Early in the summer of 1862, General Lee proceeded to increase his
fighting force so as to make it more nearly equal in number to that of
McClellan, and to that end every man that could be spared from other
sections in the South was called to Richmond. Numerous intrenchments
were thrown up along the roads and in the fields about Richmond, thus
giving it the appearance of a fortified camp. General Lee, in an
address to his troops, said that the army had made its last retreat.
Each army at this time numbered in the neighborhood of 100,000 men.
Meanwhile, McClellan's army was acclimating itself to a Virginia
summer, and now that the sweltering heat of June was coming on, the
swamps about their camps were fountains of disease, which began to tell
on the health of the men. The hospitals were crowded, and the death
rate was appalling.
McClellan proceeded to transfer all his men to the south side of the
Chickahominy River, excepting the corps of Franklin and Porter, which
were left on the north side of the river to await reënforcements under
General McCall, which arrived about the middle of June.
General Lee sent a division of his cavalry, under the command of J.
E. B. Stuart, to encircle the army of McClellan. Stuart started in the
direction of Fredericksburg June 12th, as if to reënforce Jackson, and
the first night bivouacked in the pine woods of Hanover county. Then,
turning to the east, he soon came upon a Union force, drawn up in
columns of four, ready to dispute the passage of the road, and which
fell back in confusion as the Confederates advanced. Stuart pushed on
and fell upon a company of Federal infantry at Tunstall's Station,
which surrendered at once. The Confederates quickly turned about,
crossed the Chickahominy River and joined Lee's army before Richmond,
thus giving Lee the desired information of the position of McClellan's
army.
Meanwhile, General "Stonewall" Jackson with his army was making haste
to join Lee's army, and on June 25th reached Ashland, in striking
distance of the Army of the Potomac.
McClellan was pushing his men forward to begin the siege of Richmond.
His advance guard was within four miles of the Confederate capital, and
his fond hope was that within a few days at most his artillery would be
belching forth its sheets of fire and lead into the beleaguered city.
In front of the Union camp was a strip of pine woodland, full of ponds
and marshes. The Union soldiers pressed through this thicket, met the
Confederate pickets among the trees and drove them back. Upon emerging
into the open the Federal troops found it filled with rifle pits,
earth works, and redoubts. At once they were met with a steady and
incessant fire, which continued nearly all day, and at times almost
reached the magnitude of a battle. This is sometimes called the second
battle of Fair Oaks, and was the prelude of the Seven Days' battles.
The extreme right of the Union line, under command of General Porter,
lay near Mechanicsville, on the Upper Chickahominy. It was strongly
entrenched and was almost impregnable to an attack from the front.
Before sunrise, June 26th, the Confederates were at the Chickahominy
bridge awaiting the arrival of Jackson, but for once Jackson was behind
time. The morning hours came and went. Noon came and Jackson had not
arrived. About the middle of the afternoon, General A. P. Hill, growing
impatient, crossed the river at Meadow bridge, and at Mechanicsville
was joined by the divisions of Longstreet and D. H. Hill. Driving the
Union outpost to cover, the Confederates swept across the low approach
to Beaver Dam Creek through a murderous fire from the batteries on
the cliff, but were finally repulsed with severe loss. Later in the
afternoon relief was sent Hill, who again attempted to force the
Union position at Ellerson's Mill. From across the open fields, and
in full view of the defenders of the cliff, the Confederates moved
down the slope in full range of the Federal batteries, but the fire
was reserved by the Federals. As the approaching columns reached the
stream the shells came screaming through the air from every waiting
field-piece. Volley after volley of musketry was poured into the ranks
of the Southerners. The hillside was soon covered by the victims of
the gallant charge. As darkness hovered over them there were no signs
of the cessation of the combat. It was nine o'clock when Hill finally
drew back his shattered forces to await the coming of the morning. The
Forty-fourth Georgia regiment suffered the loss of all of its officers,
and thereby was unable to re-form its broken ranks. Both armies now
prepared for another day of conflict.
