Battle of Williamsburg.1 Hooker.2 Hancock.3 Sumner.4 Longstreet.5 Hill.6 Fort Magruder.7 Williamsburg.
Battle of Williamsburg.
1 Hooker.
2 Hancock.
3 Sumner.
4 Longstreet.
5 Hill.
6 Fort Magruder.
7 Williamsburg.
General Hooker's skirmishers, as soon as they saw the enemy, dashed on and drove them across the ravine, and approached within musket-shot of the fort. The artillery in the fort opened with a rapid fire of shells, but the skirmishers concealed themselves in the underbrush, and gave sodeadly a fire that they silenced the guns. No gunner could show his head without getting a ball through it.
General Hooker formed his division in line of battle. His first brigade was commanded by General Sickles, and was composed of the First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Excelsior regiments from New York. His second brigade, General Grover's, was composed of the First and Eleventh Massachusetts, Second New Hampshire, and Twenty-sixth Pennsylvania. The third brigade was composed of the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth New Jersey regiments, and was commanded by Colonel Starr,—in all, about eight thousand men.
The First Massachusetts had the left of the line, then the Second New Hampshire, Eleventh Massachusetts, with the Twenty-sixth Pennsylvania on the right. The other brigades did not arrive till nearly noon. They formed on the left of Grover's brigade, towards the mill-pond.
The Rebel force in position behind the forts is supposed to have been about thirty thousand, commanded by General Longstreet. A Rebel officer states that it numbered not over twenty-five thousand.18
During the forenoon but a small force confronted General Grover's brigade, but in the afternoon dark columns appeared south of the fort, and, advancing down the ravines, crossed the stream above the mill-pond.
They attacked General Hooker's left wing ingreat force. The skirmishers were driven in. Bramhall's battery came into position as the enemy advanced. "Shell with short fuses!" shouted the captain to his gunners.
The shells exploded in, around, and above the advancing columns, which still kept coming on. The musketry began,—quick and sharp volleys; yet the lines came on, across the open space, through the woods.
"Canister and spherical case!" was the order to the gunners. The cannon spouted a deadly fire, filling the air with terrible hail. The Rebel lines were checked. Foiled in the attack upon the center, they advanced once more upon the left flank, and the contest went on with increasing fury, like the rising of a winter tempest.
Grover and Sickles held their ground tenaciously, but were forced back inch by inch and step by step.
The contest was in the edge of the forest, over fallen trees, where men fell headlong in their endeavors to take new positions. The rain was falling, the ground was miry. The men were worn and weary; but they fought on, minding not hunger or thirst or exhaustion, calling for ammunition. Their cartridge-boxes were empty, but they would not turn their backs upon the enemy, or desert their comrades whose cartridges still held out.
From noon till four o'clock General Hooker fought unaided. He sent to Sumner for reinforcements, but Sumner felt that he could not spare any men from his front. He sent officers to bring up the brigades in the rear.
General McClellan was at Yorktown, and didnot know there was a battle going on till late in the day.
The Rebels saw that Hooker received no reinforcements, and pressed him heavily. His troops supporting some of the batteries gave way. The Rebels came on in a desperate charge, shot the horses, and five cannon fell into their hands.
"Reinforcements! I want reinforcements!" was Hooker's cry. The impetuous Kearney, whose division was the last to leave Yorktown, had heard the roar of battle, and rode ahead of his troops. He was an old soldier, had stormed the heights of Chapultepec, and was with Louis Napoleon in the great battle of Solferino. He started back to hasten forward his division, but it was already advancing.
The brave, energetic, resolute Berry, who commanded one of Kearney's brigades, met an aide of General Sumner's.
"Who is engaged at the front?" he asked.
"Hooker is at it."
"Is he supported by Sumner?"
"No. Sumner is taking position farther to the right."
The road was filled with teams and troops of other brigades belonging to Sumner's corps. Berry looked at the blockade a moment, then said to a captain of one of his batteries,—
"Captain, go ahead and clear the road for my brigade."
"Let the march be upon the double-quick," was the order sent down the line.
"Clear the road!" was the authoritative order sent up the line. The troops, the wagons, theartillery, the ambulances, turned aside, and the brigade went on.
His quick ear caught the sound of musketry,—a constant, steady rattle, like the pattering of the rain-drops on the dead leaves.
"Throw aside your knapsacks, and place a guard over them," was his order. The men, panting for breath, came to a halt, threw their heavy knapsacks into a heap, and went on again, faster than before.
Kearney met them. "You have done well, General," was his salutation to Berry. He stimulated the men, and fired their ardor with his own wild enthusiasm. They rushed on through by-paths, across pastures and fields.
Hooker's line was giving way. It had been pushed back a mile, had lost a portion of its guns, and the exultant enemy were advancing for a decisive, a finishing stroke. Many had fired their last round of ammunition, and stood with empty muskets. How earnestly they looked towards the rear to see if the promised aid was ever to arrive!
Help at last. A dark column comes through the woods upon the run. A wild, tumultuous cheer rends the air. The men who are ready to drop from sheer exhaustion, who have confronted the enemy through the lagging hours, feel new strength as Berry sweeps past them, deploys his line right and left, and becomes a living barrier between them and the tide already rolling on over the bloody field. The enemy advances, but whole ranks go down before the deadly volleys given point-blank into their faces by that body of men whose brows are wet with the sweat of theirfast running. The breaker is broken. The wave which was ready to sweep Hooker from the face of the earth, instead of setting onward, begins to recede. It is beaten down before the fiery breath pouring like a furnace blast from the three thousand muskets.
The Rebels retreat. Berry advances. His volleys are steady and regular. Nothing can daunt his men. They feel that they are a power. Kearney sees that the time has come to decide the day.
"Give them the bayonet!" is the thrilling order which rings along the line.
