The Camp-Fires of General Lee from the Peninsula to Appomattox Court-House, etc

Introduction

. " The Camp-Fires of General Lee " aims to be a truthful narrative of the great part played by the Army of Northern Virginia under its illustrious commander in the most terrific campaigns of modern times. When the wounding of General Johnston, early in the war, compelled him to turn over his command to General Lee, the latter entered upon such a display of generalship that he speedily proved himself one of the fpremost military leaders of the century. His campaigns represented the highest development of the science of war, and will command admi ration for ages to come. The history of those brilliant manœuvres, grand combinations and tremendous battles cannot be studied too closely by American youth. The incense wafted upward from Manassas, the Wil derness, Chancellorsville and Appomattox was the same, in truth, as that which was borne aloft from the fields of Bunker Hill, Monmouth, Trenton, Valley Forge and Yorktown, where Jerseymen and Virginians, South Carolinians and Green Moun-

INTRODUCTION.

. tain Boys, stood shoulder to shoulder in the struggle for liberty. The passions of the later days have departed, and those who arrayed themselves under the Stars and Bars are now among the most ardent defenders of the Union. None is quicker to give recognition of the valor of the Boy in Blue than he who wore the Gray. Brave men mutually respect each other, and no stronger ties of friendship can be formed than those that now bind together the different sections of the Union. We can, there fore, enjoy the fighting of the battles over again, each former opponent conceding the full meed of praise to the other and uttering nothing in malice. We have sought to give, so far as possible, a real istic narrative of those days by jtresenting pictures of the bivouac, the camp-fire and some of the numerous personal reminiscences of those engaged in the conflict.

In the preparation of these pages much assistance has been received from other histories and parties. Becognition is specially due Bev. J. Wil liam Jones, D. D., of Bichmond, secretary of the Southern Historical Society, who placed many documents and papers at the author's disposal. CONTENTS. i. THE CAMP-FIRES IN THE PENINSULA.

Chapter I. On The Chickahominy

" General, I am very glad to see you ; I had hoped to meet you sooner." " Yes ; I was anxious to meet you, but it was impossible." The two officers saluted each other, and the thousands of soldiers who witnessed the sight broke into tumultuous cheers. The first speaker was Robert E. Lee, commander in-chief of the Confederate armies. He was of striking appearance, sitting erect and graceful in his saddle, his grave, dignified countenance lighted up at the sight of his loved lieutenant. His full beard was rapidly turning gray, and the tremendous weight of the responsibility he carried on his shoulders was already seaming the handsome countenance with dee]) lines of care and anxiety. n General Lee wore the slouch hat which became so familiar in the years that followed, and the uniform of a major-general in the Confederate army, though its brilliancy was far less than that of many of his subordinate officers.

He spoke in measured tones, with the reins of his fine steed rest ing idly in his left hand while he leaned over the saddle and grasped the palm of the other officer. The latter formed a remarkable contrast to the illustrious leader of the Southern armies. He was clad in a dilapidated single-breasted coat of rusty gray, sun-scorched about the shoulders until it was almost yellow, and a faded cadet cap was tilted for ward on his nose, while he bestrode a rickety sorrel horse and his stirrups were so short that his legs were drawn up in the most awkward position that can be imagined. He looked as if he was crouch ing behind the head of the animal and peeping at the enemy over his ears. His chief interest for the moment seemed to centre in a lemon, which he held in one hand and occasionally raised to his mouth while squeezing it with his fingers.

His words, mumbled and jerked forth, sounded precisely the opposite of the measured, clearly-enunciated sen tences of General Lee. His full beard swept over his breast, and the steel-blue eyes that peered out from under the flapping cap were as bright as stars. He was General T. J. Jackson, destined to be known for ever in history as " Stonewall " Jackson. It was a very hot day in June, 1862, and while the two men closed hands and spoke to each other the air around them throbbed with the roar of bat tle. Two mighty armies, those of the North and the South, were closing in the desperate grapple of infuriated giants. The officers paused and listened to the uproar. From the woods, where the divisions of Hill and Longstreet were engaged, came the long rattling roll of musketry, while from the direction of Stonewall Jackson's own troops the clamor was fiercer and more overpowering.

