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IV.
the Peninsular campaign.
March—August, 1862.
To take up an army of over one hundred thousand men, transport it and all its immense material by water, and plant it down on a new theatre of operations near two hundred miles distant, is an enterprise the details of which must be studied ere its colossal magnitude can be adequately apprehended.
1 It was an undertaking eminently characteristic of the
American genius, and of a people distinguished above all others for the ease with which it executes great material enterprises— a people rich in resources and in the faculty of creating resources.
Yet, when one reflects that at the time the order was given to provide transportation for the Army to the
Peninsula, which was the 27th of February, this had first of all to be
created; and when one learns that in a little over a month from that date there had been chartered and assembled
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no fewer than four hundred steamers and sailing-craft, and that upon them had been transported from
Alexandria and
Washington to
Fortress Monroe an army of one hundred and twenty-one thousand five hundred men, fourteen thousand five hundred and ninety-two animals, forty-four batteries, and the wagons and ambulances, ponton-trains, telegraph materials, and enormous equipage required for an army of such magnitude, and that all this was done with the loss of but eight mules and nine barges (the cargoes of which were saved), an intelligent verdict must certainly second the assertion of the
Assistant Secretary of War,
Mr. Tucker, whose administrative talent, in concert with
General McClellan, directed this vast undertaking, that ‘for economy and celerity of movement, this expedition is without a parallel on record.’
A European critic calls it ‘the stride of a giant’— and it well deserves that blazon.
The van of the grand army was led by
Hamilton's—afterwards
Kearney's—division of the Third Corps (
Heintzelman's), which embarked for
Fortress Monroe on the 17th of March.
It was followed by
Porter's division on the 22d, and the other divisions took their departure as rapidly as transports could be supplied.
General McClellan reached
Fortress Monroe on the 2d of April, and by that time there had arrived five divisions of infantry, three regiments of cavalry, the artillery division, and artillery reserve—making in all fifty-eight thousand men and one hundred guns.
This force was at once put in motion in the direction of
Yorktown, in front of which the remainder of the army joined as it arrived.
The region known as ‘the
Peninsula,’ on which the army thus found itself planted, is an isthmus formed by the
York and the
James rivers, which rising in the heart of
Virginia, and running in a southeasterly direction, empty into
Chesapeake Bay.
It is from seven to fifteen miles wide and fifty miles long.
The country is low and flat, in some places marshy, and generally wooded.
The
York River is formed by the confluence of the
Mattapony and
Pamunkey, which
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unite at
West Point.
Richmond, the objective of the operations of the Army of the Potomac, is on the left bank of the
James, at the head of navigation, and by land is distant seventy-five miles from
Fortress Monroe.
From
Fortress Monroe the advance was made in two columns—
General Keyes with the Fourth Corps (divisions of
Couch and
Smith) formed the left; and
General Heintzelman with the Third Corps (divisions of
Fitz-John Porter and
Hamilton, with
Averill's cavalry) and
Sedgwick's division of the Second Corps, the right.
At the very outset the roads were found nearly impracticable, the season being unusually wet. No resistance of moment was met on the march; but on the afternoon of the 5th of April the advance of each
column was brought to a halt—the right in front of
Yorktown and the left by the enemy's works at
Lee's Mill.
These obstructions formed part of the general defensive line of
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the
Warwick River, which
General Magruder had taken up, and which stretched across the isthmus from the
York to the
James, an extent of thirteen and a half miles. The Confederate left was formed by the fort at
Yorktown, the water batteries of which, with the guns at
Gloucester Point, on the opposite bank of the
York, barred the passage of that river; the right, by the works on
Mulberry Island, which were prolonged to the
James.
Warwick River, running nearly across the
Peninsula from river to river, and emptying into the
James, heads within a mile of
Yorktown.
Its sources were commanded by the guns of that fort, and its fords had been destroyed by dams defended by detached redoubts, the approaches to which were through dense forests and swamps.
Very imperfect or inaccurate information existed regarding the topography of the country at the time of the arrival of the army, and the true character of the position had to be developed by reconnoissances made under fire.
The Confederate defence of the peninsular approach to
Richmond had, almost since, the beginning of the war, been committed to a small force, named the Army of the Peninsula, under
General Magruder.
When the Army of the Potomac landed at
Fortress Monroe, this force numbered about eleven thousand men. At
Norfolk was an independent body of about eight thousand men under
General Huger.
The iron-plated
Merrimac, mistress of
Hampton Roads, barred the mouth of the
James, the direct water-line to
Richmond.
So soon as his antagonist's movement had become fully developed,
General Johnston put his army in motion from the
Rapidan towards
Richmond, where for a time he kept it in hand.
The Confederate leader did not expect to hold the
Peninsula; for both he and
General Lee, who then held the position of chief of staff to
Mr. Davis, pronounced it untenable.
Soon after the advent of the
Union army,
General Johnston went down to
Yorktown, examined its line of defences, and urged the military authorities at
Richmond to withdraw the force from the
Peninsula.
Assuming that the
Federal commander would, with the aid of the navy, reduce
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the fort at
Yorktown, thus opening up the
York River, and, by means of his numerous fleet of transports, pass rapidly to the head of the
Peninsula,
Johnston regarded the capture of any force remaining thereon as almost certain.
The works at
Yorktown he found very defective (though the position was naturally strong); for, owing to the paucity of engineers, resulting from the employment of so many of this class of officers in other arms, they had been constructed under the direction of civil and railroad engineers.
In this state of facts,
General Johnston wished to withdraw every thing from the
Peninsula, effect a general concentration of all available forces around
Richmond, and there deliver decisive battle.
2 These views were, however, overruled, and it was determined to hold
Yorktown at least until
Huger should have dismantled the fortifications at
Norfolk, destroyed the naval establishment, and evacuated the seaboard,—a step that was now felt to be a military necessity.
To carry out this policy, in view of which it was determined to hold the lines of
Yorktown as long as practicable, re-enforcements were from time to time sent forward from the army at
Richmond, and soon afterwards
General Johnston went down and personally took command.
In his plans for forcing the enemy's defences, there were two auxiliaries on which
General McClellan had confidently counted, and with these he expected to make short work of the operation of carrying
Yorktown.
The first of these auxiliaries was that of the navy, by the aid of whose powerful batteries he designed to reduce the strong place at
Yorktown, and then push a force immediately upon
West Point, at the head of the
York River, thus turning the line of defences on the
Warwick.
But, upon applying to
Flag-Officer Goldsborough for the co-operation of the navy, he was informed
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by that officer that no naval force could be spared for that purpose, as he regarded the works to be too strong for his available vessels.
3
The second project was to land a heavy force in the rear of
Gloucester Point, turning
Yorktown by that method, and opening up the
York River.
This task he had assigned to
McDowell's corps, which was to be the last to embark at
Alexandria, and which should execute this operation in case the army should find itself estopped by the peninsular defences.
But on that very day whereon the army arrived before
Yorktown,
General McClellan was met by an order
4 of the
President, to which allusion has already been made, detaching
McDowell's corps from his command, and retaining it in front of
Washington.
That this measure was faulty in principle and very unfortunate in its results, can now be readily acknowledged without imputing any really unworthy motive to
President Lincoln.
When
Mr. Lincoln saw the Army of the Potomac carried away in ships out of his sight, and learnt that hardly twenty thousand men had been left in the works of
Washington (though above thrice that number was within call), it is not difficult to understand how he should have become nervous as to the safety of the national capital, and, so feeling, should have retained the corps of
McDowell to guard it. In this he acted from what may be called the common-sense view of the matter.
But in war, as in the domain of science, the truth often transcends, and even contradicts, common sense.
It required more than common sense, it required the
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intuition of the true secret of war, to know that the twenty-five thousand men under
General McDowell would really avail more for the defence of the capital, if added to the Army of the Potomac on the
Peninsula, thus enabling that army to push vigorously its offensive intent, than if actually held in front of
Washington.
This
Mr. Lincoln neither knew nor could be expected to know; and it is precisely because the principles that govern military affairs are peculiar and of a professional nature, that the interference of civilians in the war-councils of a nation must commonly be disastrous.
The President, who found himself by virtue of his office made commander-in-chief of all the forces of the
United States, and who had, since the supersession of
McClellan as generalin-chief, assumed a species of general direction of the war, had passed his life in the arena of politics; and he brought the habits of a politician to affairs in which, unfortunately, their intrusion can only result in a confusion of all just relations.
This antagonism between the maxims that govern politics and those that govern military affairs, is strikingly illustrated in a sentence of one of
Mr. Lincoln's dispatches to
General McClellan about this time.
Referring to
McClellan's repeated requests that
McDowell's force should be sent him, the
President says: ‘I shall aid you all I can
consistently with my view of due regard to all points.’
5 Nothing could be more
naive than this statement of
Mr. Lincoln's policy of an equable distribution of favors.
But while this maxim is just in politics, it is fatal in war, and is precisely that once-honored
Austrian principle of ‘covering every thing, by which one really covers nothing.’
War is partial and imperious, and in place of having ‘regard to all points,’ it neglects many points to accumulate all on the
decisive point.
The decisive point in the case under discussion was assuredly with the Army of the Potomac confronting the main force of the enemy.
The proof of this was not long in declaring itself.
Thus deprived of the two auxiliaries on which he had
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counted,
General McClellan judged that there remained but one alternative—either to break the
Confederate lines of the
Peninsula, if a weak spot could be found, or to undertake systematic operations against
Yorktown, of the nature of a siege.
Such a weak spot it was indeed thought had been discovered about the centre of the line, near
Lee's Mill, where there was a dam covered by a battery; and with the view of determining the actual strength of this position,
General W. F. Smith, commanding the Second Division of the Fourth Corps, was ordered to push a strong reconnoissance over the
Warwick at that point.
Under cover of a heavy artillery fire from eighteen guns, under
Captain Ayres, four companies of
Vermont troops passed the creek, by wading breast-deep, and carried the rifle-trenches held by the
Confederates as an advanced line.
Here they were re-enforced by eight additional companies.
The enemy, upon being driven from the front line, retired to a redoubt in the rear, and there receiving a re-enforcement, made a counter-charge on the handful of Union troops, who were driven across the creek, after holding the rifle-pits for an hour, entirely unsupported.
Many were killed and wounded in recrossing the stream.
6 No subsequent attempt was made to break the
Confederate line.
It now remained to undertake the siege of the uninvested fortifications of
Yorktown,—a task to which the army at once settled down.
Depots were established at
Shipping Point, to which place supplies were brought direct by water; and indeed it was necessary to avoid land transportation as much as possible,—the roads being so few and so bad as to necessitate the construction of an immense amount of corduroy highway.
The first parallel was opened at about a mile from
Yorktown; and under its protection, batteries were established almost simultaneously along the whole front, extending from
York River on the right to the
Warwick on the left, along a cord of about one mile in length.
In all, fourteen batteries and three redoubts, fully armed, and including some
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unusually heavy metal, such as one-hundred and twohundred-pounders, were erected to operate in the reduction of a strong place.
The batteries as completed were, with a single exception,
7 not allowed to open, as it was believed that the return fire would interfere with the labor on other works.
It was preferred to wait till the preparations should be complete, and then open a simultaneous and overwhelming bombardment.
This period would have been reached by the 6th of May at latest.
The artillery and engineer officers judged that a very few hours' fire would compel the surrender or evacuation of the works; but, to their great chagrin, no opportunity was afforded to bring this professional opinion to the practical test; for it was discovered on the 4th of May that the
Confederates had evacuated
Yorktown.
