COAL HARBOR.
At Hanover Court House--The Eighteenth corps joins the Army of
the Potomac--The armies meet at Coal Harbor--Battle of June
1st--Battle of June 3d--Terrible exposure--The army strikes for
Petersburgh--Charles City Court House--A centenarian--Review of
the overland campaign.
Early on the morning of the 30th, the army was again moving, advancing
with heavy skirmishing toward Hanover Court House. Remaining here some
hours the column retraced its steps a short distance, the rebels
meanwhile opening a severe artillery fire upon our hospital trains.
Toward evening the enemy attacked our left vigorously but were repulsed,
and an attack was in turn made by our own troops which resulted in
forcing the rebels from a part of their intrenchments. Except some
changes of position and ascertaining that of the enemy, our army lay
quietly confronting the rebels during the 31st, but on the 1st of June
we were again on the road marching toward Coal Harbor. The march was a
hard one. The day was sultry, and the dust, ankle deep, raised in clouds
by the column, was almost suffocating. It filled the air and hung upon
the leaves of the trees like snow. Seldom had our men experienced so
severe a march. As we neared Coal Harbor our Sixth corps in advance, we
fell in with the column of General Smith's command, the Eighteenth and
Tenth corps. It was a relief to the old soldiers of the Army of the
Potomac to see these full regiments, and they felt that with such large
reinforcements our success must now be insured. It was also a source of
much gratification to the old Second division to meet again our friends
Generals Smith and Brooks, whose names were so intimately connected with
the division, and who still held a large place in the affections of the
men.
These two corps were a part of General Butler's command, which had
advanced up the Peninsula as far as Bermuda Hundreds, but were unable to
make further progress. General Grant had, therefore, directed General
Butler to send them forward by way of transports to White House Landing,
to join the Army of the Potomac. They reached us tired and almost
discouraged by their unusual march of nearly sixteen miles, their trains
and baggage being left behind.
In the afternoon we had fallen in with ambulances returning with wounded
cavalrymen, and learned from them that Sheridan had engaged the rebel
cavalry at Coal Harbor early in the morning, and that he was now
fighting both infantry and cavalry. Toward that point the troops pushed
on rapidly, reaching the cavalry line at about four o'clock. The men
halted a few moments, and then were ordered to fall in and advance
against the enemy. Skirmishers, as usual, had advanced and prepared the
way for the lines of infantry and the artillery. The shots of the
skirmishers had become more and more frequent, till the sharp rattle of
musketry told of the actual presence of the enemy. The artillery of the
Sixth corps was at once run out, and a brisk fire opened upon the
rebels, who replied with their guns, but with less vigor than that
exhibited by our own. The commands of Wright and Smith were at once
formed in line of battle, our Sixth corps on the left in line, Rickett's
Third division holding the right of the line, Russell's the center, and
Neill's Second division the extreme left of the whole line. On our right
was Smith's command in single line.
In front of our line was an open space two-thirds of a mile in width,
beyond which was a strip of pine woods. In these woods the enemy had
intrenched, and was holding the position in strong force. Lee, again
anticipating the design of Grant, had sent Longstreet's corps and other
troops to occupy Coal Harbor, and now, with their rear resting upon the
Chickahominy, at this point a shallow and easily forded stream, the
rebels occupied a strong position between our advance and Richmond.
The order for the charge was given, and these two commands, weary and
exhausted, the veterans of the Sixth corps from many days and nights of
most severe labor, and both corps by the tedious march of the day,
dashed impetuously across the ploughed field with shouts and cheers,
making for the rebel works.
