“The right and left wings of the charging Union line met with better success, and each drove back all in its front, and, wholly disregarding the defeat of the center, persisted in advancing, each wheeling as upon a pivot, in the center of the line—then held by the Confederate masses. These masses were soon subjected to a terrible infantry fire upon both flanks as well as by the artillery in front. The swollen stream forbade a Confederate advance to attack the unguarded artillery. General Merritt and Colonel Stagg’s cavalry, in a simultaneous attack, overthrew all before them on the right and rear. The Confederate officers gallantly struggled to avert disaster, and bravely tried to form lines to the right and left to repel the flank attacks. This latter proved impossible. The troops on the flanks were pushed up to within a few feet of the massed Confederates, which rendered any re-formation or change of direction by them out of the question, and speedily brought hopeless disorder. A few were bayoneted on each side. Flight was impossible, and nothing remained to put an end to the bloody slaughter but for them to throw down their arms and become captives. As the gloom of approaching night settled over the field, covered with dead and dying, the fire of artillery and musketry ceased, and General Ewell, together with eleven of his general officers [including Kershaw, G.W.C. Lee, Barton, Du Bose, Hunton, and Corse], and about all his gallant army that survived, were prisoners. Commodore Tucker and his Marine Brigade, numbering about 2000, surrendered to me a little later. They were under cover of a dense forest, and had been passed by in the first onset of the assault. Of the particular operations of the cavalry the writer of this, of his personal knowledge, knows little; but no less praise is due it than to the infantry. In this battle more men were captured in actual conflict without negotiation than on any other field in America.”
CONFEDERATES DESTROYING THE RAILROAD FROM APPOMATTOX TOWARD LYNCHBURG, AND ARTILLERYMEN DESTROYING GUN-CARRIAGES, AT NIGHTFALL, SATURDAY, APRIL 8. FROM A SKETCH MADE AT THE TIME.
General Grant started from Burkeville early the next morning, the 7th, and took the direct road to Farmville. The columns were crowding the roads, and the men, aroused to still greater efforts by the inspiring news of the day before, were sweeping along, despite the rain that fell, like trained pedestrians on a walking-track. As the general rode among them he was greeted with shouts and hurrahs, on all sides, and a string of sly remarks, which showed how familiar swords and bayonets became when victory furnishes the topic of their talk.
* * *
1 In his “Memoirs” (C. L. Webster & Co.) General Sheridan says that after the troops began to move he received the following letter from General Grant, whereupon he started at once for Grant’s headquarters:
“ ‘HEADQUARTERS, ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES, GRAVELLY RUN, MARCH 30TH, 1865.
“ ‘MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN:
“ ‘The heavy rain of to-day will make it impossible for us to do much until it dries up a little, or we get roads around our rear repaired. You may, therefore, leave what cavalry you deem necessary to protect the left, and hold such positions as you deem necessary for that purpose, and send the remainder back to Humphreys’s Station [on the military railroad], where they can get hay and grain. Fifty wagons loaded with forage will be sent you in the morning. Send an officer back to direct the wagons back to where you want them. Report to me the cavalry you will leave back, and the position you will occupy. Could not your cavalry go back by the way of Stoney Creek depot and destroy or capture the store of supplies there?—U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General.”
—EDITORS.
2 Sheridan’s bands were generally mounted on gray horses, and instead of being relegated to the usual duty of carrying off the wounded and assisting the surgeons, they were brought out to the front and made to play the liveliest airs in their repertory, with great effect on the spirits of the men.—H.P.
CHAPTER 5
THE FALL OF RICHMOND.
I. THE EVACUATION.
Clement Sulivane, Captain, C.S.A.
About 11:30 A.M. on Sunday, April 2d,1 a strange agitation was perceptible on the streets of Richmond, and within half an hour it was known on all sides that Lee’s lines had been broken below Petersburg; that he was in full retreat on Danville; that the troops covering the city at Chaffin’s and Drewry’s Bluffs were on the point of being withdrawn, and that the city was forthwith to be abandoned. A singular security had been felt by the citizens of Richmond, so the news fell like a bomb-shell in a peaceful camp, and dismay reigned supreme.