8 The retreat had been managed with the same masterly skill that marked the evacuation of
Manassas; and the Army of the Potomac, cheated of its anticipated brilliant passage at arms, came into possession only of the deserted works and some threescore and ten siege-guns, that the
Confederates had been obliged to leave as the price of their unmolested retreat.
In the preceding outline of the siege of
Yorktown, I have confined myself to a simple recital of events.
It is well
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known, however, that no portion of
General McClellan's milttary career has given rise to a greater amount of criticism, or criticism founded less on the intrinsic merits of the case.
The critique of operations before
Yorktown will turn on the solution of the question whether the siege should have been made at all, or whether the
Confederate position should not have been either broken or turned.
It has already been stated that the latter course — to wit, the turning of
Yorktown—was
General McClellan's original plan.
To this duty
McDowell's corps was assigned; but on the very day he arrived before
Yorktown he received the order detaching
McDowell's force from his command.
The effect of this measure is set forth with much emphasis by
General McClellan. ‘To me,’ says he, ‘the blow was most discouraging.
It frustrated all my plans for impending operations.
It fell when I was too deeply committed to withdraw.
It left me incapable of continuing operations which had been begun.
It compelled the adoption of another, a different and less effective plan of campaign.
It made rapid and brilliant operations impossible.
It was a fatal error.’
There will probably be no question as to the merits of the proposed movement by which it was designed to turn
Gloucester Point and open up the
York River; and the verdict will be equally clear as to the ill-judged policy—to put it at the mildest—which, at such a moment, took out of the commander's hand a corps destined for a duty so important.
But it is not entirely clear that ‘rapid and brilliant operations’ were not still feasible.
General McClellan before he began the siege had with him a force of eighty thousand men; and it may be queried whether he could not from this force have still detached a corps of twenty-five thousand men to execute the movement designed for
McDowell.
The holding of his line in front of
Yorktown—a line of seven or eight miles—would, to make it secure against offensive action on the enemy's part, require about forty thousand men. Now, the detachment of a column of twenty-five thousand would still have left him fifty-five thousand men. Moreover, one
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division of
McDowell's corps—that of
Franklin, eleven thousand strong—did actually reach
McClellan while the siege was in progress, and he held it on shipboard with the view of intrusting to it the task which the entire corps of
McDowell had originally been expected to perform.
Subsequently, however, he concluded that it was unequal to the work.
But, re-enforced by another division, might it not have been sufficient?
In proof of this it may be pointed out that, on the retreat of
Johnston from
Yorktown,
Franklin's division
9 alone was assigned to a similar and equally difficult duty—to move on the flank of the Confederate army by way of
West Point.
The question now remains, whether an attempt should have been made to break the enemy's lines.
The total force under
Magruder at the time of the arrival of the Army of the Potomac before his position was, according to
Magruder's own testimony, eleven thousand men. More than half this force, however, was on garrison duty.
‘I was compelled,’ says he, ‘to place in
Gloucester Point,
Yorktown, and
Mulberry Island, fixed garrisons, amounting to six thousand men. So that it will be seen that the balance of my line, embracing a length of thirteen miles, was defended by about five thousand men.’
10 It appears that
General Magruder fully expected, after the preliminary reconnoissances, that a serious attack would be made; and in this expectation his men slept in the trenches and under arms.
‘To my surprise,’ he adds, ‘he [McClellan] permitted day after day to pass without an assault.
In a few days, the object of his delay was apparent.
In every direction in front of our lines, through the intervening woods, and along the open fields, earthworks began to appear.
Through the energetic action of the
Government, reenforcements began to pour in, and each hour the Army of the Peninsula grew stronger and stronger, until anxiety passed from my mind as to the result of an attack upon us.’
11
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It is possible, however—and there is a considerable volume of evidence converging on this point—that
General McClellan, during all the earlier portion of the month before
Yorktown, had it in his mind, even without
McDowell's corps, to undertake the decisive turning movement by the north side of the
York.
In this event, it would not only be in the direction of his plan to make no attack, but it would play into his hands that his opponent should accumulate his forces on the
Peninsula.
Yet this halting between two opinions had the result that, when he had abandoned the purpose of making the turning movement, it had become too late for him to make a direct attack—‘all anxiety’ as to the result of which had by that time ‘passed from the mind’ of his opponent.
From subsequent evidence, it would appear that a movement, not with the view of assaulting the fortifications of
Yorktown (that would have been a bloody enterprise), but of breaking the line of the
Warwick, thus investing
Yorktown, if not compelling its immediate evacuation, was an operation holding out a reasonable promise of success.
12
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It was not, indeed, a
certain operation, for the impracticable character of the country made the handling of troops very difficult; but vigorous measures were at the time so urgent that a considerable risk might well have been run. It was certain that the enemy would improve all the time allowed him to prepare new fortifications before
Richmond, and assemble all his scattered forces for the defence of his capital.
But just in proportion as time was valuable to him was the obligation imposed on
General McClellan of not allowing him this time.
It is now known that the Confederate government made good use of the month of grace allowed it by the siege of
Yorktown; for not only were vigorous military measures taken, but at this very period the Confederate Congress passed the first conscription act, which gave
Mr. Davis absolute control of the military resources of the
South.
The proper method of meeting this was to have re-enforced the Army of the Potomac and organized reserves.
But this was far from the views of those who controlled the war-councils at
Washington; and the
President, who had for the time being taken into his own hands the functions of general-in-chief, gave one constant
mot d'ordre—‘take
Yorktown,’ —a command that reminds one of the story in Spanish history which runs in this wise: ‘When the reports of these matters reached Philip IV., he was disposed to entertain some prejudice against his general, and took on himself to give his own direction for the war, without consulting
Spinola.
His majesty directed that Breda should be besieged, and when it was represented that it was needful to make many preparations for an operation of that magnitude, the king sat down and wrote this laconic order to his general: “
Marquis, take Breda.
I, the King” (Yo, el
Rey).’
If
Yorktown was at length taken without a combat and without blood, it was not without severe and exhausting labors in the siege.
The victory, though apparently barren, was really more substantial than it seemed; and had
General Johnston, in place of becoming alarmed at the preparations against him, determined to fight it out on the line of the
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Warwick, there is little doubt that he might have prolonged the siege indefinitely.
The
morale of the
Union troops was excellent; and the road to
Richmond being now opened, the men turned their faces hopefully towards the Mecca of all their pilgrimages.
Ii.
From Yorktown to the Chickahominy.
Upon the discovery of
Johnston's withdrawal from
Yorktown, all the available cavalry, together with four batteries of horse-artillery, under
General Stoneman, was ordered in pursuit.
The divisions of
Hooker and
Smith were at the same time sent forward in support, and afterwards the divisions of
Kearney,
Couch, and
Casey were put in motion.
General Sumner, the officer second in rank in the Army of the Potomac, was ordered to the front to take charge of operations, while
General McClellan remained behind at
Yorktown to arrange for the departure of
Franklin's division by water to
West Point.
By this move it was expected to force the
Confederates to abandon whatever works they might have on the
Peninsula below that point.
Stoneman met little opposition till he reached the enemy's prepared position in front of
Williamsburg, twelve miles from
Yorktown.
The
Peninsula here contracts, and the approaching heads of two tributaries of the
York and
James rivers form a kind of narrow isthmus upon which the two roads leading from
Yorktown to
Williamsburg unite.
Commanding the
debouche was an extensive work with a bastion front, named Fort Magruder, and, to the right and left, on the prolongation of the line, were twelve other redoubts and epaulments for field-guns.
These works had been prepared by the
Confederates many months before.
Now, this position, though a strong one so long as its flanks were secured by the closing of the rivers on either side, was one which evidently
General Johnston had no intention
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of occupying; for, by the opening up of the
York, the line of
Williamsburg was exposed to be immediately turned.
The Confederate army had, in fact, passed through
Williamsburg towards the
Chickahominy, and only a rear-guard re-
mained to cover the trains.
When, however,
Stoneman, on the afternoon of the 4th, drew up in front of the redoubts,
Johnston, seeing pursuit to be serious, brought back troops into the works; and thus, by a kind of accident, there ensued on the morrow the bloody encounter known as the
battle of Williamsburg.
Stoneman, on his arrival in front of
Williamsburg, had a passage at arms with the Confederate cavalry; but, finding the position too strong to carry, he stood on the defensive, awaiting the arrival of the infantry.
Now, such was the confusion that attended this hurried march, that by the time
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Sumner could get up his advance divisions and make dispositions for attack, darkness ensued, and the men bivouacked in the woods.
During the night a heavy rain came on, rendering the roads almost impassable.
In the morning,
Hooker's division had taken position on the left, and
Smith's on the right; the other divisions had not yet come up. The attack was opened by
General Hooker in front of Fort Magruder.
Having cleared the space in his front, he advanced two batteries
13 to within seven hundred yards of the fort, and, by nine o'clock, silenced its fire.
But now the enemy began to develop strongly on his left,
14 and, as re-enforcements arrived, made a series of determined attacks with the view of turning that flank.
These attacks were made with constantly increasing pressure, and bore heavily on
Hooker.
That officer had taken care to open communication with the
Yorktown road, on which fresh troops were to come up; yet, notwithstanding the repeated requests made by him for the assistance he sorely needed, none came.
15 He was therefore compelled to engage the enemy during the whole day; and, between three and four o'clock, his ammunition began to give out, so that some of his shattered brigades were forced to confront the enemy with no other cartridges than those they gathered from the boxes of their fallen comrades.
16 At length, between four and five o'clock,
Kearney's division, which had been ordered in the morning to go to the support of
Hooker, but had met great delay in passing the masses of troops and trains that obstructed the single deep muddy defile, arrived.
Learning the condition of
Hooker's men,
Kearney took up his division at the double-quick, attacked
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spiritedly, re-established the line, and enabled
Hooker's worn-out troops to withdraw.
Hooker lost one thousand seven hundred men.
While, during the morning, the fight thus waxed hot in front of Fort Magruder, the troops on the right, composed exclusively of
General Smith's division, had not engaged the enemy; but towards noon,
Sumner ordered
General Smith to send one of his brigades to occupy a redoubt on the extreme right, said to be evacuated by the enemy.
For this purpose,
Hancock's brigade was selected.
17 Making a wide detour to the right, which brought him within sight of the
York River,
Hancock passed Cub Dam Creek on an old mill-bridge, and took possession of the work indicated, which he found unoccupied.
Twelve hundred yards in advance, another redoubt was discovered in the same condition, and this also he quietly took possession of.
The position which, through the carelessness of the
Confederates,
18 Hancock had thus seized, proved to be a very important one, having a crest and natural glacis on either side, and entirely commanding the plain between it and Fort Magruder.
He had in fact debouched on the flank and rear of the
Confederate line of defence.
On reconnoitring what lay beyond, there were found to be two more redoubts between the position and the fort.
These seemed to be occupied by
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at least some force.
Hancock put his battery into position to play upon these works, and a few shells and the fire of the skirmishers proved sufficient to drive the
Confederates from their cover; but he did not deem it prudent to occupy them, until re-enforcements should arrive.
It was not till now that the
Confederate commander, whose attention had been absorbed in the attack of
Hooker on his right, became aware of this menacing movement on his left; but being apprised of the danger, he immediately took measures to meet it. Now it happened that precisely at this juncture,
Hancock, instead of receiving the re-enforcements he had repeatedly and urgently sent for, got a message from
General Sumner, instructing him to fall back to his first position.
19 Hancock, appreciating the commanding importance of his position, delayed doing so as long as possible.
But about five o'clock, seeing that the
Confederates were in motion on his front, that they had reoccupied the two redoubts from which they were last driven, and that they were threatening both his flanks, he retired his troops behind the crest.
