McCLELLAN SUCCEEDED BY BURNSIDE.
1862--Burnside's First Campaign.--Army of the Potomac in Three Divisions.
--Advance from Warrenton to Falmouth.--General Stahel's Raid to the
Shenandoah.--Laying Pontoons across the Rappahannock under Fire.--
Battle of Fredericksburg--Daring Feats and General Heroism.--Death of
General Bayard.--The Hospitals.--Sanitary and Christian Commissions.
--Camp "Bayard."--Camp-Fires.--Winter Quarters.--Friendly Relations
of Pickets.--Trading.--Pay-Day.--"Stuck in the Mud."
Upon General Ambrose Burnside fell the choice of the Executive for
commander of the great Union army. He assumed it with great reluctance
and unfeigned self-distrust, and only as a matter of obedience to
orders. This change in the commanding officer, deleterious and dangerous
as it might be upon the morale of the army, was nevertheless considered
necessary and expedient.
Having secured, by somewhat formidable forces, the principal gaps or
passages of the Blue Ridge, which had been occupied by the enemy since
their advance into the Valley, General Burnside began to make
preparations to move his army to Fredericksburg, as being the most
feasible and direct line from Washington to Richmond. To mask as long as
possible his real design, he threatened an attack upon Gordonsville; but
General Lee, by the aid of his emissaries and raiders, soon ascertained
his plans, and moving his army across the Blue Ridge, through the
western passes, he took his position on the south bank of the
Rappahannock, to prevent Burnside's crossing.
_November 8._--The Harris Light broke camp at Leesburg early in the
morning, and advanced to White Plains, where we encountered and defeated
a detachment of Rebel cavalry, driving them towards the mountains.
Continuing our journey through this pleasant valley between the Blue
Ridge and the Bull Run mountains, we soon joined our main army, whose
headquarters were at Warrenton. This is the most beautiful village in
this region of country, situated on the crest of fruitful hills, and
elegantly laid out. It is the shire-town of Fauquier County. Here a few
days were consumed in effecting the alterations incident upon a change
of commander, and on the fourteenth the Army of the Potomac was
constituted into three grand divisions, to be commanded respectively by
Generals Sumner, Franklin, and Hooker. The following day Warrenton was
abandoned, and the army swept down towards the Rappahannock. The sight
was a grand one. On our march, orders were received from President
Lincoln enjoining a stricter observance of the Sabbath in the army and
navy, than had been done before. As a general thing the Sabbath had not
been regarded as any more than any other day. Indeed, very few men in
the rank and file kept any calendar of time, and seldom knew the date or
day. This was occasionally the case even with officers. The only
possible way of keeping pace with flying time in the army, is by
writing a diary. But even when it was known that the Sabbath had been
reached, no regard was taken of its sacred character. One of the causes
of our disaster at the first battle of Bull Run was supposed by many to
be, that we had desecrated the holy Sabbath by our attack. However true
or false such a view may have been, the order we received to-day from
Washington was universally felt to be opportune.
Two days' march brought our advance to Falmouth, and on the twenty-first
General Patrick, our provost-marshal general, was directed to repair to
Fredericksburg under a flag of truce, and request the surrender of the
city. The authorities replied, that while its buildings and streets
would no longer be used by Rebel sharp-shooters to annoy our forces
across the river, its occupation by Yankee troops would be resisted to
the last. Had the means of crossing the river been at hand, General
Burnside would have made hostile demonstrations at once; but through
some misunderstanding between himself and General Halleck, at
Washington, the pontoons were not in readiness.
_November 28._--A strong force of Rebel cavalry, under General Wade
Hampton, dashed across the river at some of the upper fords, raided up
around Dumfries and the Occoquan, captured several prisoners and wagons,
and returned to their side of the river without loss. As a sort of
offset to this, on the twenty-ninth, General Julius Stahel, who
commanded a brigade of cavalry at Fairfax Court House, commenced an
expedition of great daring and success, to the Shenandoah Valley.