General Lee looked in the face of Jackson and in his measured voice remarked, "That fire .is very heavy; can your men stand it?" The other stopped squeezing the lemon for the moment, though it was the most attractive delicacy he could raise to his lips, and, leaning his head to one side in a way peculiar to himself, listened like one who is straining to catch the sounds of music in the distance. General Lee was looking into the whiskered countenance and awaiting the reply. A moment later the bright eyes were turned toward him, and Jackson, with a nod of his head, spoke in his jerky fashion : "My men can stand that; my men can stand almost anything." General Lee hastily gave his instructions. Jack son saluted him, and, wheeling his ungainly steed around, galloped rapidly in the direction of his corps, which was so hotly engaged with the enemy, while the commander-in-chief remained at Cold Harbor, opposite the centre of the Federal army.

The situation early in March, 1862, was as follows : On the day succeeding the memorable fight between the Monitor and the Merrimac, General McClellan, an able officer, began a movement against the Confederates, then encamped near Manassas. Through the mud and rain the Union ists forced their way to the old Manassas battle ground, only to find that the Confederates had abandoned the position the day before, taking with them all that was worth removing. General Mc- Clellan had long urged that the most feasible route to Bichmond was by way of the Feninsula. Presi dent Lincoln finally yielded consent, and the Army of the Potomac was transported down the river to Fortress Monroe by a fleet of nearly four hundred vessels, and the second " On-to-Bichmond " movement began. The army under the command of McClellan was a hundred thousand strong and one of the most magnificent organizations ever known.

The officers and soldiers were full of enthusiasm ; they had been well disciplined and trained for se rious work, and all they asked was an opportunity to prove their courage and ability. McClellan made his way • to Yorktown, where he found con fronting him Magruder with a Confederate division of about five thousand men, exclusive of the gar risons with which he was guarding a line, thirteen miles long, extending across the Peninsula. The Federal commander began digging, and enormous entrenchments were thrown up ; ponderous guns were ordered from Washington ; miles of corduroy road were built, and every preparation was made for an extended siege. Meanwhile, General Joseph E. Johnston had re inforced the Confederates with his army from Ma nassas, and McClellan, having completed his most elaborate preparations, was ready to open fire.

As he was about to do so he awoke to the fact that there were no Confederates in front of him, for General Johnston had withdrawn and taken position nearer Bichmond. McClellan immediately started in pursuit. The Confederate rear-guard, reinforced shortly afterward by Longstreet's di vision, stationed themselves at Williamsburg, so as to gain time for the baggage-trains to get well in the rear of Fort Magruder, which with thirteen redoubts commanded all the roads leading north ward. Early on the morning of May 5, " Fighting Joe Hooker " arrived and began a furious attack, which lasted most of the day. The loss of the Union troops was heavy, but they remained on the ground, and prepared to renew the attack the next morning. When, however, daylight came, his adversary was invisible ; for General Johnston, having accom plished his purpose, fell back, and was beyond reach.

McClellan unopposed followed the Confed erate army. The roads were frightful, and nearly two weeks were consumed in marching less than fifty miles. But the Unionists were alarmingly close to the capital of the Confederacy. From their camp they could look upon the spires and steeples of Bichmond, while every one within the city plainly heard the sounds of firing in the en trenchments. Many of the inhabitants, believing the city was doomed, fled, and the Confederate Congress hastily adjourned. The situation was most serious indeed. General McDowell, who was at Fredericksburg with thirty thousand men, was daily expected to join forces with General Fitz-John Porter, who had captured Hanover Court-House, and McClellan was evi dently only awaiting the arrival of reinforcements before making his final assault on Bichmond.

