Hearts Touched by Fire

by Harold Holzer

  The battle, which during the morning raged with more or less violence on the right and left of this position, gradually slackened, and attention was concentrated upon the Angle. So continuous and heavy was our fire that the head logs of the breastworks were cut and torn until they resembled hickory brooms. Several large oak-trees, which grew just in the rear of the works, were completely gnawed off by our converging fire, and about 3 o’clock in the day fell among the enemy with a loud crash.4

  Toward dusk preparations were made to relieve us. By this time we were nearly exhausted, and had fired three to four hundred rounds of ammunition per man. Our lips were incrusted with powder from “biting cartridge.” Our shoulders and hands were coated with mud that had adhered to the butts of our rifles.5

  The troops of the Second Corps, who were to relieve us, now moved up, took our position, and opened fire as we fell back a short distance to rearrange our shattered ranks and get something to eat, which we were sadly in need of. When darkness came on we dropped from exhaustion.

  About midnight, after twenty hours of constant fighting, Lee withdrew from the contest at this point, leaving the Angle in our possession. Thus closed the battle of the 12th of May.

  On the 13th, early in the day, volunteers were called for to bury the dead. The writer volunteered to assist, and with the detail moved to the works near the Angle, in front of which we buried a number of bodies near where they fell. We were exposed to the fire of sharp-shooters, and it was still raining. We cut the name, company, and regiment of each of the dead on the lids of ammunition-boxes which we picked up near by. The inscriptions were but feebly executed, for they were done with a pocket-knife. This work ended, we went close up where we had fought on Thursday and viewed the “Bloody Angle.”

  A momentary gleam of sunshine through the gloom of the sky seemed to add a new horror to the scene. Hundreds of Confederates, dead or dying, lay piled over one another in those pits. The fallen lay three or four feet deep in some places, and, with but few exceptions, they were shot in and about the head. Arms, accouterments, ammunition, cannon, shot and shell, and broken foliage were strewn about. With much labor a detail of Union soldiers buried the dead by simply turning the captured breastworks upon them. Thus had these unfortunate victims unwittingly dug their own graves.6 The trenches were nearly full of muddy water. It was the most horrible sight I had ever witnessed.

  The enemy’s defenses at this point were elaborately constructed of heavy timber, banked with earth to the height of about four feet; above this was placed what is known as a head log, raised just high enough to enable a musket to be inserted between it and the lower work. Pointed pine and pin-oak formed an abatis, in front of which was a deep ditch. Shelves ran along the inside ledges of these works (a series of square pits) and along their flank traverses which extended to the rear; upon these shelves large quantities of “buck and ball” and “minie” cartridges were piled ready for use, and the guns of the dead and wounded were still pointing through the apertures, just as the men had fallen from them.

  UNION HOSPITAL AT ALSOP’S FARM-HOUSE, NEAR THE BROCK ROAD. FROM A WAR-TIME PHOTOGRAPH.

  * * *

  1 Steuart occupied only part of the right parallel; Jones, Stafford, and Hays were on his left, and Lane was on his right in that parallel.—EDITORS.

  2 Of the Union troops on the left of Hancock, General Grant (“Personal Memoirs,” p.231) says:

  “Burnside on the left had advanced up east of the salient to the very parapet of the enemy. Potter, commanding one of his divisions, got over, but was not able to remain there.… Burnside accomplished but little on our left of a positive nature, but negatively a great deal. He kept Lee from reënforcing his center from that quarter.”

  —EDITORS.

  3 This is, I believe, the only instance in the history of the war of a battery charging on breastworks. It was commanded by Lieutenant James Gillies, and was attached to the Second Corps. Sergeant William E. Lines, one of only two survivors of the section that went in on that day, and who commanded the right gun, has given the writer the following facts relative to the matter:

