Part 8 (1/2)
It was a singular incident, that these two should meet again so! The meeting was most cordial; the Federal was delighted to get his watch again, made doubly valuable by so strange a history.
While this b.l.o.o.d.y episode was enacting by the Mississippi Brigade, in the woods to our right, an almost exactly similar scene was going on, in the woods to our left. A portion of Kershaw's South Carolina Brigade was unwittingly stumbled upon by ”Griffin's” Division in the pines. Another complete ambuscade! The South Carolinians suddenly sprang up before the Federals, let them have it, broke and routed them, and killed, and wounded eighty-seven of them. Our loss was one man. Things were so sudden, so close here, that one of Kershaw's men killed a Federal soldier, and wounded another with an axe he happened to have in his hand.
These first efforts of ”Warren's” Corps that had gotten up near the Spottsylvania line, ”just in time to be too late,” are thus described by Swinton, the admirable historian of the ”Army of the Potomac.”
(Swinton's ”Army of the Potomac,” p. 443):
”Finally,” he says, ”the column (Warren's) emerged from the woods into a clearing, two miles north of Spottsylvania Court House. Forming in line, Robinson's Division advanced over the plain. Thus far, only Stuart's dismounted troops had been encountered, and no other opposition was antic.i.p.ated; but when half way across the field, and on the point of rising the crest, the troops were met by a savage musketry fire from infantry. Owing to their severe experience in the Wilderness, and the night march, without rest, the men were in an excited, and almost frightened, condition, and the tendency to _stampede_ was so great that General Warren had been compelled to go in front of the leading Brigade.
When, therefore, they received a fire in front, from the redoubtable foe they had left in the Wilderness, the line wavered, and fell back in some confusion. General Robinson was at the same time severely wounded, which left the troops without their commander at a critical moment, and they were with some difficulty rallied and reformed in the woods back of the open plain. Griffin's Division, which advanced on the right of Robinson, soon afterward received the same fire with a like result.”
It seems then, that it was Robinson's Division that the little Mississippi Brigade sent to the right about, and it was Griffin's Division, who scared themselves nearly into fits, by flus.h.i.+ng Kershaw's ”rice-birds,” in the pines. It was a little hard on these ”excited and almost frightened” men of Warren's. The memory of the fearful shaking up they had got, day before yesterday, was so fresh in their minds that ”General Warren himself, the _Corps Commander_, had to go in front of the leading Brigade” to quiet their nerves, even when they thought they were advancing upon a few dismounted troops. They thought,--a little comfort in this,--that, at least, all those terrible fellows of the Army of Northern Virginia were far behind them. And--to meet them _here_, still, in front! It must be confessed it was hard! It was a very sad surprise.
It is said that General Grant's strained relations with General Warren came of Warren's conduct of this move, to seize the Spottsylvania line.
He found great fault with his failure. But, perhaps he was a little hard on Warren. What could Warren do? His men were demoralized, ”excited, almost frightened, tending to stampede, needing the Corps General to go in front,” and stopping to dine, instead of pus.h.i.+ng on to seize the line. They had to meet men who were not _particularly excited_, were not _at all frightened_ and had not _the least tendency to stampede_; in fact, were in the best of spirits, perfectly confident of victory, and did not need _a corporal to go in front of them_, gaunt, hungry, cool fellows, who never counted noses--in a fight!
It was too much to expect Warren, with men like his, to go anywhere, or take anything, when men like these others were in the way. Grant was too hard on Warren! If it took a _Corps Commander_, going in front, to encourage them along to advance upon _a few troopers_. I hardly think that Generals Grant and Meade, and President Lincoln, and Secretary Stanton, _all together_,--going in front, could have got them up, _if they had known who was actually ahead_.
However that may be, the object of our rapid all-night march, and of our venturesome stand, out here, in front of the Spottsylvania line, was accomplished! The stir up we gave them with that long artillery fire, and the savage and b.l.o.o.d.y repulses of two of their divisions made them more nervous than they were before. They spent some time considering who it could be in their front, and considering what to do. Later on, two more Divisions advanced, and our two Brigades and our guns retired.
Our work was done! While we had been out in front amusing the enemy, and keeping them easy, the Brigades of Longstreet's Corps had been rapidly coming up, and taking position on the all-important line. We now had a _sure enough line of battle_ holding it. And night was falling; the enemy out in front had stopped, and gone to intrenching, instead of pus.h.i.+ng on. We knew that during that night our people, Ewell and Hill, would be up. All were safe! We slept the sleep of the weary. So ended the 8th of May. It was a pretty full day for us!
I don't remember anything at all about the early morning of the next day, the 9th. We were dreadfully tired, and I suppose we slept late, and then lounged about, with nothing to do, yet, in a listless, stupid state. Everything was quiet around us, and nothing to attract attention, or fix it in mind. About mid-day, I recollect noticing bodies of troops, a regiment, a brigade, or two, moving about, here and there, in various directions. We heard that Ewell's and Hill's Corps had come up, and these troops we saw, were taking their way leisurely, along, to the various position on the line of battle.
In the afternoon, about four or five o'clock, our guns, the ”Napoleon”
Section, moved off to take our destined position on the line. We followed a farm road, off toward the left, and presently came down into quite a decided hollow, through which ran a little stream of water.
