BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG.
The first battle in the Peninsular campaign of the Army of the Potomac
was fought at Williamsburg, one of the oldest towns in Virginia. It was
settled in 1632, and was capital of the Colony for many years before
the Revolution. William and Mary's College is there, which was endowed
by the king and queen of England with twenty thousand acres of land,
and a penny on every pound of tobacco sent out of the Colony, and
duties on all the furs and skins. The college buildings were designed
by Sir Christopher Wren, architect of St. Paul's in London.
The colonial governors resided at Williamsburg. The courts were held
there. The government buildings were the noblest in America. The
Governor's residence was a magnificent edifice, with a great estate
of three hundred acres attached, laid out in lawns, parks, groves,
flower-gardens, and peach-orchards. It was intersected by a brook.
There were winding graveled walks, shaded by oaks and lindens.
On public occasions, and on birth-nights, there were grand receptions
at the palace, as it was called, where all the public officers and
gentlemen assembled to pay their respects to the governor. The judges
and counselors, in flowing robes and powdered wigs, the gentlemen of
the Colony in broidered waistcoats, ruffled shirts, buff breeches,
black stockings, and red, yellow, green, blue, or purple coats, with
gold and silver shoe-buckles, and ladies in silks and satins, rode up
in their carriages, driven by coachmen, and attended by footmen in
livery.
During the sessions of the House of Burgesses there were gay times.
The town was filled with visitors. The wealth, fashion, and refinement
of the Colony gathered there. It was there in the House of Burgesses
that Patrick Henry uttered the patriotic sentiment,--"Give me liberty,
or give me death." It was from Williamsburg that Sir William Berkeley
wrote to the King's commissioners, thanking God that there were no
common schools or printing-presses in Virginia. Washington, when but
twenty-one years of age, mounted his horse at the palace-gate, for
his long journey to the head-waters of the Ohio, chosen by Governor
Dinwiddie, out of all the aristocratic families of the Colony, to bear
a message to the French commander in that far-off region; and there,
at the same gate, he dismounted from his horse on the 22d of January,
1754, having faithfully accomplished what he had undertaken.
East of this old town, a small stream, which rises in the center of
the Peninsula, runs southeast and empties into College Creek. Very
near the head-waters of this stream another has its rise, which runs
north to the York River, and is called Queen's Creek. On both streams
there are mills. The main road from Yorktown to Williamsburg runs on
the high land between the head-waters of the creeks. About a mile east
of the town the road forks. General Magruder had thrown up a strong
fortification at that point, which contained thirteen guns, and was
called Fort Magruder. There were ten other earthworks which effectually
commanded the roads, the ravines, and all the approaches from the east.
In pursuing Magruder, General Stoneman, with the cavalry and Gibson's
battery, went up the Yorktown road, and came out of the dense forest
in front of Fort Magruder. The guns opened fire, throwing shells,
which killed and wounded several of the cavalrymen. Gibson brought his
battery into position and replied. The Sixth United States Cavalry
moved on towards the fort, but were met by infantry and cavalry, and
were compelled to fall back with the loss of thirty men. Gibson was
obliged to move his guns, for the batteries in the fort had the range
of his position. The mud was deep, and one of the guns sunk to the
axle. The horses tugged and pulled, but they also sunk. Other horses
were added, but the ground was marshy, and gun and horses went still
deeper.
The Rebel gunners saw the confusion, and threw their shells upon the
spot. Some burst harmlessly in the air, some fell into the mud, others
tore up the ground and covered the artillerymen and teamsters with
earth, others burst among the horses and men. The Rebel infantry came
down upon the run, and Captain Gibson was obliged to leave.
The night came on dark and dismal. The rain fell in torrents. The
troops who had been marching all day were drenched. The roads were
narrow and muddy. There was a want of arrangement in the order of
marching, and the divisions became confused. Wagons broke down,
artillery sunk in the mire; but the troops were eager to get at the
enemy, who had eluded their commander, first at Manassas, and now at
Yorktown. They marched, some of them, till midnight, and then, without
kindling a fire, lay down drenched, upon the dead forest leaves, having
had no dinner, and without a supper. The rain-drops dripped from the
trees through the night, but the soldiers were in line at daybreak,
ready to move again in pursuit of the enemy.
