THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN.

It has been said that "the history of war is a magnificent lie," and

from what we know in our times, particularly of the history of the

Mexican War and of the present Rebellion, if the despatches from the

battle-fields are to be received as history, we are inclined to believe

the saying is true; and it is natural that it should be so. A general

writes his despatches under the highest mental excitement. His troops

have won a great victory, or sustained a crushing defeat; in either

event, his mind is riveted to the transactions that have led to the

result; in the one case, his ambition will prompt him to aspire to a

name in history; in the other, he will try to save himself from

disgrace. He describes his battles; he gives an account of his marches

and counter-marches, of the hardships he has endured, the

disappointments he has experienced, and the difficulties he has had to

overcome. The principal events may be truthfully narrated; but his hopes

of rising a hero from the field of victory, or of appearing a martyr

from one of defeat, will mould his narrative to his wishes.

If it be frequently the misfortune of our generals, in writing their

reports, not to content themselves with the materials at hand, but to

draw on their imaginations, not for gross falsehoods, but for that

coloring which, diffused through their despatches, makes the narrative

affecting, while it leaves us in doubt where to draw the line between

fiction and fact, it is not always so, particularly when their

despatches are not written amidst the excitement of the battle-field,

but are deferred until the events which they describe have passed into

history.

Such, we may suppose, to be the case in respect to the Reports of

Brigadier-Generals Barnard and Barry on the Engineer and Artillery

Operations of the Army of the Potomac. Written, as these Reports were,

after the organization of that army had been completed and the

Peninsular campaign had terminated, by men who, though playing an

important part in its organization and throughout this its first

campaign, yet never aspired to be its heroes, we may reasonably hope,

that, if they have not told the "whole truth," they have told us

"nothing but the truth."

The points of particular interest in these Reports, so far as relates to

organization, are the inauguration of a great system of

field-fortifications for the defence of the national capital, and the

preparation of engineer-equipments, particularly bridge-equipage for

crossing rivers. These are only sketched, but the outline is drawn by an

artist who is master of the subject. The professional engineer, when he

examines the immense fortifications of Washington and sees their

skilful construction, can appreciate the labor and thought which must

have been bestowed on them. He alone could complete the picture. To

appreciate these works, they must be seen. No field-works on so

extensive a scale have been undertaken in modern times. The nearest

approach to them were the lines of Torres Vedras, in Portugal,

constructed by the British army in 1809-10; but the works constructed by

General Barnard for the defence of Washington are larger, more numerous,

more carefully built, and much more heavily armed than were those justly

celebrated lines of Wellington.

And it should not be forgotten, that, after the Battle of Bull Run, we

were thrown on the defensive, and the fortifications of our capital were

called for in a hurry. There were no models, in this country, from which

to copy,--and few, if any, in Europe. Luckily, however, the art of

fortification is not imitative; it is based on scientific principles;

and we found in General Barnard and his assistants the science to

comprehend the problem before them, and the experience and skill to

grasp its solution.

Only the citizens of Washington and those who happened to be there after

the two disastrous defeats at Bull Run can appreciate the value of these

fortifications. They have twice saved the capital,--perhaps the nation;

yet forts are passive,--they never speak, unless assailed. But let

Washington be attacked by a powerful army and successfully defended, and

they would proclaim General Barnard one of the heroes of the war.

As has already been said, the engineer-equipage is only sketched; but

enough is said to show its value. Speaking of the bridges, General

Barnard says,--"They were used by the Quartermaster's department in

discharging transports, were precisely what was needed for the

disembarkation of General Franklin's division, constituted a portion of

the numerous bridges that were built over Wormley Creek during the siege

of Yorktown, and were of the highest use in the Chickahominy; while over

the Lower Chickahominy, some seventy-five thousand men, some three

hundred pieces of artillery, and the enormous baggage-trains of the

army, passed over a bridge of the extraordinary length of nearly six

hundred and fifty yards,--a feat scarcely surpassed in military

history." Pontoons, like forts, cannot talk; but every soldier of the

Army of the Potomac knows that these same bridges, which were prepared

when that army was first organized, have since carried it in safety four

times over the Rappahannock, twice at the Battle of Fredericksburg and

twice again at the Battle of Chancellorsville, and three times over the

Upper Potomac, once after the Battle of Antietam, and again both before

and after the Battle of Gettysburg.