An officer, young in years, fair of countenance, polished in manner, who has traveled at home and abroad, the same who in the silent hours of the last night at Yorktown wrote his last will and testament, the adjutant of General Berry, leads the men from Michigan. His voice rings loud and clear above the wild uproar. The men follow where he leads, into the leaden rain. They fall by scores, but on—on—on,—over the bloody field,—over fallen friends and foes,—they press the foe, regaining the ground, the lost cannon,—the victory!
"You are the hero of the day," said Kearney to Captain Smith, who had led the charge so gallantly, as he returned and reported for further duty, his clothes torn by the bullets of the enemy.
While this was transpiring on the left, there was its counterpart on the right.
General Hancock was detached by General Smith to cross the milldam at Queen's Creek, and attack the Rebels in that direction. He crossed the stream with the Sixth Maine, FourthWisconsin, Forty-ninth Pennsylvania, and Forty-third New York, Wheeler's battery, and a squadron of cavalry.
He came upon a small party of Rebels, who rapidly retreated.
"I can go to Fort Magruder if well supported," was the despatch he sent back to General Smith.
He could see the fort across the open plain, smoking and flaming and throwing shells upon Hooker's command. General Smith sent the message to General Sumner, requesting permission to send supports.
"Stay where you are," was the reply.
Again Hancock sent for permission to go on. Smith sent the request to Sumner.
"Go," was the welcome answer.
The troops were on the march, when an aide from Sumner stopped the movement. The Rebels were threatening an attack on the center.
"I want more force to support us. The enemy is coming in superior force to attack me," was Hancock's third message.
His position was in a field near a farm-house, where the Rebels had thrown up a square redoubt, which they had abandoned.
From the farm-house to the woods west of it there was a rail-fence. Hancock threw out his skirmishers towards Fort Magruder, beyond the farm-house. Wheeler's battery was brought up and placed upon a knoll near the house. The Fifth Wisconsin and Forty-Third New York were stationed west of the house behind the fence. The Forty-ninth Pennsylvania was placed behind the house. Two companies of the Sixth Maine held the abandoned redoubt, while the other companies of that regiment were placed in support of the battery.
Two brigades of Rebels marched out from the forest into the field. Wheeler's battery opened with shells. The Rebels were half a mile distant, but, notwithstanding the fire, they moved steadily and rapidly over the intervening space. The skirmishers which had been thrown out from Hancock returned to the lines. The Rebels were near enough for canister, and the six pieces of cannon threw it into the advancing line. The Rebel cavalry dashed upon the Fifth Wisconsin, but only to lose a dozen men and horses. The infantry were close upon Wheeler, who covered the hillock with a murky cloud. Suddenly his fire ceased, then with whip and spur and shout the pieces went to the rear and took a new position and opened again. The regiments by the fence fell back and closed up in closer order. The Rebels again advanced, and the musketry began. The fight was at short range. The battery fired shell, canister, and shrapnel, and made terrible havoc.
Hancock saw that the moment for decisive action had come. He waved his cap to his troops. The officers along the line understood the meaning of the signal. They spoke but one magical word. The men, as if animated by an electric impulse, moved towards the enemy. Their bayonets became a gleaming, glittering, bristling, moving hedge. They broke into a run. Each man felt the enthusiasm of the moment. They heeded not the deadly volleys, but went on through the storm, with a cheer louder than the roar of the battle.
The Rebels did not wait to receive the blow, but fled in confusion from the field.
It was a glorious moment. Berry at that instant was throwing in a living barrier against the flood which had swept Hooker back. The battle was won. Night came on. It had rained through the day, and the men, victorious at last, lay down to sleep upon the field, while the Rebels fled towards Richmond, leaving several cannon, many wagons, and several hundred of their wounded in Williamsburg.
The total Union loss was two thousand two hundred and eighty-eight. The loss to the Rebels was from two thousand five hundred to three thousand.
"Our loss amounted to about two thousand five hundred," says the chaplain of the Fourth Texas.
When the news of the battle reached Richmond there was great consternation, which was increased by the news of the blowing up of the Merrimack on the morning of the 11th of May.
"In the President's mansion about this time all was consternation and dismay," says Pollard, the Southern historian.19
Jefferson Davis's niece wrote a letter to a friend in Vicksburg, but the mail-bag was captured by the Yankee pickets.
"General Johnston," said the young lady, "is falling back from the Peninsula, and Uncle Jeff thinks we had better go to a safer place than Richmond. O mother! Uncle Jeff is miserable. He tries to be cheerful and bear up against such a continuation of troubles, but oh! I fear he cannot live long, if he does not get some rest and quiet.
"Our reverses distressed him so much, and he is so weak and feeble, it makes my heart ache to look at him. He knows that he ought to send his wife and children away, and yet he cannot bear to part with them, and we all dread to leave him too. Varina and I had a hard cry about it to-day.
"O, what a blow the fall of New Orleans was! It like to have set us all crazy here. Everybody looks depressed, and the cause of the Confederacy looks drooping and sinking; but if God is with us, who can be against us? Our troops are not doing as well as we expected.... The regiments most apt to run are from North Carolina and Tennessee.... I am afraid that Richmond will fall into the hands of the enemy, as there is no way to keep back the gunboats. James River is so high that all obstructions are in danger of being washed away, so that there is no help for the city....
"Uncle Jeff was confirmed last Tuesday in St. Paul's Church, by Bishop Johns. He was baptized at home, in the morning, before church."20
The Confederate Congress adjourned hastily. They sent off their families. The railroad trains going out were crowded with passengers. The public documents were boxed up and sent away. Mrs. Jefferson Davis took down her window-curtains, tore up the carpets, packed her silver plate and pictures, and left the city.21The Treasury Department removed its printing-presses to Georgia, and everybody prepared to leave the city, which they feared was doomed to fall into the hands of the Yankees.
When the Merrimack was blown up, the James River was open to the gunboats to Fort Darling, within ten miles of Richmond. The fort mounted four guns. Three of the gunboats bombarded it on the 13th, but were not able to silence the guns.
