An Account of the 160th Battle of the Wilderness

What do you get when you put 17 reenactors from three different units together into two vans? A hilarious and long-ass ride to the 160th Battle of the Wilderness!

The Drive

On May 2nd, in pouring rain, a large batch of us loaded up the vans with equipment from our starting point in Brunswick, Maine. We were packing light. No A frame tents – just shelter halves and gum blankets. This was a test to see how we do with a minimal amount of gear. I’d like to say we did well. I had hoped to just sleep on my blanket, but rain was in the forecast.

A lot of events lend themselves well to larger tents and more lavish set ups. But those tend to be our in-state or nearby New England events. The 160th Wilderness or “Devilish Entanglement” was a progressive/campaigner style scenario. We were on the way to portray Companies I and K of the 44th New York – the progressive unit.

Sidebar

If you don’t know, there are three factions in reenacting (I use the term “faction” carefully). We have mainstream, progressive, and campaigner. Mainstream is usually more lenient on historical accuracy. It also involves larger tents and the ability to bring coolers and modern cots to sleep on. Nothing wrong with those parts. Campaigners consider themselves the best of the reenacting community. They don’t use big tents. They sometimes choose one individual to portray. Their attention to detail is unmatched. Somewhere in the middle are progressives, folks who are able to bounce between the two sides. That’s where I stand.

At this reenactment, two regiments were portrayed for each side, a progressive and a campaigner style. Honestly, I didn’t find much difference between us and the campaigner style 83rd Pennsylvania. In fact, after it had rained pretty hard on Saturday night and Sunday morning, most of the 83rd PA left. But the members of Company K, along with other companies in the 44th NY stuck around to have another fight.

End Sidebar

We picked up two more van riders, one in Wells, Maine, and the other in Berlin, Massachusetts. And then the real ride began. I knew most of the guys in the vans. We’re 3rd Maine boys. We also took some 2nd Rhode Island fellows and one 28th Massachusetts man. I sat in the middle row of the silver Ford Transit. We took naps, watched hilarious videos, and shared memes.

The ride down always feels shorter than the drive home. I think a lot of that has to do with the excitement. We were all stoked for this event, which I heard was invite-only. To be invited is an honor and a compliment to our units’ preservation of history and dedication to authenticity. At the same time, I’m not sure that invite-only events bring the community together. There were strict requirements for uniforms and camping. I’m sure other units could have joined as well without issue. But it is what it is and I had a great time.

Gettysburg

Most of us have been to Gettysburg at least a handful of times. And one of us was nerdy enough to propose there (Cheers, Dalton!). But on this trip, we got to pop two Gettysburg cherries. While a few fellows griped about always having to hit up Gettysburg and how overplayed it is, I have to admit that the town has its perks.

Gettysburg offers a manageable drive of 11 hours. The town is easy to walk around and boasts restaurants of all sorts. I ate a yummy Reuben at Garry Owen with a couple of pints of Sullivans Dry Irish Stout. One of the best reasons to visit Gettysburg on the way to an event are the sutlers based in the area. There’s the Regimental Quartermaster and Maryland Sutler. I’m not sure if S&S is still open, but they were a good spot to visit as well.

Yes, I’d like to venture out and see some other battlefields, but Gettysburg is a good stopping point during longer drives. Gettysburg holds important markers for all the regiments we portray: 3rd Maine, 2nd Rhode Island, 28th Massachusetts.

Friday

We arrived on site Friday afternoon, where those who had not changed already did so. Captain Bray marched us in, each of us carrying what we’d need on our backs and in our hands. Most of the company set up their own shelter half or joined a pard to conjoin their two halves into one small tent. I convinced four others to join me in a shebang.

The term shebang, I believe, was coined during the Civil War. It might reference tents, huts, or other types of shelter. In our case, we buttoned four shelter halves together. The corners were held two feet up with a beam supporting the center. This provided the most room for five guys to sleep in…and we’re not all skinny.

When our camp was set up, we were issued rations: ten pieces of hardtack, a slab of bacon, coffee, sugar, two potatoes, an onion, and a bag of rice. Sergeant Hulsey informed us that was the actual ration that the 44th NY was provided before the Battle of the Wilderness. That helped provide some immersion. We cooked these rations Friday night, as it appeared there would be little free time on Saturday.

Saturday

I slept quite well leading into Saturday. I woke just before our 6:30am reveille. Almost everyone was awake as well, hovering around the campfire. I joined them with my mucket (a tin cup with a lid on it) and coffee beans. After pounding some beans in the mucket, I poured some water from my canteen and set it on the coals. Nothing like campfire coffee!

We inspected rifles that morning and drilled a little. Captain Bray ensured that both companies K and I were comfortable with two maneuvers we were certain to use later in the day. Then we had battalion drill, which was a little awkward with different orders and expectations. But we worked around them, griping along the way.

Finally, in the mid-morning, we formed up for our first battle. We marched out onto a field, facing the Confederates who had put up breastworks. One Confederate saw this mass of blue and anticipated an immediate attack. He hucked a large limb on top of the breastworks and I thought the whole thing would go tumbling down. It did not. And the man rushed through a hole in the rebel line. And we did not attack. Our battalion marched back, reformed, and waited.