General Hooker being in advance upon the Lee's Mills road, came upon
the enemy's pickets posted along a deep ravine above the mill-pond, on
the stream which empties into College Creek.
General Smith's division, when the army advanced from Yorktown, was on
the Lee's Mills road, but it moved towards the north and came in front
of the enemy on the Yorktown road.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG.
1 Hooker.
2 Hancock.
3 Sumner.
4 Longstreet.
5 Hill.
6 Fort Magruder.
7 Williamsburg.]
General Hooker's skirmishers, as soon as they saw the enemy, dashed on
and drove them across the ravine, and approached within musket-shot of
the fort. The artillery in the fort opened with a rapid fire of shells,
but the skirmishers concealed themselves in the underbrush, and gave
so deadly a fire that they silenced the guns. No gunner could show his
head without getting a ball through it.
General Hooker formed his division in line of battle. His first
brigade was commanded by General Sickles, and was composed of the
First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Excelsior regiments from New
York. His second brigade, General Grover's, was composed of the First
and Eleventh Massachusetts, Second New Hampshire, and Twenty-sixth
Pennsylvania. The third brigade was composed of the Fifth, Sixth,
Seventh, and Eighth New Jersey regiments, and was commanded by Colonel
Starr,--in all, about eight thousand men.
The First Massachusetts had the left of the line, then the Second New
Hampshire, Eleventh Massachusetts, with the Twenty-sixth Pennsylvania
on the right. The other brigades did not arrive till nearly noon. They
formed on the left of Grover's brigade, towards the mill-pond.
The Rebel force in position behind the forts is supposed to have been
about thirty thousand, commanded by General Longstreet. A Rebel officer
states that it numbered not over twenty-five thousand.[18]
[Footnote 18: Battle-Fields of the South, by an English Officer in
the Confederate Army. London.]
During the forenoon but a small force confronted General Grover's
brigade, but in the afternoon dark columns appeared south of the fort,
and, advancing down the ravines, crossed the stream above the mill-pond.
They attacked General Hooker's left wing in great force. The
skirmishers were driven in. Bramhall's battery came into position as
the enemy advanced. "Shell with short fuses!" shouted the captain to
his gunners.
The shells exploded in, around, and above the advancing columns, which
still kept coming on. The musketry began,--quick and sharp volleys; yet
the lines came on, across the open space, through the woods.
"Canister and spherical case!" was the order to the gunners. The cannon
spouted a deadly fire, filling the air with terrible hail. The Rebel
lines were checked. Foiled in the attack upon the center, they advanced
once more upon the left flank, and the contest went on with increasing
fury, like the rising of a winter tempest.
Grover and Sickles held their ground tenaciously, but were forced back
inch by inch and step by step.
The contest was in the edge of the forest, over fallen trees, where men
fell headlong in their endeavors to take new positions. The rain was
falling, the ground was miry. The men were worn and weary; but they
fought on, minding not hunger or thirst or exhaustion, calling for
ammunition. Their cartridge-boxes were empty, but they would not turn
their backs upon the enemy, or desert their comrades whose cartridges
still held out.
From noon till four o'clock General Hooker fought unaided. He sent to
Sumner for reinforcements, but Sumner felt that he could not spare any
men from his front. He sent officers to bring up the brigades in the
rear.
General McClellan was at Yorktown, and did not know there was a battle
going on till late in the day.
The Rebels saw that Hooker received no reinforcements, and pressed him
heavily. His troops supporting some of the batteries gave way. The
Rebels came on in a desperate charge, shot the horses, and five cannon
fell into their hands.
"Reinforcements! I want reinforcements!" was Hooker's cry. The
impetuous Kearney, whose division was the last to leave Yorktown, had
heard the roar of battle, and rode ahead of his troops. He was an old
soldier, had stormed the heights of Chapultepec, and was with Louis
Napoleon in the great battle of Solferino. He started back to hasten
forward his division, but it was already advancing.
The brave, energetic, resolute Berry, who commanded one of Kearney's
brigades, met an aide of General Sumner's.
"Who is engaged at the front?" he asked.
