Orders to march—A grand spectacle—Bivouac near Fairfax Court House—The camps at night—Visits to Manassas and Centreville—Dissatisfaction in the army—A deserted country—Lawless soldiers—Fairfax Court House—A representative Southerner—Review by Gen. McClellan—March to Alexandria—"Camp Misery."
Orders to march—A grand spectacle—Bivouac near Fairfax Court House—The camps at night—Visits to Manassas and Centreville—Dissatisfaction in the army—A deserted country—Lawless soldiers—Fairfax Court House—A representative Southerner—Review by Gen. McClellan—March to Alexandria—"Camp Misery."
The first week in March brought lovely weather: birds sang more sweetly, the sun shone more brightly, and bands played more merrily than usual, and friends passed from regiment to regiment seeking social pastime with friends.
We had known no such pleasant times in camp; still we were waiting for orders to advance. During the night of Sunday, the 8th of March, the order came: "This division will move at four o'clock in the morning with two days' rations in haversacks." Little rest we got that night; the hammer and the axe were plied vigorously in tearing down quarters and packing stores, and as the sun rose in the morning the whole army was in motion. It was a sublime spectacle: that immense line of troops pouring along hour after hour, stretching over the hills as far as the eye could reach; a hundred and twenty thousand troops on the move! Just beyond and above them, in the gray sky of the morning, hung a beautiful rainbow. At six our division commenced to march. Rain soon began to fall, and continued all day. We passed through Vienna and Lewinsville, each a hamlet of a dozen houses, and reached our camping ground at five o'clock in the afternoon, tired, and drenched, and hungry.
Great numbers of troops had already occupied the fields, and the whole country seemed alive with men and horses, artillery and wagons. We were in the vicinity of Fairfax Court House, about a mile to the northward, on what was called Flint Hill.
The army, for the first time, was under "tentes d'abri," or, as they are now called, shelter tents. Until now the enlisted men had occupied the spacious Sibley, or the comfortable wedge tents, and all officers were quartered in wall tents; now, line officers and enlisted men were to occupy shelter tents, which they were to carry on their shoulders; and although a small number of wall tents could be carried in the wagons for field and staff officers, yet so imperfect was the understanding, in or out of the quartermaster's department, of what could or ought to be done, that most regimental field and staff officers were left without any shelter at all.
The men proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as possible under their novel coverings, and as evening approached, the hills were magnificently illuminated with thousands of camp fires. Very few men occupied their new tents that night. They had not been accustomed to lie upon wet ground, with only a single blanket wrapped about them, so during all the night groups of soldiers stood about the camp fires, talking in low tones and wondering what was to happen in the morning. The sky was clear and bright when the sun rose, and as we looked out upon the hill tops, dotted with clean white tents, and bristling with stacks of shining muskets, we exulted in the thought that we were part of the Grand Army that was now at work. Soon we knew that we were not to fight here. The cavalry, and some of Porter's division, were returning from Manassas and Centreville, both places burned and deserted. Were we to pursue the retreating army, or were we to return to Washington to take a newstart? Parties from the division rode to Centreville and Manassas. The works were indeed formidable and the barracks extensive; and the old chestnut logs with blackened ends, that were mounted in some of the embrasures, had, at a distance, grim visages. The smoking ruins betokened the destructiveness of war. On the old battle-field lay bleaching the bones of horses and men, and here and there might be seen portions of human skeletons protruding from the shallow graves where some pretense had been made at burial. Fragments of shells, broken muskets and solid shot strewed the ground.
Head-quarters of the army were established at Fairfax Court House, and thither repaired the corps commanders to hold a council in regard to our future movements. The country about our camp was rolling and sparsely settled. Nearly all the houses were deserted, and most of them destroyed so far as any future usefulness was concerned. One house, the ruins of which stood not far from our camp, and which had been the most comfortable place in the whole section of country, had been the residence of a northern farmer. Although the house was completely stripped, and nothing of the barns and outhouses remained but the frames, yet there were many evidences of the thrift and comfort of the former occupant. A northern reaper, several horse rakes, ploughs of improved patterns, and other modern implements of agriculture, betokened a genuine farmer. We were told that he was driven from his home early in the war, and had now found refuge among his friends in New Hampshire. But the houses of the southerners had not been exempt from the general devastation, and some who had sought refuge in Richmond had left their homes to ruin. The people were evidently strongly "secesh," although some of them professed to be glad to see us.
It cannot be said that the presence of our army affordedthem great protection, for the men, unused to the strict discipline which afterward prevailed, coolly appropriated whatever articles seemed to them to be of use either for the present or the future. It was amusing to see the soldiers of some of the divisions in which less than the usual discipline prevailed, peering and creeping about wherever there seemed a prospect of plunder. Now one would pass with a pair of chickens; next, one bringing a clothes line; then one with part of an old table, and still another with half a dozen eggs. This system of plunder was at length checked, in a measure at least. Fowls, eggs and potatoes could be purchased of the people at fair rates, while rebel currency could be bought for silver at a very considerable discount. Twenty-five cent and one cent shinplasters were brought into camp and laughed at by men who were afterward glad to get shinplasters from another manufactory.