General McClellan's transports were at Yorktown and Fortress Monroe,—an immense fleet. His army was within five miles of the James. It will be for the future historian to inquire whether the army ought not to have been sent up the James instead of the Chickahominy.
After the battle of Antietam, a wounded Rebel officer who was left behind when Lee retreated, and who was General Magruder's Adjutant-General, conversed freely upon the Peninsular campaign.
"We were very much surprised at Yorktown," he said, "when we saw General McClellan make preparations for a siege."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, for we were ready to retreat at any moment. We had only a handful of men compared with his great army."
"How many men had Magruder at that time?"
"Not more than nine thousand and five hundred fit for duty, and they were strung out on a line thirteen miles long, from Gloucester to James River. If General McClellan had acted with vigor, and pushed our center as soon as he landed, he could have trampled us all down in the mud."
"But you had a large number of cannon, which swept the approaches, and could have inflicted great damage."
"He could have covered his real attack by feints on distant parts of the line, and Magruder's force was so small that he could not have resisted an earnest attack. The woods were so dense that McClellan could have effectually concealed all his movements."
"Some of General McClellan's officers were in favor of advancing at once."
"It was, in my judgment, if you will allow a Rebel to criticise your generals," said the officer with a smile, "his first mistake."
"Then you think it was a mistake on the part of General McClellan."
"Yes, for Lee's army had not reached us. Every day's delay on the part of General McClellan gave us reinforcements. It gave us time to fortify Richmond. The Confederate army was much reduced at that time. The term of enlistments of many regiments had expired, and the Conscription Act had not been enforced. The fortunes of the Confederacy at that time were not very bright, I must confess. Even the Confederate Congress closed its session and left Richmond, and, had it not been for McClellan's delay and the energy with which troops from all quarters were conscripted and rushed into Richmond, it would have gone hard with us. And when we evacuated Yorktown, General McClellan did not do as I should have done, had I commanded you Yankees."
"Ah! how so?"
"The Virginia, or the Merrimack, as you callher, was blown up on the 10th. It was a bitter pill to us, and if I were Jefferson Davis I would hang old Huger, who commanded at Norfolk, for his cowardly conduct in evacuating the place. When the Merrimack was destroyed, General McClellan, instead of following us up the Peninsula through the mud, ought to have re-embarked his troops and made all haste up the James. Your gunboats went up to Fort Darling and got smashed, but if he had landed below the Fort he could have carried it from the rear with his infantry, for we had few troops there. He could have then brought his gunboats to Richmond ahead of us who were paddling in the mud of the Chickahominy."
"I suppose that General McClellan did what he thought was best at the time."
"Probably; but it happened to be the very best movement he could have made for us," said the officer, with a smile.
There was much suffering in the hospitals on the Peninsula. The medical department was not well organized, but the delegates of the Christian and Sanitary Commissions were present, and saved the lives of many men.
They saw a soldier in a tent one day who was fast passing away. He had fought his last battle with the enemy of his country. He was a noble man, but he was worn out by disease. He had worked in the slimy swamps, on the fortifications, and was covered with filth. He had lost all his strength, and was so weak that he could not raise his hand to his head. They washed him, changed his clothing, lifted him from the damp ground and placed him on a cot, gave him nourishingfood, talked to him of home, of mother, of Jesus, his best friend, of a better world. The soldier tried to thank them, but was too weak to articulate the words. He could only take the chaplain's hand, press it to his cheek, and bathe it with tears of gratitude.
Thus the friends at home, by their Christian sympathy and charity, sustained and comforted the brave defenders of their country, in their last hours.
Onthe 16th of May the whole army, with the exception of Hooker's division, which remained at Williamsburg, was at the White House on the Pamunkey, where a permanent depot was established. The cavalry under General Stoneman, and the infantry pickets, were on the banks of the Chickahominy.
General McClellan called for reinforcements. In response, the President informed him, on the 18th, that General McDowell had been ordered to march from Fredericksburg to join him by the shortest route, but was also ordered to keep himself in position to cover Washington, and General McClellan was instructed to open communication with him.
"This order," says General McClellan, "rendered it impossible for me to use the James River as a line of operations, and forced me to establishour depots on the Pamunkey, and to approach Richmond from the north. It frustrated the plan of the campaign."
It will be for the future historian to determine whether the order to General McDowell to move overland compelled General McClellan to take the Chickahominy route, and frustrated the plan of the campaign, or whether, on the other hand, he had not chosen the route, by moving from Williamsburg on the 10th, and establishing his head-quarters and depots at White House, and throwing out his cavalry and pickets to Bottom's Bridge on the Chickahominy on the 16th, two days before the orders were issued.
The Chickahominy River runs north of Richmond, flows southeast, and becomes an affluent of the James above Williamsburg. It is fringed with forests and bordered by marshy lands, which at high water become impassable swamps, but at low water the stream is fordable in many places. The Rebels destroyed all the bridges as they retreated to Richmond.
The army came to the river at Bottom's Bridge. The Eleventh Maine was in the advance. They were brave, hardy men, from the lumber-swamps of the Pine-Tree State. The Rebel pickets saw them, set the bridge on fire, and fled. The Maine men gave them a volley, rushed forward, used their caps for fire-buckets, and extinguished the flames, and with their axes soon had it repaired for the use of the army.
Heintzelman's and Keyes's corps crossed to the southern bank, while the other corps pushed up the northern bank, towards Coal Harbor and Mechanicsville.
Fourteen miles north of Richmond is Hanover Court-House. A Rebel force was stationed there, commanded by General Branch. On the 27th of May, General Fitz-John Porter, with Emory's brigade of cavalry, and Martindale's, Butterfield's, McQuade's, and Warren's brigades of infantry, proceeded to drive the Rebels from the place, and make a junction with McDowell. At noon General Emory, with the cavalry, came upon the enemy about two miles east of the Court-House, where the road forks,—the right hand road leading to the Court-House, the left hand to Ashland.
