Roster and Statistical Record of Company D, of the Eleventh Regiment Maine Infantry Volunteers: With a Sketch of Its Services in the War of the Rebellion

In Short

This book is a regimental history and biographical record of Company D, Eleventh Maine Infantry Volunteers, during the American Civil War. It combines a narrative sketch of the company’s movements—from the swamps of the Chickahominy to the final surrender at Appomattox—with a comprehensive roster and statistical accounting of its members. By cataloging the fates of these men long after their service, it transcends the typical military report to become a memorial, documenting the high human cost of the conflict and the quiet, often tragic, lives led by survivors afterward.

The Story

The narrative begins in the autumn of 1861 with the formation of Company D, composed largely of men from Maine’s rural northern towns. Their journey is one of immense physical and emotional attrition. Initially, the men experience the war through the lens of young volunteers: they encounter the indignities of camp life, the frustrations of bureaucratic mismanagement, and the thrill of outwitting perceived superiors. They soon learn, however, that the reality of the war is far grimmer than the early months of marching suggest.

The company is thrust into the Peninsula Campaign, where they endure the stifling humidity and fever-ridden swamps of the Chickahominy. The arc of their service is characterized by a transition from eager participation to a hardened, defensive resilience. They experience the terrifying "harsh music" of war—the destruction of bridges and the relentless pressure of Confederate forces—before being shifted to the Department of the South. Here, the men take up heavy artillery duties, training their mortar fire on the crumbling walls of Fort Sumter.

The middle of the narrative is marked by the grinding, stationary warfare before Petersburg. The men live in a cycle of exposure: shivering in "head-high holes" on the picket line, enduring the scorching sun, and constantly dodging the pervasive fire of an entrenched enemy. The account captures the psychological toll of this existence, where safety is non-existent and the smallest movement can invite death. Despite these conditions, the company displays a persistent, stubborn courage, famously standing its ground at the New Market Road against a "cyclone of lead."

The final chapter of their service is a race against time and exhaustion. As the Confederacy begins to collapse in the spring of 1865, the men of Company D are caught up in the frenetic, decisive pursuit of General Lee’s army. They march through rain and mud, pushed by the strategic necessity of cutting off the enemy’s escape to Lynchburg. The narrative concludes with the surrender at Appomattox, though the author’s scope remains wider than the military victory. The book extends into the post-war lives of the company members, recording their subsequent injuries, deaths, and eventual occupations. The story does not end with the bugle’s final note, but with the long, slow process of accounting for the survivors and the dead, providing a final, statistical tally of the company's service—a ledger of sacrifice that serves as the ultimate conclusion to their shared history.

How It Unfolds

The mobilization of the frontier Company D is formed in 1861, drawing recruits from the upper Penobscot region of Maine. These men, mostly farmers and laborers, are quickly thrust into the unfamiliar and unforgiving terrain of Virginia.

The Peninsula and the Chickahominy The company faces the realities of sustained combat during the Peninsula Campaign, retreating under fire as they destroy vital infrastructure. They learn to survive in the face of sudden artillery strikes and the exhausting, muddy marches that define their early service.

The shift to the Southern coast The regiment is reassigned to the Department of the South, where the men pivot from infantry work to heavy artillery duties. They spend their days operating mortars against the fortress at Sumter, balancing the technical precision of gunnery with the dangerous monotony of island life.

The siege of Petersburg The narrative moves to the grueling, daily grind of the trenches before Petersburg, where the company endures a cycle of picket duty and camp-life under constant threat. This section details the psychological strain of being invested in a war of attrition where the line between life and death is measured in inches.

The final pursuit and surrender The book tracks the climactic movements of 1865, as the company takes part in the forced marches and aggressive maneuvers that finally force Lee’s surrender. The narrative captures the raw exhaustion of the men as they march toward Appomattox, driven by a singular, urgent purpose.

The accounting of the survivors The volume concludes with the "Roster and Statistical Record," which tracks the members of the company long after the war. It serves as a final roll call, noting those who were killed, those who died of disease, and the disparate paths the survivors took in the years that followed.

The People

The company is defined by its leaders and the persistent, often anonymous, men in the ranks. Colonel John C. Caldwell stands out as a figure of calm, disciplined authority, exemplified by his icy, masterful dismissal of a condescending regular army officer. His presence provides a sense of steadiness amidst the chaos. Lieutenant Maxfield, the compiler of these records, often positions himself as a participant-observer, balancing the need for tactical descriptions with the personal, often harrowing, recollections of his men.

Corporal Weymouth represents the quintessential volunteer: a man who, even when his rifle is empty and he is facing a desperate, charging enemy, maintains a cool, defiant front that forces his opponents to flee. Similarly, the "Fighting Chaplain" Henry Clay Trumbull is remembered for his singular commitment to his men, brandishing a revolver in the heat of battle rather than merely offering prayers. Then there are the rank and file like Privates Bridges and Kelly, whose lives are truncated by the war—one falling in the reserve pit, another succumbing to the horrors of Andersonville Prison. Through the detailed roster, these men are transformed from soldiers into individuals with specific origins, wounds, and post-war fates, ensuring that even those who died in obscurity retain their place in the company’s history.

In Its Own Voice

"The Colonel looked at him in his large placid way, without answering him, much as a mastiff looks at a snarling terrier."

This describes the moment Colonel Caldwell effectively silenced a superior officer who questioned his regiment's movement during a march.

"The unpleasant fact speedily dawned on us that a picket line lay behind us firing too at the Confederate rifle flashes, as they supposed, but really at our own, so that we poor fellows were between two fires."

This recounts the harrowing experience of being caught in a dangerous crossfire between Confederate forces and their own disorganized comrades.

"We are particularly proud of this victory, as we won it without the protecting works so necessary to break the headlong impetus of an assaulting force, and in beating off the enemy's heavy charging columns stood in about single rank."

This highlights the company's pride in their defensive stand at the New Market Road, where they fought in a thin, vulnerable line against a massive assault.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the fragility of memory and the enduring bond of shared trauma. It asks how a group of disparate individuals from Maine’s rural hinterlands were transformed by the "mortal warfare" of the 1860s. The argument is implicit: the war was not merely a series of grand battles, but a collection of thousands of individual, isolated experiences of suffering, waiting, and survival. The book challenges the reader to look past the political and military headlines to find the human history hidden in the blanks of a roster. It questions how a nation accounts for the men it mobilized, and whether a statistical record can ever truly hold the weight of the lives it quantifies.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the granular, day-to-day reality of historical events will find this book deeply compelling. It does not offer the sweeping, romanticized view of war often found in fiction; instead, it offers the unfiltered perspective of a man who lived through the mud, the boredom, and the terror of the trenches. Reading it feels like sitting down with a veteran who has spent decades organizing his thoughts, wanting to ensure that the names of his friends are not forgotten.

The book is not without its challenges. The prose is functional and occasionally dense, reflecting the Victorian-era tendency toward long, winding sentences and the rigid, formal structure of military reporting. Modern readers may also find the mid-19th-century attitudes toward the enemy and the war’s geography slightly detached or alien. However, the reward for navigating these barriers is a rare, authentic look at a generation defined by its service. What stays with you is not just the list of battles, but the quiet, devastating notes in the roster—"Died in Service," "Died in Andersonville," or the simple, haunting entry of a man caught in a machine years after he survived the war. It is an essential document for anyone seeking to understand the human scale of the Civil War.