To Fairfax Court House was but a short distance; and a ride to the village afforded a pleasant gallop of a morning. The place, and the country half a mile on each side, was occupied by McCall's division. The village was pleasantly located on high ground, surrounded by fine groves. It contained some pretty residences, which were occupied by officers as head-quarters: their horses, in some instances, being picketed on the porticos, and in others in the kitchens. The village was nearly deserted by its own people, not more than fifty of the original inhabitants being left, though the population of the town before the war was nearly six hundred. Houses which were deserted were generally stripped of everything. The court house was a solid old brick building of very limited dimensions, with a little bell swinging in a comical looking steeple. The court house was by no means an exception to the general rule of destruction; the seats were torn out, and the judge's bench had been split in pieces, and nearly all carried away by pockets full, as relics. At one of thehouses where the family still remained, a party reined up and made some inquiries of thepater familias, a hangdog looking specimen, with an old slouched hat covered to the crown with rusty crape, a mark of second-hand gentility in these parts. He said that "this yer war" had caused such a famine among the people, that nearly all of them had been obliged to leave; some had gone to Washington and some to Richmond, "a right smart lot of them had gone to Richmond." He had "reckoned onct or twict" that he would have to go too, but he "had succeeded in hanging on so long."
Our division was reviewed by General McClellan, who was received with enthusiasm. Although many of us were familiar with the appearance of the Commander-in-Chief, this was his first appearance to us as a division. The General appeared a man below the medium height, with broad shoulders, full chest and a round pleasing face relieved by a heavy moustache. He sat his horse well and rode with great speed. While his appearance and address were pleasing, there seemed in his smooth face and mild eye nothing to indicate a man of brilliant genius or great purpose.
At length the council of corps commanders had rendered its decision, and the grand campaign of the Virginian Peninsula was planned. On the morning of the fourteenth of March, with buoyant hopes and exulting anticipations of a "quick, sharp and decisive," and as we devoutly believed, a successful campaign, we left our camp at Flint Hill. It had few charms for us, and we were glad to leave it. How little we yet knew of real campaigning. Although we had notice several hours beforehand that we were to move by daylight, yet many, indeed, the majority of us, marched that morning without breakfast.
No morning sun cheered us as the day began, but the sky was hung with heavy clouds. A drizzling rain, nowdiminishing almost to a heavy mist, and now coming in fresh showers, made the marching heavy and unpleasant. Grandly appeared that majestic army as it filed down the turnpike to Alexandria. At times the elevation of the road afforded a view of the mighty column for miles to the front, and at other times we could see it pouring onward an endless stream of cavalry, infantry, artillery and wagons, far from the rear.
So grand a spectacle had never been witnessed on this continent before. Our march was rapid and we made no halt for dinner: those who went without breakfast had poor chance for coffee that day.
Towards evening the rain increased, and as we drew off into a piece of woods five miles out from Alexandria, the rain came down in sheets. Near our halting place were some deserted houses. No sooner had we stopped than began the work of destruction, afterward so familiar to us, and in less than an hour there was not a board or timber left of either building. The ground, although quite uneven and sloping, soon became so flooded that tents, even when they could be pitched, were untenable. The men attempted to build fires, but in most instances the floods of water quenched the flames. Some, however, succeeded in starting huge fires, and around these stood the men during the whole night, while the tempest poured in torrents upon them. A few of the officers of the division, among whom was one who afterward became noted for looking out for and providing good things for his regiment as quartermaster, sought refuge in a house not far off, where, for the moderate sum of twenty-five cents each, they were allowed by the people sleeping room upon the floor. Never since the times of Pharaoh was an army so thoroughly drenched. During more than three years campaigning in the field our boys never forgot that night; and to this day they frequently refer to the disagreeableexperience in what they not inappropriately term "Camp Misery." Here, in "Camp Misery," we remained several days, waiting to embark for Fortress Monroe.
Without doubt, the rebels all this time knew of our destination; for the people among whom we were encamped were by no means our friends or indifferent to the success of the rebels, and the point of our destination was well known and freely spoken of among them.
Embarking for the Peninsula—Mount Vernon—On the Potomac—Hampton—In camp—Orders to march—A night visit to Fortress Monroe—The advance—A sifting—A Quaker battery—At Newport News—Compliments of the Teaser.
Embarking for the Peninsula—Mount Vernon—On the Potomac—Hampton—In camp—Orders to march—A night visit to Fortress Monroe—The advance—A sifting—A Quaker battery—At Newport News—Compliments of the Teaser.
On Sunday morning, March 23d, we marched to Alexandria. The whole of our division, and of the other divisions of Keyes' corps, were there, besides part of Heintzelman's corps and other troops. In the course of the afternoon, this great body of men was embarked upon the transports. The vessels having received their lading, swung out upon the river and laid at anchor during the night. Early in the morning the whole fleet was under way, steaming down the river. We passed Mount Vernon—the bells of the fleet tolling. The tomb lies in the midst of a clump of firs just south and a little below the house; the mansion and the grounds are nearly as they were left by Washington, and the whole looks down upon the river, calling upon the passer-by for a thought upon the great man whose dust lies beneath the fir trees. After passing Mount Vernon, nothing of special interest was seen except the broad expanse of waters of this magnificent stream. A few large mansions, a few inferior houses, and now and then a little hamlet, appeared on the banks; and at Aquia creek could be seen the insignificant earthworks that had covered the few field pieces which for so many months had kept up an efficient blockade of the Potomac.