All that Sabbath day the trains came and went, wagons, vehicles, and horsemen rumbled and dashed to and fro, and, in the evening, ominous groups of ruffians—more or less in liquor—began to make their appearance on the principal thoroughfares of the city. As night came on pillage and rioting and robbing took place. The police and a few soldiers were at hand, and, after the arrest of a few ringleaders and the more riotous of their followers, a fair degree of order was restored. But Richmond saw few sleeping eyes during the pandemonium of that night.
The division of Major-General G.W.C. Lee, of Ewell’s corps, at that time rested in the trenches eight miles below Richmond, with its right on the James River, covering Chaffin’s Bluff. I was at the time its assistant adjutant-general, and was in the city on some detached duty connected with the “Local Brigade” belonging to the division,—a force composed of the soldiers of the army, detailed on account of their mechanical skill to work in the arsenals, etc., and of clerks and other employés of the War, Treasury, Quartermaster, and other departments.
Upon receipt of the news from Petersburg I reported to General Ewell (then in Richmond) for instructions, and was ordered to assemble and command the Local Brigade, cause it to be well supplied with ammunition and provisions, and await further orders. All that day and night I was engaged in this duty, but with small result, as the battalions melted away as fast as they were formed, mainly under orders from the heads of departments who needed all their employés in the transportation and guarding of the archives, etc., but partly, no doubt, from desertions. When morning dawned fewer than 200 men remained, under command of Captain Edward Mayo.
THE RUINS OF RICHMOND BETWEEN THE CANAL BASIN AND CAPITOL SQUARE. FROM A WAR-TIME PHOTOGRAPH.
Shortly before day General Ewell rode in person to my headquarters and informed me that General G.W.C. Lee was then crossing the pontoon at Drewry’s; that he would destroy it and press on to join the main army; that all the bridges over the river had been destroyed, except Mayo’s, between Richmond and Manchester, and that the wagon bridge over the canal in front of Mayo’s had already been burned by Union emissaries. My command was to hasten to Mayo’s bridge and protect it, and the one remaining foot-bridge over the canal leading to it, until General Gary, of South Carolina, should arrive. I hurried to my command, and fifteen minutes later occupied Mayo’s bridge, at the foot of 14th street, and made military dispositions to protect it to the last extremity. This done, I had nothing to do but listen for sounds and gaze on the terrible splendor of the scene. And such a scene probably the world has seldom witnessed. Either incendiaries, or (more probably) fragments of bombs from the arsenals, had fired various buildings, and the two cities, Richmond and Manchester, were like a blaze of day amid the surrounding darkness. Three high arched bridges were in flames; beneath them the waters sparkled and dashed and rushed on by the burning city. Every now and then, as a magazine exploded, a column of white smoke rose up as high as the eye could reach, instantaneously followed by a deafening sound. The earth seemed to rock and tremble as with the shock of an earthquake, and immediately afterward hundreds of shells would explode in air and send their iron spray down far below the bridge. As the immense magazines of cartridges ignited the rattle as of thousands of musketry would follow, and then all was still for the moment, except the dull roar and crackle of the fast-spreading fires. At dawn we heard terrific explosions about “The Rocketts,” from the unfinished iron-clads down the river.
By daylight, on the 3d, a mob of men, women, and children,
to the number of several thousands, had gathered at the corner of 14th and Cary streets and other outlets, in front of the bridge, attracted by the vast commissary depot at that point; for it must be remembered that in 1865 Richmond was a half-starved city, and the Confederate Government had that morning removed its guards and abandoned the removal of the provisions, which was impossible for the want of transportation. The depot doors were forced open and a demoniacal struggle for the countless barrels of hams, bacon, whisky, flour, sugar, coffee, etc., etc., raged about the buildings among the hungry mob. The gutters ran whisky, and it was lapped as it flowed down the streets, while all fought for a share of the plunder. The flames came nearer and nearer, and at last caught in the commissariat itself.