  “After the capture of the Confederate works, we were put in position just under the hill near the small pine-trees so much spoken of. We fired a few rounds of solid shot. Of course we could not see the Confederate line, but we elevated our guns so as to clear our own infantry. While we were waiting, a staff-officer with a Sixth Corps badge rode up to Lieutenant Gillian, and I could see they had some argument or dispute, for the officer soon went away. Directly another officer rode up to Gillian, and the same sort of colloquy took place, the officer evidently wanting Gillian to do something that the latter would not do. This officer rode away. In a very short time General Wright, who then commanded the Sixth Corps, rode up to Gillian, and had a moment’s conversation with him. Lieutenant Metcalf then came over to the first section, and gave the command, ‘Limber the guns,’ ‘drivers mount,’ ‘cannoneers mount,’ ‘caissons rear,’ and away we went, up the hill, past our infantry, and into position. The staff-officer who led us was shot before we got into position. I have often thought it was owing to that fact that we got so close to the enemy’s works. We were a considerable distance in front of our infantry, and of course artillery could not live long under such a fire as the enemy were putting through there. Our men went down in short order. The left gun fired nine rounds. I fired fourteen with mine, and was assisted in the last four rounds by an officer of a Vermont regiment, and by another from the 95th Pennsylvania, both of whom were shot. The effect of our canister upon the Confederates was terrible: they were evidently trying to strengthen their first line from the second when we opened on them, and you can imagine the execution at that distance. When Lieutenant Metcalf and myself could no longer serve the guns, we withdrew. Our section went into action with twenty-three men and one officer—Lieutenant Metcalf. The only ones who came out sound were the lieutenant and myself. Every horse was killed, seven of the men were killed outright, sixteen wounded; the gun-carriages were so cut with bullets as to be of no further service.… Twenty-seven balls passed through the lid of the limber-chest while Number Six was getting out ammunition, and he was wounded in the face and neck by the fragments of wood and lead. The sponge-bucket on my gun had thirty-nine holes in it, being perforated like a sieve. The force of the balls can be imagined when I say that the bucket was made of one-eighth-inch iron. One curious circumstance on the morning we captured the works [May 12th] was, that musketry shots seemed to make such a slight noise; instead of the sharp bing of the shot, it was a dull thud. This may have been an important aid to our success, as the [first] firing of the enemy’s skirmishers did not alarm their men in the breastworks.”

  —G.N.G.

  It is also claimed that a section of Brown’s Rhode Island battery was run up to the breastworks in a similar manner.—EDITORS.

  4 The stump of one of these trees is preserved in Washington. In his official report, Brigadier-General Samuel McGowan, who commanded a brigade in Wilcox’s Confederate division, says: “To give some idea of the intensity of the fire, an oak-tree twenty-two inches in diameter, which stood just in rear of the right of the brigade, was cut down by the constant scaling of musket-balls, and fell about 12 o’clock Thursday night, injuring by its fall several soldiers in the 1st South Carolina regiment.”—EDITORS.

  5 Our pieces at times would become choked with burnt powder, and would receive the cartridge but half way. This fact, however, did not interfere with their discharge.—G.N.G.

  6 The Confederate General McGowan officially says: “The trenches on the right in the ‘Bloody Angle’ ran with blood and had to be cleared of the dead bodies more than once.”—EDITORS.

  CHAPTER 3

  SHERIDAN’S RICHMOND RAID.

  Theo. F. Rodenbough, Brevet Brigadier-General, U.S.A.

  The Army of the Potomac had been hibernating on the left bank of the Rapidan River, when as the season for active operations was about to open (April, 1864)
there arrived a lieutenant-general commanding and a chief of cavalry. The one was not unknown to fame; the other was almost an entire stranger to his new command.

  During the first two years of the war the Union cavalry lacked the paternal care essential to its proper development. Its first father was General Hooker, who organized a multitude of detachments into a compact army corps of 12,000 horsemen; transforming that which had been a by-word and a reproach into a force that, by its achievements in war, was ultimately to effect a radical change in the armament and use of mounted troops by the great military powers.

  The winter of 1863–64 brought little rest to the cavalry. While the artillery and infantry were comfortably quartered, the cavalry was “hutted” three miles in front of the infantry picket lines, and a part was distributed as escorts and orderlies at infantry headquarters. Although the infantry maintained a picket line of its own, where it was useless, the cavalry was compelled to keep up a chain of videttes sixty miles in length, besides the necessary patrol duty and reconnoissances. Upon his arrival, Grant seems to have noted this maladministration and to have taken steps to correct it. For a chief of his cavalry, he told the President, he “wanted the very best man in the army,” and few will deny that he got that man.

