Smith was altogether self-confident in camp and at council table. Johnston was “Joe” to Smith; their relations were cordial and intimate. Toward the other general officers Smith’s feeling was one of bluff camaraderie, touched, perhaps, with a shade of superiority. In appearance he was tall and of powerful build, with massive, rough-hewn features. The line of his lips was proud, perhaps pompous. His manner was rapid and energetic and had the spirit of conscious command. Despite his assured bearing, he never had commanded troops in his life. His inexperience was not distrusted. There was doubt concerning his health. For the rest, he had prevailed upon the army and the country to take him at his own valuation of himself.9
Next in seniority to Smith was Major General James Longstreet. Many things had happened to Longstreet since Bonham had forbidden him to fire on the Federals in the twilight of Manassas Day. He had obeyed the order that evening and ridden off. In a grove of young pines he had dismounted—and exploded in his wrath. He had pulled off his hat, thrown it on the ground, and, with bitter words for Bonham, had stamped in a white rage.10 Since then Longstreet had discharged with soldierly diligence, but not with content, the duties of brigade and division command.
Despite the fact that he had left the line in 1858 and had become a paymaster, Longstreet placed no low estimate on what he described as the “hard service” he had rendered in Mexico and in the old army. Moreover, he considered himself the senior officer from Alabama who had left United States service, and as such he was determined that his rank should be respected. When, therefore, Gustavus W. Smith was made major general, after no previous labors for the Confederacy, Longstreet had been outraged. He had written a vigorous protest, which concluded: “The placing of persons above me whom I have always ranked and who have just joined this service I regard as great injustice. I therefore request that an officer be detailed to relieve me of this command.” This had its effect. Longstreet had been made a major general on October 7, to rank as of that date. This still left him junior to Smith, but apparently it had satisfied him.11
Although a slight deafness probably contributed to make his slow and unimaginative conversation largely a laconic and reluctant succession of “Yes” and “No,” he had seemed to enjoy a social glass. In poker he had acquired some renown. With Mrs. Longstreet spending the winter in Richmond, he had appeared at the President’s levees—a powerful figure, nearly six feet tall, broad of shoulder, with cold gray-blue eyes, thin sandy-brown hair, and a heavy beard that almost concealed his mouth. In January Longstreet had answered a hurried summons from his wife, rushed to the capital, and returned a changed, unhappy man. Scarlet fever had been raging in the city. Two of his children succumbed to it and were buried the same day; a third, a boy of twelve, died a week later. There was for Longstreet no more gaiety, no more poker, and, certainly for the time, no more liquor. Essentially, from that tragic January, he was a soldier and little besides.12
Proud, martial ambition remained in Longstreet’s heart, and grew with the larger responsibilities that came after the withdrawal from Manassas and then from Yorktown. Now that the army was on the move, Johnston put six brigades in Longstreet’s care. These included the commands of A. P. Hill, Pickett, and Anderson, all of them “Manassas brigades,” with Cadmus Wilcox’s Alabama and Mississippi regiments from Smith’s division, R. E. Colstons small command from Huger’s division south of the James, and Roger A. Pryor’s troops of Magruder’s Army of the Peninsula. The size of this division reflected the confidence of Johnston in its commander.
As Longstreet rode put for the long succession of battles that lay ahead, any appraisal of him would have taken into account the scantiness of his previous opportunities. He had done little and had proposed nothing that had the stamp of genius. On the other hand, his administration had been excellent and his discipline firm but not harsh. He never was tired. Days and nights of exposure he might endure and, at the end, be the same clearheaded, imperturbable soldier. His silence, his self-confidence, and his success in creating manifest morale among his troops had given him a reputation that was solid. Had those who most thoroughly knew the army been asked to describe in one word Longstreet and his command in that fateful spring of 1862, they probably would have agreed on the same soldierly term: dependable. Brilliance there might not be; reliability there undoubtedly was.
