AT COLD HARBOR.
At one o'clock we were ordered to the left, and moved by the left
flank. The heat was intense, and the roads dusty. After marching about
two miles that portion of the corps which had left the line was massed
in an open field near General Meade's head-quarters, in rear of the
Fifth Corps right. Almost as soon as we halted we were overtaken by a
furious shower, which soon settled into an easterly storm. The rain
poured in torrents, and each one was sheltering himself as much as
possible, when the enemy made an attack. Rhodes' division of Ewell's
corps, supported by Hill and Gordon, had been thrown forward along
the road from Hundley's Corner, and had struck the skirmish line that
covered our flank. The corps was at once put in position to resist
the enemy's advance. The movement was on open ground, and the only
corps manœuvre we had witnessed during the campaign. It was directed
by General Burnside in person. The corps moved in three long lines by
division fronts, and presented a splendid spectacle. It was a review
under fire. When we came into position the First Division was in the
front, on high ground near Bethesda Church. The Second and Third
Divisions supported the First. Two batteries of artillery opened upon
the advancing enemy, who replied with artillery and musketry, and for
a time there was a brisk duel. The attack of the enemy was handsomely
repulsed, although, in the surprise occasioned by his first attack upon
the skirmish line of the First Division, he succeeded in capturing a
large number of prisoners. Toward dusk the division was moved by the
right flank to extend the line of battle in that direction, and a line
of rifle-pits was thrown up. Later in the evening we advanced farther
to the right and front, where the brigade was massed, and ordered to
bivouac for the night. The men had hardly time to roll themselves in
their blankets when the Thirty-sixth was sent for to prolong the line
of the Second Brigade. It was raining hard when the regiment moved out.
We halted in rear of the left of the Second Brigade line, which formed
the extreme right of the army. In front of us and to the left was a
line of deserted intrenchments, which the regiment was now ordered to
occupy. This was a very hazardous operation. We were ignorant of the
position, but knew that the enemy was in the immediate vicinity, if
not in the very works we were ordered to occupy. Not a ray of light
illumined the more than midnight darkness. The trees were dripping with
moisture and every drop sounded like a footfall. As discovery would
frustrate the entire plan, the men were sent in singly, each being
cautioned to move quietly. We were obliged to use the utmost vigilance,
and as it was, we drew some shots in moving in. We soon discovered the
enemy to be on the other side of our line of pits, but a little on our
left. A long, anxious night followed, a fitting prelude to the fearful
day to follow.
We now fully comprehend what then we could not clearly understand.
Of the previous movements we had been able to form some conception;
but the operations since crossing the Pamunkey, conducted rapidly in
jungles, swamps, and labyrinths of forest; in storm and darkness; by
marches and countermarches, advances and withdrawals,--all seemed to
us to be without consistent plan or purpose. But these operations
had been necessary to develop the strong position of the enemy along
the line of the Chickahominy, covering the railroad approach and the
principal roads leading to Richmond. The only direct path to the
Confederate capital lay across this noted stream, which one writer says
may be regarded as a wet ditch in front of the outer fortifications
of Richmond. In order to further advance upon his chosen line, it was
necessary for General Grant to force a passage of this stream. The
enemy's position along its front was so strong and unassailable that no
course seemed open except to extend the left, and, by a movement lower
down, outflank his right, and endeavor to pass the Chickahominy at Cold
Harbor.
On the first day of June Grant sent the Sixth Corps and other troops to
take possession of Cold Harbor at the left extremity of the line, it
being the junction of important roads leading to White House Landing,
Dispatch Station, Hanover, and Richmond. It commanded these divergent
roads, and was of particular importance, as it covered the road leading
to the base of supplies at White House. The place was occupied after
a sharp struggle, and the severe attack of the enemy to repossess
the place had been handsomely repulsed. That evening General Grant
determined there to force the passage of the Chickahominy, and drive
Lee's army within the intrenchments of Richmond. For this purpose the
Second Corps had been withdrawn from our right, and massed on the left
during the night of the 1st. The enemy had detached correspondingly
to his right, and the terrific shower in the afternoon, while it
interrupted Grant's plan of attack, did not prevent the enemy from
crowding all his available troops toward Cold Harbor, and perfecting
his arrangements for defence. Our line was now being contracted and
prepared to attack. Though the manœuvre during the afternoon had been
intercepted, the enemy had gained no special advantage in following up
our movement. Our line extended from near Bethesda Church on the right,
to the Dispatch Station road at Barker's Mills on the left, a distance
of about six miles. The Second Corps was now on the extreme left, the
Second Division of the Ninth Corps held the extreme right. We were on
historic ground. Two years before this had been the scene of several
of the great battles between the armies of Lee and McClellan, with the
positions, however, somewhat changed. That soil had drank the blood of
thousands of our gallant comrades; it was again to drink the blood of
thousands more.
