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Alfred Emory Lee, an aspiring attorney recently graduated from Ohio Wesleyan University, resolved to do his part to restore the Union. Lee enlisted in Co. I of the 82nd Ohio Volunteer Infantry in November 1861 and so begins this incredible journey through the Civil War. Lee was commissioned as an officer and wrote home frequently, leaving a fascinating record of the lengthy list of battles in which his regiment participated, including McDowell, Cross Keys, Cedar Mountain, Second Bull Run, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, (where Lee was severely wounded and captured on the first day of the battle), Wauhatchie, Missionary Ridge, Resaca, New Hope Church, Culp’s Farm, Peach Tree Creek, Atlanta, Savannah, Averysboro, and Bentonville. Alfred E. Lee’s Civil War draws from Lee’s copious wartime correspondence and his post war writings to present a detailed and insightful portrait of the war as fought both east and west.

Camp of the 82nd Regt. O.V.I., 

Six miles north of Falmouth, Virginia May 11, 1863

We broke camp at Stafford on Monday morning April 27th. The men were heavily loaded, having eight days’ rations, 60 rounds of cartridges, and a change of clothing to carry, in addition to their guns and equipment. Yet full of confidence and good spirits, they traveled well and on Tuesday evening reached the Rappahannock at Bremen’s Ford. The most powerful glasses could discover but few traces of the enemy on the other side and preparations were at once made to cross. About 12 o’clock at night the 82nd steadily tramped over the pontoons and found itself on the right bank of the Rappahannock. We continued marching until about 3 o’clock in the morning. 

On Wednesday our corps continued its advance, and evening found us on the bank of the Rapidan. The Rebels were building a bridge here and were captured, bridge and all. They only had a few timbers raised and our pontoons had to be laid, which was accomplished with trifling opposition. About midnight the 82nd crossed the roaring torrent, moved upon the heights of the right bank and waited for the day. 

On Thursday the army commenced its advance down the plank road towards Fredericksburg. On Friday there was considerable skirmishing with the enemy, but no general engagement on our flank (the right) of the grand army, though I believe there was very severe fighting on the left. We were under arms most of the day Friday and Friday night.  

On Saturday morning, the sun dawned clear and beautiful and though we all looked for a general engagement, everything was comparatively quiet. There were a good many random volleys of musketry and some cannonading, but with that exception the day wore away quietly. About 3 P.M. it was announced to us that the enemy were retreating; that one of our brigades was following them, capturing their train and securing many prisoners. Our men were jubilant over the good news, talked of marching to Gordonsville on the morrow, cheerfully ate their frugal supper, and began to think of preparing for one quiet night’s rest after so many of sleepless watchfulness. While seated on the ground with my two lieutenants (1st Lieutenant John H. Ballard and 2nd Lieutenant Thomas J. Abrell) eating our evening meal, Captain George H. Purdy (Co. I) came to us and jovially remarked about our good living, smiled, and walked away. Alas, it was the last smile, the last word from him to me on this earth.  

About half an hour afterwards we were startled by some random musket shots on our right. Almost immediately there followed the most terrific, the most tremendous, the most deadly volley of musketry that in all of my war experience I ever heard. The Rebels instead of retreating had turned our right flank and in heavy force had stolen up within a few paces of our unsuspecting lines. It was a complete surprise. Our men flew to arms and stood waiting for orders and watching the result of the dreadful conflict on our right. Soon troops of stragglers swarming from the woods indicated but too plainly that our lines were broken. The Rebels followed them closely into the open field. All was now hurry and confusion. We were ordered this way and that, changing position every minute, yet doing nothing decisively. Oh, for a Napoleon at that critical juncture! He would have had but five minutes, but even in that time he might have made dispositions that would at least have covered our retreat if not checked the enemy. The German regiments, of which of corps is unfortunately chiefly made up, acted any way but bravely. Many of them threw away their arms and ran without scarcely firing a shot.

Our own regiment, although comparatively cool and determined, narrowly escaped disorganization in the hurry and confusion. It was decided at length to move our regiment to the rear and post it behind a slight earthwork that had been thrown up during the day. I rallied my company while moving up toward the entrenchment, got every man in his place and filed my men into the ditch in good order. The air was now darkened with the smoke of battle, bullets, shells, and canister shot sung, whistled, and howled about our heads and the enemy were coming on pell-mell, driving before them a herd of cowardly Germans, some of whom every moment were paying a dreadful penalty for their want of pluck. I got my company into the ditch without a man being hurt except one sprightly little German whom I had sent to Captain Purdy’s company to equalize it. He, poor boy, was killed before reaching the embankment. Captain Purdy was also struck down dead at about the same moment and was left where he fell. We had no sooner got our position in the breastwork than hundreds of our stragglers came swarming over us in their efforts to escape. Of course we had to withhold our fire until they had passed.  They had no sooner done so than I gave the word to my men to commence firing and they went at it not only with a will but with coolness and deliberation. Hardly a man but seemed perfectly resolved to stay there and die rather than run. The breastwork was very frail, being only about two and a half feet high and so thin that the bullets went through it. Yet there we intended to stay. 