Here he formed his line with about one thousand six hundred men, being determined to remain.
Waiting till the advancing enemy got below the rise of the hill, and within thirty paces, he ordered a general charge.
This was executed in a very spirited manner: a few of the enemy who had approached nearest were bayoneted;
20 the rest broke and fled in all directions, and the
Confederate flanking force, finding their centre routed, also beat a hasty retreat.
21 Shortly after the action was decided,
General Smith, by order of
General Mc-Clellan, who had reached the front and appreciated the position secured by
Hancock, brought up strong re-enforcements.
At the same time the firing ceased in front of Fort Magruder, and the troops, wet, weary, and hungry, rested on their arms.
But
Williamsburg was really won., for
Hancock held the key
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of the position; and during the night,
Longstreet retired to join the body of
Johnston's army, now rapidly marching towards the
Chickahominy.
22
While the action before
Williamsburg was going on,
General Franklin was embarking his division for the purpose of ascending the
York River by water.
This was accomplished on the following day, and on the morning of the 7th he had completed the disembarkation of his division opposite
West Point, on the right bank of the
Pamunkey, a short distance above where that river empties into the
York.
But on attempting to advance,
Franklin was met by the
Confederate division of
Whiting, whose presence, and a spirited attack of
Hood's Texas brigade, served to hold
Franklin in check.
The operations here described, constituting the pursuit of the
Confederates (which really ended at
Williamsburg), are open to criticism.
The pursuit was made on two lines, by land and by water, and
Johnston skilfully disposed his echelons to meet both advances.
The move by water, which was the most promising, since it menaced the enemy's flank, was not made in sufficient force, and presented merely the character of a detachment on the
Confederate rear,—a species of operation which is seldom successful.
Besides, it started too late and arrived too late.
23 It could be of no avail, unless supported by the whole army coming from
Williamsburg.
24 But there was no assurance that this could be, for the existence of the defences of
Williamsburg, where the
Confederates were sure, if need be, to make a stand, was known.
25
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The action at
Williamsburg was very unfortunate, though
General McClellan cannot be held responsible for it, unless he may be blamed for remaining behind at
Yorktown to superintend the getting off of
Franklin's expedition.
But to blame him for this would be hardly warrantable.
He was within easy communication with the advance, which was placed under orders of his lieutenant,
General Sumner; and he had a right to suppose that he would be kept informed of every thing of importance occurring in the front.
Yet he was left entirely unaware, till the afternoon, that any thing but a trivial affair of the rear-guard had taken place.
Sumner, that model of a
soldier though not of a
general, had too much the fire of the
vietux sabreur to allow his head to work coolly and clearly in situations where that temper of mind was most needed; and his conduct of affairs at
Williamsburg was marked by great confusion.
So contradictory were his orders, that with thirty thousand men within three or four miles of the position, the division of
Hooker was left to bear alone the brunt of successive severe attacks; and the result was the loss of above two thousand men,
26 without any corresponding gain.
Hooker's fight was really quite unnecessary; for the difficult obstacles against which he had to contend might have been easily turned by the right.
This was actually done at last by the flank movement of
General Hancock, who, with slight loss, determined the issue.
On the retreat of the
Confederates from
Williamsburg, the Army of the Potomac was pushed forward as rapidly as the horrible condition of the roads would permit, on a line parallel with the
York and
Pamunkey; and on the 16th of May headquarters and the advance divisions reached
White House, at the head of navigation of the latter stream.
From that point the York River Railroad runs due west to
Richmond, distant eighteen miles. Great depots were established at
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White House, to which supplies were brought by water, and the columns moved forward on the line of the
York River and Richmond Railroad; which, repaired as the army proceeded, became its line of communication with the base at
White House.
Thus the divisions advanced till they reached the
Chickahominy, and by the 21st they were posted in echelon along the left or north bank of that stream, destined soon to become the scene of stirring events.
27
The consummate strategist that had directed the skilful withdrawal from
Yorktown and checked the advance of the
Union columns at
Williamsburg now proceeded to gather the Confederate forces around the lines of
Richmond.
In the exposition I have already given of
Johnston's plan of operations to meet the advance of the
Union army against
Richmond, it has been indicated that it was his fixed purpose to refuse battle until his opponent should approach that city.
Having now retired behind the line of the
Chickahominy, he proceeded to urge upon the
Richmond administration the policy of an immediate concentration of all available forces at that point, as affording the best means for a true defence of
Richmond by a vigorous assumption of the offensive at the proper moment.
Johnston found fully as much difficulty in impressing his views upon the cabinet at
Richmond, as Me-
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Clellan did in impressing his on the cabinet at
Washington.
Nevertheless, in accordance with his counsels, the abandonment of
Norfolk was ordered; and
General Huger, after destroying the dockyards and removing the stores, evacuated that place on the 10th of May, and withdrew its garrison to unite with the army in front of
Richmond.
On the next day it was occupied by a Union force, led by
General Wool, from
Fortress Monroe. One important consequence of the evacuation of
Norfolk was the destruction of the
Merrimac, which vessel proving to have too great a draft of water to proceed up the
James to
Richmond, was on the following day blown up by order of her commander,
Commodore Tatnall.
This at once opened the river to the advance of the Union gunboats; and immediately afterwards a fleet, composed of the Monitor,
Galena, Aroostook,
Port Royal, and Naugatuck, under
Commodore Rodgers, ascended the
James, with the view of opening the water highway to
Richmond.
Within twelve miles of the city, however, the vessels were arrested by the guns of
Fort Darling, on Drury's Bluff, and after a four hours engagement, in which the
Galena received severe damage, and the one-hundred-pounder
Parrott on the
Naugatuck was burst, the fleet was compelled to withdraw.
It was not these events, however, that determined Mc-Clellan's line of advance on
Richmond by the
York rather than by the
James; for the former course had already been dictated to him by antecedent circumstances.
Before the destruction of the
Merrimac had opened the opportunity of swinging across to the
James, the army was already well
en route by the
York and
Pamunkey, under injunctions to push forward on that line for the purpose of uniting with a column under
McDowell, which was about to move from
Fredericksburg towards
Richmond.
As this circumstance exercised a controlling influence on the campaign, and powerfully affected its character and results, I shall enter into its exposition at some length in the succeeding chapter.
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III.
Confederate strategy on the Chickahominy and in the Valley of the Shenandoah.
The brilliant historian of the war in the
Spanish Peninsula lays down the maxim that ‘military operations are so dependent upon accidental circumstances, that, to justly censure, it should always be shown that an unsuccessful general has violated the received maxims and established principles of war.’
28 Now as
General McClellan's offensive movement towards
Richmond really ended with the establishment of his army on the
Chickahominy, and as the narrative of events to follow will show the enemy in an offensive attitude, and the army whose proper
role was the aggressive reduced to the defensive, and finally compelled to retreat, it will be in place to follow attentively the course and causes of action with the view to discover whether the untoward events that befell the
Union arms be traceable to any departure from those ‘established principles of war,’ the violation of which furnishes a just ground of censure.
Upon
McClellan's arrival on the
Chickahominy, there were two objects which he had to keep in view: to secure a firm footing on the
Richmond side of that stream with the view of carrying out the primal purpose of the campaign, and at the same time to so dispose his forces as to insure the junction of
McDowell's column from
Fredericksburg with the force before
Richmond.
The former purpose was accomplished by throwing the left wing of the Army of the Potomac across the
Chickahominy at Bottom's Bridge, which the
Confederates had left uncovered.
Casey's division of
Keyes' corps crossed on the 20th of May, and occupied the opposite
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heights.
Heintzelman's corps was then thrown forward in support, and Bottom's Bridge was immediately rebuilt.
To secure the second object,
McClellan extended his right wing well northward, and on the 24th carried the village of
Mechanicsville, forcing the enemy across the
Chickahominy at the
Mechanicsville Bridge which the
Confederates after crossing destroyed.
He then awaited the march of
McDowell to join him, in order to initiate operations against
Richmond.
I must now turn aside to show in what manner the object of this movement was baulked by the skill of the
Confederates and the folly of those who controlled the operations of the
Union armies.
At the time the Army of the Potomac was toiling painfully up the
Peninsula towards
Richmond, the remaining forces in
Northern Virginia presented the extraordinary spectacle of three distinct armies, planted on three separate lines of operations, under three independent commanders.
The highland region of
West Virginia had been formed into the Mountain Department under command of
General Fremont; the
Valley of the Shenandoah constituted the Department of the Shenandoah under
General Banks; and the region covered by the direct lines of approach to
Washington had been erected into the ‘Department of the Rappahannock,’ and assigned to
General McDowell at the time his corps was detached from the Army of the Potomac.
About the period reached by the narrative of events on the
Peninsula, these armies were distributed as follows:
General Fremont with a force of fifteen thousand men at
Franklin,
General Banks with a force of about sixteen thousand men at
Strasburg, and
General McDowell with a force of thirty thousand men at
Fredericksburg on the
Rappahannock.
It need hardly be said that this arrangement, the like of which has not been seen since
Napoleon scandalized the Austrians by destroying in succession half a dozen of their armies distributed after precisely this fashion—nor indeed was ever seen before, save in periods of the eclipse of all military judgment—was in violation of the true
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principles of war. One hardly wishes to inquire by whose crude and fatuitous inspiration these things were done; but such was the spectacle presented by the
Union forces in
Virginia: the main army already held in check on the
Chickahominy, and these detached columns inviting destruction in detail.
Not to have taken advantage of such an opportunity would have shown
General Johnston to be a tyro in his trade.
It came about, after the commencement of active operations on the
Peninsula had drawn towards
Richmond the main force of the
Confederates and relieved the front of
Washington from the pressure of their presence, that the Administration, growing more easy touching the safety of the capital, determined, in response to
General McClellan's oft-repeated appeals for re-enforcements, to send forward
McDowell's corps,—not, indeed, as he desired, to re-enforce him by water, but to advance overland to attack
Richmond in co-operation with the Army of the Potomac.
To this end, the division of
Shields was detached from the command of
General Banks in the Shenandoah Valley, and given to
General McDowell; and this addition brought the latter's force up to forty-one thousand men and one hundred guns.
General McClellan had received official notification of this intended movement; and on the march from
Williamsburg to the
Chickahominy, as has been shown, he threw his right wing well forward, so as to insure the junction of
McDowell's force, when it should move forward from
Fredericksburg.
29 After numerous delays, the time of advance of this column was at length fixed for the 26th of May, a date closely coincident with the arrival of the Army of the Potomac on the
Chickahominy.
The head of
McDowell's column had already been pushed eight miles
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south of
Fredericksburg; and
McClellan, to clear all opposition from his path, sent forward
Porter's corps to
Hanover Junction, where he had a sharp encounter with a force of the enemy under
General Branch, whom he repulsed with a loss of two hundred killed and seven hundred prisoners, and established the right of the Army of the Potomac within fifteen miles, or one march, of
McDowell's van.
McDowell was eager to advance, and
McClellan was equally anxious for his arrival, when there happened an event which frustrated this plan and all the hopes that had been based thereon.
This event was the irruption of
Stonewall Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley.
The keen-eyed soldier at the head of the main Confederate army, discerning the intended junction between
McDowell and
McClellan, quickly seized his opportunity, and intrusted the execution of a bold
coup to that vigorous lieutenant who had already made the
Valley ring with his exploits.