General Joe Johnston understood the great peril and skilfully parried it. The meteoric Stonewall Jackson was sent out with a large force to threaten Washington. He swept up the Shenandoah Valley like a cyclone, captured Front Boyal, sent General Banks scurrying from Strasburg in terror toward Washington, his panic-stricken men marching thir ty-five miles in one day in order to place themselves securely on the other side of the Potomac. The appearance of Jackson so close to the national capital threw the Federal government into the wildest excitement and alarm. The fear of the capture of Washington was the incubus which haunted the Union government for years. It was that dread which palsied their military arm more than once and rendered harmless campaigns that otherwise would have been resistless in momentum.

Whenever the Confederates found the Union army threatening Bichmond, they created a diversion by threatening Washington. The effect in this instance was all that was in tended. The Union government immediately took possession of the railroads ; troops were called from all quarters of the compass to protect the capital. Fremont at Franklin, Banks at Harper's Ferry and McDowell at Fredericksburg, with their sixty thou sand men, were ordered to capture Jackson ; but that dashing raider was as brilliant on the retreat as on the advance, and he dodged the overwhelming forces with the skill of a fox, doubling on his own trail, and without mishap rejoined General John ston on the Peninsula. Meanwhile, stirring events were taking place near Bichmond. McClellan had pushed his left wing across the Chickahominy and taken possession of Seven Pines and Fair Oaks.

The movement was hardly completed when a terrific storm came up, which overflowed the surrounding swamps and turned the stream into a roaring flood. Seiz ing the opportunity, General Johnston launched his army against McClellan's left wing, and would doubtless have captured it had not General Sedg wick's division of Sumner's corps crossed the Chick ahominy on a tottering bridge and with a strong battery of Napoleon guns plunged into the thick est of the fight and checked the Confederate ad vance. The Confederates were soon after driven back to Fair Oaks station, where, just at sunset, Gen eral Johnston was severely wounded by a shell, and, though the attack was renewed on the next morning, it was repulsed with little difficulty by McClellan.* McClellan did not attempt to pursue the Con federates, and for nearly a month remained idle.

During the three months which had elapsed since his arrival on the Peninsula the Confederates had improved, it may be said, every hour. They had passed their severe conscription law, enrolled their troops and gathered the largest force yet placed in the field. * General Joseph Eccleston Johnston was one of the ablest officers of the Southern Confederacy. He was born in Virginia in 1807, graduated at West Point in 1829, and served in the Seminole war. During the Mex ican war he served as captain of topographical engineers under General Scott in all the important actions, was twice wounded, and was brevetted colonel. In June, 1860, he became quartermaster-general, with the rank of brigadier-general. He commanded at Bull Run, and after recovering from his severe wound received at Seven Pines was assigned to the com mand of the Departments of Tennessee and Mississippi.

After Bragg*s defeat at Chattanooga he took command of his army, occupying a position at Dalton, Ga., which was turned by Sherman early in May, 1864 whereupon^he fell back successively to Resaca, Allatoona Pass, Kene^ saw Mountain and Atlanta, in turns fighting and being flanked by the much more powerful Federal army. He was superseded in July by General Hood. In February, 1865, he was assigned to the command of troops to oppose Sherman's march through the Carolinas. He fought a part of Sherman's army at Bentonville, N. C, on March 19, and sur rendered the forces under his command to that general, April 26 at Durham's Station, near Greensboro', N. C. He published a Narrdtim of Military Operations in 1874. General Bobert E. Lee was assigned to the com mand of the Confederate army June 3, three days after General Johnston received his wound.

Lee was anxious to strike the Union army a severe blow. To do so it was necessary to know the weakest and the strongest point of the enemy. This knowledge General Lee secured by means of Stuart's raid, which was one of the most brilliant exploits of the whole war.