Having advanced to Snicker's Gap in the Blue Ridge, a strong Rebel
picket-post was captured by our vanguard. Pressing forward on the main
thoroughfare, they soon reached the Shenandoah river, and were not a
little annoyed by Rebel carbineers, hidden behind old buildings across
the stream. Captain Abram H. Krom, commanding a detachment of the Fifth
New York Cavalry, and leading the advance, dashed across the river,
though deep and the current swift, closely followed by his men. On
reaching the opposite bank, a charge was ordered, and executed in so
gallant a manner that several Rebels were made prisoners, and the
remainder of the squad was driven away at a breakneck speed. Our men
pursued them in a scrambling race for nearly three miles, when they came
upon a Rebel camp, which was attacked in a furious manner. Our boys made
noise enough for a brigade, though only a squadron was at hand. The
enemy attempted a defence, but utterly failed. Reenforcements coming to
our aid, the Rebels were thoroughly beaten and driven away, leaving in
our hands one captain, two lieutenants, thirty-two privates, one stand
of colors, and several wagons and ambulances. Most of these were laden
with booty taken by White's guerillas in a recent raid into Poolesville,
Maryland. Sixty horses and fifty heads of cattle were also captured in
this gallant charge. With all their spoils the expedition returned, via
Leesburg, arriving at their camps in safety.
But all eyes were turned expectantly towards Fredericksburg, with its
two vast armies preparing for a grand encounter. Nearly all the
citizens of the city had left their homes and fled southward. While
General Burnside waited for his pontoons, General Lee was fortifying the
Heights in rear of the city, and concentrating his forces for the
anticipated onset. This state of things was greatly regretted.
_December 11._--The laying of the pontoons commenced in the night, but
the task was only partially performed when daylight made the sappers and
miners at work a fair mark for the sharpshooters, who were hidden among
the buildings which lined the opposite shore, and whose numbers had
largely increased within a few days. Battery after battery was opened on
Falmouth Heights, until not less than one hundred and fifty guns, at
good range, were belching fire and destruction upon the nearly
tenantless city, and still the sharpshooters prevented the completion of
the pontoons, and disputed our crossing. At this critical moment the
Seventh Michigan regiment of infantry immortalized their names. Failing,
after some entreaty, to secure the assistance of the engineer corps to
row them across, they undertook the perilous labor themselves, and amid
the rattling of bullets and the cheers and shouts of our own men, they
reached the opposite shore, with five of their number killed, and
sixteen wounded, including Lieutenant-Colonel Baxter. They immediately
dashed through the streets of the city, and being quickly reenforced by
other regiments, they soon cleared the rifle-pits and buildings adjacent
to the stream of all annoyance. Foremost among the noble men who
performed this heroic work was the Rev. Arthur B. Fuller, chaplain of
the Sixteenth Massachusetts infantry, who was killed by a rifle-shot.
Our pontoons were now laid in quietness to the city; and about three
miles below General Franklin laid his pontoons without opposition.
Several bridges were thus constructed, and before night the main body of
infantry and cavalry filed across the river, preparatory to a grand
engagement. On the twelfth General Bayard moved his cavalry down the
river six miles, and was posted on picket. Several shots were exchanged
with the Rebel pickets during the day, and the demon of fight seemed to
exist everywhere.
_December 13._--The night had been cold, and the morning was dimmed by a
heavy fog which covered friend and foe. But orders for an attack upon
the formidable works of the enemy had been given, and even before the
mist arose, General Gibbon opened fire with his heavy artillery, which
was responded to, but without much effect, owing to the fog, which,
however, disappeared about eleven o'clock. The engagement now became
general, and the fighting was of a character more desperate and
determined than ever known before.
The line of Rebel fortifications was so far back from the river, that
our artillery, posted on the Falmouth Heights, was out of range, and
made more havoc in our advancing ranks than in the ranks of the enemy,
until the fire was silenced by order of General Burnside. About one
o'clock, one of the most brilliant movements of the day was performed by
General George G. Meade's division, which by a terrific charge, gained
the crest of the hill, which was near the key of the position. But not
being sufficiently supported, they were compelled to retire, bringing
away several hundred prisoners with them.
Another masterpiece of gallantry was presented nearer the town, at
Marye's Heights, where General Meagher's Irish Brigade repeatedly
charged the Rebel works, until at least two-thirds of his stalwart men
strewed the ground, killed and wounded. Brigade after brigade was
ordered to take these heights, and though their ranks were mown down
like grass before the scythe, in the very mouth of Rebel guns the effort
was again and again made. Midway up the Heights was a heavy stone wall,
behind which lay the hosts of the enemy, who delivered their fire with
scarcely any exposure, sweeping down our columns as they approached.
This hillside was completely strewn with our dead and disabled, and at
length our assailing ranks retired, compelled to abandon their futile
and murderous attempts. But in the language of General Sumner, "they did
all that men could do." This could be applied to all the troops engaged.