The orders had been issued for a general assault along the entire line
at daybreak, and the final preparations were now being made. As we have
already said, the night was stormy and intensely dark. The men had
no shelter, and could not sleep, and suffered much discomfort. Just
before day the regiment, with one or two others of the Second Brigade,
was withdrawn from the woods and ordered to construct a new line of
breastworks. This work was prosecuted with all possible despatch,
and was nearly completed when, most unexpectedly, the regiment was
ordered to join our own brigade, then forming for attack. Without
a moment's delay, though weary, hungry, and cold, these brave men
leaped the breastworks and formed on the extreme left of the brigade,
joining it on the double-quick. The line was short. The brigade had
dwindled to a handful compared with its former numbers, but for the
beauty and military precision with which it moved across the field
it could challenge no superior in any corps of the army. The enemy's
heavy skirmish line was posted in the edge of the forest, and, as we
approached the woods, opened a sharp fire. Our rapidly advancing line
caused them hurriedly to withdraw. As we neared the woods a withering
volley swept the line. At the first fire the brave Color-Sergeant,
Adams E. French, of Company D, who had borne the national colors in
all the battles of the campaign, received a mortal wound, and fell
in the line. The hands of the gallant Corporal Stevens, of Company
K, caught the flag, and it did not reach the ground. The regiment
pressed forward under a galling fire, pressing toward the right, and
the enemy was driven rapidly across a creek, through a swampy morass,
over a ridge, and into their strong intrenchments, within a few yards
of the Shady Grove road, upon which was their main line. It was with
great difficulty that a line could be maintained in the dense jungle
under such a deadly fire. It was Spottsylvania over again. We were
even nearer to the enemy's works. Captain Barker, commanding the
regiment, looked to the connection on the right, while Captain Smith
gave attention to the left. As we moved forward, a rise of ground in
our front afforded slight protection; but when we reached the crest the
fire was terrific. The men held up to the work nobly. Comrades were
falling on every side, and very few escaped without slight bruises, or
having clothing cut by flying balls.
The right of the brigade encountered a strong line of works in open
ground, covered by artillery in position, which could not be overcome.
We on the left were exposed to the fire from the enemy's intrenched
line, not ten rods distant, and our flank was entirely exposed to a
heavy cross-fire. Having no support, it was impossible to advance
or retire. As at the Wilderness and Spottsylvania, we were on the
extreme left, with no protection on that flank. The enemy's line was
longer than ours, and as the shots came in from the flank, with the
recollection of those dread days fresh in mind, two companies, B and K,
were deployed far to the left to keep up a show of numbers, and prevent
a surprise on the part of the enemy. The ammunition was soon exhausted,
and the cartridge-boxes of the killed and wounded comrades were emptied
for a fresh supply. We were ordered not to give an inch of ground. Men
crawled to the rear and rolled fallen trees and logs up the slope to
the top of the crest, and loosened the soil with their bayonets, and
scooped up the earth with tin cups and plates, until inch by inch they
secured some protection. As soon as a slight cover was raised, and the
supply of ammunition replenished, a close and deadly fire was opened
on the rebel line in response to their murderous volleys. The colors
were placed upon the works, and during the day were flying in the face
of the enemy. In our advance the enemy opened upon us with four pieces
of artillery posted in an earthwork. Our attack was made with so much
dash and vigor that the right of the brigade secured a position which
commanded the enemy's guns and prevented them from using the pieces.
Two caissons were blown up, many of the men and horses were killed by
our fire, and the guns stood silent and harmless throughout the day.