Chapter II. Mcclellan's Retreat

General Stuart having secured the knowledge so important to General Lee, the latter decided to hurl his army against the Union right wing at Me chanicsville, while Jackson, who was daily expect ed from the Shenandoah, was to advance still farther to the left, cut off the Union base of supplies at White House, and then assail the rear. Stone wall Jackson terrified the authorities in Washing ton into summoning back General McDowell, who was on his way to reinforce McClellan, thus leav ing the Union army in a condition to invite the attack, which was not delayed. As McClellan con fidently expected McDowell, he had left his right wing comparatively unfortified, and that point, as was inevitable, was the one against which General Lee directed his assault. McClellan knew that not only were the promised reinforcements denied him, but that the terri ble Stonewall and his division were marching rap idly down the Shenandoah Valley in the direction of Richmond.

Realizing his peril, he determined to abandon the York River Railroad and change the base of supplies to James Biver, seventeen miles distant. To succeed in this important movement, it was necessary for the right wing to hold its position against all assaults until the rest of the army, with its forty miles of wagon-train, should pick its way through the White Oak Swamp ; but before this movement began, General Lee had struck his blow. Generals A. P. Hill and Long; street crossed the Chickahominy and attacked the Union right at Mechanicsville. A small Federal force behind entrenchments was soon dispersed and driven back toward Beaver Dam Creek. The Mechanicsville bridge being thus opened, General Longstreet, in obedience to Lee's orders, threw his division across the creek. Hill, who had pushed forward for a mile or two, found him self brought to a standstill by the powerful position of the Unionists on Beaver Dam Creek.

Nevertheless, he advanced, but was met with such a determined resistance that he was obliged to fall back. It was beyond his power to cross the stream in the face of such a murderous discharge of mus ketry and cannon, and, night coming on, the attack ended for the time ; but at daylight the impetuous Hill renewed the attempt to cross the stream, at a point lower down. While thus engaged the Fed eral troops were observed to be rapidly falling back from their almost impregnable position. This was caused by the arrival of Stonewall Jackson, who had passed around the right flank above and forced the Federals to fall back on the main army below. Hill moved steadily onward, and at noon was in front of the formidable position held by the Union army near Cold Harbor. General McClellan had posted his army on a ridge along the southern ba*nk of Powhite Creek, a small stream which empties into the Chicka hominy below New Bridge.

He had filled a deep ravine on his left with sharpshooters, while his right rested on elevated ground. His line of battle curved backward and was protected by difficult approaches. The ground was covered with mat ted undergrowth in some places, and was spongy and swampy in others. Breastworks of felled trees and of earth had been hurriedly thrown up, and behind them the vast lines of infantry, supported by artillery, confronted their assailants. Fitz- John Porter commanded the Union forces, with General Morell on his right and General Sykes on his left. Slocum's division, and afterward the brigades of French and Meagher, reinforced Por ter, who coolly awaited the Confederate attack. Hill opened about noon, and the battle which followed was desperate and bloody. So great was the anxiety of General Lee that in company with General Longstreet he had ridden from his head quarters, on the Nine-Mile road, and now watched in person the behavior of his troops under fire.

His coolness, his serene and majestic presence, in the swirl of the conflict were like those of the great Von Moltke, whose placid face never flushed and who felt not an additional pulse-throb when he saw the French empire crumbling into noth ingness at Sedan before the advance of the Prus sian eagles. Hill assaulted the Federal lines with that dash and daring so characteristic of him, but he made no more impression than if he had charged against the side of a granite mountain. The Federal artillery did dreadful execution, and the infantry poured a merciless fire into the Confederate lines ; but so impetuous was the rush of the assailants that three of Hill's regiments reached the crest of the hill, where the Union troops were stationed, and for a brief while the fight was hand to hand. But it was all in vain ; mortal man could not stand the fiery sirocco that swept the earth, and the Confed erates were forced to give way after two hours' hard fighting, having met with great loss and accomplished but little.

Meanwhile, General Lee was listening for the sound of Stonewall Jackson's guns ; but nothing was heard, and the situation became critical. Lee, with his masterly genius, grasped every detail and fully appreciated the peril which threatened him. He saw that McClellan would probably send enough reinforcements to Fitz-John Porter to enable him to attack him in turn, or, knowing how small was the force defending Bichmond, might overwhelm it and make a hurried march against the city. Longstreet was sent to the relief of Hill, and he advanced under a fierce fire to make a feint upon the Union left. While thus engaged he caught the thunderous roar of guns and heard the tumultuous shouting on the left of Lee's line. He knew what it meant : Stonewall Jackson had arrived. Having hurled his troops into action, Jackson galloped to Cold Harbor, where General Lee was so anxiously awaiting him ; and when they met, the scene took place with which our first chapter opened.