Jackson, on retiring from his last raid in the Shenandoah Valley, which had ended in his repulse by
Shields at
Winchester (March 27), had retreated up the
Valley by way of
Harrisonburg, and turning to the
Blue Ridge, took up a position between the south fork of the
Shenandoah and Swift Run Gap.
Here he was retained by
Johnston, after the main body of the Confederate army had been drawn in towards
Richmond.
Jackson was joined by
Ewell's division from
Gordonsville on the 30th April, and at the same time he received the further accession of the two brigades of
General Edward Johnson, who had held an independent command in
Southwest Virginia.
This raised his force to about fifteen thousand men.
Banks' force, reduced by the detachment of
Shields' division, sent to
General McDowell, to about five thousand men, was posted at
Harrisonburg.
Fremont was at
Franklin, across the mountains; but one of his brigades, under
Milroy, had burst beyond the limits of the Mountain Department, and seemed to be moving to make a junction with
Banks, with the design, as
Jackson thought, of advancing on
Staunton.
Jackson determined to attack these forces in
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detail.
Accordingly, he posted
Ewell so as to hold
Banks in check, whilst he himself moved to
Staunton.
From here he threw forward five brigades, under
General Edward Johnson (May 7), to attack
Milroy.
The latter retreated to his mountain fastness, and took position at a point named
McDowell, where, re-enforced by the brigade of
Schenck, he engaged
Johnson, but was forced to retire on
Fremont's main body at
Franklin.
Having thus thrown off
Milroy eccentrically from communication with
Banks,
Jackson returned (May 14) to destroy the force under that officer.
But during
Jackson's pursuit of
Milroy,
Banks, discovering his danger, had retired to
Strasburg, followed by
Ewell.
Jackson therefore followed also, and at
New Market he formed a junction with
Ewell.
Instead of marching direct on
Strasburg, however,
Jackson diverged on a line to the eastward by way of Luray Valley, and moved on
Front Royal, with the view of cutting off
Banks' retreat from
Strasburg, interposing between him and reenforcements, and compelling his surrender.
The 23d he entered
Front Royal, capturing the garrison of seven hundred men there under
Colonel Kenly; and thence he moved to
Middletown by a road to the right of the main Valley road, hoping there to cut off
Banks.
But the latter was too quick for him: so that when he reached
Middletown, he struck only the rear of the retreating Union column.
Banks, with his small force, offered such resistance as he could to the advance of
Jackson, and took position on the heights of
Winchester (May 24), where he gave fight, till, being assailed on both flanks, he retired hastily to the north bank of the
Potomac (May 25), making a march of fifty-three miles in forty-eight hours.
Jackson continued the pursuit as far as
Halltown, within two miles of
Harper's Ferry, where he remained till the 30th, when, finding heavy forces converging on his rear, he began a retrograde movement up the
Valley.
The tidings of
Jackson's apparition at
Winchester on the 24th, and his subsequent advance to
Harper's Ferry, fell like a thunderbolt on the war-council at
Washington.
The order for
McDowell's advance from
Fredericksburg, to unite with
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McClellan, was instantly countermanded; and he was directed to put twenty thousand men in motion at once for the Shenandoah Valley, by the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad.
30 McDowell obeyed, but, to use his own language, ‘with a heavy heart,’ for he knew, what any man capable of surveying the situation with a soldier's eye must have known, that the movement ordered was not only most futile in itself, but certain to paralyze the operations of the main army and frustrate that campaign against
Richmond on the issue of which hung the fortune of the war. In vain he pointed out that it was impossible for him either to succor
Banks or co-operate with
Fremont; that his line of advance from
Fredericksburg to
Front Royal was much longer than the enemy's line of retreat; that it would take him a week or ten days to reach the
Valley, and that by this time the occasion for his services would have passed by. In vain
General McClellan urged the real motive of the raid—to prevent re-enforcements from reaching him. Deaf to all sounds of reason, the war-council at
Washington, like the
Dutch States-General, of whom Prince Eugene said, that ‘always interfering, they were always dying with fear,’
31 heard only the reverberations of the guns of the redoubtable
Jackson.
To head off
Jackson, if possible to catch
Jackson, seemed now the one important thing; and the result of the cogitations of the
Washington strategists was the preparation of what the
President called a ‘trap’ for
Jackson—a ‘trap’ for the wily fox who was master of every gap and gorge in the
Valley!
Now this pretty scheme involved the converging movements of
Fremont from
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the west, and
McDowell from the east, upon
Strasburg.
The two columns moved rapidly; they had almost effected a junction on the 31st; but that very day
Jackson, falling back from
Harper's Ferry, slipped between the two, and made good his retreat up the
Valley, leaving his opponents to follow in a long and fruitless
Chevy Chase, all the time a day behind.
The pursuers did their best: they pushed on,
Fremont following in the path of
Jackson up the
Valley of the Shenandoah; while
McDowell sent forward
Shields' division by the lateral Luray Valley, with a view to head him off when he should attempt to break through the gaps of the
Blue Ridge.
Jackson reached
Harrisonburg on the 5th of June;
Fremont the next day. There
Jackson diverged eastward to cross the
Shenandoah at
Port Republic, the only point where there was a bridge.
Shields was moving up the east side of the river, was close at hand, and might prevent his crossing, or might form a junction with
Fremont.
Both results were to be prevented.
Jackson threw forward his own division to
Port Republic (June 7) to cover the bridge; and left
Ewell's division five miles back on the road on which
Fremont was following—the road from
Harrisonburg to
Port Republic.
Next
day Fremont attacked
Ewell's five brigades, with the view of turning his right and getting through to the bridge at
Port Republic to make a junction with
Shields.
At the same time
Shields attacked the bridge on the east side, to make a junction with
Fremont.
The result was that
Ewell repulsed
Fremont, while
Jackson held
Shields in check.
Early next morning, drawing in
Ewell and concentrating his forces,
Jackson threw himself across the river, burned the bridge to prevent
Fremont from following; fell upon
Shields' advance, consisting of two brigades under
General Tyler, and repulsed him, capturing his artillery.
The former of these affairs figures in history as the
battle of Cross Keys, and the latter as the
battle of Port Republic.
In this exciting month's campaign,
Jackson made great captures of stores and prisoners; but this was not its chief
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result.
Without gaining a single tactical victory he had yet achieved a great strategic victory, for by skilfully manoeuvring fifteen thousand men he succeeded in neutralizing a force of sixty thousand.
It is perhaps not too much to say that he saved
Richmond; for when
McClellan, in expectation that Mc-Dowell might still be allowed to come and join him, threw forward his right wing, under
Porter, to Hanover Courthouse, on the 26th of June, the echoes of his cannon bore to those in
Richmond who knew the situation of the two Union armies the knell of the capital of the
Confederacy.
32 McDowell never went forward—was never allowed, eager though he was, to go forward.
Well-intentioned though we must believe the motives to have been of those who counselled the course that led to the consequences thus delineated, the historian must not fail to point out the folly of an act that must remain an impressive illustration of what must be expected when men violate the established principles of war.
Iv.
The battle of Fair Oaks.
It is easy to see the perilous position in which the events just recited placed the Army of the Potomac.
Had
McClellan been free immediately after the
battle of Williamsburg, when the destruction of the
Merrimac opened up the
James River as a highway of supplies, to transfer his army to that line, it is easy to see that he would have avoided those dangers of the other line whereof the enemy finally took such energetic advantage.
I have already set forth the circumstances that dictated his advance by the line of the
York and the
Pamunkey—to wit, the expected march of
McDowell's column from
Fredericksburg for the purpose of joining the Army of the Potomac—and I have detailed the events whereby that column was prevented from making its anticipated
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march.
Now, it was almost simultaneous with the establishment of the base at
White House that
McDowell's column was turned aside from its contemplated co-operation with the Army of the Potomac, and diverted to the Shenandoah Valley.
Knowing this fact,
General McClellan knew that the hope of further re-enforcements was vain, and it was incumbent on him to act vigorously with his proper force.
He knew that the presence of
Jackson's corps in the Shenandoah Valley neutralized a force of fifteen thousand men that was certain to be brought against him if he should delay.
Besides, he was making an offensive movement in which vigorous action was above all requisite; for when once the offensive has been assumed, it must be sustained to the last extremity.
Yet, having reached the
Chickahominy, he assumed an almost passive attitude, with his army, too, cut in twain by that fickle and difficult stream.
Now, though a position
á cheval on a river is not one which a general willingly assumes, it is frequently a necessity, and in that case he spans the stream with numerous bridges.
33 It was necessary for
General McClellan to pass the
Chickahominy because it crossed his line of manoeuvre against
Richmond; and it was also necessary for him to leave a force on the eastern side to cover his communications with his base at the
White House; but this is not a situation in which one would assume a passive attitude with few and very imperfect connections between the divided wings.
The passage of the
Chickahominy was made by
Casey's division at Bottom's Bridge on the 20th of May, and by the 25th the corps of
Keyes and
Heintzelman were established on the right bank.
Meantime, the corps of
Sumner,
Porter, and
Franklin remained on the left bank.
By the 28th,
Sumner had constructed two bridges
34 for the passage of his corps; but
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up to the time when the
Confederate commander assumed the initiative on the 31st, no provision was made for the crossing of the right wing, and the re-enforcement of that wing by the left involved a detour of twenty-three miles,— a distance quite too great for the possibility of re-enforcement in the fierce emergency of battle.
Materials for three bridges
35 to be used in the passage of the right wing were indeed prepared, and by the 28th of May
36 these bridges were all ready to be laid.
But, meantime, they were not laid, and the two wings were suffered to remain separated by the
Chickahominy, and without adequate means of communication.
The Chickahominy rises in the highlands northwest of
Richmond, and enveloping it on the north and east, empties into the
James many miles below that city, and after describing around it almost the quadrant of a circle.
In itself this river does not form any considerable barrier to the advance of an army; but with its accessories it constitutes one of the most formidable military obstacles imaginable.
The stream flows through a belt of heavily timbered swamp.
The tops of the trees rise just about to the level of the crests of the highlands bordering the bottom, thus perfectly screening from view the bottom-lands and slopes of the highlands on the enemy's side.
Through this belt of swamp the stream flows sometimes in a single channel, more frequently divided into several, and when but a foot or two above its summer level, overspreads the whole swamp.
The bottom-lands between the swamp and the highlands, in width from three-quarters of a mile to a mile and a quarter, are little elevated at their margin above the swamp, so that a rise of the stream by a
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few feet, overflows large areas of these bottoms, and even when not overflowed they are spongy and impracticable for cavalry and artillery.
37
In this state of facts,
McClellan's disposition of his army must be considered a grave fault, and inaction in such a situation was in the highest degree dangerous.
‘A general,’ says the
Archduke Charles, ‘must suppose that his opponent will do against him whatever he ought to do.’
Now, for
Johnston to omit to strike one or the other of these exposed wings, was to neglect that principle which forms the whole secret of war—to be superior to your enemy at the point of collision: it was, in fact, to overpass a unique opportunity of delivering a decisive blow.
The Confederate commander was not the man to let slip such an opportunity; and, so soon as reconnoissances had fully developed the position of that portion of the
Union army which lay on the
Richmond side of the Chickahomy, he determined to act. It was a situation in which, by bringing two-thirds of his own force to bear against one-third of the
Union force, he might hope not merely to defeat but to destroy the exposed wing.
By the 30th of May he had formed his resolution, and he immediately made preparations for carrying it into effect on the following day.
38 During the
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night of the 30th, there came a storm of unwonted violence; and this circumstance, while it would embarrass the execution of
Johnston's proposed plan, at the same time gave that general the hope of making the operation still more complete from the situation in which it would place his opponent.