How different was all this from our Hudson! The country bordering on the river is beautiful; nature hasdone everything for it, but a cursed institution has blighted it. There is not a country in the world where nature has been more lavish with its blessings, and yet it is forsaken, worn out, almost a wilderness. The magnificent rivers and unsurpassed harbors of Virginia, its natural fertility and the mildness of its climate, present natural advantages scarcely equaled by any country. As we stood upon the deck of the steamer, watching and admiring the ever-varying beauties of the noble stream, some one repeated these lines from Barlow'sColumbiad:
"Thy capes, Virginia, towering from the tide,Raise their blue banks, and slope thy barriers wide,To future sails unfold a fluvian way,And guard secure thy multifluvian bay,That drains uncounted realms and here unitesThe liquid mass from Alleganian hights.York leads his way embanked in flowery pride,And noble James falls winding by his side;Back to the hills, through many a silent vale,Wild Rappahannock seems to lure the sail;Patapsco's bosom courts the hand of toil;Dull Susquehanna laves a length of soil;But mightier far, in sea-like azure spread,Potowmac sweeps his earth disparting bed."
"Thy capes, Virginia, towering from the tide,Raise their blue banks, and slope thy barriers wide,To future sails unfold a fluvian way,And guard secure thy multifluvian bay,That drains uncounted realms and here unitesThe liquid mass from Alleganian hights.York leads his way embanked in flowery pride,And noble James falls winding by his side;Back to the hills, through many a silent vale,Wild Rappahannock seems to lure the sail;Patapsco's bosom courts the hand of toil;Dull Susquehanna laves a length of soil;But mightier far, in sea-like azure spread,Potowmac sweeps his earth disparting bed."
At night we were on the broad Chesapeake. A stiff breeze set our fleet rocking, but we slept quietly, leaving the waves to take care of themselves and the pilots to take care of the boats. Reveille awoke us in the morning to discover on the one side of us the world-renowned Fortress Monroe and on the other the equally famous Monitor. At our bow lay the village of Hampton—or rather the chimneys and trees of what had been Hampton. Orders came for us to disembark here, and we were soon among the debris of the town. A sadder commentary on war could hardly be found than the ruins of this beautiful village. A forest of shade trees and chimneys marked the place where a few months before had stood one of the most ancient villages in America. Hyacinths and daffodils,peach trees and roses, were in bloom in the deserted and fenceless gardens; and the dark green leaves of the japonica and laurel covered many a heap of unsightly rubbish.
The walls of the old church, the most ancient in the State, stood like silent witnesses against the reckless spirit of destruction of the rebels. Although not large, the church had evidently been a fine old structure, having the form of a Greek cross. About it were the graves of the forefathers of the village, reposing under the shadow of those old trees. Many of the tablets were ancient, dating back as far as 1706.
The Old Church at Hampton
The whole army was pouring out upon this shore, and at Fortress Monroe. Dense masses of infantry, long trains of artillery and thousands of cavalry, with unnumbered army wagons and mules, were mingled in grand confusion along the shore; the neighing of horses, the braying of mules, the rattle of wagons and artillery, andthe sound of many voices, mingled in one grand inharmonious concert.
Our division marched along a pleasant route to a field about midway between Fortress Monroe and Newport News. We rested until March 26th, when an order came at midnight for the army to march very early in the morning. We were short of some medical stores and quartermasters' supplies, and officers at once mounted their horses to ride through the thick darkness to Fortress Monroe, to procure the needed articles. Along the road men were already cooking their breakfasts, and artillery was hurrying towards Newport News. At short intervals along the road, sentinels were posted; and as the sounds of the horses' hoofs were heard, the sharp command rung out through the darkness, "Halt! who comes there?" and the galloping horses would suddenly halt at long distance from the sentry.
"Friends with the countersign."
"Dismount and advance one; and give the countersign."
One of the parties, leaving his horse with the other, would advance and give the required word, and on we rode again until suddenly halted by a similar warning. As we approached the fortress, the sentinels were more frequent, until, as we came within half a mile of our destination, the guards were posted so frequently that we had hardly passed one, before the sharp command to "Halt!" was heard again. We crossed the drawbridge, and at length found ourselves in the little village in rear of the fort. Passing here many sentinels who examined us very carefully, we reached the door of the citadel. Here we were halted by a sentinel, and each examined for the countersign. The sentinel called the corporal of the guard; who after satisfying himself that we were Union officers shouted to the sergeant. The great iron door groundupon its massive hinges as it swung open just far enough to permit the sergeant to squeeze through, and again it was closed, and the heavy bolts rung as they flew back to their places. The sergeant, after asking a few questions, went back into the fort, and soon returned with the officer of the guard, who, after receiving the countersign, questioned us closely as to our business, and who we were. Satisfied, at length he ordered a soldier to take our horses, the heavy door slowly opened, and we were admitted within the walls. Such were the precautions in admitting strangers to the stronghold.
At six o'clock the division was in line and on the road. The morning was indescribably beautiful. The vapors that rose from the broad expanse of waters were tinged with a thousand gorgeous hues as they rolled away, dispersed by the morning sun; and the tall yellow pines were crowned with rich golden coronals of light. The road was perfectly level and dry, and the country delightful. Long rows of locusts and pines lined the sides of the road, and the rich groves of oak just sending forth their foliage, were beautifully interspersed with the holly, with its bright red berries and rich evergreen leaves. Peach orchards in full bloom added to the beauty of the scene, and when at times we could see the lines of troops, two and three miles in extent, their muskets glittering in the bright sunlight, the enthusiasm of the men was unbounded.
All the bridges over the route had been destroyed by the enemy, but pioneers advanced at the head of the column, and as the bridges were all small they were quickly repaired. A march of a few miles brought us in sight of the James river; a noble stream, at least five miles wide at this point. Not far from the shore appeared the masts of the U. S. frigate Cumberland, sunk in the memorable fight with the Merrimac. As our march led us along the banks, the views were charming. On onehand was the noble river, and on the other the orchards and groves. Deserted houses, and gardens blooming with hyacinths and other blossoms of early spring, were passed. On the opposite side of the river lay a rebel gunboat, watching our movements.