"Hooker is at it."
"Is he supported by Sumner?"
"No. Sumner is taking position farther to the right."
The road was filled with teams and troops of other brigades belonging
to Sumner's corps. Berry looked at the blockade a moment, then said to
a captain of one of his batteries,--
"Captain, go ahead and clear the road for my brigade."
"Let the march be upon the double-quick," was the order sent down the
line.
"Clear the road!" was the authoritative order sent up the line. The
troops, the wagons, the artillery, the ambulances, turned aside, and
the brigade went on.
His quick ear caught the sound of musketry,--a constant, steady rattle,
like the pattering of the rain-drops on the dead leaves.
"Throw aside your knapsacks, and place a guard over them," was his
order. The men, panting for breath, came to a halt, threw their heavy
knapsacks into a heap, and went on again, faster than before.
Kearney met them. "You have done well, General," was his salutation to
Berry. He stimulated the men, and fired their ardor with his own wild
enthusiasm. They rushed on through by-paths, across pastures and fields.
Hooker's line was giving way. It had been pushed back a mile, had
lost a portion of its guns, and the exultant enemy were advancing for
a decisive, a finishing stroke. Many had fired their last round of
ammunition, and stood with empty muskets. How earnestly they looked
towards the rear to see if the promised aid was ever to arrive!
Help at last. A dark column comes through the woods upon the run. A
wild, tumultuous cheer rends the air. The men who are ready to drop
from sheer exhaustion, who have confronted the enemy through the
lagging hours, feel new strength as Berry sweeps past them, deploys his
line right and left, and becomes a living barrier between them and the
tide already rolling on over the bloody field. The enemy advances, but
whole ranks go down before the deadly volleys given point-blank into
their faces by that body of men whose brows are wet with the sweat of
their fast running. The breaker is broken. The wave which was ready
to sweep Hooker from the face of the earth, instead of setting onward,
begins to recede. It is beaten down before the fiery breath pouring
like a furnace blast from the three thousand muskets.
The Rebels retreat. Berry advances. His volleys are steady and regular.
Nothing can daunt his men. They feel that they are a power. Kearney
sees that the time has come to decide the day.
"Give them the bayonet!" is the thrilling order which rings along the
line.
An officer, young in years, fair of countenance, polished in manner,
who has traveled at home and abroad, the same who in the silent hours
of the last night at Yorktown wrote his last will and testament, the
adjutant of General Berry, leads the men from Michigan. His voice rings
loud and clear above the wild uproar. The men follow where he leads,
into the leaden rain. They fall by scores, but on--on--on,--over the
bloody field,--over fallen friends and foes,--they press the foe,
regaining the ground, the lost cannon,--the victory!
"You are the hero of the day," said Kearney to Captain Smith, who had
led the charge so gallantly, as he returned and reported for further
duty, his clothes torn by the bullets of the enemy.
While this was transpiring on the left, there was its counterpart on
the right.
General Hancock was detached by General Smith to cross the milldam at
Queen's Creek, and attack the Rebels in that direction. He crossed
the stream with the Sixth Maine, Fourth Wisconsin, Forty-ninth
Pennsylvania, and Forty-third New York, Wheeler's battery, and a
squadron of cavalry.
He came upon a small party of Rebels, who rapidly retreated.
"I can go to Fort Magruder if well supported," was the despatch he sent
back to General Smith.
He could see the fort across the open plain, smoking and flaming and
throwing shells upon Hooker's command. General Smith sent the message
to General Sumner, requesting permission to send supports.
"Stay where you are," was the reply.
Again Hancock sent for permission to go on. Smith sent the request to
Sumner.
"Go," was the welcome answer.
The troops were on the march, when an aide from Sumner stopped the
movement. The Rebels were threatening an attack on the center.
"I want more force to support us. The enemy is coming in superior force
to attack me," was Hancock's third message.
His position was in a field near a farm-house, where the Rebels had
thrown up a square redoubt, which they had abandoned.
From the farm-house to the woods west of it there was a rail-fence.