Berdan's sharpshooters and Martindale's brigade were near by, and General Porter formed in line of battle. The sharpshooters were thrown forward as skirmishers. Benson's battery came into position in a field on the right-hand side of the road, and commenced throwing shells over the heads of the sharpshooters.
The Rebels were posted on a hill near a farm-house,—their line reaching across both roads. General Martindale went up the Ashland road, driving in the skirmishers. The soldiers heard the whistle of a locomotive, and saw a train of cars upon the Virginia Central road bringing reinforcements to the Rebels. Captain Griffin's batteries were brought up, and a vigorous fire opened upon the railroad. The Twenty-second Massachusetts and Second Maine were thrown forward to the railroad. They tore up the track, and cut the telegraph-wire, under cover of the heavy fire of the artillery.
While this was transpiring on the Ashland road, there was a sharp contest on the road leading to Hanover. The Rebel infantry, concealed in the woods, opened a rapid fire upon the Twenty-fifth New York, which killed Lieutenant Fisk and wounded Lieutenant-Colonel Savage, and a number of the men. The Rebels sprang from the woods upon the regiment, and captured several prisoners. Colonel Johnson, commanding the regiment, fell back upon the reserve, which was coming into position in the rear, composed of the Seventeenth New York, Eighty-third Pennsylvania in the front line, and the Twelfth New York and Sixteenth Michigan in the second. They charged over the field, through the hollow, up the slope beyond, and came upon the Rebel batteries by the farm-house so rapidly, and with such force, that they captured a twelve-pound gun, which the enemy had not time to remove. The Rebels retreated towards the Court-House, followed by the cavalry, and all the artillery and infantry except Martindale's brigade. General Martindale sent two of his regiments up the railroad to join the main force at the Court-House, while he remained with the Second Maine, Twenty-fifth New York, a portion of the Forty-fourth New York, and two guns of Martin's battery.
While waiting and resting with this small force, after the exciting encounter of the afternoon, he was suddenly attacked by the Rebels, who greatly outnumbered him, and who by a surprise hoped to rout and defeat him, and cut off General Porter from the main command. But for more than an hour he held his ground, tillthe column which had gone to the Court-House turned back and rejoined him.
As soon as General Porter heard the firing, he moved the Thirteenth and Fourteenth New York and Griffin's batteries down the road upon the double-quick. The Ninth Massachusetts and Sixty-second Pennsylvania were sent through the woods, across the angle between the Hanover and Ashland roads, while the Eighty-third Pennsylvania and Sixteenth Michigan pushed down the railroad. The troops last named moved with great rapidity. They came suddenly upon the left flank of the enemy. The Rebels evidently were not expecting to be attacked from that quarter. They fled through the woods in great confusion. The cavalry rode among them, and hundreds threw down their arms and gave themselves up as prisoners.
General McClellan, in his Report, thus speaks of this gallant affair: "Some two hundred of the enemy's dead were buried by our troops, seven hundred and thirty prisoners sent to the rear, one twelve-pound howitzer, one caisson, a large number of small arms, and two railroad trains captured." The Union loss amounted to fifty-three killed and three hundred and forty-four wounded and missing.
The force encountered was General Branch's division of North Carolina and Georgia troops, numbering about nine thousand. Their camp at Hanover Court-House was taken and destroyed.
General Porter fell back to Coal Harbor. The engineers made a survey of the Chickahominy and of the approaches to Richmond, and began tobuild bridges across the stream and throw up earthworks.
The days were hot and sultry. There were heavy thunder-storms, succeeded by intense heat. The soldiers were provided with axes and shovels, and were set to work in the dark, miry swamps, working all day up to their waists in the muddy water. Disease in all its frightful forms of fever and dysentery made its appearance. The air was full of malaria. Hundreds died and thousands were sent to the hospitals.
One day a fine youth, who with ardor and enthusiasm had enlisted as a soldier, was brought into the hospital. He had been taken violently and suddenly with fever while in the marshes. The nurses laid him on a cot, gave him cold water, bathed his hot brows. He had a likeness of his mother, who had gone into the better land, and of his sister, who was far away in his pleasant home, in a gold locket on his neck. He dreamed and talked of home, and said, "I have a sister on my heart,—a sister on my heart,—a sister,—a sister."
The disease made rapid progress. The fever burned within,—a consuming flame which, before sunrise, had devoured all his young life. He was buried in the afternoon beneath the forest trees.
It was wearing work, the bridge-building, the construction of roads, and throwing up of intrenchments. Besides, there was the necessity of keeping close watch upon the enemy. If there were sad scenes, there were also amusing incidents.
A party of Maine boys, on picket, one day, sawa pair of wagon-wheels. Not far off were the Rebel pickets, in an open field. The Down-East Yankees thought they would have some fun. They mounted a log upon the wheels, brought the mock cannon into position. One of them pretended to sponge it, another put in the cartridge, a third primed, a fourth sighted it, while a fifth stood ready to fire. The Rebels watched the operation a moment, and then scampered for the woods to get under cover! The Maine boys did not fire, but had a merry chuckle among themselves, and a hearty laugh with their comrades when they told the story in camp.
Sevenmiles from Richmond, near the York River Railroad, there is a grove of oaks, so green, so beautiful and fair, that the railroad station has received the name of Fair Oaks. A highway from Richmond crosses the railroad near the station called the Nine-Mile Road. The railroad runs east and the Nine-Mile Road southeast. The highway from Richmond to Williamsburg runs parallel to the railroad about a mile south of it, and is crossed by the Nine-Mile Road, a mile southeast from Fair Oaks. At the junction of the two highways are seven pines, standing in a cluster on the south side of the Williamsburg road.
The country around is level and covered mainly by a dense forest, but there is cleared land along the Williamsburg road toward Richmond. On the 23d of May, General Keyes was ordered to advance to Fair Oaks and hold the position. General Couch's division was halted at Seven Pines, while Casey's was thrown forward to Fair Oaks, encamped on Baker's farm. General Keyes cut down the trees in front of his line beyond Fair Oaks to form an abattis. They were also felled in front of Couch.