Our division, Smith's, had taken the lead on the James river road, while Porter's division had marched upon Great Bethel. After a march of fifteen miles, our division was drawn up in line of battle near Warwick. Porter's division had already reached Great Bethel, on our right, and we could see huge columns of smoke rising in that direction, and hear the roar of artillery. An aide dashed up and informed General Davidson that the enemy were in line of battle ready to receive us. Soon the order came to advance; the line swept onward through the woods and over a cleared field, but found no foe. A few cavalry pickets only were seen, and a shell from one of our Parrott guns set them flying towards Yorktown. We passed through the confederate encampments where their fires were still blazing, but soon turned round and bivouacked on ground last night occupied by rebels.
In this advance or reconnoissance of the whole army, the qualities of the individual soldiers composing it were brought out in bold relief. The effect on our own division was marked. During the months we had been in winter quarters, many officers and men had established marvelous reputations for bravery and hardihood, merely by constantly heralding their own heroism. But from this time these doughty heroes went back. Officers suddenly found cause for resigning; and enlisted men managed to get sent to the rear, and never showed their faces at the front again. On the contrary, some who were really invalids insisted on dragging themselves along with the column, fearful that an engagement might take place in which they would not participate. A sifting process wasthus commenced throughout the whole division, and to its honor the poltroons were very soon sifted out, and from that time forth, Smith's division never afforded a comfortable resting place for men of doubtful courage. "They went out from us, because they were not of us."
Next morning we retired over the road upon which we had advanced, and encamped near Newport News. As we passed this place on our outward march, we saw at a distance what appeared to be a heavy gun, but as we approached it proved to be a large cart, on which was mounted a great wooden mortar, which had, perhaps, been used by negroes for cracking corn. When we returned a hog's head was fixed in the mouth of the mortar. "There," remarked an officer, "is the first Quaker we have seen on the Peninsula." "You must sketch it," said the colonel of the Seventy-seventh, and the officer obeyed.
The Quaker at Newport News
The division encamped upon a low plain covered with sedges and reeds, a good enough encampment while thedry weather lasted, but when the rain came in floods two nights after we pitched our tents here, the whole division was inundated, and we moved to higher and better ground.
The masts of the Cumberland greeted our eyes whenever we turned toward the river, and the rebel gunboats made short excursions toward our side of the stream. One day large numbers of men, mostly from the Vermont brigade, were on the shoals of the river bathing and gathering oysters. The gunboat Teazer discovering them, steamed down toward them, and threw some heavy shells, shrieking and cracking among them, causing great consternation among the bathers, and some confusion and much amusement on shore.
The advance to Yorktown—A thunder storm—"Reliable contrabands"—Facing the enemy—A strong position—The Union line—A rebel welcome—Digging—On picket—A dreary country—An enterprising planter—Active work—Battle of Lee's Mills—Charge of the Vermont brigade—Progress of the siege—Ravages of disease—A front seat—Short supplies—The rebels withdraw—Entering the strongholds—Infernal machines—March to Williamsburgh—Victims of disease.
The advance to Yorktown—A thunder storm—"Reliable contrabands"—Facing the enemy—A strong position—The Union line—A rebel welcome—Digging—On picket—A dreary country—An enterprising planter—Active work—Battle of Lee's Mills—Charge of the Vermont brigade—Progress of the siege—Ravages of disease—A front seat—Short supplies—The rebels withdraw—Entering the strongholds—Infernal machines—March to Williamsburgh—Victims of disease.
At length, on the 4th of April, the army was put in motion for Yorktown. The General-in-Chief had arrived at Fortress Monroe the evening before, and at once the army became the scene of prodigious activity. Keyes' corps, our own division in advance, took the road along the banks of the James river. The rest of the army, headed by Porter's division, advanced on the more direct road to Yorktown, through Great Bethel, accompanied by General McClellan.
The day being clear and warm, the men soon began to realize the difficulty of transporting large amounts of clothing and camp equipage on their shoulders, and the roadsides were strewn with blankets and overcoats, dress coats and pants. The bushes and trees for miles along the route were thickly hung with articles of clothing, mostly new, and all good. Soldiers who had put on their marching suit would fall out of the ranks, the knapsack would quickly disgorge a new coat and pants, the wearers would as quickly divest themselves of the soiled garments and replace them with the new ones, the others being left on the ground. Whenever a halt was ordered this shifting process became general.
The roads, which at first were dry and firm, were as we advanced badly cut up, and great difficulty was experienced in getting the trains along.
An advance of ten miles brought us in front of Young's Mills, a strongly fortified position five or six miles from Yorktown. The corps was drawn up in line of battle and cavalry sent to reconnoiter the position. The works were deserted, but camp fires still blazed in them. Here we rested for the night. At daylight next morning the advance was renewed. The roads were even worse than the day before. Infantry could get along well enough, but artillery and army wagons had a hard time of it. Each piece of artillery made the road worse, until the axles dragged in a river of mud. We passed the little village of Warwick Court House. There were here a little brick court house, a jail and a clerk's office seven feet by ten, a store and a tavern. There were also two small dwelling houses.