Hancock threw out his skirmishers towards Fort Magruder, beyond
the farm-house. Wheeler's battery was brought up and placed upon a
knoll near the house. The Fifth Wisconsin and Forty-Third New York
were stationed west of the house behind the fence. The Forty-ninth
Pennsylvania was placed behind the house. Two companies of the Sixth
Maine held the abandoned redoubt, while the other companies of that
regiment were placed in support of the battery.
Two brigades of Rebels marched out from the forest into the field.
Wheeler's battery opened with shells. The Rebels were half a mile
distant, but, notwithstanding the fire, they moved steadily and rapidly
over the intervening space. The skirmishers which had been thrown out
from Hancock returned to the lines. The Rebels were near enough for
canister, and the six pieces of cannon threw it into the advancing
line. The Rebel cavalry dashed upon the Fifth Wisconsin, but only to
lose a dozen men and horses. The infantry were close upon Wheeler, who
covered the hillock with a murky cloud. Suddenly his fire ceased, then
with whip and spur and shout the pieces went to the rear and took a new
position and opened again. The regiments by the fence fell back and
closed up in closer order. The Rebels again advanced, and the musketry
began. The fight was at short range. The battery fired shell, canister,
and shrapnel, and made terrible havoc.
Hancock saw that the moment for decisive action had come. He waved his
cap to his troops. The officers along the line understood the meaning
of the signal. They spoke but one magical word. The men, as if animated
by an electric impulse, moved towards the enemy. Their bayonets became
a gleaming, glittering, bristling, moving hedge. They broke into a run.
Each man felt the enthusiasm of the moment. They heeded not the deadly
volleys, but went on through the storm, with a cheer louder than the
roar of the battle.
The Rebels did not wait to receive the blow, but fled in confusion from
the field.
It was a glorious moment. Berry at that instant was throwing in a
living barrier against the flood which had swept Hooker back. The
battle was won. Night came on. It had rained through the day, and the
men, victorious at last, lay down to sleep upon the field, while the
Rebels fled towards Richmond, leaving several cannon, many wagons, and
several hundred of their wounded in Williamsburg.
The total Union loss was two thousand two hundred and eighty-eight. The
loss to the Rebels was from two thousand five hundred to three thousand.
"Our loss amounted to about two thousand five hundred," says the
chaplain of the Fourth Texas.
When the news of the battle reached Richmond there was great
consternation, which was increased by the news of the blowing up of the
Merrimack on the morning of the 11th of May.
"In the President's mansion about this time all was consternation and
dismay," says Pollard, the Southern historian.[19]
[Footnote 19: Southern History of the War, Vol. II. p. 31.]
Jefferson Davis's niece wrote a letter to a friend in Vicksburg, but
the mail-bag was captured by the Yankee pickets.
"General Johnston," said the young lady, "is falling back from the
Peninsula, and Uncle Jeff thinks we had better go to a safer place than
Richmond. O mother! Uncle Jeff is miserable. He tries to be cheerful
and bear up against such a continuation of troubles, but oh! I fear he
cannot live long, if he does not get some rest and quiet.
"Our reverses distressed him so much, and he is so weak and feeble, it
makes my heart ache to look at him. He knows that he ought to send his
wife and children away, and yet he cannot bear to part with them, and
we all dread to leave him too. Varina and I had a hard cry about it
to-day.
"O, what a blow the fall of New Orleans was! It like to have set us all
crazy here. Everybody looks depressed, and the cause of the Confederacy
looks drooping and sinking; but if God is with us, who can be against
us? Our troops are not doing as well as we expected.... The regiments
most apt to run are from North Carolina and Tennessee.... I am afraid
that Richmond will fall into the hands of the enemy, as there is no way
to keep back the gunboats. James River is so high that all obstructions
are in danger of being washed away, so that there is no help for the
city....
"Uncle Jeff was confirmed last Tuesday in St. Paul's Church, by Bishop
Johns. He was baptized at home, in the morning, before church."[20]
[Footnote 20: Southern History, Vol. II. p. 31.]
The Confederate Congress adjourned hastily. They sent off their
families. The railroad trains going out were crowded with passengers.