The reconnoissances of the
Confederates had disclosed the fact that
Casey's division of
Keyes' corps held an advanced
position on the
Williamsburg road, three-quarters of a mile beyond the point known as
Seven Pines and about six miles from
Richmond.
Couch's division of the same corps was stationed at
Seven Pines, on both sides of the
Williamsburg road and along theNine-mile road, his right resting at Fair Oaks Station, on the Richmond and York River Railroad.
Of the two divisions of
Heintzelman's corps, that of
Kearney was on the
Williamsburg road and the railroad, three-quarters of a mile in advance of Savage Station; and that
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of
Hooker was guarding the approaches of the
White Oak Swamp.
In this state of facts,
Johnston made the following dispositions for attack:
Hill (D. H.), who had been covering the
Williamsburg and
Charles City road, was directed to move his division, supported by the division of
Longstreet, out on the
Williamsburg road, but not to move till
Huger's division, which was to move out on the
Charles City road, should relieve him.
Huger's duty was to strike the left flank of the
Union force which
Hill and
Longstreet should engage in front.
G. W. Smith, with his division, was to advance on the right flank of the
Union force, to the junction of the
New Bridge road with theNine-mile road, there to be in readiness either to fall on
Keyes' right or to cover
Longstreet's left.
39 The divisions were to move at daybreak; but the horrible condition of the roads, resulting from the storm, greatly retarded the movement of the troops.
Hill,
Longstreet, and
Smith, indeed, were in position by eight o'clock; but not so
Huger.
For hour after hour,
Longstreet and
Hill awaited in vain the signal-gun that was to announce
Huger's arrival in his proper position.
At length, at ten o'clock,
Hill40 went forward on the
Williamsburg road,
41 and presently struck
Casey's division.
The advance position beyond
Seven Pines, held by that officer, was defended by a redoubt, rifle-pit, and abatis; but, at this time, these works were only in process of construction, and the troops were, indeed, engaged at this work when the attack was made.
42 The pickets were quickly driven in, and
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the more so that a regiment
43 sent forward to support the picket-line gave way without making much if any resistance.
The first blow fell upon
Naglee's
44 brigade, which held a position in advance of the redoubt, where it made a good fight and held the enemy in check for a considerable time, and then retired and fought with the rest of the division in the redoubt and rifle-pits—the force being strengthened by
Peck's brigade sent forward by
General Couch.
The Confederates advanced in close columns, and suffered severely from the fire of the batteries in front of and in the redoubt.
Presently, however, one of their brigades, which had been sent round on the left of
Casey, gained the rear of the redoubt.
45 When, therefore, a severe flank fire was opened by the force that had made this detour, the division crumbled away, the guns in the redoubt and a portion of those of the battery in front were captured,
46
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and such of the troops as held together were brought to a stand at
General Couch's position at
Seven Pines.
47
Early in the action,
General Keyes, whose troops were those upon whom the attack had thus far fallen, finding he was being hard pushed, had sent to
General Heintzelman, who commanded the whole left wing of the army, and whose two divisions were close at hand, to send him aid. But the message was both delayed in reaching that officer,
48 and when he sent forward re-enforcements, they were, through some misunderstanding, very tardy in reaching the front; so that it was past four o'clock when
Kearney, with his foremost brigade,
49 arrived at the position where
Couch's troops and the wreck of
Casey's division were struggling to hold their own.
50 Berry's brigade was immediately thrown into the woods on the left, where his rifles commanded the left of the camp and works occupied by
Casey in the morning, and now held by the enemy.
Meantime, though the divisions of
Longstreet and
Hill had thus for three hours been vigorously pushing forward on the
Williamsburg road, the column of
G. W. Smith, to which was intrusted the important flanking operation already indicated in
Johnston's original plan, had not yet moved.
The Confederate commander had placed himself with this column; but failing to hear the musketry of
Longstreet and
Hill,
51 he waited till four o'clock, when, learning how these generals had been engaged, he immediately threw forward
Smith's command.
Thus it happened that when
Casey had been driven back to
Couch's line at the
Seven Pines, and the latter with two regiments of his division had advanced to relieve the
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by large masses of the enemy bursting out on his right by the rear of theNine-mile road, and another heavy column moving towards Fair Oaks Station.
This was
Smith's column, which had at length got fairly to work.
Couch, who had been reenforced by two additional regiments, made fight, but was overpowered and thrown off eccentrically to the right,—the enemy penetrating between the force with which
Couch was executing this manoeuvre and the main body of his division.
52 And now, between five and six o'clock, it seemed that the whole left wing of the army across the
Chickahominy was doomed; for not only was
Couch bisected, but the brigades of
Berry and
Jameson, of
Kearney's division, which had gone up on the left, were thrown back by the enemy on
White Oak Swamp, only regaining the main body under cover of night; and the centre was struggling with indifferent success to hold its own, after being driven from two positions.
But just at this crisis, when the fate of the day was trembling in the balance, the action was determined by the sudden apparition of a column from the north bank of the
Chickahominy.
Upon first learning the state of affairs on the left wing,
McClellan sent orders to
General Sumner, who held the centre of the general line of the army, on the north side of the
Chickahominy, and about six miles from the scene of action, to hold his corps in readiness to move.
But as soon as the sounds of battle from the west side of the
Chickahominy reached
53 him,
Sumner, divining the situation, had, with that soldierly instinct that characterized him, put his corps under arms, and marched it out of camp; so that when, at two o'clock, he was ordered to cross his command without delay, and proceed to the support of
Heintzelman, no time was lost.
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For the passage of the
Chickahominy there were, at that time, only Bottom's Bridge, the railroad-bridge, and two bridges built by
Sumner himself intermediate between the two above mentioned.
But to reach the battle-field that day by Bottom's Bridge or the railroad-bridge was out of the question; his sole reliance, therefore, was on his own two bridges.
Now, however, a new and dire difficulty presented itself: the lower bridge had been carried away by the freshet; the upper one was half adrift.
When the head of
Sumner's column, composed of
Sedgwick's division, reached it, the rough logs forming the corduroy approaches over the swamp were mostly afloat, and were only kept from drifting off by the stumps of trees to which they were fastened.
The portion over the body of the stream was suspended from the trunks of trees by ropes, on the doubtful staunchness of which depended the possibility of making the passage.
‘The possibility of crossing,’ says
Colonel Alexander of the engineers, ‘was doubted by all present, including
General Sumner himself.
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, however, it was safe till the corps had crossed; it then soon became impassable.’
54
Sumner, debouching from the bridge with
Sedgwick's division (
Richardson's division did not arrive till about sunset), pushed impetuously forward through the deep mud, guided only by the firing.
To move the artillery was found impossible.
55 At about six o'clock the head of
Sedgwick's column
56 deployed into line in the rear of
Fair Oaks, in a position where
Couch, when separated from the main body, had taken his stand to oppose the enemy's advance.
They were no more than in time; for at that moment
Smith's troops,
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having been gotten well in hand under the personal direction of
General Johnston, moved forward, opening a heavy fusilade upon the line.
They made several determined charges, but were each time repulsed with great loss by the steady fire of the infantry and the excellent practice of the batteries.
57 After sustaining the enemy's fire for a considerable time,
General Sumner ordered five regiments
58 to make a charge with the bayonet into the woods occupied by the enemy.
This operation was handsomely executed, and resulted in driving back the
Confederates in confusion.
Thus, when all was lost,
Sumner's soldierly promptitude saved the day, as
Moreau, flying to the assistance of
Napoleon when hard pressed by the Austrians in
Italy, chained victory to the standards of the
French.
‘O
Moreau!’
exclaimed that illustrious war-
minister Carnot, on hearing of this; ‘oh, my dear
Fabius, how great you were in that circumstance!
how superior to the wretched rivalries of generals, which so often cause the best-laid enterprises to miscarry!’
59 The brave old
Sumner now sleeps in a soldier's grave; but that one act of heroic duty must embalm his memory in the hearts of his countrymen.
In this bloody encounter the
Confederates lost nearly seven thousand men, and the
Union army upwards of five thousand.
But a severer loss befell the
Confederates than is expressed even in this heavy aggregate; for the able chief of the Army of Northern Virginia was struck down with a severe hurt.
The command, for the time being, devolved on
General G. W. Smith; but the failure to make good the purpose of the attack, the heavy losses already suffered, and the disabling of
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General Johnston, determined
General Smith to retire his forces.
Preparations for withdrawal were actively pushed forward during the night; but through some accidental circumstances, a portion of
Sumner's line having become engaged on the morning of the 1st of June, there ensued a rencounter of some severity, which lasted for two or three hours. It ended, however, after some brisk sallies, in the withdrawal of the entire Confederate force to the lines around
Richmond.
The Union troops were immediately pushed forward, and occupied the positions held previous to the action.
60
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V. The Seven days retreat.
The attitude of the army during the month succeeding the action of
Fair Oaks was not imposing.
It was seemingly a body that had lost its momentum; and the troops, sweltering through all that hot month amid the unwholesome swamps of the
Chickahominy, sank in energy.
McClellan's position was a trying one: he realized the full necessity of action; but he also realized better than any of his contemporaries the enormous difficulty of the task laid upon him. Feeling deeply the need of new accessions to his strength, in order to permit him to carry out his plans, and seeing almost as large a force as he had to confront the enemy withal scattered in unmilitary positions throughout
Virginia, he was naturally urgent that they should be forwarded from where they were useless to where they might be so advantageously employed.
Yet the situation was not one that permitted inaction; for the position of the army astride a fickle river, and the experience already had of the danger to which that division of its strength exposed it, should have been a sufficient admonition of the necessity of a change.
The fundamental vice was the direction of McClellan's line of communications almost on the prolongation of his front of operations.
Pivoting on the York River Railroad, and drawing his supplies from
White House, it became absolutely necessary for him to hold a large part of his effective strength on the left bank of the
Chickahominy for the protection of that line,—a situation that at once prevented his using his whole force, and exposed him to attack in detail.
This false position might have been rectified in two ways: 1.
By a change of base to the
James, which would have given a line of manoeuvre against
Richmond, entirely free from the objections inherent in that by the
York,
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and whereon he would have had choice either of moving against
Richmond by the north bank of the
James, or, by a transfer to the south side, of operating against its communications, which was altogether the bolder and more decisive method; 2.
By the transfer of the whole force to the right bank of the
Chickahominy, abandoning the line of the
York, and then making a prompt advance against
Richmond, with the advantage that, if unsuccessful in the battle against the adverse force, the line of the
James might be taken up. The latter was the preferable choice, as it avoided the ill moral effect that might be expected to attend a change of base without a battle.
But either would have been better than inaction, which, in the actual situation, was more hazardous than the boldest devisement, and was an eminent example of that kind of false prudence that is often the greatest rashness.
General McClellan knew that the adoption of the one course or the other was necessary; but unfortunately the case was one presenting an alternative, and it was the nature of that commander's mind to so balance between conflicting views, to so let ‘I dare not wait upon I would,’ that he was apt to hesitate even in conjunctures wherein the worst course was preferable to doing nothing.
To whatever subtile cause, deep seated in the structure of his mind—to whatever excess of lymph in his blood this may have been due—it certainly marred his eminent capacity as a soldier.
There is something painful and at the same time almost ludicrous in the evidence, found in his official dispatches, of this ever-about-to-do non-performance.
On the day succeeding the action of
Fair Oaks, the 2d of June, he wrote: ‘I only wait for the river to fall to cross with the rest of the force and make a general attack.
