Paine, Sumner

SUMNER PAINE. Second Lieutenant 20th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), April 23, 1863; killed at Gettysburg, Pa., July 3, 1863. A BRIEF sketch of Sumner Paine is all that will be of general interest, as his life was short and he was in the service" of his country only two months. He was born May 10, 1845, son of Charles C. Paine of Boston, and great-grandson of Robert Treat Paine, a patriot of the Revolution. His mother was Fanny C., daughter of Hon. Charles Jackson. When eleven years old, he went with his family to Europe, and even at that age explored with great interest all the ruins in and around Rome. The summer in Switzerland was an intense delight to him; he accompanied his brothers in two pedestrian excursions among the Alps, exploring most of the passes of central Switzerland and the valleys of Zermatt and Chamouni, and climbing some of the highest mountains without the least fatigue. Twenty or thirty miles a day over a high mountain pass was to him the height of enjoyment. At the end of his last day's walk, over the Gemmi, from Lenkerbad to Interlachen, a good forty miles, he was fresh and brisk. His letters to his young friends at home described vividly these different scenes, in boyish but graphic words. He returned to Boston in 1858, at the age of thirteen, and re-entered the Latin School, where he soon regained the ground he had lost in his two years' absence, ranking there as first scholar. He entered Harvard College in July, 1861. He learned with great ease, and took a high stand in his Class; but he had a strong desire, from the very beginning of the war, to take part in it, and this prevented his feeling such an interest in his college studies and duties as he would have felt in more peaceful times. He entered the army in May, 1863, as Second Lieutenant in the Twentieth Massachusetts Volunteers. He well knew the history of this regiment, and its reputation for discipline and gallantry, as proved by the unusual losses among its officers; but instead of deterring him, these facts were his chief attraction. He received his commission with pleasure; and with high resolves to make himself a thorough soldier, -a career for which he was admirably adapted in physique and mental power, - he hastened instantly to his post. Just eighteen years old, he joined his regiment at Fredericksburg, late on Saturday evening, May 2d, receiving a warm welcome from his brother officers. Early on the following morning began the battle of Chancellorsville. Captain O. W. Holmes was very soon wounded, and Lieutenant Paine took the command of his company, which place he held through that terrible day; and he was, according to all statements, calm and cool. Then came the forced marches which carried our army to Gettysburg, and the battle that followed. Wednesday and Thursday had left the fortunes of war trembling in the balance. On Friday, July 3, 1863, the Second Corps, under Hancock, held the left centre of our line, midway between the Cemetery and the Round Top, - the lowest part of our lines, left by nature the easiest to assault, and thus the key to our position. It was here that General Lee ordered Pickett's division, composed in good part of veteran Virginia troops, and supported by another column, to make their last terrible assault. Not a shot was fired by the Twentieth Massachusetts till the enemy were near, and Lieutenant-Colonel Macy gave the order. Then its fire was quick and deadly. Though directly in front of them, the enemy did not reach them; but ten or twenty rods to their right, the weight of the enemy crushed through our line, passing over it, perhaps thirty or forty yards, up a little hill. It was the crisis of the day, if not the turningpoint of the war. General Hancock, in command of the corps, and General Gibbon, in command of the division, had both been wounded. Colonel Hall, commanding the brigade, was hurrying up his men. Lieutenant-Colonel Macy received orders from him to lead the Twentieth Massachusetts against the enemy. He gave his orders to Captain Abbott, who commanded the right company, and to his Adjutant, but before they were repeated to any one else, both himself and his Adjutant were shot down. Captain Abbott led his company, and the other companies seeing the movement, and with the instinct of assault, followed. Other troops came up. It was in this attack, in the thickest of the fight, and exposing himself in front of his men, that Lieutenant Paine was struck by a ball which broke his leg. Falling on one knee he waved his sword, and urged on his men, and was at that moment struck by a shell, which caused instant death. His last words, just before he fell, were, "Isn't this glorious?" The Twentieth Massachusetts mustered that night only three officers and twenty men. But of Pickett's assaulting column, a still smaller proportion was left, for there were few who crossed our line without being killed or captured. The fittest record of Lieutenant Paine's bright promise as an officer and of his heroic death is in the following words of the lamented Major Abbott: "There is one thing I can bear testimony to, and that is his wonderful talent in making himself one of the most accomplished officers I knew in the army in two months' time. His memory and application were so great that in a month's time he knew the whole book of tactics and regulations, and commanded a division in battalion and brigade drill as well as any old officer, besides doing all his guard and police duty with an exactness, a rigor, an enthusiasm, that the commanding officer in vain tried to stimulate in some of the older officers, sparing neither himself nor his men. When Lieutenant Paine was officer of the guard, his influence was felt by the remotest sentinel on the outskirts of the town. His intelligence and discipline and indomitable resolution were so fully recognized by Colonel Macy, that he often spoke of promoting him. Besides Lieutenant Summerhays, who saw him as I have described, he was seen by Lieutenant Perkins during the action, his face, according to both, actually glowing with pleasure, as it used in Falmouth when he had the best of an argument. He used always to be asking me how an officer should bear himself in battle, when he should be behind and when before his men. I had always rather understated than overstated the amount of danger it was necessary to incur, because I had seen at Fredericksburg that he would be rather disposed to expose himself too much than otherwise. He certainly carried out to the letter the duty, as he used to describe it, of an officer charging at the head of his men, and he evidently felt all the joy he supposed he should. His body was found close to the fence where the Rebels made their last desperate stand."