The storm of battle seemed suddenly to have broken without the usual
warning. It was less than an hour since the Union troops had arrived on
the field, and already a most bloody struggle was in progress. Volleys
rang out upon the evening air, crashing louder and still louder. The
First and Third divisions of the Sixth corps, in heavy columns, rushed
across the field, cleared the abattis, and seized the rebel works, while
the Second division, on the left, discovering a strong force of the
enemy planting a battery on our flank, engaged them and forced them
back. Smith's command, also, by a desperate charge, seized nearly the
whole line in the front, that on the extreme right, in front of Brooks'
command, alone remaining in the hands of the rebels. The whole line
thundered with the incessant volleys of musketry, and the shot and shell
of the artillery shrieked and howled like spirits of evil. The sun was
sinking, red, in the west, and the clouds of dust and smoke almost
obscured the terrible scene. Hundreds of our brave fellows were falling
on every side, and stretcher bearers were actively engaged in removing
the wounded from the field. The First division, after a stubborn
resistance of a few minutes, was forced to give up the line of works it
had captured and fall back; only the Third division held its ground. The
others had advanced as far, but the ground was unfavorable, and in spite
of most determined efforts to hold the line, they were forced to swing
back.
This was the first experience of Smith's command in a great battle, and
well did his men earn the confidence of the veterans who fought by their
side. Their courage and impetuosity were the subjects of admiration of
the boys of the old Sixth corps, who declared that Baldy Smith could
make any troops fight like veterans.
The gallantry shown by our Third division in taking and holding the
enemy's works, was acknowledged with true soldierly generosity by the
other divisions of our corps, who thus far had not regarded the new
division as their peer.
As darkness came on, the conflict still raged, and sheets of flame
rolled from one end of the line to the other as the discomfited rebels
strove desperately to regain their lost ground. But as the sound of
battle died away at nine o'clock, the advantages gained by us were still
held, and our men set to work to strengthen the works they had captured
from the enemy and to throw up new ones. Again and again the rebels
rushed against the Union line hoping to regain their lost ground, but
without success. The battle, although of brief duration, had been a most
sanguinary one. The loss to the Sixth corps was about two hundred killed
and nine hundred and sixty wounded, while the Eighteenth corps lost one
hundred and twenty-five killed and six hundred and fifty wounded.
Meanwhile the Second, Fifth and Ninth corps were holding the position
occupied by them the day before, and against these corps most desperate
assaults were repeatedly made by the enemy, but they were as often
repulsed with great slaughter.
The movement at Coal Harbor, while it had not succeeded in forcing the
enemy across the Chickahominy, had secured our communications with White
House Landing, which now became, after two years, for the second time,
the base of supplies for the Army of the Potomac. General Grant now
determined to renew the attempt to dislodge the rebels on the following
day.
Accordingly, after the fashion of all the movements of the army, the
Second corps, which now occupied the extreme right of the line, withdrew
during the night, and falling behind the other corps, marched rapidly to
the left and took position in that flank on the road leading from
Dispatch Station to Coal Harbor. The corps did not secure this position
without considerable fighting, and it was not in condition to take part
in the expected advance until the afternoon. Then a most violent thunder
shower set in, putting a stop to all movements for the remainder of the
day.
The men of the Sixth and Eighteenth corps, tired and worn out from
marching, fighting, and the hard night's work in throwing up
intrenchments, had spent the early part of the day in quietly watching
the enemy, or lounging behind the breastworks, glad of an opportunity
for rest.
Orders were now given for a simultaneous attack along the whole line, to
take place at half-past four on the morning of the 3d. Our line of
battle extended from Coal Harbor to Tolopotamy creek, in the following
order, from left to right: Second, Sixth, Eighteenth, Fifth, and Ninth.
This line was nearly parallel with the Chickahominy, and from a mile and
a half to two miles north of it.
The rebels had not left the day unimproved, in concentrating their
troops and strengthening their works. They now held three lines of
breastworks, all of great strength; the first occupied by their skirmish
lines, the others by strong lines of battle. Between the two armies the
ground was low and swampy, while the positions occupied by both were
sandy plains.
At half-past six on the morning of the 3d, our army was astir; and the
skirmishers, leaving the cover of the rifle pits, were advancing.
Presently they fell in with the skirmishers of the enemy, and the sharp
cracking of rifles betokened the storm of battle.
As soon as the skirmishers were engaged, our artillery opened upon the
rebel works, and the conflict now commenced in earnest. Amid the
deafening volleys of musketry, the thunders of the artillery, and the
wild yells of battle, our brave fellows pressed rapidly across the space
between the hostile lines of works, and the whole Union force was thrown
against the rebel breastworks almost simultaneously. But the works were
too strong, the abattis too troublesome, and the rebel forces too
numerous. Their line could not be taken.