Of the Peninsular campaign General Barnard does not profess to give a

history. He mentions only the operations which came under his

supervision as the Chief Engineer of the Army of the Potomac. The siege

of Yorktown was a matter of engineering skill. General Barnard gives us

his report to General Totten, the Chief Engineer of the Army, on the

engineering operations of the siege,--also his journal, showing the

progress of the siege from day to day. These, with the maps, convey a

very clear idea of the place to be taken, and the way it was to have

been reduced, had the enemy continued his defence until our batteries

were opened; but they do not convey to the mind of any except the

professional engineer the magnitude of the works which were constructed.

General Barnard says that fifteen batteries and four redoubts were built

during the siege, and he gives the armament of each battery. On

comparing this armament with that used in other sieges, we find the

amount of metal ready to be hurled on Yorktown when the enemy evacuated

that place second only to that of the Allies at Sebastopol, the greatest

siege of modern times.

But these batteries, with a single exception, never spoke. Like their

predecessors around Washington, they conquered by their mere presence.

After all the skill and labor that had been bestowed on their

construction, the enemy evacuated Yorktown just as our batteries were

about to open. He was at our mercy. General Barnard says that "the

enemy's position had become untenable,--that he could not have endured

our fire for six hours." We can readily understand how mortifying it

must have been to the Commanding General, and particularly to the

officers of engineers and artillery who had planned, built, and armed

these siege-works, to hear that the enemy had evacuated his

fortifications just at the moment when we were prepared to drive him

from them by force; and we can appreciate the regrets of General

Barnard, when he says, in reviewing the campaign, and pointing out the

mistakes that had been committed, that "we should have opened our

batteries on the place as fast as they were completed. The effect on the

troops would have been inspiring. It would have lightened the siege and

shortened our labors; and, besides, we would have had the credit of

driving the enemy from Yorktown by force of arms; whereas, as it was, we

only induced him to evacuate for prudential considerations." And General

Barry says, in his report of the artillery operations at the siege,--"It

will always be a source of great professional disappointment to me, that

the enemy, by his premature and hasty abandonment of his defensive line,

deprived the artillery of the Army of the Potomac of the opportunity of

exhibiting the superior power and efficiency of the unusually heavy

metal used in this siege, and of reaping the honor and just reward of

their unceasing labors, day and night, for nearly one month."

The next serious obstacle to be overcome, after the siege of Yorktown,

was the passage of the Chickahominy. Here, says General Barnard, "if

possible, the responsibility and labor of the engineer officers were

increased." The difficulties of that river, considered as a military

obstacle, are given in a few touches; but in the sketch of the opposing

heights, and of the intermediate valley, filled up with the stream, the

heavily timbered swamp, and the overflowed bottom-lands, we have the

Chickahominy brought before us so vividly that we can almost _feel_ the

difficulty of crossing it. Well may General Barnard say that "it was one

of the most formidable obstacles that could be opposed to the advance of

an army,--an obstacle to which an ordinary _river_, though it be of

considerable magnitude, is comparatively slight."

The labors of the engineers in bridging this formidable swamp are

detailed with considerable minuteness. Ten bridges, of different

characters, were constructed, though some of them were never used,

because the enemy held the approaches on his side of the river.

We are glad that General Barnard has elaborated this part of his Report.