At daylight the approach of the Union forces could be plainly discerned. After a little came the clatter of horses’ hoofs galloping up Main street. My infantry guard stood to arms, the picket across the canal was withdrawn, and the engineer officer lighted a torch of fat pine. By direction of the Engineer Department barrels of tar, surrounded by pine-knots, had been placed at intervals on the bridge, with kerosene at hand, and a lieutenant of engineers had reported for the duty of firing them at my order. The noisy train proved to be Gary’s ambulances, sent forward preparatory to his final rush for the bridge. The muleteers galloped their animals about half-way down, when they were stopped by the dense mass of human beings. Rapidly communicating to Captain Mayo my instructions from General Ewell, I ordered that officer to stand firm at his post until Gary got up. I rode forward into the mob and cleared a lane. The ambulances were galloped down to the bridge, I retired to my post, and the mob closed in after me and resumed its wild struggle for plunder. A few minutes later a long line of cavalry in gray turned into 14th street, and sword in hand galloped straight down to the river; Gary had come. The mob scattered right and left before the armed horsemen, who reined up at the canal. Presently a single company of cavalry appeared in sight, and rode at headlong speed to the bridge. “My rear-guard,” explained Gary. Touching his hat to me he called out, “All over, good-bye; blow her to h—ll,” and trotted over the bridge. That was the first and last I ever saw of General Gary, of South Carolina.
In less than sixty seconds Captain Mayo was in column of march, and as he reached the little island about half-way across the bridge, the single piece of artillery, loaded with grape-shot, that had occupied that spot, arrived on the Manchester side of the river. The engineer officer, Dr. Lyons, and I walked leisurely to the island, setting fire to the provided combustible matter as we passed along, and leaving the north section of Mayo’s bridge wrapped in flame and smoke. At the island we stopped to take a view of the situation north of the river, and saw a line of blue-coated horsemen galloping in furious haste up Main street. Across 14th street they stopped, and then dashed down 14th street to the flaming bridge. They fired a few random shots at us three on the island, and we retreated to Manchester. I ordered my command forward, the lieutenant of engineers saluted and went about his business, and myself and my companion sat on our horses for nearly a half-hour, watching the occupation of Richmond. We saw another string of horsemen in blue pass up Main street, then we saw a dense column of infantry march by, seemingly without end; we heard the very welkin ring with cheers as the United States forces reached Capitol Square, and then we turned and slowly rode on our way.
II. THE OCCUPATION.
Thomas Thatcher Graves, Aide-de-Camp on the Staff of Gen. Weitzel.
In the spring of 1865 the total length of the lines of the Army of the James before Richmond (under General Godfrey Weitzel, commanding the Twenty-fifth Corps) was about eleven miles, not counting the cavalry front, and extended from the Appomattox River to the north side of the James. The Varina and New Market turnpikes passed directly through the lines into the city, which was the center of all our efforts.
About 2 o’clock on the morning of April 3d bright fires were seen in the direction of Richmond. Shortly after, while we were looking at these fires, we heard explosions, and soon a prisoner was sent in by General Kautz. The prisoner was a colored teamster, and he informed us that immediately after dark the enemy had begun making preparations to leave, and that they were sending all of the teams to the rear. A forward movement of our entire picket-line corroborated this report. As soon as it was light General Weitzel ordered Colonel E. E. Graves, senior aide-de-camp, and Major Atherton H. Stevens, Jr., provost-marshal, to take a detachment of forty men from the two companies (E and H) of the 4th Massachusetts Cavalry, and make a reconnoissance. Slowly this little band of scouts picked their way in. Soon after we moved up the New Market road at a slow pace.
As we approached the inner line of defenses we saw in the distance divisions of our troops, many of them upon the double-quick, aiming to be the first in the city; a white and a colored division were having a regular race, the white troops on the turnpike and the colored in the fields. As we neared the city the fires seemed to increase in number and size, and at intervals loud explosions were heard.