The vigorous and gallant assault made by the Sixth corps, resulted in
carrying the first line, where the rebel skirmishers had been posted,
and our troops got within two hundred and fifty yards of the main works,
but Martindale's division of Smith's corps, which advanced with the
Sixth corps, and on our right, found the task before it too great; the
troops of that division became disarranged and were repulsed. Although
General Smith, who was always up to the front, made several attempts to
relieve Martindale's division, it failed to take the rifle pits.
The right flank of the Sixth corps, thus exposed, the whole corps was
forced to fall back.
Thus this grand assault, in which General Grant hoped to force his enemy
across the Chickahominy, failed with immense loss to us and
comparatively little to the confederate army, which as usual was
defended by earthworks, while our men advancing to the charge were
unprotected. But our brave fellows were to have their revenge.
The battle was over, and again the occupants of the opposing lines of
defenses watched each other, the quiet being only disturbed by the
occasional shots of sharpshooters. Darkness closed over the plains of
Coal Harbor, and even the sharpshooters desisted from their work. The
stars shed a mild light upon the two armies which had so lately been
engaged in fierce conflict, each now securely resting behind its line of
earthworks, and the plain which lay between them, which the hurricane of
battle had so lately swept, was as still as though the noise of war had
never been heard there.
Suddenly, at eight o'clock, the rebels in front of our Sixth corps and
of the Second corps, leaped over their works and rushed with a yell
toward our lines. At the same time their artillery opened upon us. The
course of their shells was marked by long curves of fire upon the dark
sky, while the flashes of the guns and bursting missiles made a sublime
display of pyrotechnics.
On came the charging column, against the left of the Sixth and the right
of the Second corps; but nothing pleased our brave boys more than to see
their enemies come out from the cover of their works to fight.
It had, during all these long days of battles, been ours to charge well
defended earthworks almost invariably; and whenever the rebels chose to
assume the offensive, our men were glad to show them the difference
between being the assailants and the assailed.
Now the rebels came on with determination, but their attack was met by
volley after volley of musketry aimed for effect; and our well directed
fire of artillery made great gaps in the advancing lines. The attack was
nobly repulsed, and many grey-coated soldiers who advanced to the
charge, were left by their retreating comrades, dead between the two
lines, while others were ordered in as prisoners. The rebels returned to
their place, and again all was still. From this time we had no more
battles at Coal Harbor, yet we daily lost many men by the shots of the
sharpshooters who were perched in trees, and who kept up a fire at every
moving thing which showed itself within our lines.
Never before had our army been in a position where there was such
constant danger as at Coal Harbor. Men in the front line dared not leave
the cover of the breastworks except in the darkness of night, and even
then the movement of a company to the rear might bring on a storm of
shells. High breastworks were thrown up at all angles with the main
line, and deep trenches were dug, in which the men might pass to and
from the front without being observed. Even with all these extraordinary
precautions, no man was safe in venturing to go to the rear by daylight.
If a soldier collected the canteens of his companions and started to the
rear for water, he was obliged to crawl along the trenches with the
utmost secrecy, and even then he was liable to be shot. Not a day
passed, even when there was no battle, in which scores of men were not
killed or brought to the hospitals with severe wounds.
The whole plain occupied by our army was dug over. Far to the rear the
men had intrenched themselves. General officers had their tents erected
in deep excavations surrounded by embankments of earth, and special duty
men had each prepared for themselves burrows in the ground, many of
which were creditable specimens of engineering. One was reminded, in
riding over the plain, of the colonies of prairie dogs with their
burrows and mounds. Although we had but two days' actual fighting at
Coal Harbor, our losses were more than thirteen thousand men, while the
rebels suffered comparatively small losses.
Thus the army lay upon the burning sands of that arid plain, the greater
part of the line without the friendly shelter of a tree, weary, yet not
discouraged; grimy and dirty, and choked with dust, yet uttering no
words of complaint, for twelve days.