Night at length threw her sable mantle over the bloody field, covering
in her sombre folds the stiffened corpses and mangled forms of not less
than fifteen thousand dead and wounded, including the casualties of both
armies.
Not one of all our dead fell more lamented than Major-General George D.
Bayard, who was struck by a shrieking shell, dying early in the evening.
He was only twenty-eight years of age, of prepossessing appearance and
manners, with as brave a heart as ever bled for a weeping country, and a
capacity of mind for military usefulness equal to any man in the
service. Gradually he had arisen from one position of honor and
responsibility to another, proving himself tried and true in each
promotion, while his cavalry comrades especially were watching the
developments of his growing power, with unabating enthusiasm. But "death
loves a shining mark," and our hero, with his own blood, baptized the
day which had been appointed for his nuptials. The recital of his early
death brought tears to many eyes, and caused many a loving heart to
bleed.
"Death lies on him like an untimely frost--
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field."
The night following this bloody conflict was horrible in the extreme.
Every available spot or building in the city was sought for a hospital,
to which the wounded were brought on stretchers by their companions. Now
and then there came a poor fellow who was able to walk, supporting with
one hand its bloody, mangled mate. At times two men might be seen
approaching through the darkness, supporting between them their less
fortunate comrade, whose bloody garments told that he had faced the foe.
But many of our hospitals proved to be very unsafe refuges, into which
Minie balls and broken shells would come rattling, and in some instances
destroying the precious lives that had escaped--though not without
suffering--the terrible and deadly shock of battle. Many of the wounded
were taken across the river, and made perfectly safe and as comfortable
as circumstances would permit. The Sanitary and Christian Commissions
rendered very effective service, enshrining themselves in the memory of
a grateful people. Their deeds of charity and mercy can never be
forgotten. By their timely supplies and personal labors many lives were
saved, and thousands of the wounded were comforted.
_December 14._--The light of this holy Sabbath was hailed with gladness
by many a poor soldier, who had suffered from the chill of the night
alone upon the bloody field. The weather, however, is unusually clement
for this season of the year. A little firing occurred this morning, but
no general engagement resulted. This was greatly feared, for had General
Lee advanced upon us, it is difficult to see how our men, though
somewhat covered by the fire of our batteries from Falmouth Heights,
could have recrossed the stream without fearful loss. But both armies
spent most of the holy day in the sacred task of caring for the wounded
and burying their dead. Monday was also spent mostly in the same
employment, and in the night, so skilfully as to be unknown even to the
Rebel pickets, our whole army was withdrawn to the north side of the
river in perfect order and without loss. Our pontoons were then taken
up.
General Burnside was not willing to remain totally idle, and, after some
time had elapsed, he planned another grand movement, which, with more or
less opposition from his subordinates, who did not confide in his
judgment, he endeavored to execute. But he had just taken the first step
in the programme when he was signaled to desist by a telegram from the
President, who had been informed that the temper of the army was not
favorable to a general move under its present commander.
With the battle of Fredericksburg terminated the campaign of 1862, and
the two great armies established their winter quarters facing each other
along the line of the Rappahannock. Our camps extend for several miles
along the northern shore above and below Falmouth, and the enemy occupy
the south bank above and below the Heights of Fredericksburg. Indeed,
nearly the whole territory between the Rappahannock and the Defences of
Washington, a dark, forsaken, wilderness region, with only here and
there a plantation or a village, was soon converted into a vast camping
ground, and became the most populous section of Virginia.
To avoid the distant transportation of forage, the greater portion of
the cavalry is encamped near Belle Plain, where government transports
land with supplies from Washington. The Harris Light has established its
camp on the Belle Plain and Falmouth Turnpike, about four miles from the
former place, and has named it "Bayard," in honor of our lamented
commander, whose fall at Fredericksburg is still a subject of universal
sorrow.
It is wonderful to witness how the forests are disappearing in and
around our camps. From morning till night the chopmen's axes resound
from camp to camp, echoing dolefully along the river-shore and far back
into the dense, dark woods. Soon after the battle of Fredericksburg, as
we had no quarters, and nothing but worn and torn shelter-tents, our
only way to prevent freezing at night was to cut and heap together a
large number of logs, which, though green, when fully ignited made a
rousing fire. These fires, numerously built in rows throughout the
streets of our camps, presented, especially at night, a most beautiful
and lively scene. The few trees which still remained as shelters were
generally lighted up by our fires into grand chandeliers, reflecting
upon our white tents a weird light of gold and green, which might have
furnished the pen of the romancer, and the pencil of the artist, their
most interesting plots and designs.