On Friday night, the 30th of May, there was a terrific thunder-storm. The heavens were sheets of flame, and the clouds poured torrents of water which deluged the country and flooded the Chickahominy.
Early in the morning on Saturday, the 31st, it was whispered in the Rebel camp that General Johnston was going to attack the Yankees who were South of the Chickahominy.22
"In such weather?" it was asked.
"The bridges are washed away, and it is impossible for McClellan to send over his right and center to the assistance of his left. His army is divided, and we can crush the force on the south side before he can reinforce it," was the answer.
General Huger's division moved out from Richmond at six o'clock, taking the Charles City road, which is south of the Williamsburg road, and which runs south of White-Oak Swamp. He was to make a long and rapid march east, then turn north, cross the Swamp, gain the rear of GeneralCouch, and cut off his retreat to Bottom's Bridge. He was to reach his position and begin the attack at eight o'clock. General Longstreet's division moved down the Williamsburg road and halted in the woods. General Whiting moved down the Nine-Mile Road and halted in the woods in front of Fair Oaks.
President Davis and his Cabinet went out with Longstreet to see the fight. Eight o'clock—nine o'clock—ten—passed, and there was no sound of Huger's guns. He was toiling in the mud, moving at a snail's pace. Longstreet and Whiting were impatiently waiting, concealed from observation in the woods.
At ten o'clock, General Keyes's pickets captured an aide of General Johnston in the edge of the woods. He was brought before General Keyes. While the General was talking with him, two musket-shots were fired in the woods, which produced an emotion in the young officer so marked that it was noticed by General Keyes, who feared that something might be going on in his front, and who immediately issued orders for his troops to be under arms.
Eleven o'clock came, and General Longstreet, getting out of patience at Huger's delay, ordered his troops to advance and begin the attack. His skirmishers went through the woods quickly, and came upon Casey's skirmishers on the Williamsburg road, and the firing began. But his regiments were slow in getting on. His artillery sank in the mud.
The rapid increase of the fire along the picket line alarmed General Keyes, who made quick preparations for whatever might happen.
Battle of Fair Oaks.23Union Troops.1 Casey's division.2 Couch's "3 Heintzelman's corps.4 Sumner's "8 Fair Oaks.Rebel Troops.5 Whiting.6 Longstreet.7 Anderson.9 Seven Pines.
Battle of Fair Oaks.23
Union Troops.
1 Casey's division.
2 Couch's "
3 Heintzelman's corps.
4 Sumner's "
8 Fair Oaks.
Rebel Troops.
5 Whiting.
6 Longstreet.
7 Anderson.
9 Seven Pines.
Casey's division faced towards Richmond; Naglee's brigade was on the railroad,—two regiments north of it; Wessell's brigade was in the center, near "Fair Oaks," and Palmer's was on the left, south of the Williamsburg road. Spratt's battery was near the Oaks. Regan's battery was in rear of Spratt's. Bates's battery was south of the Williamsburg road, in a redoubt, while Fitch'sbattery was in rear of the redoubt. Couch's division at Seven Pines was lying with Graham's brigade between the Williamsburg road and the railroad, Devens's brigade on the Williamsburg road, and Peck's brigade on the left.
Up to twelve o'clock there was little firing except by the pickets, and the men in Casey's command laid aside their arms and prepared to eat dinner. Soon after noon two shells were thrown into Casey's camp.
Suddenly there was a heavy roll of musketry in the woods. Officers sprang to their feet. They knew that it portended trouble. There was a quick saddling of horses and buckling on of belts. Orders were issued in imperious tones.
The men left their coffee-pots and plates of rice, seized their guns, and formed in line.
Casey's division was composed of undisciplined troops which had joined the army after its arrival upon the Peninsula. The men had had no experience, and yet they were placed in advance, nearest the enemy,—an oversight which was dearly paid for.
The force which Johnston had brought out numbered not far from thirty thousand. Casey's division numbered not far from seven thousand. Like an avalanche was the advance of the Rebels upon this small, undisciplined force. Generals Anderson, D. H. Hill, Jenkins, Pegram, and Wilcox swept along the Williamsburg road, striking Palmer's brigade on the left flank.
General Casey's pickets were but a short distance from camp, and they came streaming back in confusion, followed by the Rebels in masses. General Keyes saw that it was no feint, but anattack by an overwhelming force. He despatched a messenger to General Heintzelman, who was behind him towards Bottom's Bridge, for reinforcements. The firing became quick and heavy. General Sumner, three miles distant across the Chickahominy, heard it, and ordered his command under arms. The aide sent to Heintzelman lost his way in the woods, and was a long while in bearing the important message. Keyes saw that there was danger on Casey's left, south of the Williamsburg road, where the Rebels were appearing in great force, and he ordered Peck's brigade of Couch's division to advance and support Palmer. Spratt's battery, near Fair Oaks, opened upon the Rebels as they came through the woods on the right, supported by the Eleventh Maine, One Hundredth New York, One Hundred and Fourth Pennsylvania, and Ninety-Second New York.
In the center, the One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania was sent forward to sustain the pickets, but quickly returned in confusion.
The Rebel lines came into the open field, following the retreating pickets. All of Casey's guns opened with canister, and the fire was so severe that General Hill ordered his men to lie down, as it was impossible to advance in the face of such a storm.24General Hill dismounted from his horse, and criticised the fire of the different batteries. Longstreet's line was more than a mile in extent, and yet Huger and Whiting had not fired a cartridge. The fire was so terrible from the batteries, and from Palmer's, Wessell's,and Naglee's lines, that Longstreet changed his plan of attack, and, instead of advancing directly upon the center, attacked on both flanks. Some of his regiments filed towards the south, and crept through the bushes unseen by Casey. The others moved north, some in front of Naglee, and prepared to charge upon Spratt's battery. General Casey saw the plan. He rode along the line, called upon three of Naglee's regiments to drive the enemy into the woods. There was a rail-fence between the combatants, but the troops sprang over it with a cheer, formed in line, and fought the enemy face to face. The battle raged with great fury around the Oaks.
