Assigned to 6th. corps. On the way to the Army of the Potomac. A
dreadful march. At Cold Harbor. Trying situation. Assume command. A
gallant charge. Grand success. Severe losses. Driven back. Lack of
support. Incidents of the battle. The demoralized general. Further
account of Cold Harbor. Occupying the Confederate line. A sad picture
of war. An uncomfortable situation. Relieved. Close work. Change of
base. Grand but perilous movement of the army. The old church at
Jamestown.
On the evening of the 28th, we broke camp, and marched all--night
towards City Point, which we reached about daylight on the morning of
the 29th. We remained there until afternoon, when, having embarked on
the steamer Delaware, we proceeded down the river. By this time, it had
become generally understood that our division of the 10th corps had
been temporarily united with the 18th corps, and that we were on our
way to join the Army of the Potomac. About the middle of the forenoon
of the 31st, we landed at the White House, on the Pamunkey River. Here
rations were distributed, the men got their dinners, and late in the
afternoon the order was given to fall in.
Nearly all night was spent on the march; and when we halted it was not
to rest, but to do picket duty. Early on the morning of June 1, we
resumed our march, and continued all day, resting occasionally, as the
men became too exhausted to keep on. The heat was almost intolerable,
and the dust so filled the air that at times it was impossible to see
the distance of a company front ahead of us. When the command to halt
was given, the regiment seemed to melt away, and it was with the utmost
difficulty that the march could be resumed. Many men were reported as
fatally exhausted and left to die by the roadside from the commands
that had preceded us, and it required the combined efforts of our own
officers, and the example of patient and cheerful endurance on their
part, to keep our men from falling away and straggling. Arrived at Cold
Harbor, late in the afternoon, we were ordered into the woods--as we
supposed, to encamp. But alas! a soldier may never rest, till he or the
enemy is dead.
[Illustration: GENERAL SMITH'S HEADQUARTERS, COLD HARBOR.]
After standing in line, with arms stacked, for a half-hour, the order
came to move forward to engage in an attack on the enemy's works, first
from the brigade commander, afterwards from the division, and finally
from corps headquarters. The 47th New York regiment, which was on our
left, had already moved away, and still no word of command was given.
What should we do? The greatest excitement prevailed. Finally, in the
absence of Major Coan, who had been detailed on special duty, and at
the earnest solicitations of several officers, the writer assumed
command, although not the ranking officer present. The situation was
peculiar, and the emergency desperate; and when the order was given to
take arms, they were seized with an alacrity which told of the feeling
that prevailed. The officers expressed their satisfaction, and the men
moved with a promptness which signified the relief they felt for their
rescue from the impending disgrace. "Shoulder arms! Left face! Forward
march! By the right flank, march! Left oblique! Double quick!" and we
had joined the brigade. "Charge bayonets!" across the field, and into
the woods; and the first line of the enemy's rifle-pits was occupied.
Here the men stopped, and commenced firing; but a lull in the fire of
the enemy enforced the order to move forward, and in little more time
than it takes to write it we had captured and occupied a section of the
main line of Confederate works, and had more prisoners marching to the
rear than the whole number present in the regiment. Will any of our
readers recall the name of the little corporal of Company G, scarce
five feet high, at whose command, as he stood on the top of the works,
at charge bayonet, "Come out of there, you d----d rebels," a lieutenant
and nearly a dozen men emerged from the works, and humbly and quietly
proceeded to the rear with the other prisoners?
How much was crowded into the short time that we occupied that line
of intrenchments. Lieutenant Ingraham, for the first time in action,
having heretofore been detailed in the commissary department, with
many others, was shot in the very moment of victory. It was a dreadful
place to hold, with the rebels massed just at the foot of the hill,
on the right, and pouring in upon us a deadly flanking fire. Repeated
messages were sent to the commanding general, explaining our situation,
and urging an attack on our right, or re-enforcements to enable us to
do it; but no help, and no word of any kind, was received. Efforts
were made to induce the commander of the 47th New York, which was
separated from us by a little ravine on our left, to unite with us
in a charge down the hill; but without avail, for either our purpose
was misunderstood owing to the distance between us, which made
communication difficult, or disinclination or positive orders forbade,
and so we were compelled to wait and suffer, hoping that some general
officer would become interested to find our whereabouts, and organize
some new movement, by which we would be relieved. The order to
charge down the hill would have been welcome, but it would have been
madness to have attempted it without support. While we waited, and our
numbers were rapidly diminishing, we could plainly see the Confederate
reserves gathering in the distance, across the meadow at the foot of
the hill, and knew that we could not hold our position long unless help
came.
[Illustration: POSITION OF GENERAL SMITH'S COMMAND AT COLD HARBOR, VA.]
At this time, the adjutant-general of the brigade that had charged
across the same ground that we had come over, came to me, and offered
his services, stating that his brigade had been routed and scattered,
and nearly all the field officers of the command killed or wounded.