On that third of May the fourth and last division of the army followed the old route from Yorktown to Williamsburg. Its commander was D. Harvey Hill, who had seen much service, of large interest and of small, after his days as Magruder’s lieutenant on the Yorktown front. In September 1861, Hill had been transferred to North Carolina, where he had shown great energy in organizing the defenses between Fort Macon and the Virginia line. Midway this task he had been ordered, on November 16, to report to Johnston. The change had caused much regret in North Carolina, but it had given Hill a North Carolina brigade under Longstreet. Soon it brought him semi-autonomous command at Leesburg on the Potomac, and promotion to the grade of major general.13
Now, as his division was leaving Yorktown, D. H. Hill was to confront the enemy with troops that never had been in action together. Four permanent and one temporary brigade (Crump’s) were his, together with a mixed command (Ward’s). One brigade, Jubal Early’s, included that general’s original 24th Virginia, which had fought at Manassas. In Robert Rodes’s brigade were two of Ewell’s regiments of July 1861, the 5th and 6th Alabama. Hill’s third brigade, Featherston’s, was the former garrison of the works at Manassas. Rains’s and Crump’s brigades, as well as Ward’s command, were of Magruder’s army. It was a division of unequal parts, to be sure, but it could be developed.
As much might have been said of the men in the ranks of all four of the divisions. Although the troops came from every station of life and included the weak along with the healthy, the illiterate by the side of the educated, they were military material in which the South had full faith from the hour of enlistment. Although that faith persisted, it was widely admitted that the army had been demoralized, perhaps dangerously, by the unwise Furlough and Bounty Act. Even when offered the bounty of fifty dollars, the furlough of sixty days, the privilege of changing from one arm of the service to another, and the opportunity of getting rid of unpopular officers by a new election, a majority of the men had declined to enter the service for three additional years. After this became apparent, the demand for general conscription grew. At length, under acts of April 16 and 23, conscription of all able-bodied white males between eighteen and thirty-five was prescribed for three years or the duration of the war. This meant, among other things, that if men of prescribed age who already were in the army did not voluntarily re-enlist, they would be mustered out and immediately conscripted.14
The command of the army was further impaired by the inclusion in the new statute of the provision in the old law which permitted companies and regiments, when re-enlisting, to elect their officers. Objection to this principle had been voiced earlier, but President Davis held steadfastly to it. The result was that many officers, including West Point graduates, were rejected because of the strictness of their discipline, and in their places corporals or even men from the ranks were elected. In Colonel J. C. Haskell’s discerning words, “some did not re-enlist at all, others did much later. Many of the regiments reorganized with new officers. The general effect was to break up very much the organization of the army.”15
Many of the regiments had new officers when they left Yorktown, many others were in the midst of their electoral campaigns, and in at least one case a regiment chose its commanders while bivouacked on the retreat from the Peninsula. “The troops,” Johnston reported on May 9, “in addition to the lax discipline of volunteers, are partially discontented at the conscription act and demoralized by their recent elections.”16
3
WILLIAMSBURG
It was past midnight, May 3-4, when the last division left Yorktown on the retreat to Williamsburg. To delay the troops, deep mud, that ancestral foe and
eternal concomitant of war, did its worst. Roads made heavy by recent rains became almost impassable. Guns, wagons, and marching men were rammed together like a charge in a musket. Shivering troops would move on for a minute or two—to be stopped again and again in the darkness. The rear units did not cover more than a mile per hour.17
At length, during the late morning and early afternoon of the fourth, the struggling columns reached the line of works that Magruder had constructed across the low ridge that separated the watershed of the James River from that of the York. It was a feeble line. At the junction of the Hampton and Yorktown roads was Fort Magruder, an earthwork of bastion front. On either side were small redoubts and epaulements, twelve in all. At these entrenchments probably few of the weary officers and men cast more than a glance. They expected to rest at Williamsburg, not to fight there. The road to the west stretched out before the army as a river of mud, but otherwise the situation was no more adverse than a retreat usually is. Johnston appeared to have a chance of getting away untouched.