After a march of three miles the division was drawn up in line of battle. We had reached the hostile works before the rest of the army. Skirmishers were sent to the front and we advanced slowly and cautiously through the woods. A terrific thunder storm burst upon us and the roar of the heavenly artillery seemed to mock any efforts at martial grandeur. Seldom, if ever, had we of the northern states witnessed such an exhibition of sublimity and terrible magnificence of the workings of the elements. The vivid lightning and terrific peals of thunder seemed to the men the presage of deadly work to come. The advance was very difficult, the woods being marshy and filled with tangles and briars. The men were scratched and bleeding. The long line of battle presently emerged from the woods and occupied a clearing, in the center of which was a mansion, the late residence of a rebel officer. Some scouts brought from the house a couple of negresseswhom they led to General Keyes. They communicated their information with an earnestness that proved their sympathies were not with their late master. It was a picturesque scene; those tall negresses with their bright red turbans and long white woolen gowns, telling with earnest gestures what they knew of the position of the enemy, while the generals and their staffs listened eagerly to their words. They said that when we passed over the little hill just in front, we should be under fire from the batteries of the rebels, who were in large force; "but laws a massa, noting like all dese yer," said they, pointing to the troops of our division.
Cautiously the clearing was crossed, the long line of battle moving in beautiful order—Kennedy's, Ayres' and Wheeler's batteries each accompanying a brigade.
Again we entered a heavy pine wood in which the swamp was deeper than ever, and advancing through it we came face to face with the enemy. Warwick creek, a marshy stream which had been dammed by the rebels, raising its waters into ponds and deep morasses, was between us and their works, and the accessible points were guarded by artillery. Two regiments were at once deployed as skirmishers and sent in advance, and our batteries were planted along the edge of the wood with the line of the infantry. Only Smith's division was in line, the others were waiting on the road for orders to come up.
Along the road, for more than half the distance back to Young's Mills, the brigades of Couch's and Kearney's divisions were resting on their arms, while cannon by scores waited to be called into action.
The enemy was not slow to acknowledge our presence, and as a token of greeting sent some twelve-pound shells crashing among the trees about us. The firing now became brisk on our side, and the rebels replied spiritedlywith their twelve-pounders. Hundreds of men were now called up from the rear brigades and detailed to build corduroy roads. Trees were cut down and trimmed of their branches, and laid side by side so as to form a kind of bridge over the swamp to enable more artillery to come up. The rapidity with which such roads were built was marvelous.
By this time the column on the right had reached the works in front of the town. The position here was also strong. Although the Warwick did not interpose, yet high bluffs, crowned with redoubts in which were mounted heavy guns, frowned upon the assailants. Thus far it appears that the leaders of our army had been totally ignorant of the position and strength of the enemy, and had led it up to the works, blindly feeling the way without maps or guides. (McClellan's Report.) The defensive works were now found to consist of a series of redoubts and rifle pits stretching across the Peninsula, seven miles in extent, with high bluffs on the right and Warwick creek in their front on the left.
The position occupied by our division was known as Lee's Mills, and to our right, nearly three miles, was the village of Yorktown. The line of battle was now arranged in the following order from right to left: Heintzelman's corps, consisting of Porter's, Hooker's and Hamilton's divisions, were in front of the town; Sedgwick's division of Sumner's corps on the left of them, and Keyes' corps, comprising Smith's and Couch's division (Casey's division arrived in a few days), held the position on the Warwick at Lee's Mills.
The position of the enemy was, without doubt, one of great strength, and everything had been done to render it more formidable. Yet they were by no means toostrong or sufficiently well garrisoned to resist an assault from such a body of men as now appeared in their front. That there were weak points in this line of defenses, stretching seven miles, was afterwards demonstrated; and that the forces behind the works were by no means sufficiently numerous, at the time of our approach, to afford formidable resistance at all points in their extensive line, is now well known.
It appears from the official report of the rebel General Johnston, who then commanded all the rebel forces in Virginia, that at the time of the appearance of our army before Yorktown the works were defended by only about eleven thousand men, and that even after he had reinforced the garrisons by the troops which he was hurrying from Manassas, his army amounted to only fifty thousand men.
The artillery duel was kept up until night. We had lost some men during the day, but not so many as we had feared. First a poor fellow from the Seventh Maine, his heart and left lung torn out by a shell; then one from the Forty-ninth New York, shot in the head; the next was from our own regiment, Frank Jeffords, who had to suffer amputation of a leg; then a man from the Forty-ninth was sent to the rear with his heel crushed. In all, our loss did not exceed twenty men. The casualties in the other brigades were less than in our own.
As night approached, the firing gradually ceased, and nothing but the scattering shots of the skirmishers was heard. We lay down in the swamp with no tents, and many of us without food. Officers and men built platforms of logs and bark to keep out of the water where they were not fortunate enough to find a dry place. General Smith bivouacked near the line of battle, making his bed at the foot of a pine tree, with nothing but his overcoat for shelter. It may not be amiss to say herethat General Smith, unlike most gentlemen with stars on their shoulders, was always in the habit of sleeping at the very front.
All the following day, and the next, the firing was kept up steadily on both sides. At night showers of cannister and grape would fall in our camp, and fortunate was he who had a good tree or stump between him and the rebel works against which to lay his head while he slept.
We at length became so accustomed to the continual skirmishing, that unless the firing was in fierce volleys we took no notice of it. The boys of the Thirty-third New York being on the skirmish line on the 8th, charged a rifle pit with shouts and hurrahs, and drove the rebels from it. An attempt was made to retake it, but the boys held their ground.