On entering we found Capitol Square covered with people who had fled there to escape the fire and were utterly worn out with fatigue and fright. Details were at once made to scour the city and press into service every able-bodied man, white or black, and make them assist in extinguishing the flames. General Devens’s division marched into the city, stacked arms, and went to work. Parsons’s engineer company assisted by blowing up houses to check its advance, as about every engine was destroyed or rendered useless by the mob. In this manner the fire was extinguished and perfect order restored in an incredibly short time after we occupied the city.2 There was absolutely no plundering upon the part of our soldiers; orders were issued forbidding anything to be taken without remuneration, and no complaints were made of infringement of these orders. General G. F. Shepley was placed on duty as military governor. He had occupied a similar position in New Orleans after its capture in 1862, and was eminently fitted for it by education and experience. As we entered the suburbs the general ordered me to take half a dozen cavalrymen and go to Libby Prison, for our thoughts were upon the wretched men whom we supposed were still confined within its walls. It was very early in the morning, and we were the first Union troops to arrive before Libby. Not a guard, not an inmate remained; the doors were wide open, and only a few negroes greeted us with, “Dey’s all gone, massa!”
The next day after our entry into the city, on passing out from Clay street, from Jefferson Davis’s house, I saw a crowd coming, headed by President Lincoln, who was walking with his usual long, careless stride, and looking about with an interested air and taking in everything. Upon my saluting he said: “Is it far to President Davis’s house?” I accompanied him to the house, which was occupied by General Weitzel as headquarters. The President had arrived about 9 o’clock, at the landing called Rocketts, upon Admiral Porter’s flag-ship, the Malvern, and as soon as the boat was made fast, without ceremony, he walked on shore, and started off uptown. As soon as Admiral Porter was informed of it he ordered a guard of marines to follow as escort; but in the walk of about two miles they never saw him, and he was directed by negroes. At the Davis house, he was shown into the reception-room, with the remark that the housekeeper had said that that room was President Davis’s office. As he seated himself he remarked, “This must have been President Davis’s chair,” and, crossing his legs, he looked far off with a serious, dreamy expression. At length he asked me if the housekeeper was in the house. Upon learning that she had left he jumped up and said, with a boyish manner, “Come, let’s look at the house!” We went pretty much over it; I retailed all that the housekeeper had told me, and he seemed interested in everything. As we came down the staircase General Weitzel came, in breathless haste, and at once President Lincoln’s face lost its boyish expression as he realized that duty must be resumed. Soon afterward Judge Campbell, General Anderson (Confederates), and others called and asked for an interview with the President. It was granted, and took place in the parlor with closed do
ors.
CITIZENS OF RICHMOND IN CAPITOL SQUARE DURING THE CONFLAGRATION.
I accompanied President Lincoln and General Weitzel to Libby Prison and Castle Thunder, and heard General Weitzel ask President Lincoln what he (General Weitzel) should do in regard to the conquered people. President Lincoln replied that he did not wish to give any orders on that subject, but, as he expressed it, “If I were in your place I’d let ’em up easy, let ’em up easy.”
A few days after our entry General R. E. Lee surrendered, and early one morning we learned that he had just arrived at his house in the city. General Weitzel called me into a private room, and, taking out a large, well-filled pocket-book, said, “Go to General Lee’s house, find Fitzhugh Lee, and say that his old West Point chum Godfrey Weitzel wishes to know if he needs anything, and urge him to take what he may need from that pocket-book.” Upon reaching General Lee’s house I knocked, and General Fitzhugh Lee came to the door. He was dressed in a Confederate uniform. Upon introducing myself he asked me in, showing me into a parlor with double or folding doors, explaining that the servants had not returned. He was so overcome by Weitzel’s message that for a moment he was obliged to walk to the other end of the room. He excused himself, and passed into the inner room, where I noticed General R. E. Lee sitting, with a tired, worn expression upon his face. Fitzhugh Lee knelt beside his general, as he sat leaning over, and placed a hand upon his knee.
PRESIDENT LINCOLN LEAVING THE DAVIS MANSION. FROM A SKETCH MADE AT THE TIME.
Hearts Touched by Fire Page 145