  UNHORSED TROOPERS RETURNING FROM SHERIDAN’S RAID.

  I remember Sheridan’s arrival at the headquarters of the Cavalry Corps. We all thought a commander might have been selected from home material. One or two things that he did, however, met with warm approval. He set about reforming the abuses above referred to. On one occasion he was about to send a staff-officer to demand the immediate return to the corps of a small regiment which had been acting as “body-guard” for an infantry general. The officer, desiring for certain reasons to secure a modification of the order, sounded General Sheridan, who simply turned to him and in a low but distinct tone said: “Give my compliments to General X. and say that I have been placed in command of the cavalry of this army, and by —— I want it all.”

  The 15,000 “paper strength” of the corps was sifted to 12,424 effectives. There were three divisions, subdivided into seven brigades. General A.T.A. Torbert was assigned to command the First Division, with General G. A. Custer, Colonel T. C. Devin, and General Wesley Merritt as brigade commanders; General D. McM. Gregg to the Second Division, with General H. E. Davies and Colonel J. Irvin Gregg to brigades; General J. H. Wilson to the Third Division, with Colonels J. B. McIntosh and G. H. Chapman to brigades. To each division were attached two batteries of horse artillery, with the same number as a reserve.

  Sheridan’s lieutenants were well chosen. Torbert had already distinguished himself as an infantry commander; Gregg had come from the regular cavalry and possessed the confidence of the whole corps for good judgment and coolness; Wilson, promoted from the corps of engineers, was very quick and impetuous; Merritt was a pupil of the Cooke-Buford school, with cavalry virtues well proportioned, and to him was given the Reserve Brigade of regulars—the Old Guard. Custer was the meteoric sabreur; McIntosh, the last of a fighting race; Devin, the “Old War Horse”; Davies, polished, genial, gallant; Chapman, the student-like; Irvin Gregg, the steadfast. There were, besides, Graham, Williston, Butler, Fitzhugh, Du Pont, Pennington, Clark, Randolph, Brewerton, Randol, Dennison, Martin, all tried men of the horse artillery.

  The campaign was opened May 3d–4th, 1864, with the crossing of the Rapidan River by the army in two columns: one (Hancock’s corps), preceded by Gregg’s cavalry division, at Ely’s Ford; the other (Warren and Sedgwick), led by Wilson, at Germanna Ford. The enemy’s pickets were brushed away, the pontoons laid down, and the troops and immense trains were moved to the south side, apparently before Lee had realized the fact. On the second day Warren was attacked and Wilson found himself, for the time, separated from our infantry and confronted near Todd’s tavern by a strong force of cavalry under Hampton, which engaged Wilson vigorously and after some fighting began to press him back. The opportune reënforcement of two regiments from Gregg turned the tables, and the enemy was driven beyond Corbin’s Bridge. From the start Lee’s cavalry was aggressive, and by its ceaseless activity in that densely wooded region reminded one of a swarm of bees suddenly disturbed by strange footsteps. On the 7th a more determined effort was made by Stuart to get on the left and rear of Meade, tempted by the rich prize of four thousand wagons. Torbert and Gregg were pitted against Hampton and Fitz Lee. The fight lasted from 4 P.M. until after dark, the field remaining in possession of the Union force; it was renewed early on the 8th, and after an obstinate struggle, in which the losses were heavy on both sides,—especially in officers,—the Confederates gave it up and retired sullenly. This was a cavalry affair, although in sight of the infantry of both armies. The curious blending of tragic and commonplace elements in war was illustrated during the hottest of the fight on the second day. It was raging about a small farm-house apparently deserted; shells were bursting in the yard, especially around the old-fashioned “pole” well, bullets were pattering on the shingles, dead and wounded men and horses made the place a slaughter-house. As Captain Leoser, 2d United States Cavalry, was advancing his skirmishers near the house, the cellar door was slowly lifted and a harsh-featured woman poked her head out, looked at the well and then at the captain, and threw an empty bucket at him with the curt remark, “Yank, I reckon you kin tote me a pail o’ water,” and promptly disappeared.