Generals Lee and Jackson having hastily formed their plans, the latter dashed back to his command, and instantly a great change took place in every part of the field. Whiting and a portion of Jackson's old division quickly moved to the right to support Longstreet and to take position between him and the remnants of A. P. Hill's division. As soon as these and a few other movements were completed General Lee ordered an attack along the whole line, and in a few minutes the long stretch between Cold Harbor and the muddy Chickahominy was aflame with fire, and the earth quivered with the shock of the contending armies. Porter's troops were worn out with their five hours of fighting, but the rattle of musketry and the roar of can non roused them again as a giant is roused by new wine. Their artillery was reinforced, and con verged wherever the Confederate battalions gleamed through the smoke and mists of battle.

On the right, near McGee's farm, the cannoneers found the Confederates at the very throats of their can non. The assailants fell in swaths, but others seemed to spring from the ground, and many can noneers were driven from their guns; but they rushed back the next minute to recapture the pieces. Ewell was pounding away between Mc- Gee's farm and New Cold Harbor, but for a time without result. Seeing his straits, Jackson sent three brigades of his old division against the wood of New Cold Harbor. This was the weakest point of the whole Federal line, and it was assailed with the fierceness of so many tigers. The Federals made a brave defence, but were compelled to fall back. Their ammunition ran low, and they were in the last stages of exhaustion. In the narrow angle of the wood where artillery could not be used the soldiers fought singly, striking at a foe wherever found,- and the conflict became blind, aimless, and, indeed, useless.

At this critical moment, as the sun was sinking in the hot summer sky, Stonewall Jackson dashed up with his last reserves and ordered a general attack. There could be but the one result. General Hood and his fiery Texans charged the Federal left with an impetuosity which carried everything before it. All in vain did the Federal artillery converge its fire upon them. As the men went down before the iron sleet the ranks closed up, and never a man faltered. Halting only long enough to fire, they rushed forward with their wild yells until the cannon were * reached. The artillery horses, wild with terror, galloped away, and the artillerymen who remained behind were trampled under the feet of the furious legions from the Lone Star State. Far over on the extreme left Longstreet had carried forward a similar movement.

The Unionists fought bravely, but were compelled to give way, though they saved most of their guns and were able to check Longstreet's movement toward Alexander Bridge. But the Confederates were conquering everywhere. Two Federal regiments, while fighting like heroes in the woods near Cold Harbor, found themselves completely surrounded, and the greater number were killed or wounded. The survivors were forced to surrender. Ewell and D. H. Hill succeeded in planting their artillery on the summit of the hill held so long by Sykes's division, which was crushed by the fire. The retreat of the Federals on the left and centre threatened to become a disastrous rout, and the situation of the Army of the Potomac was critical in the highest degree. Only a single passage remained by which they could make their way to the other side of the Chickahominy.

If that were seized by the Confederates, the Army of the Poto mac would be blotted out as though it had never existed-. The North would receive a blow likely to prove mortal, and one which would shake every town, village and hamlet in the country to its very centre. But not yet. The terrific efforts of the Confederates had exhausted them, and they halted to reform their lines. Night was closing in, and there came a lull in the fearful tumult, when the combatants on each side were able to halt and learn the condition of affairs. The losses on each side were frightful. Thirty five thousand Federals were engaged, of whom one fifth were killed or wounded. The loss of the Con federates was fully as great, but they had gained a victory of transcendent importance. They had cap tured many guns and prisoners and checked the advance upon Bichmond, which a short time be fore looked as if it were to be irresistible.