While explaining to him the position of affairs, and urging him to go
to the rear and endeavor to hurry up re-enforcements, a bullet pierced
his brain, and he sank in death. I remember Corporal St. John of
Company G, who, finding a sword which had belonged to a rebel officer,
kindly presented it to me, as unmindful of the bullets which whistled
about our heads as if they were not freighted with missions of death
to himself or comrades. Of such men was the regiment composed. But, as
the shadows deepened about us, there came a rush. The enemy was fairly
upon us; and, before we could gather ourselves to repel the attack,
some one, without authority, had called out to retreat, and, in the
confusion which followed, the colors were seized and held by the enemy,
not, however, without a fierce but hopeless struggle. Back through the
woods we went, broken and dispirited. After securing a victory, we had
been left alone and unsupported, to be shot down like sheep, and the
men knew that it was time to seek a place of shelter.
There was a rally at the edge of the woods, where we found the
commander of a division reclining under a tree, apparently deserted by
every one, and in a state of complete helplessness and demoralization.
Although he has since occupied positions of great prominence and
responsibility, we never hear his name without recalling his
appearance, when, emerging from the woods, we discovered him in the
situation described, and learned his name and rank. Completely
beside himself because of the defeat and dispersion of his command,
he insisted that the feeble line of officers and men who collected in
his vicinity should renew the attack, when a whole division had been
defeated and scattered. Fairly out of the sound of his voice, we left
him to his own reflections. Already darkness had settled down upon us,
and, after a little council of war, with Lieutenant Barrett and others,
we lay down for a little rest, in the field over which the regiment had
so gallantly charged that afternoon. It had done nobly, and, with the
other regiments of the brigade, can claim the only substantial success
attained by the division; for we believe they were the only troops who
succeeded in capturing the main line of rebel intrenchments.
At the point which we occupied, this line passed across the top of a
hill, which sloped down to a meadow in front, and on the right dropped
more abruptly, to what seemed quite a deep ravine. The Federal line
stopped with the right of our regiment, and evidently no successful
attack, if any at all, had been made on our immediate right. After we
commenced our charge across the field, no communication whatever was
received from our commanding officers, while it has always seemed to
the writer that, if the success which we attained had been followed up,
most important results would have been achieved. It is possible that
the troops who preceded us in the attack reached the first line of the
enemy's rifle-pits, for at that point we met with little opposition.
But they penetrated no farther, and, either unaware of their partial
success, or exhausted in the effort, they became so completely
scattered that we saw no trace of them.
The next day, June 2, the remnant of the regiment capable of duty was
ordered to occupy a portion of the Confederate line, to the left of
that captured by us the night before. As we filed through the woods,
we passed a little pale-faced boy. Separated from his comrades, he
struggled on through the underbrush, with wearied steps, uncared-for
and alone. His feeble hands scarce held the musket which he dragged
along. All his remaining consciousness seemed concentrated on the
effort to do as others did, and as we hurried past him, he turned on
us a dazed, bewildered look. We could not stop, else we would have
taken him by the hand, and led him away from the danger he was in, to
the protection and care of comrades and friends, as we longed to do.
We found him when we came back, but he had passed beyond the sphere of
human sympathy and aid. The look of painful weariness was gone from
that little upturned face. He had found rest. It seems strange, but
that picture is burned into the memory with such distinctness that
it comes up before the eye whenever the touch of recollection brings
back the incidents of army life. That day, on those intrenchments,
we lay down beside the dead and dying of the regiment relieved, to
serve as targets for the enemy, who were close at hand, and familiar
with the locality. We did not remain long, and were glad to get away.
During our stay, the greatest precaution was necessary, on account of
the near vicinity of the enemy. Lieutenant Barrett, who was always
at the point of danger, while obeying the order of the commanding
officer to lie down behind the log which lay across the path, at the
foot of the intrenchments, received a painful wound, which kept him
in hospital for months afterwards. A member of company G, who had
sheltered himself behind a stump, which rose about two feet above the
top of the earthworks, received, as he supposed, his death-wound, and
gave audible expression to his dying agonies, but, as the effect of the
shot, which had nearly spent itself in the rotten stump, passed off,
the sharp whizzing of a bullet, which came uncomfortably near his head,
brought him to life so suddenly that, starting up with a spring, he
darted away for the intrenchments as if the Evil One were following,
and did not fully recover his senses until he found himself in a place
of safety, outside the wood. The nature of the situation in which we
were placed may be judged by the order which I was constrained to give
in respect to the manner of retiring when we were relieved; namely,
that the men should go out one at a time from the extreme left of the
line, hugging closely to the earthwork as they crawled to this point.