McClellan became convinced that Jackson was really approaching with a
large force, and decided to change his base to the James River, leaving
Porter with the Fifth corps on the banks of the Chickahominy, to
prevent Jackson from interrupting this gigantic movement. It involved
marching an army of 100,000 men, with a train of 5,000 heavily loaded
wagons, and many siege-guns, together with 3,000 cattle to be driven
across the marshy peninsula.
On the night of the 26th, McCall's division was directed to fall back
to the bridges across the Chickahominy near Gaines' Mill, and there
make a stand, for the purpose of holding back the Confederates. Just
before daylight the operations of moving the troops began.
The Confederates were equally alert, and opened a heavy fire upon the
retreating columns. The Union force under McCall, by being skillfully
handled, succeeded in reaching their new position on the Chickahominy
heights, and on the morning of the new day made ready for action. The
selection of this ground had been well made; they occupied a series of
heights fronted on the west by a cycle shaped stream. The land beyond
was an open country, through which a creek meandered sluggishly, and
beyond this a densely tangled undergrowth. Around the Union position
also were many patches of woods, affording cover for the reserves.
To protect the Federals, trees had been felled along their front, out
of which barriers, protected by rails and knapsacks, were erected.
Jackson's forces had united with those of Longstreet and the two Hills,
and were advancing with grim determination of victory.
It was two o'clock, on June 28th, when General A. P. Hill swung his
division into line for the attack. He was unsupported by the other
divisions, which had not yet arrived on the field. His columns moved
rapidly toward the Union front, and was met by a hailstorm of lead from
Porter's artillery, which sent messages of death to the approaching
lines of gray.
The Confederate front recoiled from the incessant outpour of grape,
canister and shell. The repulse threw the Confederates into great
confusion. Many left the field in disorder. Others threw themselves on
the ground to escape the withering fire, while some held their places.
The Federals were reënforced by General Slocum's division of Franklin's
corps.
Lee ordered a general attack upon the entire Union front.
Reënforcements were brought up to take the place of the shattered
regiments. The troops moved forward in the face of a heavy fire and
pressed up the hillside against the Union line at fearful sacrifice. It
was a death grapple for the mastery of the field.
At this time General Lee observed Hood of Jackson's corps coming down
the road bringing his brigade into the fight. Riding forward to meet
him, Lee directed that he should try to break the Union line. Hood, in
addressing his troops, said that no man should fire until ordered, then
started for the Union breastwork 800 yards away. They moved rapidly
across the open under a shower of shot and shell. At every step the
ranks grew thinner and thinner. They quickened their pace as they
passed down the slope and across the creek. Not a shot had they fired.
With the wing of death hovering over all, they fixed bayonets and,
dashing up the hill into the Federals' line, with a shout they plunged
through the felled timber and over the breastworks. The Union line
had been pierced and was giving way, and the retreat was threatening
to develop into a general rout. But the Federals at this moment were
reënforced by the brigades of French and Meagher of Sumner's corps.
This stopped the pursuit and, as night was at hand, the Southern
soldiers withdrew. The battle of Gaines' Mill was then over.
General Lee believed that McClellan would retreat down the Peninsula,
but on June 29th, this being the next day after the battle of Gaines'
Mill, he became convinced that the Federals were moving towards the
James River. Longstreet and A. P. Hill were again ordered to take up
the pursuit of the Federals.
McClellan had left Sumner to guard his retreating columns. Sumner
followed up in the rear of the Federals and brought his men to a halt
at what is known as the "Peach Orchard," near Savage's Station, and
successfully resisted the spirited fire of musketry and artillery
of the Confederates. On this same Sunday evening he was attacked by
General Magruder with a large force, who was following close on the
heels of the Army of the Potomac. Magruder brought his artillery into
action, but failed to dislodge the Federals. He then charged the Union
breastworks and was met with a vigorous fire, and the battle raged
over the entire field. Both sides stood their ground until darkness
closed the contest. The battle of Savage's Station was now over. Before
midnight Sumner had withdrawn his forces and was following after the
wagon trains of McClellan.