The enemy was held in check a few minutes by the three regiments, but, being superior, advanced once more, firing as they came on. Naglee held his ground till the fighting was at close quarters,—till some of the Eleventh Maine were bayoneted. The order to retreat was given, and the lines fell back, followed closely by the enemy, who made a rush for Spratt's battery, and captured one of the guns.
Elated, the Rebels halted to reform their lines, before pushing on to other successes. But while re-forming, Bates and Fitch opened wide gaps in their ranks at every discharge of grape and canister. Once more they came on, shouting and screaming, and delivering their volleys and receiving the steady fire streaming from the rifles of Naglee's line, reinforced now by a regiment from General Peck's brigade of Couch's division.
Their line of march is from southwest to northeast. They come upon the left of Naglee'sposition, curling round his flank, and pouring a cross fire into the rifle-pits. Colonel Bailey, Major Van Valkenburg, and Adjutant Ramsey of the artillery are killed, other officers are wounded. The advancing host leap over the slight earthworks, seize the guns, and prepare to turn them upon the backs of the men on Naglee's right. It is no use to contend for the ground or the guns against the superior force, and the men fall back once more. Casey's whole line also retreats to that held by General Couch.
Up to this moment, Longstreet's grand division only has been engaged; but two regiments of General Couch's division, who are moving up the railroad to support Naglee, see across the field beyond the Fair Oaks long lines of men,—some standing in battle line, and others advancing in column along the railroad. It is Whiting, who is deploying his forces from the Nine-Mile Road.
General Couch is made acquainted with the fact. He sends for the other two regiments of the brigade. Whiting pours his troops into the gap between Naglee and Couch, and cuts off the four regiments from the troops at Seven Pines.
The regiments thus isolated are thrown back towards Grape-Vine Bridge.
While this is transpiring on the right, there is disaster in the center, and on the left. The Rebels there are pushing on. Keyes rallies his troops. He sends forward regiment after regiment from his second line, to strengthen that in front, to hold his ground if possible, but it is growing thin. It sways to and fro, and breaks at last. It crumbles, piecemeal,—the troopshastening towards the Seven Pines. He has one regiment still in reserve,—the Tenth Massachusetts.
He throws it into the broken gap. It requires nerve and muscle to march in where all are fleeing,—to be a breakwaterwhere the flood sweeps all before it. But the regiment goes in as cheerfully as to a dress-parade. They deliver their volleys with deliberate aim. They hold their ground.
Three hundred yards in the rear, Heintzelman, Keyes, Casey, Naglee, and other officers are rallying the men. Fugitives are stopped, regiments which have been so stubbornly contesting the ground are induced to try it once more.
"Had that regiment been two minutes later," says General Keyes, "they would have been too late to occupy that fine position, and it would have been impossible to have formed the next and last line of battle, which stemmed the tide of defeat and turned it toward a victory."25
Thus far the Rebels have had it all their own way. Casey has been driven a mile. His camp is in the hands of Longstreet. He has lost many guns. Longstreet has made so good a beginning that, although Huger has not made his appearance from the South, the prospect is good for overwhelming the Union force on the southern bank.
But other actors arrive upon the ground,—the men who tossed their knapsacks into the woods at Williamsburg,—who became a wall of adamant on that memorable field. Berry and Jameson march up the Williamsburg road and move out upon the left of the line forming behind the Tenth Massachusetts. Berry pushes down into the border of the swamp; Jameson sends one regiment to Peck and one to Birney, and moves straight on towards the abattis of fallen trees in front of Couch's line along the Williamsburg road with his two remaining regiments. His men lie down behind the fallen trees and pour their volleys into the advancing foe, moving on in stately grandeur. Jameson, unmindful of the storm around him, rides up and down the line, exposed to the fire of the enemy, not a hundred yards distant. Sheltered by the abattis, his two regiments are immovable. Like a hillock in the path of an avalanche, they turn the overwhelming force aside. It flows round them, right and left, but does not advance along the road.
Berry, far down in the woods towards White Oak Swamp, is pouring a terrible fire upon the masses, who still press toward Seven Pines. He holds them in check, repulsing all the assaults. There, in the thickest of the fight, is that young officer who made his last will and testament at Yorktown,—the "hero of the day" at Williamsburg,—animating the troops by his fearless daring, and there he gives his life to his country, shot through the brain.
In the rear of Seven Pines is the hospital, full of weak and sickly men, prostrated by fevers. They hear the tide of battle rolling nearer hour by hour. A soldier from the front says that the line is giving way and the Rebels are sweeping all before them. The words fall on the ears of Lieutenant Rice, of the Eleventh Maine. Hesprings to his feet, and grasps a gun. "All of you who can hold up your heads, follow me!" he shouts.26Men who have not been able to stand upon their feet spring up at the word. They are pale, sallow, emaciated, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. They form in line, twenty of them, seize their muskets. The fever is consuming them, but there is a warmer flame within their breasts,—the unquenchable desire to save their comrades from defeat and their country from destruction. Lieutenant Rice leads the weak and tottering party to the front. He moves on close to the enemy. He is one of the best marksmen of his regiment, and soldier after soldier falls from the ranks of the enemy by his unerring aim. He fires seven times, and then goes down before the bullets of the foe.
There is Willie Parker of the Eleventh Maine, a mere boy, who beholds the Rebel colors advancing from the woods, borne by a stalwart soldier.
"That flag must come down!" he says, as he raises his gun. There is a flash, a screaming in the air, as the swiftly-whirling bullet passes on. The color-bearer reels, staggers, and falls.