Should I find them holding firm in a very strong position, I may wait for what troops I can bring up from
Fort Monroe.’
On the 7th of June: ‘I shall be in perfect readiness to move forward and take
Richmond the moment that
McCall reaches here, and the ground will admit the passage of artillery.’
McCall's division (of
McDowell's force) arrived on the 12th and 13th, which increased his
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effective to one hundred and fifteen thousand men.
61 On the 16th he wrote: ‘I hope two days more will make the ground practicable.
I shall advance as soon as the bridges are completed and the ground fit for artillery to move.’
On the 18th . ‘A general engagement may take place any hour.’
On the 25th: ‘The action will probably occur to-morrow, or within a short time,’—and so on and on in the like tenor, until the time when the enemy cut short the endless debate by seizing the initiative.
Now it cannot be said that these stops and cautels were not real difficulties in the way of an advance; that the successive conditions precedent of action were not well taken, and based on sound military reasoning.
What
General McClellan should have seen, however, is that his proper course of action was determined not by these circumstances at all, but was dictated by the necessity of extricating himself from a situation intrinsically false.
This became only too soon manifest.
When the hurt that
General Johnston had received at
Fair Oaks was seen to be one that must long keep him out of the field,
General Robert E. Lee was nominated to succeed him in the command of the Army of Northern Virginia.
Of this soldier, destined to so large a fame, men had at this time to judge by promise rather than by proof.
General Lee's actual experience in the field had been confined to a trivial campaign in the mountains of
Western Virginia, in which he had been in a remarkable manner foiled by
General Rosecrans; and this.
with his reflective habits and cautious temper, promised a commander of the Fabian mould.
Yet there is nothing in which one may more readily judge wrongly than in the attempt to prognosticate from the plane of every-day experience
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the behavior of a man placed in command of an army.
Lee, whose characteristic trait was caution, marked the commencement of his career by a stroke brilliant in its boldness.
It has been seen that in
General Johnston's theory of action for the defence of
Richmond, he judged that the course best suited to the circumstances was to draw in around the
Confederate capital, concentrate there all the available resources of the
South, and then fall with crushing weight upon the
Union army, divided by the
Chickahominy.
Accidental circumstances had made the blow which he delivered ineffectual.
General Lee determined to continue the same line of action; and this he was enabled to initiate under more favorable auspices.
Johnston's views touching the necessity of a powerful gathering of force at
Richmond fell comparatively unheeded; but his successor had better fortune, and having decided to assume the offensive, he was able to draw in the
Confederate detachments scattered along the coast and throughout
Virginia, and by this means raise his effective to near one hundred thousand men.
Lee's policy of concentration included the withdrawal of
Jackson's force from the
Valley of the Shenandoah,—and a withdrawal so secret, that its first announcement should be the blow struck.
Before commencing operations, however, he sent
Stuart, with a body of fifteen hundred
Virginia troopers, to make the circuit of the
Union army, by a swoop around its rear.
This having been successfully accomplished about the middle of June,
Lee was ready, with the knowledge thus gained, to strike.
To mask
Jackson's intended withdrawal from the
Valley,
General Lee detached a division from the force around
Richmond (the division of
Whiting) and sent it to join
Jackson.
This was done ostentatiously, and in such a way that it should become known to
General McClellan;
Lee judging that the intelligence of this movement would give his antagonist the impression of a revival of operations in the
Shenandoah region.
If there was, as seemed likely, a renewed intention of sending forward
McDowell's army to join
McClellan, a fresh appeal to the fears of the administration for the safety of
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Washington was the shrewdly chosen means of again diverting that force.
When this had had its intended effect,
Jackson, with his whole command, now raised to about twenty-five thousand men, was ordered to march rapidly and secretly in the direction of
Richmond.
He set out from the vicinity of
Port Republic (where he had remained since the termination of the
Valley campaign) on the 17th of June, and moving by way of
Gordonsville and the line of the Virginia Central Railroad, pushed his advance so vigorously that on the 25th he struck
Ashland, on the Fredericksburg Railroad, twelve miles from
Richmond.
With such skill did
Jackson manage his march, that not
General McClellan, nor yet
Banks, nor
Fremont, nor
McDowell, knew aught of it;
62 and when, on the 25th,
Jackson had reached
Ashland, and was within striking distance of the right wing of the Army of the Potomac,
McClellan, absorbed in his proposed operations on the
Richmond side of the
Chickahominy, was that very day advancing his pickets on the
Williamsburg road, preparatory to a general forward movement in that direction.
Jackson had now reached a point where the other Confederate columns could begin the parts assigned to them.
Lee's plan contemplated that so soon as
Jackson, by his manoeuvres on the north bank of the
Chickahominy, should have uncovered the passage of the stream at
Meadow and Mechanicsville bridges, the divisions on the south bank should cross and join
Jackson's column, when the whole army should sweep down the north side of the
Chickahominy, towards the
York River, laying hold of
McClellan's communications with
White House.
63
The only interference with this plan was caused by a day's delay in
Jackson's movement whereby it occurred that
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when, on the afternoon of the 26th,
General A. P. Hill, after crossing the
Chickahominy at
Meadow Bridge and driving away the small force
64 in observation at
Mechanicsville (thus enabling the divisions of
Longstreet and
D. H. Hill to cross at Mechanicsville Bridge and join him), attempted to proceed in the movement down the north bank of the
Chickahominy, the columns were brought to a halt by a part of the corps of
Fitz-John Porter, which held an intrenched position on the left bank of
Beaver Dam Creek, a small tributary of the
Chickahominy.
The position was a strong one, the left bank of the creek being high and almost perpendicular, and the approach being over open fields, swept by artillery fire and obstructed by abatis.
This position was held by the brigades of
Reynolds and
Seymour; but when the
Confederates showed a determination to force the passage,
General Porter called up the remainder of his corps, consisting of
Meade's brigade and the division of
Morell.
The
Mechanicsville road, on which the
Confederate divisions, under
General Longstreet, moved to make the passage of
Beaver Dam Creek, turns when near the creek and runs nearly parallel to it, thus causing an advancing force to present a flank.
The Federal troops were concealed by earthworks commanding this road; and, reserving their fire until the head of the
Confederate column was nearly across the ravine, they opened a terribly destructive volley in the face and on the flank of the advancing force: the survivors fled, and no additional attempt was made to force the passage that night; but brisk firing was continued till nine o'clock.
65 The enemy lost between three and four thousand men, while the
Union loss was quite inconsiderable.
66
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The attempt was renewed at dawn of the following morning, with equally ill success; but while the
Confederates were thus engaged,
Jackson passed
Beaver Dam Creek above and turned the position.
By the night of the 26th of June, the intelligence which
McClellan received from his outposts left no doubt of
Jackson's approach, and, divining now the true nature of
Lee's move, he resolved to withdraw his right wing under
General Porter from its position at
Beaver Dam, where it was too far from the main body and too much ‘in the air.’
The answer to the question, what should be done with the right wing, would determine the entire situation.
The disclosure of
Lee's bold initiative made action indispensable.
Three courses were open to
McClellan: 1.
To effect a concentration of the whole army on the north side of the
Chickahominy, and there deliver general battle; 2.
To effect a concentration on the south bank, and march directly for
Richmond; 3.
To transfer the right wing to the south bank, and make a change of base to the
James River.
The first plan was not conformable to military principles; for
Lee already laid hold of
McClellan's communications with
White House, and the
Confederate force on the
Richmond side of the
Chickahominy imperilled his line of retreat to the
James River.
To have given general battle on the north bank would, therefore, have been to risk his army without an assured line of retreat.
67
The second project, that of making a counter-move on
Richmond, would have been correct and at the same time very bold and brilliant.
Such an operation has several illustrious precedents, of which one of the best known and most striking is
Turenne's counter to Montecuculi
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in 1675.
Montecuculi, commanding the
Imperial army, after a series of beautiful manoeuvres, began to cross the
Rhine at
Strasburg for the purpose of falling upon the
French force; but
Turenne, nothing disconcerted, threw a bridge over the river three miles below
Strasburg, and, transferring his whole army to German ground, compelled Montecuculi to make a hasty return.
There is little doubt that a direct march of the whole army on
Richmond on the morning of the 27th, would have had the effect to recall
Lee to the defence of his own communications and the
Confederate capital, which was defended by only twenty-five thousand men.
68 McClellan held the direct crossings of the
Chickahominy on the south bank, while the
Confederate bridges were destroyed, and
Lee would have been compelled to make a detour of at least a day to rejoin the force in front of
Richmond.
Why, therefore, did not
General McClellan execute this operation?
He answers this question by a reference to the limited quantity of supplies on hand; but this cannot be accepted as valid, for the army had at this time rations for many days, and large stores had eventually to be burnt previous to the retreat.
The real reason is, that the operation overleaped by its boldness the methodical genius of the
Union commander.
It resulted, therefore, that he adopted the alternative of a change of base to the
James River.
In deciding upon this plan, which was judicious if not brilliant, and which was executed in a manner to reflect high credit on the army and its commander, the only sacrifice made by
General McClellan —and indeed it was no inconsiderable one—was that he did on compulsion what he might have done before from
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choice—what, indeed, he appears to have intended to do, but what, halting as that general so often did in the perilous half-way-house between the offensive and the defensive, never
was done; thus turning awry the current of an enterprise of great pith and moment and losing the name of action.
In determining to withdraw
Porter's corps to the south bank of the
Chickahominy and effect with his united army a change of base to the
James River,
General McClellan took a preliminary step which, though seemingly dictated by the necessities of his difficult situation, enabled the
Confederates to inflict a heavy blow on that corps, and beclouded the commencement of the retrograde movement by a severe disaster to the
Union arms.
It appeared that an immediate withdrawal of the right wing over the
Chickahominy after
Jackson had turned its position on
Beaver Dam Creek would expose the rear of the army, placed as between two fires,
69 and enable
Jackson by moving direct on the lower bridges of the
Chickahominy, and even on
Malvern Hill, to interrupt the movement to the
James River.
He resolved, therefore, to engage
Jackson with
Porter's corps, re-enforced by whatever troops might be available from the south bank of the
Chickahominy, in order to cover the withdrawal of the trains and heavy guns and to gain time for arrangements looking to the change of base to the
James.
It was indeed an unhappy plight in which the commander found himself placed,—condemned either to hazard the safety of his whole army, or doom a portion of it to almost assured destruction.
For it was not, as lie conceived, with Jackson-alone that
Porter would have to deal, but with more than two-thirds of the entire Confederate army, with
Jackson, and
Longstreet, and the two Hills: it was in fact twenty-seven thousand against sixty thousand,—an overweight of opposition that lent to the task assigned to
Porter almost the character of a forlorn hope.
In execution of this design, the greater part of the heavy guns and wagons were removed from
Beaver Dam to the
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south bank of the
Chickahominy during the night of the 26th; and shortly before daylight the delicate operation of withdrawing the troops to the position where it was determined to make the new stand, was commenced and skilfully and successfully executed; for, though the
Confederates followed closely, skirmishing, yet
Porter was able to take up his new position before they appeared in force in his front.
The rear was handsomely covered by
Seymour's brigade and the horse batteries of
Robertson and
Tidball.
The position on the north bank of the
Chickahominy taken up for resistance, was well chosen, on a range of heights between Cold Harbor and the
Chickahominy.
The line of battle formed the arc of a circle, covering the approaches to the bridges which connected the right wing with the troops on the south side of the river.
The left (
Morell's division) rested on a wooded bluff, which rose abruptly from a deep ravine leading down to the
Chickahominy; the right (
Sykes' division of Regulars) posted in woods and clearings, extended to the rear
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of Cold Harbor.