The Confederates were pursuing McClellan in two columns, one led by
Jackson and the other by Longstreet. The division under Longstreet came
upon the Federals at Glendale, where they were guarding the right flank
of the retreat. The Federals were attacked by a part of Longstreet's
division led by General McCall, but was repulsed with great loss.
Longstreet ordered a general attack. One Alabama brigade charged
across the field in the face of the Union batteries. The men had to go
a distance of 600 yards. The batteries let loose grape and canister,
while volley after volley of musketry sent its death-dealing messages
among the Southerners. But nothing except grim death itself could check
their impetuous charge. Pausing for an instant, they delivered a volley
of musketry and attempted to seize the guns. Bayonets were crossed and
men engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle. Darkness closed on the fearful
scene, yet the fighting continued. The Federals finally withdrew from
the field to follow up their retreating columns.
There fell into the hands of the Confederates a field hospital, filled
with the wounded, gathered from the fields of Gaines' Mill, Savage's
Station and Glendale. These wounded were taken charge of as prisoners,
along with their attending physicians. This proved to be a great burden
to the Confederates, as they were taxed to their utmost caring for
their own wounded.
By this series of engagements McClellan was enabled to reach Malvern
Hill, on the James River, with his army intact. By noon on July 1st
his last division had reached its position. The Confederates, led by
Longstreet, were close on his trail, and were soon brought up to the
Union outposts.
[Illustration: GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT]
Malvern Hill, a plateau a mile and a half long and half a mile wide,
with its top bare of woods, commanded a view of the country over
which the Confederates must approach. Around the summit of this hill
McClellan had placed tier after tier of batteries, arranged like an
amphitheater. On the top were placed several heavy siege guns, his
left flank being protected by the gunboats in the river. The morning
and early afternoon were occupied by several Confederate attacks,
sometimes formidable in their nature, but Lee planned for no general
move until he could bring up a force which he thought sufficient to
attack the strong position of the Federals. The Confederates had orders
to advance, when a signal shout was given by the men of Armistead's
brigade. The attack was made late in the afternoon by General D. H.
Hill, and was gallantly done, but no army could have withstood the
fire from the batteries of McClellan as they were massed upon Malvern
Hill. All during the evening brigade after brigade tried to force the
Union lines. They were forced to breast one of the most devastating
storms of lead and canister to which an assaulting army has ever been
subjected. The round shot and grape cut through the branches of the
trees. Column after column of Southern soldiers rushed upon the death
dealing cannon, only to be mowed down. Their thin lines rallied again
and again to the charge, but to no avail. McClellan's batteries still
hurled their missiles of death. The field below was covered with the
dead, as mute pleaders in the cause of peace. The heavy shells from the
gunboats on the river shrieked through the timber and great limbs were
torn from the trees as they hurtled by. Darkness was falling over the
combatants. It was nine o'clock before the guns ceased firing, and only
an occasional shot rang out over the gory field of Malvern Hill.
The next day the Confederates, looking up through the drenching rain to
where had stood the grim batteries and lines of blue, saw only deserted
ramparts. The Federal army had retreated during the night to Harrison's
Landing, where it remained until August.
President Lincoln became convinced that the operations from the James
River as a base were impracticable, and orders were issued for the army
to be withdrawn from the peninsula.
The net result of the Seven Days' Battles was a disappointment to the
South, as the Southern public believed that McClellan should not have
been allowed to reach the James River with his army intact, although
the siege of Richmond had been raised.
Generals McClellan, Jackson, A. P. Hill, G. W. Smith, Joseph E.
Johnston and Lee, as well as other commanding officers of this series
of battles about Richmond, had been great friends. Some of them had
attended school together at West Point, and many of them had enjoyed
each other's fellowship while members of the Aztec Club in the City
of Mexico, which was an organization of American officers, while for
a few months they were in the Mexican capital at the close of the
Mexican war. General Franklin Pierce was president of the club, who was
afterwards President of the United States.
Generals McClellan and Joseph E. Johnston were special friends even
after the war, and in a conversation with McClellan Johnston remarked
"You never know what is in a man until you try to lick him."