Around these fires gathered the comrades of many a march and battle, to
discuss the experiences of the past, to applaud or censure certain men
and measures, and to lay plans, and to entertain rumors with regard to
future operations. The gallantry and merits of companions fallen in
strife were presented by those most intimate with them; and otherwise
dreary hours were pleasantly whiled away with narratives of personal
encounters, of terrible sufferings of prisoners while in the hands of
the enemy, and of hair-breadth escapes. These accounts were generally
enlivened with extra coloring drawn from the enchanting and fairy-like
scenes which surrounded the speaker, and an entire group was thrilled
and electrified until frequently the night was made to ring with
uproarious applause. Occasionally the friends and home scenes we have
left behind us became the subjects of conversation, and it is
astonishing how that word "home," with its hallowed associations,
touches the tender feelings of our hearts. These colloquies often ended
with the good old hymn, "Home, sweet home," and with the sound of the
last bugle-call we hastened to our rest, to spend, it may be, a
miserable night of cold and storm.
No soldier can ever forget these camp and bivouac scenes, for they are
deeply photographed upon his memory. He will often recall their
ludicrous as well as romantic side, when the mud was knee-deep and over,
up to within a few feet of the fire, compelling him often to stand so
near the burning pile as to set his clothes on fire. In very cold
weather he would freeze one side while the other burned, unless he
frequently performed that military feat, changing "his base of
operations." If the wind blew, making his fantastic gyrations among the
tents, so that you never knew whence he would come nor whither he would
go, you were sure to get your face smoked horribly.
With thousands of camps thus circumstanced, it may be conjectured that
no little amount of fuel would suffice us. At first the trees were cut
down without much regard to the height of the stumps, but as the forest
receded from the camps, making transportation difficult, the stumps were
dug up by the roots, leaving the ground perfectly smooth, and made ready
for the ploughman, whenever our swords are beaten into ploughshares and
our battle spears into pruning hooks. And besides the consumption of
wood for fires, no little amount is used for the construction of our
houses or huts. Nearly every man has suddenly become a mason or a
carpenter, and the hammer, the axe, and the trowel are being plied with
the utmost vigor, if not with the highest skill. Many of us, however,
are astonished at the ingenuity that is displayed in this department.
Large logs, notched at the ends so as to dovetail together, and
sometimes hewn on the inside, compose the body of the hut. By the
careful application of mud--that Virginia mortar or plaster with which
every soldier is so familiar--to the crevices between the logs, a very
comfortable structure is made ready for its covering and occupancy.
Shelter-tents, buttoned or sewed together, form the roof, which, by the
aid of talmas or ponchoes, is generally made water-proof.
Three or four men usually unite in the construction of a hut, and share
one another's skill and stores. If they can afford it, they purchase of
the sutlers small sheet-iron stoves, which will keep them very
comfortably warm, and afford them an opportunity to do their own cooking
on extra occasions, such as come with the issues of supplies from the
Christian or Sanitary Commissions, or the reception of boxes from
friends at home. The ordinary cooking of a company is done by men
detailed for that purpose. Often good fire-places and chimneys are
erected in the tents. These are sometimes made of sticks of wood laid in
thick mud, or of stones or bricks taken from the foundations and remains
of buildings that have been destroyed in the neighborhood of our camps.
Every means is resorted to which Yankee ingenuity can devise to make our
soldier-homes as comfortable and convenient as possible. Punch says,
"that a Yankee baby will creep out of his cradle, take a survey of it,
invent an improved style and apply for a patent, before he is six months
old," and this he said some time ago; what he would say now, we cannot
tell. If a house has been abandoned by its inmates anywhere within our
lines, it is taken as _prima facie_ evidence that the owners must be
Rebels--and it matters but little whether they are or not so long as the
house stands alone; and in nearly as short a period of time as it takes
to tell the story, the building is torn in pieces, and the materials are
used in the construction of our huts and the stables of our horses.
The dying year left us engaged in these labors.
_January 1, 1863._--The Harris Light was ordered to the Rappahannock,
where we were posted on picket near Port Conway.