Meanwhile we were exposed to a merciless fire from the rebel
sharp-shooters, who were stationed in the tops of trees within their
works; but after a few hours we got their range, and were enabled to
inflict some damage, which had the effect to slacken their fire. Late
in the forenoon General Griffin's brigade, in moving around our right,
secured a position from which it could make a successful advance, and
force the enemy across the Shady Grove road. An attack was ordered, to
be delivered at one o'clock, and preparations were made to advance at
that time, in connection with an attack by our entire corps; but before
that hour the order was countermanded on account of the failure of the
assault along the left, at Cold Harbor.
Early in the afternoon, and again toward night, the enemy opened a
furious fire on our brigade, under cover of which they attempted to
draw off their artillery by _prolonge_; but our men had such perfect
range, and poured in such a close fire, that their object could not
be accomplished. At sunset a brigade of the First Division moved up
and connected with our left, and Companies B and K returned to their
original position in the line of battle. At nightfall videttes were
posted, and thus ended a dark and bloody day.
The loss in our brigade had been especially severe. Many of its
best officers and bravest soldiers had fallen before that fearful
fire, and had fought their last battle. The loss in the regiment was
proportionately greater than at the Wilderness or Spottsylvania; in
fact, it was the most destructive battle in which we were ever engaged.
As nearly as can be ascertained we carried into action that morning
eight commissioned officers and two hundred enlisted men. From that
short line we lost eight killed and forty-nine wounded, ten of them
mortally--a total of fifty-seven. Seven of this number belonged to the
Forty-sixth New York detachment. Of the commissioned officers Captain
Barker, commanding regiment, and First Lieutenant Burrage were wounded
by minie balls, the former in the arm, the latter in the shoulder.
Captains Smith and Ames were struck, but not seriously injured. The
proportion of non-commissioned officers, killed and wounded, was very
large. The regiment was deprived, also, of some of its bravest and most
faithful men. One of the first to fall was Color-Sergeant French, of
Company D. He had won a reputation for bravery and coolness of which
any soldier might be proud. During the entire campaign he had carried
the national color through leaden hail, and on long and weary marches,
never for a moment flinching in the face of danger, hunger, thirst,
or weariness. While the line was securing a foothold in front of the
enemy's works, we experienced the most terrific fire, and sustained
the severest loss. It was there that nearly all the brave men who fell
went down. It was there that we lost Acting Sergeant Major Humes, who
was struck down by a mortal wound in the chest, while he was bravely
cheering on the men. He had rejoined the regiment but three weeks
before, having been on recruiting service at home; but in that brief
time he had won the esteem and confidence of all by his cool, intrepid
bearing. The heaviest loss fell upon Company D. Its loss of nine men,
four of whom were mortally wounded, was a repetition of Spottsylvania.
Although inured, as the regiment was, to scenes of blood and carnage,
to loss and toil and suffering, the sacrifices of this dark day could
not be recounted in any spirit other than that of deep sorrow and pain.
The "faithful unto death" were mourned as on no previous day by the
little remnant who survived. It seemed to us that they were too brave
and good and noble to fall in the dark hour of battle in those dripping
woods, without the knowledge or the hope even of success. Every company
had lost some of its best and most faithful men; some who had been in
every scene of strife hitherto, and whose calm, hopeful, and even happy
spirits had often cheered and sustained the despondent, and imparted
fresh life and courage to those who were ready to faint. They would be
missed in every added battle, in every hour of future trial and gloom.
The regiment would never again seem quite the same without them; the
lonely picket would be more lonely, the long marches longer and more
fatiguing, the camp-fire and bivouac less cheerful, because they had
gone. But the sudden rupture of earthly ties could not and cannot sever
the bond that united the living and the valiant dead; and we thought
of them that night as more than ever comrades bound to us by ties of
battle-blood.
It had been a disastrous day, not alone to our regiment, but to the
entire army. The assault along the whole line had been repulsed. No
advantage had been gained, and the loss was upwards of ten thousand men.
The names of our killed and wounded in this battle are as follows:--
_Wounded._--Captain Thaddeus L. Barker, commanding regiment, arm;
Lieutenant Henry S. Burrage, shoulder.
_Company A._ _Died of Wounds._--Joseph A. Humes, (acting
Sergeant-Major). _Wounded._--Privates Charles H. Robinson, John J.
Thornton, Joseph W. Chase.
_Company B._ _Killed._--Private John S. Rackliffe. _Wounded._--Sergeant
Charles Raymond; Corporals John Lamont, L. Porter Abbott; Private John
T. Priest (leg amputated).
_Company C._ _Wounded._--Private George W. Wood.