The ground, generally open in front, was bounded on the side of the
Confederate approach by a wood with dense and tangled undergrowth and traversed by a sluggish stream.
McCall's division was formed in a second line.
70 This field was destined to a historic character; for two years afterwards,
General Grant, in his campaign from the
Rapidan to
Richmond, delivered a bloody battle on the same ground.
Yet between the circumstances of the two battles, there was one point of difference; and it is a point of difference that epitomizes the whole progress of the war from 1862 to 1864.
By the time
Lee found himself on the defensive along the
Chickahominy, a long experience had taught the enormous advantage of those rude breastworks of logs and earth, which the troops of both armies had acquired such a marvellous facility in constructing.
But in the earlier action the art of preparing defensive positions was yet in its infancy, and the ground on which
Porter disposed his force—a position that in two hours vigorous use of the axe and spade might have been rendered impregnable—remained guarded by little more than the naked valor of the troops.
The dispositions had hardly been made, when at two o'clock
General A. P. Hill, who had the advance of
Lee's column, swung round by
New Cold Harbor, and advanced his division to the attack.
Jackson, who was to form the left of the
Confederate line, had not yet come up, and
Longstreet was held back until
Jackson's arrival on the left should compel an extension of the
Federal line.
Hill, accordingly, attacked alone; but he gained no advantage, for after piercing the line at one point, he was repulsed and forced to yield ground, his troops being driven back in great disorder and with heavy loss.
71 To relieve
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Hill, the
Confederate commander now ordered
Longstreet, who held the right of the
Confederate line, to make a feint on the left of the
Union position; but
Longstreet soon discovered that, owing to the strength of this point, the feint to be effective would have to be converted into a real attack.
72 While dispositions for this were in progress,
Jackson's corps together with
D. H. Hill's division arrived; and when dispositions had been completed, a general advance from right to left was made at six o'clock. Previous to this,
General Porter, finding himself hard pressed, had called for reenforcements, and in response,
General McClellan, at half-past 3, sent him
Slocum's division of
Franklin's corps, which increased his force to thirty-five thousand men. It was evident, however, that, beyond this,
Porter could expect little or no aid, for the troops on the south bank of the
Chickahominy had at the same time their attention fully engaged by the demonstrations of
Magruder, who by energetic handling of his troops, making a great show and movement and clatter, held the corps commanders on the south side, to whom
McClellan appealed for aid in behalf of
Porter, so fully occupied that they declared they could with safety spare none.
73 And thus it happened that, while on the north side of the
Chickahominy thirty thousand Union troops were being assailed by seventy thousand Confederates, twenty-five thousand Confederates on the south side held in check sixty thousand Union troops!
When, therefore,
Lee, with all his divisions in hand, made a general advance, it was with an overwhelming weight and
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pressure.
The right
74 held its ground with much stubbornness, repulsing every attack.
The left, too, fought stoutly, but was at length broken by a determined charge, led by
Hood's Texan troops.
This, however, would not have sufficed to entail any great disaster; and
Porter was withdrawing his infantry under cover of the fire of fifty guns, when the artillery on the height on the left was thrown into great confusion by a mass of cavalry rushing back from the front; and the batteries, being without support, retired in haste, overrunning the infantry, and throwing the whole mass into most admired disorder.
The explanation of this is as follows.
The cavalry had been directed to keep below the hill, and under no circumstances to appear on the crest, but to operate in the bottom land against the enemy's flank: nevertheless its commander,
General Philip St. George Cook, doubtless misinformed, ordered it to charge between the infantry and artillery upon the enemy on the left, who had not yet emerged from the woods.
75 This charge, executed in the face of a withering fire, resulted, of course, in the cavalry's being thrown back in confusion; and the bewildered horses, regardless of the efforts of the riders, wheeled about, and dashing through the batteries, convinced the gunners that they were charged by the enemy.
Jackson, following up, carried the height on the left by an impetuous rush of
Longstreet's and
Whiting's divisions, capturing fourteen pieces of artillery; and the
Union division under
Morell, which held that wing, was driven back to the woods on the banks of the
Chickahominy.
76 The right continued
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to maintain its ground against the attacks of
Ewell's and
D. H. Hill's divisions; but the key-point being carried, retreat was compulsory.
This was attended with much confusion, and the stragglers were thronging to the bridge, when French's and
Meagher's brigades, sent across from the south side of the river by
General Sumner, appeared, and under cover of their firm line the shattered troops were finally rallied and reformed.
Yet, if alone on that small re-enforcement had depended the safety of that terribly shattered wing, hope would have been slender indeed; but the growing darkness, the disorder which lines of battle necessarily suffer in charging over thickly wooded ground, and the severe punishment the
Confederates had received, prevented
Lee from pushing his victory to the dreadful extremity to which that routed force, with a river at its back, was exposed.
Thus, when friendly night—so often awaited with such passionate longing by wrecked armies and distraught commanders—shut down on the dark and bloody thickets of the
Chickahominy, the worn and weary troops were silently drawn over to the south bank, and at six of the morning the rear-guard of Regulars crossed and destroyed the bridge behind them.
The losses numbered many thousands on each side, but no precise aggregate is known.
77
With the transfer of the right wing to the south side of the
Chickahominy, the Army of the Potomac turned its back on the
Confederate capital and all the high hopes the advance had inspired.
It was no longer a question of taking Rich
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mond, but of making good the retreat to the
James, with a victorious enemy in the rear.
McClellan had still, however, a certain advantage of his opponent: he had a determinate course of action resolved on during the night of the 27th, and already in process of execution; while
Lee remained still in doubt as to his adversary's design.
He saw that
McClellan might still throw his united force to the north side of the
Chickahominy and give battle to preserve his communications by the
White House; and he saw that, holding the lower bridges of the
Chickahominy, he might retreat down the
Peninsula over the same route by which
Johnston retreated up the
Peninsula.
In either case, it was necessary to hold his entire force in hand on the north side of the river.
Yet Mc-Clellan had adopted neither of these courses, but one different from either, and which his adversary had not divined.
And thus it happened that when, on the day after the battle of the
Chickahominy—Sunday, the 28th of June—Lee threw forward
Ewell's division and
Stuart's cavalry corps to seize the York River Railroad, he discovered he had been anticipated; for the line of supplies by the York River Railroad had been already abandoned two days before, the water-transportation had been ordered round to the
James River, the vast supplies had been run across to the south side of the
Chickahominy, and the enemy on his arrival found nothing save the burning piles in which the remnant of stores it had been impossible to carry off were being consumed.
In fact, the army was rapidly in motion for the
James River; and so skilfully was the retreat masked by the troops holding the line of works on the
Richmond side of the
Chickahominy, that
Magruder and
Huger, who had been charged with the duty of watching closely the movements of the
Union force, were quite unaware of what was going on. ‘Late in the afternoon (of the 28th) the enemy's works,’ says
General Lee, ‘were reported to be fully manned.
The strength of these fortifications prevented
Generals Huger and
Magruder from discovering what was passing in their front.’
It was night, in fact, before the movement was disclosed; and next morning (29th), before
Longstreet
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and
Hill and
Jackson could be sent across to the south side of the
Chickahominy, and, with
Huger and
Magruder, put in pursuit,
McClellan had gained twenty-four hours-hours of infinite price in the execution of his delicate and difficult enterprise.
The line of retreat to the
James passes across
White Oak Swamp, and the difficulty of the passage for the retreating army with its enormous trains was, at least, partially compensated by the barrier it opposed to reconnoissances and flank attacks by the pursuing foe.
Keyes' corps, which had been holding a position on the margin of
White Oak Swamp, naturally took the advance, and, traversing this region, had by noon of the 28th seized strong positions on the opposite side to cover the passage of the troops and impediments.
Then followed the long train of five thousand wagons, with a herd of twenty-five hundred beef-cattle, all of which had to traverse the morass by the one narrow defile.
It was successfully accomplished, however, and, during the same night,
Porter's corps headed towards the
James.
Meanwhile, to allow the trains to get well on their way,
Sumner's corps and Heintzelnan's corps and
Smith's division of
Franklin's corps were ordered to remain on the
Richmond, side of the
White Oak Swamp during the whole of the 29th and until dark, in a position covering the roads from
Richmond, and covering also Savage Station on the railroad.
Upon learning definitely the withdrawal of the army,
Lee, on the morning of the 29th, put his columns in motion in pursuit.
Magruder and
Huger were ordered to follow up on the
Williamsburg and Charles City roads, while
Longstreet and
A. P. Hill were to cross the
Chickahominy at
New Bridge, and move by flank routes near the
James, so as to intercept the retreat; and
Jackson, making the passage at Grape-vine Bridge, was to sweep down the south bank of the
Chickahominy.
Now, when
Sumner, on the morning of the 29th, learnt that the enemy was recrossing the
Chickahominy and advancing in the direction of Savage Station, he moved his corps from
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the position it had held at
Allen's farm to that place, uniting there with
Smith's division of
Franklin's corps.
Heintzelman, who was positioned on the left of
Sumner, had been ordered to hold the
Williamsburg road; but, when
Sumner shifted his force on to Savage Station,
Heintzelman fell back entirely and crossed
White Oak Swamp.
Thus, when
Magruder pushed forward on the
Williamsburg road, he found, in consequence of
Heintzelman's withdrawal, no force to oppose; and
Sumner, who was not aware of
Heintzelman's retirement, was surprised to find the enemy debouching on his front at Savage Station.
Such were the circumstances that, on the afternoon of the 29th, brought on the action known as the
battle of Savage Station,—an action that forms the second of the series of blows dealt by
Lee on the retreating army in its arduous passage to the
James.
Magruder attacked in front with characteristic impetuosity, about four in the afternoon, momentarily expecting that
Jackson, whose route led to the flank and rear of Savage Station, would arrive to decide the action.
But
Jackson was delayed nearly all day by the rebuilding of the bridge over the
Chickahominy, and did not get up, and
Sumner held his own with the stubbornness that marked that old brave; so that
Magruder, assailing his position in successive charges till dark, met only bloody repulses.
Thus, stout
Sumner stood at bay, while, thanks to the barrier he opposed, the mighty caravan of artillery and wagons and ambulances moved swiftly, silently through the melancholy woods and wilds, all day and all night, without challenge or encounter, on its winding way to the
James.
During the night, the rearguard also withdrew across
White Oak Swamp.
78
By the morning of the 30th, the army, with all its belongings, had crossed
White Oak Swamp, and debouched into the region looking out towards the
James; the artillery-parks
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had gained
Malvern Hill, and the van of the army had already reached the river, the sight of which was greeted with something of the joy with which the
Ten Thousand, returning from the expedition immortalized by
Xenophon, hailed the
Sea.
The Confederate pursuit was made in two columns.
Jackson, with five divisions, pressed on the heels of the retreating army by way of
White Oak Swamp; while
Longstreet, with a like force, making a detour by the roads skirting the
James River, hurried forward with the view to cut off the column from its march.
But, so long as the two Confederate columns were thus placed, it is obvious that they were hopelessly separated, and the retreating army had less to fear from their partial blows.
Just as soon, however, as
Jackson should emerge from
White Oak Swamp, he would come in immediate communication with the force under
Longstreet, and the whole of
Lee's army would then be united.
To prevent this junction, so as to make time for the ongoing of the menaced and jealously guarded trains, became now the prime object.
And this necessity it was that gave rise to the next serious encounter, known as the
battle of Glendale or Newmarket cross-roads.
