On to Richmond. Battles at Gains' Mill and Cold Harbor. Fulkerson fell.
Battles of White Oak Swamp, Frazier's Farm, Malvern Hill and Harrison's
Landing. Return to Richmond.
There is no purpose in this narrative to reflect upon the valor and
worth of the Federal soldier or his leaders. This could not truthfully
be done; it was simply a case of Greek meeting Greek, each being worthy
of his foeman's steel. There was, however, a stronger incentive to
heroism for the Confederate because he fought for home and on his own
soil. Aside from this, the greater numbers in equal battle generally
won, slight advantage, however, in such cases usually turned the scale.
By the middle of June Fremont, having heard of Jackson's return to the
valley, began to gather his forces to prevent onslaught on detached
parts of his army; but by skilful use of his cavalry and outposts
Jackson kept him mystified, and hence ignorant of his movements. The
great leader was thus able to withdraw from Fremont's front without his
knowledge, and again passed through Browns and Swift Run Gaps to the
east of the Blue Ridge, thence on to Richmond, a small force being left
in Fremont's front to keep up camp fires to conceal the withdrawal. Our
march was continued along the Virginia Central Railroad which conveyed
to our destination as many soldiers of the advance column as the cars
it could supply would accommodate, then trains would return to meet the
marching columns and reload and convey as before. This was continued
until the army had been assembled near Ashland by the 26th of June,
at which date we left the railroad, moving sharply to the left. Our
progress was slow and cautious.
In the afternoon of the 27th we heard heavy firing some distance to
our right. This was the advance of Hill by way of Mechanicsville and
Beaver Dam, from which positions the Federals were forced back towards
Gains Mill and Cold Harbor, toward which place our column was also
converging. About three o'clock P. M. Hill again struck the enemy to
our right and the battle at once became hot and furious. Our column
being at a halt, I rode a little way to the right and viewed from an
elevation for a brief space of time a part of this battle, half a
mile away. The Confederates by a brilliant charge swept the Federals
from the field, but by a counter charge of fresh Federal troops the
decimated Confederate ranks were in turn forced back over the same open
field, which, however, was quickly recovered by fresh Confederates,
leaving the dead and dying of both sides lying on this bloody field,
promiscuously intermingled. I rejoined the column now moving forward,
which soon again halted. The battle now raged and was rapidly extending
to the right.
At this time an incident occurred which is related here to show how
indifferent to Fate the veteran of many battles becomes when in the
face of battle and probable death, for all now knew we were soon to
enter the bloody contest going on. Near me was a lieutenant of the
regiment, free and easy and not exacting of respect for his rank,
familiarly given the sobriquet, of "Spelling-book." A man of apparent
intelligence and standing came from the direction of the battlefield
toward us. He was of middle age, in evening dress, and wore the
conventional silk hat. His mount was a flea-bitten, gray mare of
sleepy gait; and his black trousers were well divorced from the tops
of his hose. As this unique figure entered the road through the open
fence "Big" John Duff, a humorous young man of the regiment, said to
the lieutenant referred to, "Spelling-book, how are you to-day?" The
gentleman, thinking himself addressed and thinking to ward off the
intended fun at his expense, promptly replied, "Very well, I thank
you, how are you?" This attracted general attention, and the fun
began. A fusillade of wit, humor and burlesque was fired at this poor
defenseless citizen. "Come down out of that hat," "Jump off and grab
a root," "Are you a married man or an Irishman?" "Put sinkers to your
britches. Bandage your legs," and much more badinage was so cruelly
and mercilessly hurled at this object of ridicule who had almost
immediately been silenced that he became livid with mortification and
chagrin. In desperation he began urging his mare forward by violently
digging her sides with his heels, being without spurs or whip. He
succeeded in getting her into a pace along the smooth road between
the lines of soldiers, the gait being the proverbial pacing of half
a day under the shade of a tree. The fun was increased by the boys
whistling, "Pop goes the weazel," in perfect time with the gait of
the mare, and was continued along the line as he progressed. Finally
in desperation he seized his silk hat and began to beat the gray mare
to urge her forward. This frantic effort still further, if possible,
increased the hilarity, and finally after covering a good distance,
enduring an ordeal worse than battle, he turned to the right, entered
the woods and disappeared. How soon was the opposite extreme to follow,
blood, misery and death; for in less than half an hour we were in the
forefront of battle.
We moved forward rapidly and took position in the second or supporting
line and the whole moved forward. The Federals occupied a ridge near
Gains' Mill that dominated the approaches from which they used with
damaging effect their well placed artillery. We had passed Lee and
Jackson on our way and now swept down the long, gentle slope through
shot, shell and minnie balls. Near the base of the ridge we were
impeded by a ravine, about six feet wide and as many feet deep. Here
we met the withering fire of the enemy, but the line in front and we
in turn passed this obstacle, thence up the ridge in the face of a
most stubborn and gallant resistance by the Federals, who at last gave
way and were swept from the field, leaving their dead and wounded. The
sight was ghastly and sickening. Our own loss was not so great. Major
Wheat, leader of the famous New Orleans Tigers, mortally wounded on the
face of the ridge while advancing, said to his men when he fell, "Bury
me where I fall," and immediately expired. His request was complied
with. This statement is based on what was then understood to have
occurred.
Our lines were halted and adjusted near the summit of the ridge and
here night put an end to further pursuit. When quiet came to our ranks
I accompanied my colonel (Fulkerson) to our front to view the ground.
We reached the top of the ridge, but were unable to see, because
of the darkness in the low grounds beyond; but the sky being our
background made us conspicuous targets for the retreating Federals,
hence frequent shots were fired and the balls passed in close proximity
to us. We thought them stray shots, however, until convinced by their
continuance that we were the targets. I had stepped half a dozen paces
from the colonel to a splendid battery of artillery the enemy had been
compelled to abandon, and was speaking to him of the valuable prize.
[Illustration: COL. SAMUEL V. FULKERSON