_Company D._ _Died of Wounds._--Sergeant Adams E. French
(Color-Sergeant); Corporal Roland N. White; Privates George A. Raymond,
Francis L. Whitney. _Wounded._--Corporal Cyrus Alger; Privates Stephen
H. Patterson, William J. Barrus, J. Monroe Rich, Daniel W. Chase.
_Company E._ _Wounded._--First Sergeant Bela B. Tiffany; Corporal
Henry Macomber; Privates George Fletcher, George D. Shaw, Edward Waters.
_Company F._ _Killed._--Corporal Edwin A. Martin; Private John Keenan.
_Wounded._--Sergeant Benjamin F. Montague; Corporals John J. Higgins,
Orrick H. Adams.
_Company G._ _Killed._--Corporal Andrew Moore; Privates Frank Chenery,
William A. Dunn. _Died of Wounds._--First Sergeant Livingston Mower;
Private Estes E. Elliott. _Wounded._--Privates Andrew Adams, Lyman F.
Partridge.
_Company H._ _Wounded._--First Sergeant, Philip G. Woodward (commanding
company), Sergeant J. Hervey Miller; Private Josiah Foster.
_Company I._ _Killed._--Private Elijah H. Woodbury.
_Wounded._--Corporal Watson Wilson; Privates, Davis B. Engly, John
McGrath, George I. Carter.
_Company K._ _Died of Wounds._--First Sergeant Charles K. Avery;
Privates Albert C. Smith, John Flynn. _Wounded._--John Doyle.
Killed and died of wounds:--
Enlisted men 17
Wounded,--Commanding officers 2
Enlisted men 31
--
Total 50
The detachment of the Forty-Sixth New York Regiment serving with the
Thirty-Sixth Regiment lost one man killed and six wounded.
We expected to be relieved at night, having had no sleep for
forty-eight hours; but, after waiting two hours for a fresh brigade to
arrive, we received orders that no relief could be furnished, and that
we must hold the line.
At daylight our videttes reported that the enemy had retired or was
lying low for an attack. They cautiously advanced and found the works
deserted, and a strong reconnoitring party, under Captain Ames, was
sent out to discover their whereabouts. No trace of the enemy could
be discovered; but they had left many dead unburied, and several
wounded on the field, together with much artillery, ammunition, and
several hundred muskets. From the wounded we learned that we had fought
Cook's brigade (five North Carolina regiments), of Heth's Division,
A. P. Hill's corps, and that the regiment opposed to us was the North
Carolina Tigers. Their losses had been more severe than ours. Our fire
had been very destructive, judging from the new-made graves and the
dead found upon the ground. Large numbers of dead horses were found
near the position occupied by their artillery, and the vain endeavor to
drag off the guns must have been very costly to the enemy.
In the afternoon the brigade was withdrawn to the left, and relieved
a portion of Birney's division of the Second Corps, near the Tucker
house. On that day the German detachment of the Forty-sixth New York,
which had been connected with the Thirty-sixth since March 19th,
rejoined their regiment, which had returned to the corps, leaving the
effective strength of our regiment six commissioned officers and one
hundred and sixty-eight enlisted men.
On the evening of the 5th the brigade line was changed. The right was
drawn back and extended, holding the ground near Tucker's. The regiment
worked all night, and by daylight had built a strong breastwork. The
enemy opened a furious artillery fire in the morning from the two
batteries near the Tucker house, but the loss was slight, considering
the range and rapidity of the firing. Among the wounded in this fire
was Solon Carter, of Company A, whose foot was torn off by a shell. He
was one of the coolest and bravest men in the regiment, and bore his
terrible wound with wonderful calmness. A heavy attack was made on the
extended picket line, and the pickets were driven out; but toward night
Captain Holmes went out with a reinforcement and restored the line,
after a sharp skirmish, in which he captured four prisoners belonging
to a North Carolina regiment.