The men performed herculean labors on the roads, and in throwing up earthworks. No rest was allowed. When not on picket they were cutting down trees or throwing up earthworks or building bridges. Such constant labor soon began to exhaust the strength of the stoutest, and hundreds of them yielded to disease who supposed themselves capable of enduring any amount of hardships. Yet there was now and then a grimly gay episode in this hard routine. Here is an incident that occurred two or three days after we approached the works, and affords a good sample of picketing between us and the forts. Our pickets were within speaking distance of those of the enemy; each party kept, if possible, snugly behind some big stump or tree, out of the reach of his disagreeable neighbors. A good deal of hard talk had passed between one of our pickets and one of the "Johnnies." Finally the rebel thrust his hand beyond his tree holding in it a bottle, and shaking it, challenged the Yankee to come and take it—"crack" went the Yankee's rifle at the hand. "Ha, ha! why don't you hit it? What do youthink of Bull Run?" "How do you like Fort Donelson?" responded the Yankee.
While this colloquy was going on, Yankee number two crept round behind a log, and drawing on the southerner, blazed away at him. The son of chivalry clapped his hand to his shoulder and ran off howling. "There, you fool," shouted Yankee number one, "I told you that blind man would be shooting you pretty soon."
The country about us was uncultivated and unhealthy. The lands were low and swampy, and mostly covered with a heavy growth of yellow pines. The few remaining inhabitants were mostly women, negresses and children; now and then a disabled specimen of poor white trash, or a farmer too infirm to be of service in the rebel army, was to be met with. All were alike destitute of enterprise, and the houses upon the "plantations" were of the meanest order, raised three or four feet above the ground upon posts without the usual foundation of stone. The "plantations" consisted usually of about ten or twenty acres of cleared land in the midst of the forest, with narrow roads among the pines leading to neighboring plantations.
The writer inquired of the proprietor of one of these isolated spots, who also had some forty negro women and children, how he managed to support so large a family from the proceeds of so little land. "Well," said he, "I could not support them from the proceeds of the land alone, but you see I sell a few negroes every year and buy corn with the money; so with what we raise and what we get for the sale of the negroes, we get along very well."
"But why do you not cut down some of this forest and till more land? You own a large tract of land which is entirely worthless as it now is."
"There is where you are greatly mistaken, said the enterprising southerner, my timber land is my best property."But of what use do you make it? "Oh, I sell a great deal of wood. I take it to Fortress Monroe and Hampton and get two dollars and a half a cord for it!"
The reader will perhaps understand the profits drawn from the wood lands, when it is remembered that Fortress Monroe was twenty miles distant.
Night attacks by the enemy became common; and it was not an unfrequent occurrence for the whole division to be called suddenly to arms at midnight and stand in line until morning. Skirmishes and sharpshooting continued with little intermission; bullets of rebel riflemen whizzing through our camps or unceremoniously entering our tents at all times. Rebel gunboats approached the mouth of the Warwick and by their assistance the rebel infantry attempted to turn our left flank, but the troops of our division gallantly met their attack and drove them back.
This state of affairs continued until the 16th of April. That morning, word passed through the division that we were to make an assault. Orders came to move, and the division was massed near some ruins, known as "The Chimneys," in front of one of the rebel forts; the Second brigade holding the front line, supported by the First and Third brigades. As we moved round to take our positions, an American eagle whirled above our heads in elegant circles and at length floated away toward the south, the boys swinging their hats and cheering the bird with loud huzzahs.
The Vermonters Charge at Lee's Mills
The Charge of the Vermonters at Lee's Mills
The fort in our front covered the road from Newport News to Williamsburgh, and could we get possession of it we could turn the flanks of the enemy, obliging him to abandon his position and enabling us either to prevent his escape or to harass him in his flight. In front of the fort the creek had been dammed and a deep morass interposed between us and the works. GeneralMcClellan and his immense suite rode to the point from which the attack was to be made, and communicating a few minutes with Generals Keyes and Smith, left the field. Mott's battery was now brought into position on the open plateau and opened a fierce cannonade, to which the rebels replied with spirit, dismounting one of our guns and killing several of the gunners at the very start. Mott was reinforced by Kennedy's and Wheeler's batteries, and the hostile guns were soon silenced. Our batteries then advanced within five hundred yards of the fort, and the gray-coated rebels who were seen to fill the woods, were soon dispersed. Two companies of troops, from the Third Vermont, were now ordered forward. Down from the woods they came, rushed into the water to their waists, and gallantly made for the rebel rifle pits. The first line of the works was gained and then the second. The fort was empty, but a ditch to their left was filled with men. They poured a volley among them and the gray coats fled. Thus the fort was actually in their possession, and was held for some minutes by the noble fellows, but when they looked for support, none came. The three brigades stood upon the opposite bank, ready to plunge through the stream, and waiting with intense anxiety for the order, "forward;" but no order came, and the brave Green Mountain boys who had so nobly performed their part of the work, were forced to fall back under a galling fire from the rebels, who rushed back to their pits as soon the Vermonters had left them, pouring volley after volley into the retreating forces, who, their ammunition spent, could not reply to the rebel fire. Before they were able to reach the shelter of the woods, sad havoc was made in their ranks. Skirmishing was kept up for some hours, by other regiments, but with no result except the loss of men.
The following list of killed and wounded was obtained the next day after the battle:
2d Vermont—1 killed.3d Vermont—24 killed, 7 mortally wounded, 56 wounded,1 missing.4th Vermont—3 killed, 30 wounded.5th Vermont—2 killed, 6 wounded.6th Vermont—11 killed, 77 wounded.Total loss to the brigade, 218.