Then, at 1 o’clock, the outlook changed. The Confederate cavalry were driven in. Federal infantry were believed to be in close support of their skirmishing mounted units. The obvious thing to do at the moment was to occupy Fort Magruder and the near-by line of redoubts to permit Johnston to put distance between the pursuers and the main Confederate force. He personally led the nearest brigade, that of Paul Semmes, into Fort Magruder. When General Lafayette McLaws rode up, Johnston ordered him to take charge of the defense. McLaws’s service with Magruder had given him some familiarity with the ground, and he quickly called up another brigade and two batteries of artillery to hold the line. He delivered a volume of fire that made the enemy recoil. By promptly erecting an adequate, if temporary, barrier, McLaws received a credit in the mind of the commanding general. The Georgian could be trusted.18
Because Johnston had determined that Magruder’s division should head the retreat that evening, the two brigades under McLaws were recalled after sunset. Longstreet was ordered to take their place, and he sent two brigades, R. H. Anderson’s and Pryor’s. Anderson carefully advanced his pickets beyond the fort, but more than that, as the rain beat down in the black night, he did not attempt. His was an uncomfortable position for an officer who, while experienced, had never before occupied so responsible a field position or commanded so many men directly in the face of the enemy.19
After daylight on May 5, Dick Anderson could see the immediate approaches to Fort Magruder, via the Yorktown and Hampton roads. He saw, too, what he could of his own defenses through the rain, which had diminished to a cold drizzle, but visibility was low. Of fortifications on the right Anderson could discern only four redoubts, and on the left, two. These six he promptly occupied.20 About 6:00 A.M. the Federals opened with their skirmishers and artillery. Steadily the front of action widened. The fire became more intense. Evidently they either were making a strong demonstration or else they were seeking to storm the rear guard and force a general engagement with the retreating army. In this uncertainty Longstreet felt it desirable to reinforce Anderson. As coolly as if he had fought a score of battles, Longstreet ordered first Cadmus Wilcox and then A. P. Hill to take their brigades back to Fort Magruder. Thence, as he saw the fighting extended, he ordered the reserve of his division, Pickett’s and Colston’s brigades, to advance for employment in any emergency.
This reinforcement emboldened Anderson. He or Longstreet or both of them decided to take the offensive. Orders were given. Ardently the men began to push forward and slowly to drive the stubborn, hard-hitting enemy back toward the woods. Guns, prisoners, and flags were taken. Casualties were not excessive, though later in the day two colonels of great promise were killed—C. H. Mott of the 19th Mississippi and G. T Ward of the 2nd Florida. Untried soldiers bore themselves well. The field appeared to be theirs.
Williamsburg, May 4-5, 1862. Fort Magruder and adjacent redoubts, woods, and abatis.
The rear guard action was not to end so easily. Trouble was in the making. Between 3 and 4 o’clock the Federals seized a redoubt far to the left, a redoubt that either had not been seen by Anderson or else had been assumed to be under the care of other troops. From this work the enemy began to pour artillery fire into Fort Magruder. This created much confusion and concern for the safety of the fort. Even before this occurred Longstreet had sensed danger on the left and had dispatched to D. H. Hill a request to send back a brigade to strengthen the left wing in case of necessity. Johnston himself went to the scene, alarmed by the volume of fire, but found the dispositions satisfactory and did not assume command.21
The brigade Hill sent was Jubal A. Early’s. The men splashed their way back through the mud and drizzle and halted on the campus of the College of William and Mary. One of the four regiments was the 24th Virginia, Early’s original command, which had distinguished itself at Manassas. The others were the 5th and 23rd North Carolina and the 38th Virginia; none of these had any combat experience. A muddy courier arrived with a brief order: “Move quickly to the support of Longstreet.” As the fire from the front was plainly audible and to inexperienced ears was heavy, the men formed quickly and marched eastward with vigorous step. They numbered close to 2,300 rank and file.