The operations of the 7th were a repetition of those of the 6th on
a more extended scale. The division was exposed to a most furious
shelling from the batteries on the hill, which, however, caused no
loss in our regiment. Captain Smith was brigade officer of the day,
and while out in the afternoon with a large working-party was suddenly
attacked by a strong force of the enemy, who drove in the skirmish
line with a rush. They advanced a line of battle, broke our line, and
captured a portion of the working party, consisting of details from the
Forty-fifth Pennsylvania and Fifty-eighth Massachusetts. Captain Smith
narrowly escaped capture. In the attack Aaron Edmister, of Company B,
was mortally wounded. The enemy did not advance beyond the skirmish
line, and at six o'clock the line was reinforced, and ordered forward,
and General Potter detailed our regiment to support the attack, and
went out with us to retake the hill. We were exposed to a severe fire,
but took shelter behind a rise of ground in our front as we lay in
reserve, and suffered no loss. As we advanced the enemy fell back.
At sunset a truce of two hours prevailed along the contending lines,
excepting on our front, for the purpose of burying the dead. A white
flag was sent out from our brigade head-quarters; but the bearer met
with such a hot fire that he was obliged to return. After the truce the
firing became general along the line.
The regiment remained in line of battle outside our works all night,
and in the morning advanced to support the attack of our skirmish
line. The rebel skirmishers were driven out of the pits, and across
a field, over the top of the hill, into the woods beyond. The hill
was then fortified and held, the entire brigade moving out and going
into position. Later in the day the brigade was moved to the right,
and after several halts went into line on the extreme right of the
division, at nearly a right angle with the line of battle, facing a
wide, open plain, the right resting on an impenetrable swamp. At night
the fire was very sharp and close, and the men were under arms several
times; but, with the exception of the burning of three houses in front
of the lines, nothing unusual occurred.
For four days the regiment occupied this line. Being but little exposed
to the enemy's fire we enjoyed a season of comparative rest and
quiet, when not detailed for duty in the skirmish line. The country
around us was traversed with intrenchments and field-works of every
description, extending in all directions. The duty in the picket pits
was severe. The enemy evidently expected another assault, and were
extremely hostile, narrowly watching every movement within our lines,
and constantly on the alert to detect any changes in our position.
During these days the company had been gradually moved to the left, and
concentrated behind strong intrenchments, until at length preparations
had been completed for another change of base.
On Sunday, the 12th, indications of a general movement prevailed
throughout the corps. Baggage was packed, teams were loaded, rations
issued and cooked. The long, hot summer day passed wearily, and at
dusk Captain Smith was detailed as division officer of the day, and
placed in charge of the picket line, with orders to hold it until
midnight and then withdraw. At half-past eight o'clock the brigade
silently withdrew to the rear, and was soon on the march. The night was
excessively hot, the roads dusty, and the halts were so brief and at
such long intervals that many of the men fell out exhausted. The road
was crowded with troops. The Ninth and Eighteenth Corps marched side by
side,--the latter destined for White House Landing, to embark for City
Point, on James river. About two o'clock in the morning the regiment
lost the right of the brigade, and became merged with the troops of the
Eighteenth Corps, and kept on with them until daylight found us near
White House. At half-past five, after an hour's search, we rejoined the
brigade near Tunstall's Station.
We rested during the forenoon while the corps was concentrating, and
were joined by Captain Smith, and the picket detail. At one o'clock
that afternoon we resumed our march in a southerly direction, through
forest and swamps and across bottom lands. The march was very rapid
and well conducted. We halted at seven o'clock for supper, resumed the
march at eight, and bivouacked at half-past twelve about three miles
from the Chickahominy. Early on the 14th the command was in motion.
At nine o'clock we crossed the Chickahominy, at Jones' bridge, twenty
miles from Richmond. We halted on its banks until noon, when the march
southward was resumed, through a splendid farming country. The elegant
mansions and well-tilled lands presented a beautiful contrast to the
battle-scarred and fortified fields of Cold Harbor. The noble forests
had not yielded to the axes of the engineers, and the blight and
desolation of war were nowhere visible. We marched by way of Charles
City cross-roads and court-house, and halted for supper on the splendid
plantation once the home of ex-President Tyler.
At sunset we were again on the road. At half-past eight we passed the
camps of the Sixth Corps, and the first and third divisions of the
Ninth. The men were gathered in groups around piles of blazing rails,
busily cooking their evening meal; the bands were discoursing patriotic
music, and the whole scene was one of the most striking and magnificent
of war. At half-past nine we went into bivouac on the bank of the
historic James, at a point about three miles below Wilcox's wharf,
having made a laborious and painful, yet most successful, march of
fifty-five miles in less than forty-eight hours.