There is a melancholy interest attaching to the Chickahominy. To it, and

to the events connected with it, history will refer the defeat of

General McClellan's magnificent army, and the failure of the Peninsular

campaign. And what a lesson is here to be learned! The fate of the

contending armies was suspended in a balance. The hour when a particular

bridge was to be completed, or rendered impassable by the rising floods,

was to turn the scales!

That mistakes were committed on the Chickahominy the country is prepared

to believe. Our army was placed astride of that stream, and in this

situation we fought two battles, each time with only a part of our

force; thus violating, not only the maxims of war, but the plainest

principles of common sense.

The Battle of Fair Oaks began on the thirty-first of May. At that time

our army was divided by the Chickahominy. Of the five corps constituting

the Army of the Potomac, two were on its right bank, or on the side

nearest to Richmond, while the other three were on the left bank. There

had been heavy rains, the river was rising, and the swamps and

bottom-lands were fast becoming impassable. None of the upper bridges

had yet been built. We had then only Bottom's Bridge, the

railroad-bridge, and the two bridges built by General Sumner some miles

higher up the river. Bottom's Bridge and the railroad-bridge were too

distant to be of any service in an emergency such as a battle demands.

At the time of the enemy's attack, which was sudden and unexpected,

completely overwhelming General Casey's division, our sole reliance to

reinforce the left wing was by Sumner's corps, and over his two bridges.

It happened to be the fortune of the writer to see "Sumner's upper

bridge,"--the only one then passable,--at the moment the head of General

Sumner's column reached it. The possibility of crossing was doubted by

all present, including General Sumner himself.

The bridge was of rough logs, and mostly afloat, held together and kept

from drifting off by the stumps of trees to which it was fastened; the

portion over the thread of the stream being suspended from the trunks of

large trees, which had been felled across it, by ropes which a single

blow with a hatchet would have severed. On this bridge and on these

ropes hung the fate of the day at Fair Oaks, and, probably, the fate of

the Army of the Potomac too; for, if Sumner had not crossed in time to

check the movement of the enemy down the river, the corps of Heintzelman

and Keyes would have been taken in flank, and it is fair to suppose that

they must have been driven into an impassable river, or captured.

But Sumner crossed, and saved the day. Forever honored be his name!

As the solid column of infantry entered upon the bridge, it swayed to

and fro to the angry flood below or the living freight above, settling

down and grasping the solid stumps, by which it was made secure as the

line advanced. Once filled with men, it was safe until the corps had

crossed. It then soon became impassable, and the "railroad-bridge," says

General Barnard, "for several days was the only communication between

the two wings of the army." Never was an army in a more precarious

situation. Fortunately, however, whatever mistakes we made in allowing

ourselves to be attacked when the two wings of the army were almost

separated, the enemy also committed serious blunders, both as to the

point of his attack and the time when his blow was delivered. His true

point of attack was on the right flank of our left wing. Had the attack

which Sumner met and repulsed been made simultaneously with the assault

in front, a single battalion, nay, even a single company, could have

seized and destroyed "Sumner's upper bridge," the only one, as before

remarked, then passable, Sumner would consequently have been unable to

take part in the battle, and our left wing would have been taken in

flank, and, in all probability, defeated; or, had the attack been

deferred until the next day, or even for several days, as the bridges

became impassable during the night of the thirty-first, it would

probably have been successful.

It is easy to make such criticisms after the events have happened; their

mere statement will carry conviction to the minds of all who were in a

position, during these memorable days, to know the facts that decided

the movements; and it is right that they should be made, for it is only

by pointing out the causes of success or failure in military affairs,

as, indeed, in every human undertaking, that we can hope to be

successful. But, in doing so, we need not confine ourselves to one side

of the question; we may look at our enemies as well as at ourselves. Nor

need they be made in a spirit of censoriousness; for the importance of

individuals, in speaking of such great events, may safely be overlooked

without affecting the lesson we would learn. Neither should it be

forgotten that the general who has always fought his battles at the

right time, in the right place, with the proper arms, and pursued his

victories to their utmost attainable results, has yet to appear. He

would, indeed, be an intellectual prodigy.