The public documents were boxed up and sent away. Mrs. Jefferson Davis
took down her window-curtains, tore up the carpets, packed her silver
plate and pictures, and left the city.[21] The Treasury Department
removed its printing-presses to Georgia, and everybody prepared to
leave the city, which they feared was doomed to fall into the hands of
the Yankees.
[Footnote 21: Estvan's War Pictures from the South, p. 271.]
When the Merrimack was blown up, the James River was open to the
gunboats to Fort Darling, within ten miles of Richmond. The fort
mounted four guns. Three of the gunboats bombarded it on the 13th, but
were not able to silence the guns.
General McClellan's transports were at Yorktown and Fortress
Monroe,--an immense fleet. His army was within five miles of the James.
It will be for the future historian to inquire whether the army ought
not to have been sent up the James instead of the Chickahominy.
After the battle of Antietam, a wounded Rebel officer who was
left behind when Lee retreated, and who was General Magruder's
Adjutant-General, conversed freely upon the Peninsular campaign.
"We were very much surprised at Yorktown," he said, "when we saw
General McClellan make preparations for a siege."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, for we were ready to retreat at any moment. We had only a handful
of men compared with his great army."
"How many men had Magruder at that time?"
"Not more than nine thousand and five hundred fit for duty, and they
were strung out on a line thirteen miles long, from Gloucester to James
River. If General McClellan had acted with vigor, and pushed our center
as soon as he landed, he could have trampled us all down in the mud."
"But you had a large number of cannon, which swept the approaches, and
could have inflicted great damage."
"He could have covered his real attack by feints on distant parts of
the line, and Magruder's force was so small that he could not have
resisted an earnest attack. The woods were so dense that McClellan
could have effectually concealed all his movements."
"Some of General McClellan's officers were in favor of advancing at
once."
"It was, in my judgment, if you will allow a Rebel to criticise your
generals," said the officer with a smile, "his first mistake."
"Then you think it was a mistake on the part of General McClellan."
"Yes, for Lee's army had not reached us. Every day's delay on the
part of General McClellan gave us reinforcements. It gave us time
to fortify Richmond. The Confederate army was much reduced at that
time. The term of enlistments of many regiments had expired, and the
Conscription Act had not been enforced. The fortunes of the Confederacy
at that time were not very bright, I must confess. Even the Confederate
Congress closed its session and left Richmond, and, had it not been for
McClellan's delay and the energy with which troops from all quarters
were conscripted and rushed into Richmond, it would have gone hard with
us. And when we evacuated Yorktown, General McClellan did not do as I
should have done, had I commanded you Yankees."
"Ah! how so?"
"The Virginia, or the Merrimack, as you call her, was blown up on the
10th. It was a bitter pill to us, and if I were Jefferson Davis I would
hang old Huger, who commanded at Norfolk, for his cowardly conduct
in evacuating the place. When the Merrimack was destroyed, General
McClellan, instead of following us up the Peninsula through the mud,
ought to have re-embarked his troops and made all haste up the James.
Your gunboats went up to Fort Darling and got smashed, but if he had
landed below the Fort he could have carried it from the rear with his
infantry, for we had few troops there. He could have then brought his
gunboats to Richmond ahead of us who were paddling in the mud of the
Chickahominy."
"I suppose that General McClellan did what he thought was best at the
time."
"Probably; but it happened to be the very best movement he could have
made for us," said the officer, with a smile.
There was much suffering in the hospitals on the Peninsula. The medical
department was not well organized, but the delegates of the Christian
and Sanitary Commissions were present, and saved the lives of many men.
They saw a soldier in a tent one day who was fast passing away. He had
fought his last battle with the enemy of his country. He was a noble
man, but he was worn out by disease. He had worked in the slimy swamps,
on the fortifications, and was covered with filth. He had lost all his
strength, and was so weak that he could not raise his hand to his head.
They washed him, changed his clothing, lifted him from the damp ground
and placed him on a cot, gave him nourishing food, talked to him of
home, of mother, of Jesus, his best friend, of a better world. The
soldier tried to thank them, but was too weak to articulate the words.
He could only take the chaplain's hand, press it to his cheek, and
bathe it with tears of gratitude.
Thus the friends at home, by their Christian sympathy and charity,
sustained and comforted the brave defenders of their country, in their
last hours.