Hodges, John

JOHN HODGES. Private 8th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), April 17- August I, 186I; First Lieutenant 19th Mass. Vols., August 27, 1861-June 19, 1862; Major 50th Mass. Vols., November 8, 1862; Lieutenant-Colonel 59th Mass. Vols., February 7, 1864; killed at Petersburg, Va., July 30, 1864. JOHN HODGES, JR. was born in Salem, Massachusetts, December 8, 1841, the son of John and Mary Osgood (Deland) Hodges. He attended school in his native city until August, 1858, when he entered Harvard College as a Freshman. The coming national storm had already increased the interest in military matters in Massachusetts, and this rather interfered with his scholastic progress. In the middle of his Junior year he left college to return no more. The degree which he afterwards received was a compliment to his patriotism and success. Previous to the war he joined as a private the Salem Light Infantry, better known as the Salem Zouaves, where an unusually high standard of discipline was enforced and an uncommon proficiency attained. The rules of the company were rigid to the extreme, and Hodges showed his aptitude for true soldiership by the readiness with which he obeyed. When the first call for troops was issued in April, 1861, he eagerly hailed the opportunity. His company was attached to the Eighth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, as right flank company, being detached from its proper regiment, the Seventh, for that purpose. There was much hard work and exposure to try the fortitude of the young soldier during those first three months of real service, though the regiment did not take part in any engagement. This campaign resembled a protracted picnic rather than the stern realities of war, so soon to follow. Floral decorations, flag presentations, boxes and visits from friends, and one enormous wedding-cake, varied the monotony and relieved the hardships of camp life in very essential particulars. More no table incidents were the seizure of the ferry-boat at Havre de Grace, the capture of the Rebel Tilghman, and more especially the securing and bringing round from Annapolis to New York the old frigate Constitution. Our young heroes had their first taste of soldiers' hardships on board this ship, for she was, in the hurry, most inadequately provisioned for the voyage. The decision, energy, and generosity which made our young soldier so successful amid his later responsibilities were developed, as might have been expected, in directions slightly abnormal and amusing, at this stage of his career. He was exceedingly popular in the company. "Johnny," as he was then called, always brought two sticks of wood when his turn came to help feed the camp-fire, thus sparing a comrade his share. Baked beans were for the company, as they frequently are, a cherished solace after the fatigues of picket. One morning Company I came in and found beans enough and to spare in a neighboring company, while for themselves there was displayed a barrel-cover of hard-tack only, Captain Devereux not approving of reciprocity in the matter of rations. A somewhat animated discussion ensued, which culminated in Johnny's kicking the hard-tack into the air, a feat which he immediately expiated in the guard-tent with sincere repentance. Such was his popularity, however, that the whole company laid down their arms at the news of his disgrace, and were with difficulty pacified and induced to return to duty. The Fourth Wisconsin Regiment was stationed near the Eighth, and John, with others, was detailed to drill them. They gave him their company letters to wear, offered him a commission, and parted with him on the very warmest and pleasantest terms. On the return of his regiment, at the expiration of its term of service, he was offered and accepted a position as First Lieutenant in the Nineteenth Massachusetts Volunteers, then organizing' at Lynnfield. On the way to the capital, when he was prevented from reaching a certain railway train in season, his men demonstrated his popularity by unshackling a car from the train to keep the tardy officer from being left behind. For three months after leaving the State, in August, 1861, his regiment lay at Poolesville, on the Upper Potomac, occupied in the work of making a thoroughly disciplined force out of raw material. This was the only time the regiment ever had for instruction, but that time was well used, and it afterwards found itself in a condition of proficiency that was never lost. It was frequently selected for exhibition by its corps commander. Hodges kept his place throughout this period as one of the assistants detailed for instruction. The winters of 1861 and 1862 were spent in hard work on picket and fatigue duty, guarding twelve miles of the Potomac and building forts. The regiment formed part of the force in the battle of Ball's Bluff, but was not engaged. It joined the Army of the Potomac at Fortress Monroe, early in the spring of 1862, participating in the siege of Yorktown and the battle of West Point. At this time Hodges had become very much reduced by sickness, and was sent to Baltimore to recruit. His ardor would not allow him to remain long away from his post. Though entirely unfit for duty, he went back to Fortress Monroe. Thence he was misdirected to Newport News, where he could find no transportation, nor even join any military force on its way to the army. But being resolute to join his regiment in time for any new ordeal of battle, he set off on foot. His tramp through woods and swamps, excited and enfeebled as he was, pulled him down the second time. When, from sheer exhaustion, he finally gave up the effort to find his regiment, he had abandoned everything, even his overcoat, except his letters only, a large bundle of which had been intrusted to him by anxious friends. These he kept and had the pleasure of delivering, after a second more successful attempt. His health being already impaired, the new sources of disease in the Chickahominy swamps proved