But alas, though the enemy was checked in front of us, our flanks were left entirely exposed and the enemy came right down on our right and left. Three minutes more and would have to die in our places or be captured. Colonel James S. Robinson saw the danger and ordered a retreat. It was an awful moment. Between the breastwork and the woods in our rear, a distance of about 150 yards, we were entirely exposed to the fire of the enemy. Yet there was no alternative- we had to run for life or be taken. Previous to the order to retreat, I had but two men hurt- the little German above referred to and one sergeant- but ere we passed that 150 yards, 2nd Lieutenant Thomas J. Abrell and one man was killed and ten were wounded. The carnage was sickening. I saw men dropping all around me- saw faces streaming with blood-but let me not rehearse the sad details.  

The Dutch had all run, and though we had checked the enemy sufficiently to give them ample time to form a new line of battle for us to rally behind, yet none was formed and there was no alternative but to continue our retreat until we had fallen behind the lines of the 2nd and 3rd Corps. Thus the 82nd was the last regiment to leave that bloody field. We left it not because we were demoralized, not because we were cowardly (for there is no better fighting material in the Army of the Potomac), but simply because we had three things to choose: death, a Richmond dungeon, or a retreat. Perhaps we ought to have taken one of the first two rather than the last, and I have since heard many regrets that we did not, but would it not only have aggravated the disaster? Had the German regiments fought at all, had they stood firmly upon our flanks as we expected they would, in short had they rendered us any assistance worth naming, I have no doubt at all but the enemy would have found himself unable to pass the breastwork and would have been driven back in confusion.  

But the men who have always made themselves notorious in the army by their thieving and straggling were not the men to depend on in the hour of danger as we found out to our sorrow. About 8 P.M. our regiment was rallied in an open field by the clear moonlight. But alas, how many vacant places there were in our ranks. My own company, I can say with sorrow and pride, suffered more than any other in the regiment and I have good reason to believe hurt the enemy some. The Rebels, not satisfied with the defeat of the 11th Corps, came pouring down in heavy masses upon the lines of the 2nd and 3rd Corps. Crazed with whiskey and intoxicated with success, they seemed determined to break our lines regardless of the cost. But as well might they have dashed against the rock of Gibraltar. This night battle was indescribably, grandly, and awfully terrible. No language of mine can give you any adequate idea of it. The bellowing of scores of cannon vomiting fire and smoke against the moonlit sky, the shrieking shells, the howling of canister, the constant and tremendous roaring and rattling of musketry and intermingled in an awful discord that seemed supernatural and made one think himself suddenly sunk to the lowest depths of pandemonium. Three of four times the Rebel tide came surging down upon our lines and as often it was rolled back by our brave hearts with awful slaughter. After a while, the storm of battle lulled and ceased for the night.  

Early next morning (Sunday), the 11th Corps was moved to the extreme left and posted behind entrenchments. We had hardly got our positions when the battle commenced again in front and on the right. The 11th Corps was not engaged. The fighting was mostly done in the midst of a thick forest which was soon fired by the artillery. The wounded not carried off must have either suffocated or burned. For hours the bellowing of artillery and the roaring of musketry was deafening. General Hooker, placing himself at the head of the Gibraltar Brigade of the 2nd Corps (it includes the 4th Ohio Infantry) went in and drove the enemy, captured colors, and made himself a beau ideal hero. The Army of the Potomac loves Hooker as it never loved McClellan. He is our man and must lead us. About noon the battle lulled again and there was no more fighting save picket skirmishing.  

The Rebels meant to drive us into the river and failed. We had held our position and beaten them back. For three days and nights our regiment was kept under arms, and often was summoned to arms expecting to go out and meet the enemy. Rebel bullets would sometimes come rattling about our ears in our bivouac. On Tuesday evening a cold, chilling rain set in. Our clothes were saturated with water, yet we could have no fire. I sank upon the ground and slept but soon awoke shaking as though I had an ague. When the morning dawned cold, damp, and cheerless, we were tramping through the mud on our way back to the left bank of the Rappahannock. On Wednesday evening we reached one of the old cantonments of our army near where I am now writing. How it rained! There was no room to lie down, so I sat by the fire and nodded the night away. Next day we went into camp where I now write and that night I had the first good night’s sleep I had had for 11 days.

Our troops never fought better than they did in the battles I have been describing. I speak of the army generally. To any who inquire after Captain Purdy, please give the circumstances of his death as I have detailed them. He was a brave man, a true patriot, and a fast friend. If at any future time it can be done, I will endeavor to secure his body and have it sent to his friends if they desire it. The citizens of Delaware ought to give him a monument.