There is Sergeant Katon, the standard-bearer of the Eleventh, holding up, as high as he can reach, the broken flag-staff, while kneeling beside the dead body of Corporal Maddocks, who has fallen while guarding the torn and tattered but precious standard,—all this while the tempest surges around them, over them, through them; the very blast of death!
An officer with one hundred men, who has been out on picket, comes up the road.
"Where is my regiment?" he asks of the grim and veteran Heintzelman.
"I cannot tell you, sir."
"But I would like to join it."
"Very well, but if it is fighting you want, just go in, Colonel, for there is good fighting all along the line."
The battle rages furiously. Five o'clock—six o'clock—half past six—Berry holds them by the swamp, Jameson holds them with his three hundred men on the Williamsburg road; but between Seven Pines and Fair Oaks the tide is drifting on.
Jameson resolves to advance. The Rebels in front of him fall back along the road to Richmond. Thus, while Whiting is pushing east over the Nine-Mile Road, Jameson is marching west towards the Rebel capital, driving all before him.
"Fall back" is the imperative order which he receives. He would a great deal rather go on.
"What would you have done, if you had not been ordered back?" a friend asked.
"I would have been in Richmond or in Heaven before night," was the reply.27
But he obeys orders. Yet he cannot go back the way he advanced; the enemy is between him and Seven Pines. He faces south, picks his way through White Oak Swamp, comes round to Seven Pines, and again confronts the enemy.
The day is closing. Darkness is coming on. The Yankees are not yet swept into the Chickahominy. Longstreet has had success, but it isnot a great victory. The Union line has been pushed back a mile and a half. It has been broken,—almost disorganized. Berry's brigade is as firm and solid as ever. Jameson's has been divided and sent to different parts of the field. Casey's division has crumbled. Couch's has been broken. A great crowd of stragglers is moving towards Bottom's Bridge. Couch with two regiments and a battery have been pushed north towards Grape Vine Bridge. Such is the position at seven o'clock, as Whiting, fresh and vigorous, brings his brigade down the railroad to finish the work of this day.
But now there is another actor,—General Sumner, who has crossed the Chickahominy at Grape-Vine Bridge, and is pushing on with Sedgwick's gallant division.
General Sumner ordered his corps to be under arms at one o'clock. As the firing grew loud, he moved his troops to the Chickahominy and waited for orders to cross. He commenced crossing at three o'clock, but the swamp was flooded, and it was only by great exertion and perseverance that he was able to get Kirby's battery to the south bank.
Gorman's brigade led the column, composed of the First Minnesota, Fifteenth Massachusetts, Second New York Volunteers, and Thirty-Fourth New York,—Gorman joined General Couch. Kirby, with his six Napoleon guns, followed, and Dana's brigade closed the column, composed of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, Seventh Michigan, and Forty-Second New York. General Sumner rapidly formed his line, facing south. Whiting, up to this time, had been pressing straight on towards the Seven Pines. He turned to crush this new force which had appeared unexpectedly on his flank.
It is a cloudy night and darkness is stealing on, as the Rebels change their front and move towards the north to sweep all before them. They advance across the field and through the woods, delivering a rapid fire. Suddenly there bursts a sheet of flame from Sumner's ranks.
The Rebels fall back, rally their broken lines, advance again, nearer and with desperation. "Canister! Canister! Give them canister!" is Kirby's order as he moves from gun to gun. The battle-cloud grows thick beneath the heavy vapors rising from the swamp. Quick, incessant flashes momentarily light up the deepening darkness. It is not possible for men to face so terrible a storm. Vain are all the efforts of the Rebel officers to rally their bleeding ranks.
Sumner has stood his ground. The time has come to advance. The Thirty-Fourth and Forty-Second New York, Fifteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, and Seventh Michigan move forward.
There are two fences in front of them, and beyond the farthest one is the Rebel line waiting their advance. The soldiers know that it will be the last march of many, but with a cheer heard above the roar of battle, they rush into the darkness, dash the fences under foot, and spring upon the enemy's lines. It is the work of a minute. One short struggle, a volley, a holding of the breath, muttered curses, shouts, groans, a clashing of bayonets, the trampling of ten thousand feet, and the field is clear of the enemy!
General Johnston has failed in what he intended to accomplish. He is borne from the field at this hour, wounded by a shell from Kirby's battery.
"As I rode down through the field," says a Rebel officer, "I met Franks, one of Longstreet's aides, looking as blue as indigo. What is the matter, Franks? Not satisfied with the day's work?" I inquired.
"Satisfied be hanged! I saw old Jeff, Mallory, Longstreet, and Whiting, and all of them, looking as mad as thunder. Just to think that Huger's slowness has spoiled everything! There he has been on our right all day and hasn't fired a shot, although he had positive orders to open the fight at eight o'clock in the morning."28
There are indescribable scenes of horror after a great battle,—the removal of the wounded, bleeding, dying, giving utterances to groans extorted by the intense pain,—the work at the hospitals, where the disabled, one by one, are laid before the surgeons. Yet, amid their terrible sufferings, the men are often cheerful, and hopeful for this life and the life which is to come.
A chaplain says: "Amongst the badly wounded was Joseph Bynon of Alleghany City, Pennsylvania, a young man of the most generous nature, universally popular in his regiment, and the staff of a widowed mother. He was lying on a blanket near the house, wounded in the bowels. I asked him about his sufferings. He replied, that he did not suffer much, that he was faint from the loss of blood as he supposed. I saw from his pulse that he had but a few moments to live, and said to him,
"'Joseph, are you willing and ready to die? I am afraid you cannot live.'
"'Well, doctor,' he whispered, 'I should like to live; I love my mother; this will be a great sorrow to her. And I should like to do something for my little nephew and niece. But there is another life, and I know I shall find mother there. I feel I have been a great sinner; in many things I have done wrong; but ever since my conversion I experienced in Camp Johnson, I have tried to follow my Saviour, and now I die trusting. My mind wanders; I find it difficult to think and speak. In praying to God, I may not say the things that are right; do, doctor, lift up my hands and clasp them together, and pray for me!'