Such we may suppose to be the reflections of General Barnard, when he

points out the mistakes which were made in the Army of the Potomac while

on the Chickahominy. He does not, indeed, bring to our view the mistakes

of the enemy. That would have been travelling outside of the record in

the report of the operations falling under his supervision, and such

criticism is wisely left for some of the enemy's engineers, or for a

more general history. In speaking of the difficulties of crossing the

Chickahominy immediately after the battle of the thirty-first of May,

General Barnard says,--"There was one way, however, to unite the army on

the other side; it was to take advantage of a victory at Fair Oaks, to

sweep at once the enemy from his position opposite New Bridge, and,

simultaneously, to bring over by the New Bridge our troops of the right

wing, which would then have met with little or no resistance"; and

again, in a more general criticism of the campaign, he says,--"The

repulse of the Rebels at Fair Oaks should have been taken advantage of.

It was one of those 'occasions' which, if not seized, do not repeat

themselves. We now _know_ the state of disorganization and dismay in

which the Rebel army retreated. We now _know_ that it could have been

followed into Richmond. Had it been so, there would have been no

resistance to overcome to bring over our right wing."

But the "occasion" which the morning of the first of June presented of

uniting the two wings of the army, and thus achieving a great victory,

was not seized, because, as General Barnard says, "we did not then know

all that we now do." At the moment when the New Bridge became passable,

8.15, A. M., it is not probable the Commanding General knew it.

Nor did he know, that, at this very moment, the enemy was retreating to

Richmond in a "state of disorganization and dismay." Besides, the troops

of the left wing had fought a hard battle the preceding afternoon, and

they had been up all night, throwing up works of defence, and making

dispositions to resist another assault by the enemy. They were not in a

condition to assume the offensive against an enemy who was supposed to

be in force and in position, himself preparing to resume the attack of

the previous day, however competent they may have been to pursue a

demoralized foe flying from the field. The propitious moment was lost,

not to return,--for, during the day, the rising flood rendered all the

bridges, except the railroad-bridge, impassable.

The necessity for more substantial bridges to connect the two wings of

the army had now been made manifest, and two fine structures, available

for all arms, were completed by the nineteenth. At the same time two

foot-bridges were made, the other bridges repaired, and their approaches

made secure, though the enemy still held the approaches of the three

upper bridges on the right bank.

While these bridges were being made, mostly by the right wing of the

army, the left wing was engaged in constructing a strong line of

defence, stretching from the White-Oak Swamp to the Chickahominy,

consisting of six redoubts connected by rifle-pits or barricades.

General Barnard says,--"The object of these lines (over three miles

long) was to hold our position of the left wing against the concentrated

force of the enemy, until communications across the Chickahominy could

be established; or, if necessary, to maintain our position on this side,

while the bulk of the army was thrown upon the other, should occasion

require it; or, finally, to hold one part of our line and communication

by a small force, while our principal offensive effort was made upon

another." At the same time, several batteries were constructed on the

left bank of the river in the neighborhood of the upper bridges, either

to operate on the enemy's positions in their front, or to defend these

bridges.

All these preparations were made with the understood purpose of driving

the enemy from his positions in front of New Bridge; and they appear to

have been about completed, for on the night of the twenty-sixth "an

epaulement for putting our guns in position" to effect this object was

thrown up. But it was too late. Lee's guns had been heard in the

afternoon, in the neighborhood of Mechanicsville, attacking the advance

of our right wing, and Jackson was within supporting distance. The

battle of the twenty-seventh of June, on which "hinged the fate of the

campaign," was to be fought to-morrow. This battle, or rather the policy

of fighting it, or suffering it to be fought, has been more criticized

than any other battle of the campaign. We fought a battle which was

decisive against us with less than one-third of our force.