Troops commenced moving toward the rear on the morning of the 11th of
July, and it became known that we were to make no more attempts to force
the formidable position. General Grant had ordered another flank
movement, this time to the James river. Preparations for withdrawing
went on actively on the 10th and 11th; all the wounded were sent to the
White House, and the long trains of forage, ammunition and commissary
supplies which had been allowed to come far toward the front, began to
pass to the rear. On the 12th, Smith's corps was ordered to the White
House, thence to embark to City Point, while the remainder of the army
was to cross the Chickahominy far to the right of the rebel position,
and march to the James river.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the long hospital train of the Sixth
corps moved out toward the left a few miles and halted for the corps,
which withdrew from the works after dark, and marched with great
rapidity toward the left. The other corps also withdrew from their
positions, and the whole army moved off down the Chickahominy, the
Second corps in advance. The march was kept up all night, a short halt
only being allowed in the morning near Dispatch Station. Then the column
pressed on again, the men almost suffocated with the dust, which hung
over the column like a huge cloud; no halt was made at noon, and the
men, deprived of their coffee, choked with dust, and burned with heat,
marched wearily toward night. The sun was sinking in the west, tinging
the clouds with purple, and crowning the distant hills with gold, when
we crossed the historic Chickahominy. Two years before we had crossed
the same stream not far from this very spot. Through how many
vicissitudes of army life had we passed since that time. The stream was
not wide, and its banks were well defined where we crossed. Indeed, at
this point, there was nothing in the appearance of the stream that would
convey any idea of the difficulties which it had once presented to the
Union army. The corps bivouacked on high grounds a mile from the river,
glad to rest from the toiling march.
We were early astir on the morning of the 14th; taking our line of march
through a delightful section of country where the comfortable farm
houses and fine residences presented a striking contrast with the
desolations to which we had become accustomed. As we began to descend
from the high lands toward the plain, on which stands the little cluster
of houses called, in southern fashion, Charles City, we beheld, in the
distance, the James river, lying in all its loveliness, spreading widely
between its banks. A magnificent prospect opened before us. The river in
the distance bordered by green fields, one undulating slope four or five
miles wide, and twice as long, presenting a scene of surpassing beauty.
There were large fields of grain already yellow and nearly ripe for the
harvest, green meadows lay in the beautiful valleys, the gentle breeze
dallied with the tassels of the long rows of corn, which gave rich
promise of an abundant harvest; fine groves upon the hillside, in the
valleys and on the plain, gave a charming diversity to the scene, and
the old mansions, embosomed in vines and trees, and surrounded by
colonies of outhouses, reminded us of the ease and comfort which had
reigned here before the ravages of war had desolated Virginia. To the
right was Charles City, almost hidden by trees, a little town, in
prosperous days, the home of a few hundred people, now almost deserted.
In the vicinity of Charles City we halted a little before noon. The
Second corps, which was in the advance, had already reached the James at
Wilcox's Landing, and was preparing to cross. The men of our corps were
delighted with the opportunity of once more spreading their tents over
clean grassy turf, and each quickly pitched his shelter tent preparatory
to a refreshing rest.
Within two miles of our camp was the residence of the late ex-president,
John Tyler, which was visited by many of our officers. It was a charming
spot, with everything about it to please the eye of a lover of the
beautiful. But except the grounds immediately surrounding the house,
everything was in the wildness of nature.
The house was stripped of almost everything. The cabinet was carried
off. The large library had lost many of its choicest volumes, while the
remainder, with heaps of letters, lay thrown in wild confusion about the
floor. The pile of sheet music which had been left on the piano by the
family, had been culled over and nearly all taken away. In fact such a
sad scene of destruction was rare, even in the track of a great army.
On the morning of the 15th, the corps moved to the river side, where it
remained while other troops were crossing by ferry and on an immensely
long pontoon bridge. The river was full of shipping, the forests of
masts making strange contrasts with the native forests on the river
banks.