"I lifted up the hands crimsoned with his own blood, and pressing them in mine, commended him to the Merciful One, who for us all had suffered the bitterness of death. He repeated word for word, prayed for his mother, and then said, 'O Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world, take away my sin; into Thine hand I commend my spirit!'
"The storm of battle raged again. The enemy's shells burst around the hospital, and the wounded were removed. He was lifted into an ambulance, but died before it reached Savage Station. Thus giving his life to his country, he passed on into the service of his God."29
At daybreak on Sunday morning, an orderly belonging to the Rebel army rode out of the woods into the Union lines.
"Where is General Anderson," he asked.
"Here he is. What do you want of him?" said a colonel.
"I have a despatch for him from General Pryor."
"I will take it. Soldiers, guard this man. You are my prisoner."
The orderly was much astonished to find himself a prisoner. The despatch gave information of the disposition of the Rebel forces for the battle soon to recommence.
During the night the balance of Sumner's corps crossed the Chickahominy, and at daybreak the troops, thus strengthened, were able to renew the battle. Sedgwick remained where he fought on Saturday. Richardson's division was next on his right. He formed in two lines,—with French's brigade in front on the railroad, and Howard and Meagher in the second line in his rear. Kearney, Couch, and Hooker, with the remnants of Casey's division, were in the vicinity of Seven Pines.
It would require many pages to give in detail the fight of Sunday morning. It must be given as a picture.
It began at five o'clock. At that hour, the Rebels are discovered south of the railroad in the woods in front of Richardson. Pettit opens with shells, and the stillness of the Sabbath is broken by deep reverberations rolling along the Chickahominy. There is a gap between Richardson and Kearney. Richardson moves toward Seven Pines to close it. From the woods where Pettit drops his shells, there is a volley—another—another—and the men drop from Richardson's ranks. The Rebels advance and attack French's brigade at short range. For an hour the menstand in their places, and deliver their fire upon the columns which are pushed against them. Reinforcements come up from Longstreet's reserves. Howard is brought up from the second line to meet them. His horse is shot. He is twice wounded in the right arm, and is forced to leave the field. His arm is shattered, and the surgeon says it must come off. He meets Kearney, who lost his left arm years ago.
"We will buy our gloves together, Kearney," is the salutation of this Christian soldier and patriot.
But the onset of his brigade is magnificent. The rebel line is shattered by the resistless charge.
Hooker comes up the railroad. He falls like a thunderbolt upon the enemy in front, breaking, dividing, shattering them. They flee in confusion. Sickles is advancing along the Williamsburg road, Berry and Jameson are moving over the ground of Saturday between the Seven Pines and White-Oak Swamp. Richardson and Sedgwick are also in motion. From Fair Oaks to the swamp south of Seven Pines, the Union line advances over the bloody field. It is like the swinging of a wide gate, with its hinges near Fair Oaks, and reaching past Seven Pines to the swamp.
It is a triumphant march. The Rebels have failed in what they attempted, and are fleeing with broken, demoralized ranks to Richmond. Hats, caps, blankets, knapsacks, guns, all are thrown aside. The road is filled with the fleeing fugitives. Heintzelman and Sumner press on within four miles of the city. No troops oppose them.
"I have no doubt but we might have gone rightinto Richmond," says General Heintzelman.30—"I think that if the army had pressed after the enemy with great vigor, we should have gone to Richmond," is the opinion of General Keyes.31
"They (the Federals) missed an opportunity of striking a decisive blow. These opportunities never returned," writes Prince de Joinville of France.32
General McClellan recalled the troops from their pursuit, and established his lines as they were on the morning of Saturday.
The loss on the Union side was 5,737. The Rebel loss, as reported in Smith's, Longstreet's, and Hill's divisions, was 6,783. Whiting's division also suffered severely, so that the entire Rebel loss was about 8,000.
A month passed by. General McClellan was preparing for a siege. There were six bridges built across the Chickahominy, which required labor day and night. The men were obliged to work up to their arms in the water. Miles of corduroy roads were constructed. The ground was so swampy and marshy that nothing could be done by horses. All the timber hauled to construct the bridges and the batteries was drawn by the men. The month of June was rainy. There were frequent storms, succeeded by hot sunshine. Sickness, in all its frightful forms, made its appearance. The men became discouraged. It was expected, day after day, that the attack would commence; but the commanding officers issued orders that no batteries should open till all were ready. The army, meanwhile,began to be depleted of troops. Thousands were sent to the hospitals, and other thousands were carried out to their last resting-place, on the banks of the dark, dismal, sluggish stream, which soon became the river of death.
Reinforcements were called for and received: McCall's division of Pennsylvania Reserves, which reached the army on the 12th and 13th of June.
On the night of the 13th, General Stewart, with 1,800 Rebel cavalry, appeared in rear of the army. He came first upon two squadrons of Regular cavalry, at Hanover Old Church, overpowering and capturing them; then pushed on to Gorlick's Landing, on the Pamunkey, burning two schooners and fourteen wagons; then moved to the railroad at Tunstall's Station.
The train first arriving was one going east with sick and wounded men. The engineer saw the cavalrymen on the track as he rounded a curve. They motioned him to stop, but he put on more steam, and the train rushed past with lightning speed. Hundreds of bullets were aimed at him, but he escaped unharmed.
General Stewart crossed the Chickahominy at Long Bridge, below Bottom's Bridge, and came upon a Union hospital at Baltimore Cross Roads. He placed a guard over the hospital, and treated the sick men humanely. But the fright was very disastrous to many who found themselves thus suddenly in the hands of the enemy. Several died during the night. In the pockets of one Union soldier, after death, the chaplain found some touching and beautiful letters from a little brother and sister, telling him how much they missed him, how they longed for his return, howthey counted the days until he might come back, but above all telling how proud they were of their soldier brother. And they never heard a drum beat nor a fife play without thinking of him, and feeling glad that they had one noble brother to fight for their country.33