General Barnard is severe in his criticisms. In his "retrospect,

pointing out the mistakes that were made," he says,--

"At last a moment came when action was imperative. The enemy assumed the

initiative, and we had warning of when and where he was to strike. Had

Porter been withdrawn the night of the twenty-sixth, our army would have

been _concentrated_ on the right bank, while two corps at least of the

enemy's force were on the _left_ bank. Whatever course we then took,

whether to strike at Richmond and the portion of the enemy on the right

bank, or move at once for the James, we would have had a concentrated

army, and a fair chance of a brilliant result, in the first place; and

in the second, if we accomplished nothing, we would have been in the

same case on the morning of the twenty-seventh as we were on that of the

twenty-eighth,--_minus_ a lost battle and a compulsory retreat; or, had

the fortified lines (thrown up _expressly_ for the object) been held by

twenty thousand men, (as they could have been,) we could have fought on

the other side with eighty thousand men instead of twenty-seven

thousand; or, finally, had the lines been abandoned, with our hold on

the right bank of the Chickahominy, we might have fought and crushed the

enemy on the left bank, reopened our communications, and then returned

and taken Richmond.

"As it was, the enemy fought with his _whole force_, (except enough left

before our lines to keep up an appearance,) and we fought with

twenty-seven thousand men, losing the battle and nine thousand men.

"By this defeat we were driven from our position, our advance of

conquest turned into a retreat for safety, by a force probably not

greatly superior to our own."

It is to be hoped that the forthcoming report of General McClellan will

give us the reasons which induced him to risk such a battle with such a

force, and modify, to some extent at least, the justice of such

outspoken censure.

The services of the engineers in passing the army over White-Oak Swamp,

in reconnoitring the line of retreat to James River, in posting troops,

and in defending the final position of the army at Harrison's Landing,

are detailed with great clearness. Of his officers the General speaks in

the highest terms. It appears, that, with a single exception, they were

all _lieutenants_, whereas "in a European service the chief engineer

serving with an army-corps would be a field-officer, generally a

colonel." In this want of rank in the corps of engineers the General

says there is a twofold evil.

"_First_, the great hardships and injustice to the officers themselves:

for they have, almost without exception, refused or _been_ refused high

positions in the volunteer service, (to which they have seen their

contemporaries of the other branches elevated,) on the ground that their

services as _engineers_ were absolutely necessary. _Second_, it is an

evil to the service: since an adequate rank is almost as necessary to an

officer for the efficient discharge of his duties as professional

knowledge. The engineer's duty is a responsible one. He is called upon

to decide important questions,--to fix the position of defensive works,

(and thereby of the _troops_ who occupy them,)--to indicate the manner

and points of attack of fortified positions. To give him the proper

weight with those with whom he is associated, he should have, as _they_

have, adequate rank.

"The campaign on the Peninsula called for great labor on the part of the

engineers. The country, notwithstanding its early settlement, was a

_terra incognita_. We knew the York River and the James River, and we

had heard of the Chickahominy; and this was about the extent of our

knowledge. Our maps were so incorrect that they were found to be

worthless before we reached Yorktown. New ones had to be prepared, based

on reconnoissances made by officers of engineers.

"The siege of Yorktown involved great responsibility, besides exposure

and toil. The movements of the whole army were determined by the

engineers. The Chickahominy again arrested us, where, if possible, the

responsibility and labor of the engineer officers were increased. In

fact, everywhere, and on every occasion, even to our last position at

Harrison's Landing, this responsibility and labor on the part of the

engineers was incessant.

"I have stated above in what manner the officers of engineers performed

their duties. Yet thus far their services are ignored and unrecognized,

while distinctions have been bestowed upon those who have had the good

fortune to command troops. Under such circumstances it can hardly be

expected that the few engineer officers yet remaining will willingly

continue their services in this unrequited branch of the military

profession. We have no sufficient officers of engineers at this time

with any of our armies to commence another siege, nor can they be

obtained. In another war, if their services are thus neglected in this,

we shall have none."