Near the crossing was a superb old mansion, the residence of a rebel
general, surrounded by its little village of negro cabins. Here many
officers of the corps resorted, to spend the time in walking among the
grand old trees, or to stroll through the garden, admiring the elegant
and rare exotics which adorned the grounds. Here was the magnolia
grandiflora in full bloom, its immense cup-like flowers filling the
whole place with delightful fragrance, and the American agave, also
loaded with a profusion of elegant flowers; roses of the most rare and
superb varieties, jasmines, honeysuckles, clematis, spice woods, and a
great variety of other choice plants, were also in lavish abundance.
There were locust trees of enormous size, and everything that was
inanimate filled us with surprise and delight. But, within the mansion,
we were met with the accustomed bitterness and want of civility. Among
the slaves on the premises was a white-haired negro, who was one hundred
and eight years old. His wife, who lived upon a neighboring plantation,
was one hundred and four years of age. When asked his age by the boys,
he was accustomed to answer, "Well, massa, I'se going on _two hundred_
now." The old fellow manifested no sympathy for the cause of his master,
and even he sighed for freedom. When asked of what value freedom could
be to him now, he answered, impatiently, "Well, massa, isn't a hundred
and eight years long enough to be a slave?"
The army, which had thus fought its way at fearful cost from the Rapidan
to the James, was now to change its base, and threaten the rebel capital
from the south. Petersburgh was now the objective point, and this was
regarded as the door to Richmond.
Our army had, during the period of a little more than a month, fought
the most extraordinary series of battles, and executed some of the most
remarkable movements on record. Never was heroic valor exhibited on a
grander scale than had been manifested by the Army of the Potomac
throughout this long struggle, in which every man's life seemed doomed.
The stubborn perseverance of the general was equaled by the persistent
determination of his soldiers. Day after day they had been called upon
to assault earthworks of formidable character, defended by veteran
troops; and it was usually the case that they had seen, as the only
fruits of their daring, almost reckless, charges, the ground in front of
the hostile intrenchments strewed with the lifeless bodies of their
comrades, while the enemy still held the coveted line of works.
The battle of the Wilderness was a strange, deadly struggle, which no
man could see. A battle in which both armies were hidden in thickets and
forests, impenetrable to vision, each making gigantic efforts for the
overthrow and destruction of the other. It had resulted in no decisive
advantage to either party. Lee was as ready to meet us at Spottsylvania
as he had been in the Wilderness, and Grant was determined in his attack
along the Ny, as though he had met with no repulse on Wilderness Run.
The soldiers, too, of each army were as ready at Spottsylvania to test
their relative valor as they had been in the Wilderness.
At Spottsylvania we had lost thousands of our best men, and hundreds of
our ablest officers in futile attempts to drive our enemy from
impregnable positions; yet, notwithstanding all our losses, and our
hitherto unsuccessful assaults, our men rushed against the strong
defenses at Coal Harbor with as much resolution and fortitude as though
they had met with no reverses.
From the Rapidan to the Chickahominy the advance had been almost a
continuous battle, in which our army fought at a disadvantage. The men
had for more than a month engaged the enemy in mortal combat by day and
made fatiguing marches by night only to find themselves again face to
face with the enemy in the morning. Sixty thousand of our comrades were
either killed, wounded or missing. Of these more than thirteen thousand
had been lost at Coal Harbor, about thirty-two thousand in the
Wilderness, and nearly fifteen thousand at Spottsylvania and on the
North Anna.
It is true that our enemy had suffered great losses, yet not half as
many rebels as Union men had fallen. At Coal Harbor the disproportion
was much greater than elsewhere. There the rebel loss had not been
one-tenth as great as our own. Notwithstanding our frequent repulses,
and despite the fact that our road was continually blocked by an army
behind powerful defenses, our march had been straight on toward the goal
of our ambition, the rebel capital.
From the crossing of the Rapidan to the halt at Coal Harbor, in all our
battles and all our flank movements, we had not swerved from the direct
line to Richmond; and now, with unimpaired vigor and still relentless
determination, the Army of the Potomac, and the imperturbable leader of
the Union armies, were ready to undertake the capture of Richmond, by
way of Petersburgh, fully assured that their illustrious valor and never
failing courage must sooner or later meet with their award.