1st Maine Heavy Artillery held an unenviable record

Few men ever made a more desperate, deadly rush into history than the soldiers of the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery did on June 18, 1864, at Petersburg, Va. Just past 4:30 p.m. on that hot, dusty Saturday afternoon at a point east of the city, 850 men of the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery scrambled up the high bank which bordered the Prince George Court House Road.

Only a short time before, these artillerymen, now serving as infantry, had moved into this ready-made trench to prepare to spearhead an infantry assault. The assault was destined to secure for them an unwanted and unenviable place in American Civil War history. Within minutes, the 1st Maine, only a month out of the defenses of Washington, D.C., would hold the record for the highest number of casualties in a single battle of any regiment in the war.

Once clear of the road, the regiment quickly and precisely regained the formation which the climb had disrupted — three long lines of four companies each. In front of them, 350 yards across an open field, lay their objective — the Confederate earthworks defending the strategically important city. To the rear, from a vantage point near the O.P. Hare mansion, their regimental colonel, Daniel Chaplin, now commaniding their own 3rd Brigade, 3rd Division, 2nd Corps, watched with justifiable pride. He had brought these men from Maine in 1862 as the 18th Maine Volunteer Infantry. To their disgust, upon reaching the nation’s capital, they had been diverted from front line service to help build, then help man the ring of earthwork defenses around the city. Finally redesignated as the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery, the regiment remained for two years waiting for an enemy that never came.

That time had not been wasted, however. For two years as garrison troops, they had constantly drilled both as infantry and heavy artillery. Today, Chaplin’s regiment, commanded by Major Russell B. Shepard, acted and moved like a regiment of regulars.

Earlier in the afternoon, Col. Chaplin had received word that his new command, consisting of seven battle-depleted veteran infantry regiments as well as the 1st Maine, had been chosen to try a breakthrough of the Confederate line. The plan was simple and direct — a javelin thrust with the fresh, strong 1st Maine leading. The veteran regiments wuld move in close support on the flanks to draw away enemy fire and to exploit any success made by the Maine regiment. Strong reserves would be ready to follow up once the Confederate line was pierced. Here at last was a chance for the heavy artillerymen to prove themselves to the veterans of the campaigns of 1862 and 1863, men who had made them the object of constant ridicule for the past month.

The danger was evident. Since the Army of the Potomac had reached the outskirts of Petersburg three days before, numerous attempts had been made to crack the Confederate line; none of them had succeeded. Not only did assaulting troops have to cross the open ground in front of the rebel defenses, they also had to clear carefully placed obstructions of tangled brush and branches (abatis) at the base of the earthworks. All of this was before they could close with the Confederates themselves.

Within the ranks of the 1st Maine, now in full view of the entire Confederte line, seconds seemed like hours. Except for scattered sharpshooter firing, the Southerners were quiet, waiting for the Yankee regiments to move. Men nervously checked weapons, adjusted belts, and pulled caps down tight. Within the second rank, the regimental colors were uncased and they moved in the breeze.

Each man knew what was expected of him. Those in the first rank, commanded by Maj. Shepherd, would clear the abatis. Twenty paces behind, the second rank, commanded by Maj. Christopher V. Crossman, would give them covering fire. Once the way was clear, both ranks. followed by the third, commanded by Capt. Whitney S. Clark, would break over the Confederate works, now manned by Colquitt’s Georgians. But first they had to get there.

Like a starter’s gun, the clarion voice of Maj. Shepherd broke the silence. “FORWARD! DOUBLE QUICK-CHARGE!” With a cheer, the first rank vaulted forwad, followed immediately by the second, then the third. Instantly, the Confederate works erupted in a sheet of flame. At a run, the 1st Maine surged ahead — alone. There was no support.

The veteran regiments, instantly seeing a hopeless situation, either failed to advance or went forward only a short distance before breaking. Now the Confederate line, infantry, and artillery, had only a single target, the lone Maine regiment.

A survivor vivdly recalled, “I saw the blinding flash of red flame run along the crest of those works and heard the deafening crash as the awful work began; then air seemed filled with all the sounds it was possible for it to contain, the hiss of the deadly mine, the scream of the shell … and through it all that red blaze along the crest of that work which must cross…” The first rank, then the second and third, were literally torn to pieces. None had ever even reached the first objective, the abatis.

In less than 10 minutes it was all over. The regiment managed to cover 300 yards or more through the “burning, seething, crashing, hissing hell” before it broke and those that were able came staggering back to the Union lines. But most remained on the field. Of the 850 men who began, 240 were dead or dying, 364 lay wounded, 28 were missing, and in an instant of slaughter the 1st Maine had secured for itself the unenviable record of the greatest loss in a single battle of any regiment in the Civil War.

In addition to the tragic record set of June 18, the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery also stands first among Civil War regiments in total battle casualties wiht a final tally of 23 officers and 418 enlisted men killed or dead from wounds, and 923 wounded, all in only 11 months of field service — mute testimony to the savage nature of the final year of the war.

Earl J. Coates is a museum curator for the Department of Defense whose great-great uncle, Nathan D. Hanson, Co. F, was killed in the charge of June 18, 1864. A Bar Harbor native and University of Maine graduate, Coates is a supervisory park ranger at Boston National Historical Park.