Thus ended the fight known as the "Battle of Lee's Mills," a battle in which two hundred men gallantly captured an important work of the enemy, and thousands of their companions burning with desire to share in their glory stood by and saw them abandon it! Why the other brigades were not ordered forward has never been explained satisfactorily. That General Smith would gladly have sent them forward we earnestly believe; but we now know that General McClellan desired that a general engagement should not be brought on at that time.
The wounded men exhibited the same bravery, while their wounds were being cared for, that characterized their brilliant charge. Men badly mutilated, with bullets in their heads, or breasts, or limbs, refused to receive attention from the surgeon who dressed their wounds, until their more unfortunate companions were cared for. "Don't mind me, doctor, there are others hurt worse than I am," said many a brave fellow, as he lay upon the ground bleeding from his wounds.
The following incident connected with this noble charge will be remembered by all who were at that time members of Smith's division, and by hundreds who saw accounts of it in the newspapers of the day:
Private William Scott, of Company K, Third Vermont, was, in the autumn of 1861, found asleep at his post on the picket line. It was a grave fault; but the weary soldier, inexperienced in the service, and unaccustomed to such night vigils, in an evil hour yielded to the demandsof tired nature, little thinking that the lives of hundreds of his comrades were periled by his unfaithfulness. He was tried by a court-martial and sentenced to be shot. The sentence was approved, and at the appointed time he was brought forth to execution. General Smith, desiring to impress upon the minds of his men the terrible consequences of such an offense, formed his troops in line. The culprit was brought out before them, and led to the place of execution. The guard, with loaded muskets, stood ready to execute the dreadful sentence, which was read before all the troops. All waited in breathless expectation for the order to fire; but instead another paper was read. It was a pardon from the President! Then the wildest shouts of joy ran along the line. Shout after shout arose from the division, and hundreds blessed the name of President Lincoln.
There were many circumstances to render this a case of peculiar interest. It was the first sentence of the kind; it was at the beginning of the war, when a soldier's life was regarded of value, and when all eyes were riveted upon the army, and every incident was of interest. It was also the first instance of the kind in which the executive clemency had been exercised. So near had the hour of execution arrived when the President signed the pardon, that, fearing it might not be received in season, he took his carriage and drove to camp, to assure himself that the man's life should be spared.
"I will show President Lincoln that I am not afraid to die for my country," said the grateful soldier; and well did he fulfill his promise. Among the bravest of those two hundred heroes who crossed the swamp at Lee's Mills, was William Scott, of Company K, Third Vermont. But he was brought back a corpse. He had shown the President that he was not afraid to die for his country. He was one of the foremost in the charge, and one of the firstto fall. His comrades made his grave under the shadow of the tall pines, and as they folded his blanket around him, and lowered him to his resting place, tears stood upon those brown cheeks; but the tears of sorrow were mingled with tears of joy, when they thought of his glorious death, and his narrow escape from an ignominious fate, and again, in their hearts, they blessed the man who was always the soldier's friend.
We resumed our place the next day after the battle, on the front line, and commenced digging.
Fierce night sorties were again made by the enemy and bravely resisted by our boys, who continued the work regardless of these annoyances. Only one fight occurred on our part of the line after the 16th, in which we lost any number of men. On the 28th the First brigade had a skirmish in which we lost one killed and half a dozen wounded. Among the latter was Lieutenant, afterward Colonel Milliken, of the Forty-third New York. A reconnoissance on the left about the same time, resulted in finding the rebels in considerable force, and a loss of two good soldiers to the Seventy-seventh New York. In the meantime earthworks of great strength were being thrown up on the right of the line before Yorktown, and everything was being put in a complete state of preparation for the grand bombardment. Enormous siege guns of one hundred and even two hundred pound calibre, and immense mortars were brought up and mounted in the earthworks, and it was thought that with the powerful means we were using the fall of Yorktown was only a question of time.
Our losses by the rebels before Yorktown were not great, but the ravages by disease were fearful. Many thousands of noble fellows who would gladly have braved the dangers of the battle-field, were carried to the rear with fevers engendered by the deadly malaria of the swamps,from which few ever recovered sufficiently to rejoin the ranks; and thousands of others were laid in humble graves along the marshy borders of the Warwick or about the hospitals at Young's Mills. For a month the men were almost continually under arms; often called in the middle of the night to resist the attempts of the enemy to force our line under cover of the thick darkness, standing in line of battle day after day and digging at earthworks night after night.
During the thirty days of the siege we had twenty days of rain. Thunder storms followed each other in quick succession, with lightnings more vivid than we had ever seen at the north. Men lay down to rest at night with their equipments buckled about them and wet to their skins. Men unaccustomed to the hardships of campaigning could not endure such exposure.
A few divisions of the army performed by far the greater part of the labor, either because they had at first reached positions which imposed greater toil, or because greater confidence was reposed in them. Our own division was one of those upon which the duties imposed were too great for men to perform; yet the men would have resented being sent to the rear, and it was said that General Smith remarked that "he had spoken for a front seat for his boys and he intended to keep it."
Added to all the exposures and hardships of the siege, there was a deplorable want of proper commissary and medical supplies. While the men were supplied with fair rations of hard bread, vegetables were unknown among us, and the supply of fresh meat wholly inadequate. In the Medical Department the greatest difficulty was experienced in obtaining supplies, and indeed it was impossible to get them. Not that regimental surgeons did not use their utmost endeavor to procure them, but as brigade and regimental commissaries could not obtain supplies of foodwhich were not furnished to the army at all, so surgeons could not procure medicines and other necessaries which were locked in the storehouses in Washington. This subject will be more fully alluded to in another place, and it is to be hoped that the responsibility of this criminal negligence to supply the army with medical and hospital stores may fall where it belongs.