By noon of the 30th,
Jackson reached the
White Oak Swamp; but he found the bridge destroyed, and on attempting to pass by the ordinary place of crossing, the head of his column was met by a severe artillery fire from batteries on the other side.
He then essayed to force the passage; but each attempt was met with such determined opposition
79 that, obstructed and estopped, he was compelled to give over.
Meantime, the column of
Longstreet, whose line of march flanked the swamp and gave free motion, were pushing rapidly forward on the
Long Bridge or New Market road, which runs at right angles to the
Quaker road, on which the army and its trains were hurrying towards the
James.
At the very
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time
Jackson was arrested at
White Oak Swamp,
Longstreet had arrived within a mile of the point of intersection of these two roads.
Should he be able to seize it, the army would be cut in twain.
But
Longstreet found this important point already covered, and if gained it would be at the price of a battle.
The force at the point of contact was
McCall's division of Pennsylvania Reserves, formed at right angles across the
New Market road, in front of, and parallel to, the
Quaker road.
80 Sumner was at some distance to the left, and somewhat retired;
Hooker was on
Sumner's left, and somewhat advanced;
Kearney was to the right of
McCall.
The brunt of the attack, however, fell upon
McCall's division.
In the
Confederate line the division of
Longstreet held the right, and that of
A. P. Hill the left.
Longstreet opened the attack at about three o'clock, by a threatening movement on
McCall's left, which was met by a change of front on that flank, in which position a severe fight was maintained for two hours, the
Confederates making ineffectual attempts to force the position.
At the same time the batteries on the centre and right became the aim of determined assaults, which were repeatedly repulsed; till finally
Randall's battery was captured by a fierce charge made by two regiments
81 advancing in wedge shape, without order, but with trailed arms.
Rushing up to the muzzles of the guns, they pistoled or bayoneted the cannoniers.
The greater part of the supporting regiment fled; but those who remained made a savage hand to hand and bayonet fight over the guns,
82 which were finally yielded
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to the enemy.
Meantime, a renewed attempt on the left shattered and doubled up that flank, held by
Seymour's brigade; and the enemy following up, drove the routed troops between
Sumner and
Hooker, till, penetrating too far, he was caught himself on the flank by
Hooker's fire, and, driven across
Sumner's front, was thrown against
McCall's centre, which, with the right, had remained comparatively firm.
An advance by
Kearney and
Hooker now regained a portion of the lost ground, and repulsed all further attacks.
Darkness coming on, ended the action.
While these events were passing at
Glendale,
Jackson, detained by the vigorous opposition he met on the other side of
White Oak Swamp, could only hear the tell-tale guns: he was impotent to help.
83 Thus it was that
McClellan, holding paralyzed, as it were, the powerful corps of
Jackson with his right hand, with his left was free to deal blows at the force menacing his flanks.
The action at
Glendale insured the integrity of the army, imperilled till that hour.
During the night the troops that had checked
Jackson and repulsed
Longstreet silently withdrew, and when
Lee was next able to strike it was at a united
army, strongly posted on the heights of
Malvern, with assured communication with its new base on the
James.
On the following morning (July 1st)
Lee had his whole force concentrated at the battle-field of
New Market crossroads: but he could not fail even then to realize that, though the pursuit might be continued, it was under circumstances that made the hope of any decided success now very distant.
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Still it remained to try the issue of a general battle between the two united armies.
The Confederate columns were accordingly put in motion on the morning of the 1st of July,
Jackson's corps leading.
A march of a few miles brought the pursuers again in contact with the army, which was found occupying a commanding ridge, extending obliquely across
the line of march, in advance of
Malvern Hill.
In front of this strong position the ground was open, varying in width from a quarter to half a mile, sloping gradually from the crest, and giving a free field of fire.
The approaches were over a broken and thickly wooded country, traversed nearly throughout its whole extent by a swamp passable at but few places, and difficult at those.
84 On this admirable position
General McClellan had concentrated his army, prepared to receive final battle.
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The left and centre were posted on
Malvern Hill, an elevated plateau about a mile and a half by three-fourths of a mile in area; the right was ‘refused,’ curving backward through a wooded region towards a point below Haxall's Landing, on
James River.
Judging from the obvious lines of attack that the main effort would be made against his left,
General Mc-Clellan posted on
Malvern Hill heavy masses of infantry and artillery.
Porter's corps held the left, and the artillery of his two divisions, with the artillery reserve, gave a concentrated fire of sixty guns.
Couch's division
was placed on the right of
Porter; next came
Kearney and
Hooker; next,
Sedgwick and
Richardson; next,
Smith and
Slocum; then the remainder of
Keyes' corps, extending by a backward curve nearly to the river.
While the left was massed, the right was more deployed, its front covered by slashings.
The gunboats in the
James River protected the left flank.
85
Lee formed his line with
Jackson's divisions
86 on the left, and those under
Magruder and
Huger on the right.
A. P. Hill and
Longstreet were held in reserve to the left, and took no part in the engagement.
87 Owing to ignorance of the
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country on the part of the
Confederates, and the difficulty of the ground, the line was not formed until late in the afternoon, though a brisk artillery duel was kept up, and about three o'clock a single brigade (
Anderson's, of
D. H. Hill's division) attacked
Couch's front and was repulsed.
88 As
McClellan expected,
Lee's purpose was to force the plateau of
Malvern on the left.
With this view he had massed
Jackson's force and the troops under
Huger and
Magruder well on his right, being resolved to carry the heights by storm.
Previously to the attack, the
Confederate commander issued an order stating that positions were selected from which his artillery could silence that of his opponent, and as soon as that was done,
Armistead's brigade of
Huger's division would advance with a shout and carry the battery immediately in his front.
This shout was to be the signal for a general advance, and all the troops were then to rush forward with fixed bayonets.
Now towards six o'clock,
General D. H. Hill, commanding one of
Jackson's divisions, heard what he took to be the signal.
‘While conversing with my brigade commanders,’ says he, ‘shouting was heard on our right, followed by the roar of musketry.
We all agreed this was the signal determined upon, and I ordered my division to advance.
This, as near as I could judge, was about an hour and a half before sundown.’
89 But whether the others did not hear what
Hill heard, or whether what they heard was not taken for the signal, no advance by them was made; so that when
Hill went forward, it was
alone. Neither
Whiting on the left, nor
Magruder or
Huger on the right, moved forward an inch.
Hill's point of attack was directly against the crest of
Malvern, bristling with cannon.
‘Tier after tier of batteries,’ says he, ‘were grimly visible on the plateau, rising in the form of an amphitheatre.’
In such cases, where cannoneers stand to
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their guns, and faithful hands grasp the rifle, it is easy to predict the result.
Every assault met a bloody repulse.
The promised artillery aid was not rendered: the few batteries used were beaten in detail.
90 Afterwards,
Magruder and
Huger attacked, but it was without order or
ensemble, a brigade, or even a regiment, being thrown forward at a time.
Each, in succession, met a like reception from the steady lines of infantry and the concentrated fire from the artillery reserve, under its able commander,
Colonel Hunt.
The attacks fell mainly on
Porter on the left, and on
Couch; and the success of the day was in a large degree due to the skill and coolness of the latter, who, as holding the hottest part of the
Union line, was gradually re-enforced by the brigades of
Caldwell,
Sickles,
Meagher, and several of
Porter's, till he came to command the whole left centre, displaying in his conduct of the battle a high order of generalship.
Night closed on the combatants still fighting, the opposing forces being distinguishable only by the lurid lines of fire.
Thus till near nine o'clock, when the fire, slackening gradually, died out altogether, and only an occasional shot from the batteries broke the silence that pervaded the bloody field.
The repulse of the
Confederates was most complete, and entailed a loss of five thousand men, while the
Union loss was not above one-third that number.
Lee never before nor since that action delivered a battle so ill-judged in conception, or so faulty in its details of execution.
It was as bad as the worst blunders ever committed on the
Union side; but he profited by the experiment, and never repeated it.
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Victorious though the Army of the Potomac was on the field of
Malvern, the position was not one that could be held; for the army was under the imperious necessity of reaching its supplies.
During the night, accordingly, the troops were withdrawn to
Harrison's Bar, on the
James.
Colonel Averill, with a regiment of cavalry, a brigade of regular infantry, and a battery, covered the rear.
Lee threw forward
Stuart (who with his troopers had been absent during the whole pursuit on an expedition to
White House and the lower fords of the
Chickahominy, and only rejoined the army after the battle of
Malvern), and followed up with columns of infantry; but finding that
McClellan had taken up a strong position, he retired on the 8th of July, and took his army back to
Richmond.
Thus ended the memorable
peninsular campaign, which, in the brief interval of three months, had seen the Army of the Potomac force its way through siege and battle to within sight of the spires of
Richmond, only to reel back in the deadly clinch of a seven days combat to the
James River.
Viewed with reference to its aim—the capture of
Richmond—the campaign was a failure, as were so many subsequent campaigns having the same object in view.
The judgments of men, accordingly, have turned rather on the result than on the causes that produced it. The theory of the campaign, primarily offensive, from necessity changed into the defensive.
The theory of the
Confederates, primarily defensive, was skilfully converted into the offensive.
Thus the prestige remained with the
Confederates; and the faults of
Lee's offensive receive as little attention as the merits of
McClellan's defensive.
For, in an unsuccessful campaign, the slightest fault is accounted mortal.
Men regard only the ill that has happened, and not the worse that might have happened had it not been prevented.
In a fortunate issue, however, the eyes of the public, dazzled by the glitter of a brilliant achievement, are blind both to the faults of what has been gained and to the failure to gain much besides.
Lee
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himself, conscious of the skilful manner in which his antagonist parried his blows, attempts to explain the failure to achieve a more decisive result by the enumeration of obstructions which, as they beset
McClellan himself, can hardly be considered a valid explanation.
‘Under ordinary circumstances,’ says he, ‘the
Federal army should have been destroyed.
Its escape was due to the causes already stated.
Prominent among these is the want of correct and timely information.
This fact, attributable chiefly to the character of the country, enabled
General McClellan skilfully to conceal his retreat, and to add much to the obstructions with which nature had beset our pursuing columns.’
91
The losses of the campaign were, on the
Union side, 15,249; on the
Confederate side, above 19,000.
The blows dealt by each were not less severe than the blows received by each.
In a military sense,
Richmond's danger was really greater when, after its retreat, the Army of the Potomac based itself on the
James, than when it stood astride the
Chickahominy.
Yet, so potent is the sway that general results have over the imaginations of men, that, while the raising of the siege was the occasion to
Jefferson Davis for a proclamation of thanksgiving, and thrilled the whole
South with joy, the
North was stunned with grief and despair at the thought that the army that was the brave pillar of its hopes was thus struck down.
It is true these moral results count for much in war, and the historian must not fail duly to note and weigh them.
Yet if, anticipating the spirit of a historical judgment, we essay to estimate the events of the war by their intrinsic value, we shall not fail to see something meritorious, as well as something blameworthy, in this unsuccessful campaign.
For the commander to have extricated his army from a difficult situation, in which circumstances quite as much as his own fault had placed it, and, in presence of a powerful, skilful, and determined adversary, transfer it safely to a position
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whence it could act with effect, was of itself a notable achievement.
For the army to have fought through such a campaign was creditable, and its close found inexperienced troops transformed into veteran soldiers.
And, if alone from the appeal which great sufferings and great sacrifices always make to a generous people, the story of that eventful march and arduous retreat, when, weary and hungry and foot-sore, the army marched by night and fought by day through a whole week of toil, and never gave up, but made a good fight and reached the goal, cannot fail to live in grateful remembrance.
