four hundred and fifty men went into the melee-one hundred and twenty-eight came out! Of the officers, the Colonel and Captain Flint were killed; Major Brown was wounded; adjutant Downing was severely wounded and captured; Captain Aikin was mortally wounded; Captains Daggett and Brockway severely, and Captain Porter slightly. The colored troops did their duty. Some one blundered, and they were marched into death. Col. Bross was foremost in the charge and his body was farthest in advance. He sleeps in his soldier grave unmarked, unknown! His pastor delivered an eloquent funeral discourse, from which we make the following extract: "God will keep his dust, and his memory will grow brighter and brighter in that long catalogue of heroes and martyrs who have given their lives to liberty and to God. It is a little remarkable that he was accustomed to repeat Tennyson's 'Charge of the Light Brigade,' and especially these verses: "Forward the Light Brigade! No man was there dismayed, Rode the six hundred.' "Mr. Bross was a good husband, a tender father, a kind and generous neighbor. He was also an humble and decided follower of Jesus. His serious attention to the claims of religion was arrested, he used to say, by the fact that his father, with whom he was going to church on a certain occasion, stopped in a lonely place to pray. "I have reason to know that in the army he was constant in his religious duties, and in circumstances where it required no little degree of moral courage to acknowledge his convictions and do his duty. He had, however, no cant about him. He was simply straightforward and conscientious. "He was a faithful and much loved member of this Church. Many of us have known him long and well. Quiet, unpretentious, liberal according to his means, genial in spirit, and ready for every good word and work, we could not fail to esteem him, nor regret his loss when he left us for the field of strife. And now we mourn him, as we mourn good men whose lives have been linked with ours and are no more. Nay, as we mourn good men who die for us. Nor are we alone. He has numbered himself with those for whom a nation mourns, and over whose fate the lovers of our country, in all lands, will drop a tear." He died a Christian soldier. He was a fine singer, and his love of song went with him to the front. The Surgeon of the regiment thus writes: * "HON. WM. BROSS-Dear Sir: I would esteem it a great kindness if you would send me a card photograph of my late much lamented and highly esteemed Colonel. * We had many happy times together during our-to me, alas! too shortacquaintance. When he visited me at the hospital, we used to make these old Virginia woods ring with auld Scotch songs. 'My Nannie's awa,' was a special favorite of his. He was delighted to hear me recite or read Burns, and many a hearty laugh we had at our 'Immortal Bobby,' and my Scotch pronunciation. Or, we would start some sacred tune: 'Sweet Hour of Prayer,' 'Marching Along,' 'A Light in the Window for Thee, Brother,' etc. The two former he taught me. LIEUT.-COL. JOHN A. BROSS. 595 "I well remember the night we crossed the James. We had a long hot day's march on foot-his horse was sick. We were resting on an old stump when we received orders directing me to report to the hospital. He said, 'Doctor, I am glad you are going to the hospital; if anything should happen to me or my boys, we shall get the best attention, and if I am wounded, I wish you to attend to my case; I will not have any of these drinking surgeons touch me.' Then turning to an orderly, he said, 'Call the officers.' When they were around him, he said, 'Now, gentlemen, we are expecting to storm those works to-night or to-morrow morning early, and I wish it thoroughly understood that not a man is to leave his post to assist the wounded—no matter who falls, I, or any body else. Let the wounded lie where they fall, and PRESS on.' We then lay down on that corn-field-little thought I it was the last night we should spend together. "This war, and that of the Crimea, have deprived me of many warm friends, but this last is the severest trial of all. Be assured I should prize one of his pictures very highly. "I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, "D. MACKAY, Surgeon 29th U. S. Colored Troops." The Chicago bar held, on Thursday, August 18th, one of the largest and most affecting meetings ever convened on the occasion of the death of one of its members. As one truly said, they mourned a brother over whom it was necessary to throw no mantle of charity. The following preamble and resolutions were adopted: 'WHEREAS, Our friend and brother, Lieut.-Colonel JOHN A. BROSS, 29th regiment U. S. colored troops, has fallen upon the field of battle-another victim upon the altar of our country Resolved, That by his glorious death this Bar has lost one of its most cherished members, his regiment an able and fearless commander, the country a brave soldier, and humanity an earnest advocate and uncompromising friend. While we mourn, we cannot but gather consolation that another of our number (having courageously assumed the chances alike from an open enemy in honorable warfare, and a malignant foe in indiscriminate massacre), ripe in Christian character and manly virtue, and impelled by patriotic devotion, has thus enrolled his name on that long list of heroes enshrined in the hearts of a grateful nation. Resolved, That though we shall miss Col. Bross in the halls of justice and in the other walks of our common profession, we shall not cease to remember the urbanity of his deportment, the geniality of his companionship, the integrity of his purposes, and the honesty of his heart. แ Resolved, That from our earliest acquaintance, our departed brother illustrated the principles of universal philanthropy having their foundation in the gospel he professed; and while his military career gave the highest evidence of his selfsacrificing patriotism and his fidelity to early convictions, leading him to seek a path of danger unequaled in civilized warfare, in his heroic death he has sealed with his blood those great principles of our common humanity, which he believed to be inculcated by his Divine Master. |