The Federal and Rebel pickets have mutually arranged that there shall be
no firing on either side, unless an advance is undertaken. This
agreement is of course among ourselves, neither approved nor disapproved
at headquarters. For several days the most perfect harmony has prevailed
between the blue and the gray. Yankees and Johnnies wash together in the
same stream, procure water to drink and for culinary purposes from the
same spring, and, curious to relate, often read the news from the same
papers. Squads of soldiers from both armies may be observed seated
together on either side of the Rappahannock, earnestly discussing the
great questions of the day, each obstinately maintaining his views of
the matters at issue.
On one occasion a soldier from our ranks took from his pocket a copy of
the _New York Herald_, and read the Union account of one of the great
battles to an attentive crowd of Rebel soldiers. When he had concluded,
up sprang one of the chivalry, who brought to view a dingy copy of
the _Richmond Examiner_, and proceeded to read his side of the story. No
one was offended, and all relished the comparison of views, and then
began to discuss the merits of the two accounts.
[Illustration: CAVALRY PICKETS MEETING IN THE RAPPAHANNOCK.]
During all these interviews trading was the order of the day, and a
heavy business was carried on in the tobacco, coffee, and hard-tack
line. There was also a special demand on the part of the Rebels for
pocket-knives and canteens, these articles evidently being very scarce
in Dixie.
_January 12._--The weather has been very uneven since the year began.
Wind, rain, sleet, and snow, singly and combined, have been our portion,
and as a natural consequence, oceans of mud have thus far given Camp
Bayard a most unwelcome appearance. Our only remedy is to corduroy our
streets, which we do by bridging them with the straightest timber we can
find. Usually this is pine, with which thousands of acres of Virginia
are covered. As it is mostly of a recent growth, averaging about six
inches in diameter, and shooting up to an immense height before you can
reach the branches, it is well suited to our purpose.
Rough as these corduroyed streets are, they are very passable, and
prevent us from sinking with our horses into a bottomless limbo. On the
fourteenth of the month our picket details returned to camp, after being
several days on duty. The weather is becoming delightful. The sun is
often so brilliant and warm that we are compelled to seek shelter in our
tents or in the fragrant shades of the woods. We are reminded of
pleasant April weather in Northern New York. Under this _regime_ of old
Sol, the roads are rapidly improving, and should no adverse change
occur, we may look for some important army movement.
_January 21._--To-day we received two months' pay, and, as is usually
the case on pay-day, the boys are in excellent spirits. Whatever trouble
or difficulty the soldier may have, pay-day is a wonderful panacea, at
least if his pay-roll and accounts are all satisfactory and right. But
the men do not all make the same use of their money. Many on receiving
the "greenbacks" hasten to Adams' Express or despatch an agent, and send
home all the money we can spare. Some repair at once to their tents and
enter upon gambling schemes with cards generally, or other games; and it
is no uncommon thing to hear that some one has lost all he had, and has
gone so far even as to borrow more, in less than twelve hours of the
time he was paid. A small portion of the men visit the sutlers, those
army vampires, whose quarters are converted into scenes of dissipation,
drunkenness, and folly. Men whose families at home are waiting for means
to live, thus waste all their wages, disgrace themselves, and cast their
dependents upon the charities of the cold world.
_January 22._--For about two days the army has been prepared for an
advance across the Rappahannock. To-day the grand movement was
commenced. Several regiments, supposing that they never again would need
their winter huts, have burned or otherwise demolished them. But the
weather, which was fine at the outset, has suddenly changed, and about
ten o'clock at night there poured upon us, untented and unprotected, a
furious storm of rain, sleet, and snow, making our condition almost
unendurable. We are now left in a bed of almost fathomless mire. None of
the men who flounder through these oozy roads, under the inclement sky,
will ever forget the "Muddy March." We had scarcely reached the
river-shore before we were compelled to return. In one instance a piece
of artillery with its horses had to be abandoned, submerged so deeply in
the mud that it was considered impracticable to extricate them. Men are
frequently compelled to assist one another, unable to proceed alone. The
ground is covered with snow, and yet the mud is so deep that it is
almost an impossibility to move artillery or supplies. All our forage
and rations are brought from Belle Plain on horses and pack-mules, all
wheeled vehicles being entirely shipwrecked.
The Rebels appear to understand what had been our designs, and know
fully the cause of our failure in the expedition. Consequently, to
tantalize us, they have erected an enormous sign-board on their side of
the river, but in full view of our pickets, bearing the inscription:
"Stuck in the mud!"
General Burnside, beset on every hand with misfortunes and disasters,
tendered his resignation, but was simply relieved, as at his own
request, from the command of the Army of the Potomac.