This was accomplished without a single casualty, and the writer resumed
command just outside the danger line, where he found the regiment
formed as if for parade. It was a constant pleasure to be associated
with such officers in the command of such men. That night we remained
under arms near our intrenchments, which had been thrown up after our
repulse of the day previous. From the journals before me, I learn that
the casualties in the regiment, during the twenty-four hours, were five
officers killed, four wounded, and eighty enlisted men killed, wounded
and missing,--a very large proportion of those engaged, especially of
officers.
June 3, no special duty, but frequently moved from one point to another
along our works. Some hard fighting was going on near us at different
times in the day, and we were constantly under an irregular but
annoying fire. June 4, moved up into an exposed position in the rear of
our advanced line of works. June 5, although the men built intricate
lines of rifle-pits, with most ingenious contrivances for protection,
they were still very much exposed, and several were wounded. In the
evening occupied the very front line. A sharp attack was made on
our left, but without avail. During the afternoon of the 6th, the
firing ceased for a little while, and we had an opportunity of seeing
the Confederate works, which in our immediate front were somewhat
disconnected and not as strong as ours. It had been dangerous to expose
even a hand, so close were the Confederates, and so sharp the firing;
and it was good to be relieved from this for a few moments. When the
short truce was over, some of our men commenced singing, "We'll hang
Jeff Davis on a sour apple-tree," which so enraged the Johnnies that
they made it warm for us until the singing ceased.
The 7th was a quiet day, but we had need of watchfulness. The 9th
corps, under Burnside, was on our right, and formed the right flank of
the Federal army. In front of some parts of our lines, the Confederate
works were apparently within a hundred yards, and extreme precautions
were necessary to guard against a sudden rush. Men were stationed
outside, in rifle-pits, so near that they talked with the Confederates
similarly posted. These men could only be relieved in the darkness of
the night. This evening the bands played all along our lines, not
funeral dirges, but airs of joy and triumph, telling us that something
important had occurred, or was about to occur.
The 8th and 9th were, comparatively speaking, days of rest. The woods
between us and the 9th corps had been cut down, to make the connection
more perfect. Our position and duties continued about the same until
the night of the 11th, when extra precautions indicated that something
was going on. On the 12th, the air was full of rumors, and it was
soon understood that the whole army was about to change its base of
operations. Just at dark, the 76th Pennsylvania, on our left, moved out
of the rifle-pits, and their places were occupied by our regiment. At
the same time, we were informed that the 9th corps had already left,
and we should be the last to go. The constant yells and the heavy
firing of the Confederates indicated that they suspected something
unusual, and we prepared ourselves for an attack on our weakened line.
The utmost vigilance was exercised, for every one knew the extreme
peril of our situation, and when, at one o'clock on the morning of
the 13th, the order came to evacuate, every voice was hushed. The
whispered word was passed from man to man, to retire from the works one
by one from the left, in perfect silence, and rendezvous in the woods
some distance in the rear; seven companies thus moved out, without
accident, or casualty, although the shot and shell shrieked about
our heads continually. But the most delicate task remained--namely,
the extricating the three companies who, as outpost sentinels and
sharpshooters, were so near the enemy that it seemed impossible for
them to escape. This, however, was accomplished, with the loss of a
few men, who were necessarily left behind, and we took up our line of
march for the White House, occupying the most honorable position in
this perilous movement, when the whole Federal army was withdrawn from
the immediate presence of Lee's army, without its knowledge and without
serious loss. It has been well remarked, by an able writer on military
operations, that it was one of the most remarkable movements in the
annals of warfare, and could not have been carried out successfully
except by the most experienced troops, under the most perfect training
and discipline.
[Illustration: BATTERY AND CHURCH TOWER. SITE OF JAMESTOWN.]
Early on the morning of the 14th, we steamed away from the White House
on the Pamunkey River in two small transports on our return to Bermuda
Hundred. During our voyage, we passed within sight of the ruins of
the old church at Jamestown. How full of suggestion and reflection,
recalling, as they did, the history of the proud old state, with its
long line of distinguished patriots, soldiers, and statesmen. We
thought of Patrick Henry, whose glowing eloquence first set ablaze the
smouldering embers of rebellion, and of Washington, whose wisdom,
endurance, and constancy, sealed at Yorktown the title to independence,
and the inalienable rights of manhood to life, liberty, and the pursuit
of happiness, and wondered at the inconsistency and blindness of the
early fathers of our country, who permitted the ingrafting of the
gigantic, festering evil of slavery upon our system of government,
thereby entailing on us the sufferings and horrors, the changes and
uncertainties, of this war. All the more singular because liberty and
justice were the foundation principles of church, state, and society.
During the voyage to Bermuda Hundred, the transports became separated,
and the morning of the 16th found only one wing of the regiment
arrived at its destination. This was immediately ordered outside the
intrenchments, to the Confederate picket-line, which had been evacuated
during the night.