It is to be hoped that the General's appeal for additional rank to the

officers of engineers will not be overlooked. The officers of this corps

have demonstrated not only their skill as engineers, but also their

ability to command troops and even armies. On the side of our country's

cause we have McClellan, Halleck, Rosecrans, Meade, Gillmore, and

Barnard, besides a score of others, all generals; and in the ranks of

the Rebels we find Lee, Joe Johnston, Beauregard, Gilmer, and Smith, all

generals, too, and all formerly officers of engineers. Nobly have they

all vindicated the scale of proficiency which placed them among the

distinguished of their respective classes at their common Alma Mater.

Whatever may have been the services of other men during our present

struggle for nationality, and whatever may be their services in the

future, to General Barry, the Chief of Artillery of the Army of the

Potomac, from the organization of that army to the close of the

Peninsular campaign, more than to any other person, belongs the credit

of organizing our admirable system of field-artillery.

We have two reports from General Barry: one, on "The Organization of the

Artillery of the Army of the Potomac"; the other, a "Report of the

Operations of the Artillery at the Siege of Yorktown." Of the services

of the artillery during the remainder of the campaign we have no record

from its chief; but they were conspicuous on every battle-field, and

will not be forgotten until Malvern Hill shall have passed into

oblivion.

After the first Battle of Bull Run, the efforts of the nation were

directed to organizing an army for the defence of the national capital.

Of men and money we had plenty; but men and money, however necessary

they may be, do not make an army. Cannon, muskets, rifles, pistols,

sabres, horses, mules, wagons, harness, bridges, tools, food, clothing,

and numberless other things, are required; but men and money, with all

this added _matériel_ of war, still will not make an _efficient_ army.

Organization, discipline, and instruction are necessary to accomplish

this. At the time of which we speak the people of this country did not

comprehend what an army consisted of, or, if they did, they comprehended

it as children,--by its trappings, its men and horses, its drums and

fifes, its "pomp and circumstance."

Few even of our best officers who had honestly studied their profession

had ever seen an army, or fully realized the amount of labor that was

necessary, even with our unbounded resources, to organize an efficient

army ready for the field. Happily for our country, there were some who

in garrison had learned the science and theory of war, and in Mexico, or

in expeditions against our Western Indians, had acquired some knowledge

of its practice. Of these General McClellan was selected to be the

chief. He had seen armies in Europe, and it was believed that he could

bring to his aid more of the right kind of experience for organization

than any other man. If there is any one thing more than another for

which General McClellan is distinguished, it is his ability to _make an

army_. Men may have their opinions as to his genius or his courage, his

politics or his generalship; they may think he is too slow or too

cautious, or they may say he is not equal to great emergencies; but of

his ability to organize an army there is a concurrent opinion in his

favor.

By himself, however, he would have been helpless. He required

assistance. He was obliged to have chiefs of the several arms about

him,--a chief of engineers, of artillery, of cavalry, and chiefs of the

several divisions of infantry.

General Barry was his chief of artillery. To him was assigned the duty

of organizing this arm of the service. We learn from his Report, that,

"when Major-General McClellan was appointed to the command of the

'Division of the Potomac,' July 25th, 1861, a few days after the first

Battle of Bull Run, the whole field-artillery of his command consisted

of no more than parts of nine batteries, or thirty pieces of various,

and, in some instances, unusual and unserviceable calibres. Most of

these batteries were also of mixed calibres. My calculations were based

upon the expected immediate expansion of the 'Division of the Potomac'

into the 'Army of the Potomac,' to consist of at least one hundred

thousand infantry. Considerations involving the peculiar character and

extent of the force to be employed, the probable field and character of

operations, the utmost efficiency of the arm, and the limits imposed by

the as yet undeveloped resources of the nation, led to the following

general propositions, offered by me to Major-General McClellan, and

which received his full approval."

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 77, March, 1864 A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics · 第 44 / 50 题