As they pressed on Longstreet overtook Early and pointed out ground to the left and rear of Fort Magruder where he was to post his brigade and await orders. It was a ridge overlooking a wheat field and a woods, beyond which came the loud echo of furiously firing artillery. Early felt sure the guns were Federal and were firing on Fort Magruder. While he was waiting there, burning with a desire to storm the invisible battery, D. H. Hill rode up. Hill explained that on Longstreet’s order he had brought up the three remaining brigades of his division. These he now was disposing in rear of Early, but he was not content to do that and no more. Hill, like Early, was full of the confident ardor of attack. If only he could throw his men forward and storm those guns!22
Hill made a brief reconnaissance of the woods and agreed with Early that an attack could be made which would take the Federal artillery in the rear. For such an attack the consent of Johnston, who urged caution, was procured. Approval also was had from Longstreet, who directed Hill to accompany the column. Eagerly, if nervously, the men took their places. Hill directed that the advance should be in a single line on brigade front. The 24th Virginia was placed on the left. On its right was the 38th Virginia, next the 23rd North Carolina, then the 5th North Carolina. The two Carolina regiments were to be led by Hill in person; the Virginia units were to be under the brigade commander.
The 24th Virginia started off briskly across the wheat field and into the woods, but the less experienced 38th was slow in getting under way. Soon it was fifty yards behind, and in the woods contact between the two regiments was lost almost immediately. On the right the units under the guidance of Hill started together and kept their formation until they encountered a tangle so thick that Hill could see nothing of the regiments on his left. He halted the two Carolina regiments and sent to determine if the 24th and 38th Virginia were ready to attack. It was a vain precaution. Early had not waited to see whether the troops on his right were aligned. Soon he was at the edge of the woods closest the enemy. “Follow me,” he shouted and plunged into the open.23
The general’s eyes and those of his old regiment were drawn instantly to a spectacle: To their left, near some farm buildings, facing them on a line almost at a right angle to theirs, was the object of the Confederate advance—the battery that had been heard beyond the woods. Eight or nine Federal guns were in action, with infantry support near at hand. This display of strength did not deter the 24th or the general. Early pivoted the regiment roughly on its left. Quickly, furiously, it started for the artillery. The surprised Federals fired a few rounds, then limbered up and dragged their pieces over the wet ground to cover. The 24th began pursuit, but it found the field so heavy from the rain that the men were well-nigh bogged. At this moment Early received a minié ball in his shoulder. He tried t
o remain with the regiment, but the flow of blood and the wounding of his horse compelled him to turn back.24
Meanwhile, Colonel D. K. McRae of the 5th North Carolina, on the extreme right of the brigade, had emerged from the woods and was engrossed with the puzzling situation he found. His regiment was under fire from Federal guns distant some 800 or 900 yards opposite his left. Was this the battery which Hill had told him, ere the advance began, he was to charge? In doubt, McRae halted and sent to Hill for orders. Hill regretted that any of the troops had gone into the open, but now he had to tell McRae to attack the battery that was firing on the 5th and to do it quickly. Execution of this movement involved a wide oblique and the Carolinians advanced with great gallantry under a heavy fire. Moreover, to form a continuous line with the 24th Virginia, they had a long distance to go. The reason for this was that the 23rd North Carolina and the 38th Virginia, forming the center of the brigade’s line, had not come out of the woods.25
D. H. Hill went to look for the two missing regiments. He found the 38th Virginia, to use his own words, “huddled up and in considerable confusion.” Its colonel had lost direction. He then beat his way through the underbrush to find the 23rd North Carolina. At length he came upon it and ordered it to form up with the 38th Virginia, but the 23rd was poorly drilled and, in the tangle, was slow to get in line. Without waiting for them to follow, he returned to the open field.
Lee's Lieutenants Page 14