Thus, with their minds wrought up to a continual state of excitement, with constant exposure to tempests and malaria, with excessive and exhausting labors, and with improper food and scarcity of medicine, sickness and death swept over us like a pestilence.
At length, after a month of toil and exposure almost unprecedented, after losing nearly one-fifth of our magnificent army by disease and death, our batteries were finished, the enormous siege guns were mounted, and the thirteen inch mortars in position. The army looked anxiously for the grandfinaleof all these extensive preparations. Men had lost the enthusiasm which prevailed when we landed upon the Peninsula, and a smile was seldom seen; but a fixed and determined purpose to succeed still appeared in their faces. Now at length we were ready; and the countenances of the soldiers began to lighten up a little. But as the sun rose on the morning of the 4th of May, behold, the rebels had vanished, and with them our hopes of a brilliant victory! Unfortunately for our hopes of a great success at Yorktown, the rebel generals had shown themselves unwilling to afford us such an opportunity by waiting for us longer; and during the night of the 3d and 4th they had evacuated the place.
They had gained a month of time for strengthening the defenses about Richmond, and for concentrating their forces there. Now they were ready to fall back without testing our magnificent works and huge guns, and lead usinto the swamps of Chickahominy; where they hoped that the fever would complete the ghastly work already commenced at Yorktown.
During the night of the evacuation, the roar of artillery exceeded anything that had been heard before. From one end of the line to the other the shells and shot poured into our camps, and the arches of fire that marked the courses of the shells, with flame spouting from the mouths of the guns, created a magnificent pyrotechnic display. But at daylight, orderlies flew from regiment to regiment with the startling intelligence that the beleaguered works were deserted, and with orders to occupy them at once. Smith's division hastened to cross over the dam, and we found ourselves in the strongholds that we had so long invested. As the Seventy-seventh regiment passed along one of the roads leading among the intrenchments, a sharp report like that of a pistol was heard at the feet of those in the center of the column, and directly under the colors. The men scattered, and a piece of old cloth was seen lying on the ground at the point from which the report emanated. Colonel McKean, who was very near, lifted the cloth with the point of his sword, and discovered a torpedo carefully buried in the ground, except a nipple which had been filled with fulminating powder, which was covered by the old cloth. The fuse only had exploded. Had the machine itself exploded, it must have destroyed many of our men, our colonel among them. Other regiments were not so fortunate as we were. Very many men were killed in the streets and intrenchments by these torpedoes, which the enemy had planted in the street at either end of the bridges, about springs, and near the deserted guns. They were concealed beneath the ground with great care, the capped nipple only rising above the surface, and this, covered by an old rag or piece of bark thrown over it, exploded at the slightest touch. These infernal machineswere only one feature of the general plan of our enemies to carry on a war by brutal, savage and cowardly means. The starving of prisoners at Andersonville and Salisbury, and the wholesale butchery at Fort Pillow, were other parts of the same savage plan which was crowned by the fearful tragedy at Ford's Theatre.
We made little delay among the rebel intrenchments; only long enough to glance over the formidable works, where the enemy had abandoned seventy-two pieces of artillery, mostly of heavy caliber, with immense numbers of shovels, picks, wheelbarrows and other paraphernalia of an army.
The division was at nine o'clock sent forward on the road toward Williamsburgh; encountering, before it had proceeded far, a portion of the rear-guard of the confederate army, which hastily fell back before our advance. General Smith informed the Commander-in-Chief of the encounter, who ordered Stoneman, with a regiment of cavalry, to give chase to the retiring body, and, if possible, cut it off; but, unfortunately, either from want of proper information in regard to the roads, or from other hindrances, this was not effected. The division pushed on over the road lately traversed by the rebels, the men overcoming all obstacles that had been thrown in their way, in their anxiety to overtake the foe.
The scenery, as the troops passed, was indeed charming beyond description. Magnificent forests of oak and pine, interspersed with clearings, the residences of farmers, with fine fields, covered with the green blades of the newly springing wheat, met the view along the road; while the woods were adorned with innumerable flowers. The tall dogwood, with its clusters of large flowers like swarms of white butterflies, mingled with the Judas tree, whose leafless boughs were densely covered with racemes of purple blossoms. The azalia and the honeysucklebeneath formed a delightful contrast with the gorgeous floral display above.
Thus the division was hurried on, until at evening it came upon the rebel works at Williamsburgh. As our forces approached Williamsburgh, the cavalry came upon the enemy, and a sharp skirmish ensued, in which we lost about fifty in killed and wounded, and the rebels left as many on the field. The charge was made by the Sixth cavalry and Gibbon's battery, driving the rebels back. They, in their turn, being reinforced, forced our troops back; one of our guns, from which all the horses were shot, being abandoned. Each party strove hard for the possession of the gun, but night closed upon the contest, leaving it in possession of neither. In the meantime, the men of our division too sick to march were being cared for by our medical officers. Hundreds of the men of our division lay sick with typhoid fever and other equally dangerous maladies. These were all taken to the hospital which had been commenced a day or two previous, about a mile and a half from our camp. The whole day was occupied in removing these men. Of those sent to this hospital, as of the many previously sent to the hospital at Young's Mills and Fortress Monroe, few ever returned.