too much for his strength. He became completely prostrated by fever and dysentery, and reached so low a point as to make his comrades fearful of his death. He was compelled reluctantly to resign, the surgeons pronouncing him incurably disabled. Incessant watchfulness one moonlight night, followed by a wearisome twenty-four hours' advance in line with axes through the swamps and brush, brought on a crisis, but a discharge was obtained from General McClellan in time to save his life. He brought home, as a token of regard, a sum which his men contributed, and which he then intended to devote to the purchase of a medal with appropriate inscriptions. After his promotion he consented to purchase a beautiful sword and scabbard, suitably marked in memory of the givers, from whom he was now separated. His loss was severely felt by his comrades in the regiment, several of whom were serving now as officers, and, like himself, had marched in the ranks of the same company in the three months' campaign. He was then but twenty years old, yet had performed duties above his rank and years. Such was his popularity at home that his name sufficed to raise one hundred and twenty-five men in two days for a company in the Fortieth Massachusetts Volunteers, after his return. His next actual commission, however, was as Major of the Fiftieth Massachusetts Volunteers, a nine months' regiment, which passed through Boston on its way South, November 14, 1862. Here again, for various reasons, the command devolved largely upon the Major. Being destined for General Banks's expedition, the regiment went into camp on Long Island, near Brooklyn. On the 12th of December it embarked on board transports for the South. Six companies had marched from the camp in East New York to Brooklyn, under orders to embark on the steamer Niagara. The men on the way down had contrived to obtain liquor, and one company, never very well disciplined, was particularly unruly. Five companies, with their baggage, had been transferred from the shore to the steamer, loading her down so that her guards were scarce three feet from the water, and the company previously mentioned was nearing her on the tug, when the men, in open defiance of their officers and in the noisiest and most offensive manner, refused to go on board. The confusion was such that their officers could not make themselves heard, and were evidently powerless to suppress the disorder. Major Hodges stood on the promenade deck of the Niagara watching the scene. As the tug ranged alongside, he drew his revolver, and springing to her deck, where the crowd was thickest and most threatening, he shouted " Silence!" threatening to shoot the first man who dared to open his lips or disobey an order; and the sudden hush that followed sufficiently attested their belief in his truth. They were afterwards heard to remark that the Major was the only man who could have cowed them. In different detachments and under divers experiences, the regiment reached New Orleans about February, 1863, and was soon sent up to Baton Rouge, being assigned to General Dudley's brigade, Augur's division. It accompanied General Banks in his first advance to Port Hudson, and after returning from this expedition remained at Baton Rouge until arrangements had been perfected for the siege of Port Hudson. An officer of the regiment says: "We arrived at Baton Rouge at nine, A. M., and were ordered into a field for rest. The storm had ceased, and the heat of the sun was intense. While here, I had occasion to consult with the Major, but he was not to be found. We were wondering where he could be, when he hove in sight, dashing with his usual headlong speed down the road and into our midst. Unnoticed by us, on our arrival there, without even dismounting, he had ridden back to Montecino Bayou and obtained a bag with some coffee in one end, and some hard-tack in the other, and returned to us again. Calling the officers around him, he ordered them to see that every man had his share of the food. I have thus particularly related this incident, at the request of some men who were members of my company, and were present at the time, in order to show the selfsacrificing care he manifested toward his men. As in this instance, without thought for himself, after having passed two nights and nearly two days of exposure, fatigue, and hardship, without rest or sleep, he flew to minister to the wants of his command. "'Our division, being nearest the scene of operations, was the first to invest the place. We left Baton Rouge, May 4th, for the front, and were first assigned the defence of a bridge upon one of the principal roads leading to Port Hudson, and thus protecting the rear of our army. The night before the assault, on the 27th of May, we marched to Port Hudson, and at daylight were assigned to support an Indiana battery. About noon four companies, including mine, were assigned to the storming column. These were under the command of the Major, and all applauded his courage and steadiness. Soon after we began to advance, one of my own men was struck in the leg by a grape-shot. He fell quite near the Major, and he pulled off his neck-tie and hastily bound it round the poor fellow's leg, being all the while under fire. "Then followed several weeks of siege. In the assault on the 14th of June, only the Major took the field with the regiment. We were obliged to perform a long and difficult march in the night, proceeding through the woods. The Major dismounted, led us in, and participated in the work of the next day. We arrived at the end of our march, if march it could be called, at three o'clock in the morning, when we stacked arms and lay down behind the stacks, to await further orders. After seeing every man lie down in his place, the Major accepted a portion of my blankets, and we lay down and entered into a short conversation, during which I took occasion to say, that I thought it would make but little difference to him when we returned home to Massachusetts, as I thought