The magnificent Army of the Potomac, trained to the highest point, finely disciplined, thoroughly armed and under the command of skilful officers, not only filled the hearts of the North with hope, but caused the gravest alarm throughout the South. From elevated positions in Bichmond men could look off with their glasses and plainly see the Union soldiers at work in their entrenchments, and the "Stars and Bars" seemed to be inter twined, as may be said, with the Stars and Stripes which floated above the besieging forces.* * Respecting the flag adopted by the Confederacy, General Joe John stone said a short time since: "At the battle of Manassas— you Northerners call it Bull Run — the Stars and Bars proved a failure because they were so much like the Union colors. Indeed, both armies mistook their enemies for friends, and vice versd.

After the battle I had resolved to discard this flag, and called for each regiment to produce its State colors. This they were We have alluded to the consternation in Bich mond when it was found that the Unionists were hammering at the very gates of the city. The Confederate Congress hastly adjourned, President Davis sent his family farther south, and there were general preparations on the part of all to move. But all was now changed. Under the splen did leadership of Lee and his skilled and intrepid lieutenants, the army of invasion had been hurled backward ; its grip upon the throat of the South had been shaken off, and it was seeking affrighte'dly for some path of escape from the wrath of its mas ter. The enormous importance of the Confederate victory was moral rather than physical, for, in point of fact, the victory itself was not complete.

The severe fighting at Gaines's Mill and the inaction of the Federals on the other side of the Chickahominy led General Lee to think that he had engaged and defeated the larger part of the Army of the Potomac, and that McClellan was so environed by difficulties and dangers that he would be forced to surrender his entire command. Thus it came about that, while on the north side of the Chickahominy thirty thousand Union troops were assailed by twice as many Confederates, twentynot able to do, and I asked the army for new designs. Among those presented, one by General Beauregard was chosen, and I altered this only in making it square instead of oblong. This flag was afterward adopted by the Confederate armies. It was a Greek cross of blue on a red field, with white stars on the blue bars. The flag was designed by a Colonel Walton, of Louisiana, and presented to General Beauregard " five thousand Confederates on the south side held in check more than twice as many Unionists.

While Lee was quietly preparing to capture the Army of the Potomac on the morrow, that army was making desperate efforts to gather itself to gether and flee from under the avalanche about to fall upon it. Generals, colonels, captains and subor dinate officers were hunting up their men and put ting companies and regiments in shape ; privates were rushing hither and thither in the effort to find where they belonged ; the sick and wounded received scant attention, but it was the best that could be given under the circumstances ; the dead, who were stretched everywhere, were scarcely thought of, for what avail was it to give them any care? There was but the single overwhelming desire, " How shall we escape the crouching tiger that is gathering his muscles for the fatal leap ?" When men are intent on flight, little time is required to make preparation.

The sultry sum mer night had no more than fairly closed in when the head of the long line of fugitives debouched from the wood and began tramping across the Alexander bridge. A squadron of cavalry had held it during the day, so as to turn back the panic-stricken Federals who might seek to escape. Hour after hour the swarming multitude tramped over the bridge, until in the small hours of the morning the last wounded man and the last can non were safely across the stream. The regulars were the last over, and they immediately turned about and destroyed the splendid structure that had served them so well. While this mournful procession was passing, General McClellan and his leading officers were gathered together near the south entrance to the bridge, holding a council of war. The countenance of the youthful commander was grave and he talked in guarded and serious tones.

The fire light which fell on the faces of the others showed they fully appreciated the gravity of the situation. The splendid Army of the Potomac was beaten, and what should be done? This memorable conference was marked by a most extraordinary incident: McClellan, the em bodiment of caution and hesitation, suddenly astounded his officers by the proposal to capture Bichmond while the main body of its defenders were too far away to offer any defence. His officers, however, had little difficulty in dissuading their leader from the project. One cannot but speculate as to what would have been the outcome of such an achievement. Unquestionably, McClel lan could have taken the city, and a most remark able complication would have followed. He, in turn, would have been besieged by "the Confeder ates and cut off from his supplies, and, with the country around him intensely hostile, could not have sustained himself very long.