After what may have been twenty minutes or perhaps just ten minutes, it was time. Both battalions, perhaps 400 men moved ahead. The 44th NY was halted and the 83rd PA rushed the Confederate defenders. They took devastating losses, perhaps an entire quarter of their number. But after the rebs retreated from their defenses, the 83rd reformed and pushed further into some woods. The 44th NY took position behind the breastworks and waited.

We heard quite the racket going on – musket fire, orders, yelling. Soon, a few Union troops were running back. We ushered them behind our line. Then more men in blue. They were followed closely by gray and butternut. Despite our waving and yelling for the men to move behind us, they formed a line perpendicular to ours. This prevented us from firing as much to begin with, but the rebs came out with a fighting spirit and drove the remnants of the 83rd back. We started shooting a lot then!

The Confederates were pouring out of the woods now. There seemed to be an endless supply of gray. They moved on us and took back their breastworks. Now the fight shifted to the field. At some point I took a hit – a gut shot. You might see me in the middle of the fighting, up on one elbow, trying to find help. The Confederates were no longer just in front, they appeared on the left of the line, where Company K was supposed to be. But I watched my friends and comrades fall back, mostly in good order. And there I was, gut shot and likely to die soon enough.

Of course, I wasn’t actually wounded. But for a moment, as the Confederate line advanced over me and other dead or wounded Union troops, I felt a brief sense of dread. I thought, what if I’m captured? And then I realized that it wouldn’t matter if I was gut shot. No one survives a gut shot. Then I remembered where I was and I would be getting up in a half hour or so to rejoin my unit and we’d fight again later. But I had a small time to feel concerned for my “well-being.” Shoutout to Jesse, who I watched take a sucking chest wound. He portrayed this “wound” so well that he nearly vomited from the coughing and harsh breathing.

Did we use the fancy commands drilled with the battalion? Certainly not! But that’s how it goes.

When that battle had concluded, both sides returned to camp. We cleaned rifles briefly and relaxed a bit. Details were sent into the woods behind our camp to raise our own breastworks. Word was the rebs might attack us. Company K helped plenty with piling on logs and branches. Cheers to Private Booth for pulling out entire trees by himself. And huzzah to Corporal Conant and Pioneer Cook with their axes. I lost a cork in those woods hacking away at a dead tree.

Funny story! We were supposed to have another pitched battle in a field. But there was a group of Union lads who were intent on holding the breastworks they forged. The fighting grew and they didn’t flee. As the rest of the 44th NY waited in line, we listened anxiously to the growing battle in the woods. Finally! The Colonel ordered us in! “Left face! Forward, March!” Inverted we were, but we filled in the trenches and breastworks in good order. And then the rebs came at us.

Captain Bray ordered us to fire by company as well as by file. Other companies were impressed with our volleys. It really did sound like one giant musket going off, instead of 18 individual ones. We held off the rebs. The whole episode felt like the 20th Maine and Little Round Top. Indeed, we held the ridge just below the crest of the wooded hill. Sometimes we could see only movement and other times we saw a line of men approaching us. We were the end of the left flank of the Union force and soon we were facing Confederates on our flank. But we held.

Unfortunately for me, my rifle began to misfire. I’ll need a new tumbler on my Enfield. So I came off the line and used my sergeant’s tool to fix anybody’s rifle that I could. When the rebs fell back, Companies K and I were authorized to move off the line and hunt for the rebs. We moved back to our camp, where we had heard some fighting. No one was there, so we moved into the woods and towards the sound of muskets. Down the hill we went and came upon some new breastworks.

Captain Bray halted us. About twenty yards further was a path. A lone rebel walked leisurely down, heading somewhere. Captain Bray ordered Private Graham to dispatch him. The private obeyed but missed, and the Confederate increased his pace to safety. By now, we were detached and operating at Captain Bray’s discretion, just how we liked. It was a tactical; the entire battle plan had fallen to bits. Anything that happened would be left to our cunning commander. Captain Bray directed us in whispers in between contacts with the enemy.

Behind us, we heard movement: men from the 83rd PA. Captain Bray had me tell them to link up with us and we’d push down and find the Confederates. I had trouble identifying the commanding officer but ended up talking to a Captain. As I was about to tell them of our intentions, Captain Bray came to my side and said it for me. Thanks, Captain!

With the help of this additional force, we moved through the woods and then to the right. We pushed a small force of Confederates. Captain Bray split our company into platoons. First platoon advanced up a hill with the 83rd PA guys. Second platoon, commanded by Lieutenant Cairns, held the base of the hill and covered the flank. I stayed with second platoon. Our drummer, Private Thurlow, and I kept an eye on a path. Second Sergeant Hulsey and Lieutenant Cairns remained engaged with a small force of Confederates, no more than a squad.