he would immediately enter the service again. He replied, that such was his intention, and also that he intended to stay in the service, if he should live, while the war lasted. I said, 'I am afraid you will lose your life in the service.' Said he, ' Captain, I expect it. I have no doubt I shall lose my life in the service.' " The two following letters will tell the conclusion of this story. " BEFORE PORT HUDSON, July 2, 1863. " DEAR MOTHER, - Our time is out, but we can't come home. I hope this will be over soon, and then we can come back better satisfied. The regiment offered its services to General Banks till July 14th. The men are very much worn out, and I never was so puzzled and tried in my life. I am in command of two regiments, the One Hundred and Seventy-fourth New York and the Fiftieth Massachusetts. Give my love to all. " From your affectionate son, "JOHN. "All are well." " PORT HUDSON, LOUISIANA, July 15, 1863. " DEAR MOTHER, - I don't know when we shall come home. I hope we have done our duty. My hand is a little sore. All are well. General Augur gave me his picture himself. I have been an Acting Brigadier-General in front of Port Hudson. I send you the official order received by me as General, announcing that Vicksburg had surrendered. This is a hard, hard life. All are well. Most of the regiment have gone off with the Rebel prisoners. Give my love to all. May Heaven help all, guide and protect you and me. You receive this rough epistle from "Your affectionate son, "JOHN. " I burnt my hand with powder. No harm, but I can't write." Port Hudson surrendered, and the Fiftieth came home by railroad. The quondam mutineers, whom he had controlled, kept together, and inspired through unusual temptations and dangers, parted with their "little Major" amid the wildest enthusiasm. But it was not long before he was again in the field as Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fifty-ninth Massachusetts, for which regiment he began recruiting on the 23d of November, at Salem. The regiment left the State in April, 1864, and after only three weeks of quiet was repeatedly in action. Then followed the arduous final campaign. Many anecdotes became current in the Fifty-ninth Massachusetts, as to traits of generosity or self-devotion in their young Lieutenant-Colonel, -his yielding his horse to a worn-out soldier on the march, and carrying the man's rifle, or his pulling off his own stockings to cover the blistered feet of a private. On one occasion a force of veterans was ordered to charge a battery, and the Fifty-ninth was to support them. Three several times they saw them march up with firm step, and three several times they saw them waver and fall back under a tremendous fire from the Rebel works, - a sight which might well have caused an older regiment to falter. At this juncture Colonel Hodges received the order to advance with his regiment. For a moment they hesitated, and but for a moment, and it was a critical moment. Colonel Hodges saw it, and dashing towards the color-sergeant, caught the colors from his hand, and without uttering a word, advanced towards the battery. The effect was magical. A sergeant rushed forward and, waving his cap over his head, shouted, "Look at your Colonel with the colors. Come on, boys! come on " A charge, and the battery was carried. On the way to Petersburg he lost men by scores, and officer after officer, until one captain, nine lieutenants, and two hundred and fifty men only were left. An eyewitness thus describes the eventful day at Petersburg, July 30, 1864:" I was at the battle of the 3oth, and then for the first time met Lieutenant-Colonel Hodges, in the crater, about two hours after the explosion of the fort. His regiment, as well as mine, had advanced beyond the fort that was blown up. I advanced with my regiment, and was wounded, and returned inside of the crater of the fort. On my way to the rear, after being relieved, I saw your brother sitting and leaning back against the embankment, and also near him Lieutenant-Colonel Wright (Twenty-seventh Michigan), both of them being wounded, Colonel Hodges through the thigh, Colonel Wright through the shoulder. I stood in front of them, and talked with them about their wounds, the war, and the prospects. After a moment, they made room for me, and invited me to sit between them, we all wishing to be on the ground awhile to see the colored troops make a charge, as we had expressed a doubt as to their bravery, and wished to see them personally. After I sat down, your brother leaned lightly on my shoulder, and appeared weak. Colonel Wright spoke, and asked if we had not better go on to the rear. Your brother said, 'We can't get there until the colored troops pass by.' They were then going through the exploded fort to make the charge. As the colored troops passed, the Johnnies ranged their batteries so as to throw their shells into the crater of the fort, and some twenty exploded there within half as many minutes. On the explosion of a shell some ten or twelve feet from us, while sitting in the position I have described, a piece of shell struck him on the back of the head, killing him instantly. He did not fall, as he was supported by me on one side and the bank on the other. I spoke to a soldier to assist me, and he laid him down carefully, examined his pockets, found his watch, some papers, and a pencil, which I herewith enclose. The man took a blanket, after laying him in an easy position, with one hand by his side, the other across his breast, and covered him up, where I left him, and where I doubt not he was buried, as the enemy afterward took the fort, and buried all the dead in the fort in reconstructing." This surmise was afterwards ascertained to be correct through a flag of truce. Thus died at the early age of twenty-two, after serving his country from the very outbreak of the war, in almost all parts of the field, and faithfully sharing the fortunes of four different regiments, the brave, generous, and ardent John Hodges.