  General Grant states in his “Memoirs” that on the 8th of May he gave Sheridan verbal orders to start on an independent expedition toward Richmond.1 But he does not mention an incident that may have precipitated that movement. It happened that on the 8th of May Grant, Meade, and Sheridan were together at army headquarters. Meade seemed somewhat anxious about his trains, and said something to which Sheridan took exception. Meade instantly remarked, “No, I don’t mean that,” and put his hand, in friendly fashion, on Sheridan’s shoulder. The cavalry general moved aside impatiently and replied with spirit, “If I am permitted to cut loose from this army I’ll draw Stuart after me, and whip him, too.” This was the principal object of the Richmond raid; the damage to the enemy was only incidental.

  A few hours were spent in preparation. The command was stripped of all impediments, such as unserviceable animals, wagons, and tents. The necessary ammunition train, two ambulances to a division, a few pack-mules for baggage, three days’ rations and a half-day’s forage carried on the saddle, comprised the outfit. Torbert being disabled, Merritt assumed command of his division, and Gibbs of the Reserve Brigade. On the 9th of May, 1864, at 6 A.M., this magnificent body of 10,000 horsemen moved out on the Telegraph Road leading from Fredericksburg to Richmond. According to a Southern authority it took four hours at a brisk pace to pass a given point; to those who viewed it from behind barred windows and doors it was like the rush of a mighty torrent.

  MAJOR-GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

  The column as it stood, “fours” well closed up, was thirteen miles long. It had been moving at a walk for two hours before the enemy caught up, and Wickham’s brigade began to harass Sheridan’s rear. It made no difference in the progress of the Union column, although numerous little brushes occurred. In one of these the 1st North Carolina Cavalry charged our rear-guard, consisting of the 6th Ohio Cavalry and a section of the 6th New York Battery. In the mêlée a Confederate officer cut his way through the column to the rear piece; placing his hand on the gun he exclaimed, “This is my piece.” “Not by a d——d sight,” replied a cannoneer, as with a well-planted blow of his fist he knocked the would-be captor off his horse and took him prisoner.

  Passing through Chilesburg late in the afternoon, the leading brigade of Merritt’s division (Custer’s) took the trot and charged into Beaver Dam Station, on the Virginia Central Railroad, at an opportune moment. Two trains of cars carrying wounded and prisoners from Spotsylvania were about to start for Richmond. In a moment 378 Union captives rent the air with their cheers; the guard accompanying the trains escaped, leaving the
ir arms behind, together with a large quantity of small-arms from the battle-field. After reserving certain articles, the torch was applied to the trains and buildings, with 1,500,000 rations and medical stores for Lee’s army. The railroad track and telegraph were destroyed for some distance, the work being continued throughout the night while the main body rested. By the morning of the 10th Stuart had concentrated a large force, and about breakfast-time he announced the fact by sending a few shells into Gregg’s camp. A skirmish ensued, and the march was resumed to Ground Squirrel bridge over the South Anna River, where all bivouacked. Even during the night the enemy buzzed about us, evidently trying to wear us out. On the 11th, at 3 A.M., Davies moved to Ashland and, not without a severe encounter with Munford’s Virginia cavalry, destroyed culverts, trestle-bridges, and six miles of track, besides a warehouse and a number of cars, losing thirty men.

  At 5 A.M. the main column moved on to Glen Allen Station, where Stuart’s skirmishers were encountered and pressed back to within two miles of Yellow Tavern. Here a determined stand was made for the right of way to the Confederate capital, distant only six miles. Devin was first engaged, and soon the entire First Division went in. Several mounted charges were made, and two guns and a number of prisoners were taken. A dispatch from Stuart to Bragg asking for reënforcements was intercepted, disclosing the enemy’s weakness. Under the circumstances the Confederates are entitled to the greatest credit for the pertinacity and pluck displayed. Finally Wilson with part of his division was put in on Merritt’s left, and the line, advancing, broke the enemy’s grip and the fight was won. At this moment Stuart received his death-wound by a pistol-shot in the abdomen. Deep in the hearts of all true cavalrymen, North and South, will ever burn a sentiment of admiration mingled with regret for this knightly soldier and generous man. Sheridan had succeeded in his purpose, but he had found a foeman worthy of his steel.