At some point, I offered to charge the rebs, but we were too soon ordered to rejoin first platoon. We hustled up the hill to find an amicable and mixed group of Yankees and Confederates. I’m not sure what happened, but it looked as if we had captured some Southerners. That seemed to be the conclusion of our second engagement.

Pickets were posted, rifles were cleaned, and dinner was had. As evening turned to night, many of us went to the overpriced brewery about a mile away. Well, perhaps a quarter mile as the crow flies, but a mile through the necessary paths and roads. I traveled with Private Booth. We each bought a non-refillable growler. I’m a little annoyed that they were non-refillable…I mean that’s the whole point of a growler. It was expensive as is. But we had a good time listening to some period music and chatting. Booth finished his growler by the time we left. We finished mine just a few minutes into our walk back.

It was beginning to sprinkle.

Rain

I stayed up briefly by the fire with others. Strangers wandered in, most of them drunk, asking for directions. Then they’d stay for a few minutes before wandering off again. I went to sleep knowing full well I wouldn’t be getting much of it. We were crammed in pretty tight in that tent. I had about four inches of space from my left shoulder to the edge of the tent. It poured.

I woke up to the sound of voices and the light of two candles. When I peered over, my buddy Private Valladares was sitting up with everyone else. I decided I’d join them. It was too wet to sleep. I don’t recall now much of what we talked about, but there was a lot of delirious laughing and stupid jokes. Soon, we were joined by First Sergeant Pinette and Sergeant Hulsey. Poor Sergeant Hulsey had his tent cave in. I mean, that’s kind of funny since it wasn’t me.

Sunday

I did doze off again at maybe 4:30am for an hour. When I woke up, the tent was mostly empty. But Private Graham had fallen asleep again as well. I joined the company by the fire, where I attempted to dry my soaking wet brogans and socks. The mood was less than ecstatic. Still high, but subdued. It’s difficult to explain. Captain Bray took a roll of who would be interested in fighting again. I wasn’t sure. My rifle wasn’t working and I considered packing up. The only dry….less wet pair of socks I had were the ones I used the previous day. All of my extra socks and shirt were soaked.

But then again! I had come to reenact. In the end, that’s what I would do. Meanwhile, little groups of men were marching past us. It was the 83rd PA leaving. These were the campaigners supposedly. 95% of our company decided to fight. A few who chose not to packed the vans with our gear so we could leave right after the battle.

Before the battle, Companies I and K took photos. I’m in Company K, but Company I looked really badass. The battle on Sunday was a good one with more breastworks. And I watched a cannon shot completely obliterate an entire Yankee company right next to us. It was one of the best hits I’ve seen in my reenacting career. In fact, there were a lot of really good hits at this event. As the 44th NY was formed with perhaps a quarter of the 83rd PA, our force was much smaller – a good representation of Saturday’s casualties.

I’m particularly appreciative of the fellows I shared this experience with. So thank you to everyone for being cool (Go Dirty Bears!). There were a couple of dangerous interactions this weekend. One occurred on Saturday when I was wounded and nearby, Private Thurlow lay “dead.” A Confederate officer followed his troops as they marched over us. His pistol was out and pointed down. As the officer stepped over Thurlow, the officer’s pistol remained pointed down. When Thurlow told the man to point the pistol elsewhere, the man said, “It’s not loaded. Get over it!” Not cool. And not safe.

There were also a few times when muskets were fired much too close to be safe. Elevation and awareness of surroundings must be taught in all units. Sergeant Hulsey lost his hearing for half of Saturday. And Private Rain almost lost his face. But despite these instances, this event showed the hobby is going strong. There were perhaps 600 people who participated in this 160th Battle of the Wilderness. I witnessed some great moments and a few not-so-great moments. But we learn every day about history and humanity. The core of my experience was formed within these two companies.

One thing about this event was the speed at which it passed. I’ve never had an event fly by so quickly. I did my best to appreciate the moments and pause occasionally. I was back in Brunswick in no time. Then back to work. It’s amazing how time works.

Reflection

Reenactors are often a divided lot. And it’s not along the sides you’d think. In person, I have watched veteran reenactors assist newcomers. We share our gear and our advice. In person, most are super helpful. But as the reenacting community has gone online, I’ve seen a lot of shaming and general rudeness. The kindness I’ve seen in person is less present and is overtaken by folks calling others an insult to reenacting.

There are things we can all do to improve our roles as living historians. I’d like to lose a decent amount of weight, for one. I also intend to purchase a kit to sew my own uniform. There are a lot of overweight reenactors because that’s the world we live in. There’s less exercise with office jobs. We should all take care of the bodies we inhabit, but that’s another matter. The point is that constructive feedback is the best way to help someone. And we also have to be willing to take constructive feedback.

For instance, calling someone a farb for wearing black boots instead of period brogans isn’t helpful. It may be that someone needs more support to participate in the hobby. Calling someone out for wearing the wrong shirt is not as helpful as recommending a sutler to visit or tips on making a more period-correct clothing article. Overall, the majority of reenactors are a supportive and helpful community. As long as we continue learning and improving our kits, it’ll be solid.