Here we halted! The ground before us rose into a low short hill. Along the ridge of that hill ran the proposed line of battle, and there was the position for which we were making. There was quite a lively picket fire going on, in different directions, and right over the hill, behind which we were, an occasional sh.e.l.l could be heard screeching about, here and there. Several pa.s.sed over us, high above our heads, and away to the rear. Federal Artillery lazily feeling about to provoke a reply, and find out where somebody was. They felt lonesome, perhaps! It was a calm, sweet sunlit May evening.
=Feeling Pulses=
In order not to expose us longer than necessary to this fire of the pickets, Lieutenant Anderson, commanding this ”Section,” went up on the hill, to select _exact_ position for the guns, so that they might be promptly placed, when we went up. While he was up there reconnoitering, we lay down on the ground, and waited, and talked. The bullets dropped over, near, and among us, now and then, and we knew, that the moment we went up a few steps, on the hill, we would be a mark for sharp-shooters, a particularly unpleasant situation for artillery. But we tried to forget all this, and be as happy and _seem_ as careless as we could. And we would have gotten along very well if let alone. But, there was a dreadful, dirty, snuffy, spectacled old Irishman, named Robert Close, a driver, who took this interval to amuse himself. He would ask us ”how we felt,” and he came around to most of us, young fellows, and asked us to let him feel our pulse, and see if we were at all excited, or scared; and he would put his hand on our hearts, to see if they were beating regularly enough. And he would call out the result of his investigation in each case,--the other fellows all sitting around, and eagerly waiting his report. n.o.body can tell what a dreadful trial this simple thing was!
When just going under fire--and indeed _already_ under some fire--to have your heart and your pulse felt, and reported on to a waiting crowd of comrades! But, all of us youngsters had to undergo it! That cruel, old scoundrel went round to every one of the youngsters. It was an unspeakable humiliation for a _cannoneer_ to be thus fingered by _a driver_, but what could we do? Not a thing!
We would _have liked_ to knock the old rascal's head off, but, not one of us would have dared to object to that pulse feeling, and we in turn meekly held out our wrists, and _tried_ to look happy and amused--and made a dismal failure of it. Old Close was as brave, himself, as a lion.
_He_ had as soon go in a fight as not; a little sooner! When b.a.l.l.s swarmed around, he didn't care a bit. He was in a position to do this thing. But it was suffering to us. Each man waited, with anxious heart, for his turn to come, for old Close to ”pa.s.s upon his condition.” Those whom he approved, were pleased to death, and those whom he didn't, hated him from that time.
I honestly believe that old Irishman gave me the worst scare I had in that campaign, and I am sure that a compliment, on the field, from General Longstreet himself, would not have pleased me more, than that snuffy old fellow's verdict, after feeling my pulse that I ”would do all right.” It was quite a curious scene altogether!
=Where the Fight Was Hottest=
In a few minutes Lieutenant Anderson came down and ordered us forward.
He told us ”the sharp-shooters were making it a little warm” up there.
When the guns got to the top of the rise, they must go at a trot to their positions, the sooner to get the horses from under fire. Twenty or thirty steps brought us to the top of the sharp little ascent. Here we found a few of our sharp-shooters exchanging compliments with the enemy, and the b.a.l.l.s were knocking up the dirt, and whistling around. I was interested in watching one of our fellows. He was squatting down, holding his rifle ready. A Federal sharp-shooter, whom we could not see, was cracking at him. Three times a ball struck right by him, and came whizzing by us. He kept still, and patiently bided his time. Suddenly, he threw up his rifle and fired, and then exclaimed ”Well! I got _you_ anyhow.” The b.a.l.l.s stopped coming. This man said that the concealed Federal sharp-shooter had been shooting at him for some time and he had been waiting for him. At last, catching sight of a head rising from behind a bush, he got his chance, as we saw, and dropped his man. Our guns were placed in their position, selected for them on the line, and the horses sent back to the rear.
Our position here was right on the infantry line of battle. That is, on that line the infantry afterwards took. For when we got on the spot, there was no infantry there,--nothing except the sharp-shooters, already referred to. The line was traced by a continuous pile of dirt thrown up, I don't know by whom, before we got on the ground. I suppose the engineers had it done as a guide to the troops, in taking position.
The position our guns now took, grew to be very familiar ground to us, and remains very memorable. On this spot we stayed, and fought our part in the Spottsylvania battles. On this spot we saw many b.l.o.o.d.y sights, and witnessed many heroic scenes, and had many thrilling experiences.
The incidents of those days spent there, in nearly all their details, are indelibly impressed on my memory, and are as fresh as if they happened yesterday.
We stood on a low ridge which rose gradually to the right. To the left, after running level for fifty yards, the ground fell rapidly away, until it sank down into the valley of a little brook, one hundred and fifty yards from us. Off to the left, in front, stretched a large body of woods. To the right, in front, stood a body of thick pines coming up to within two or three hundred yards of us, its edge running along to the right about that distance parallel with our line. Directly in front of us, the ground,--cleared fields about three or four hundred yards wide,--sloped gently away down to a stream, and beyond, sloped gently upward to the top of the hill, on which stood a farmhouse, and buildings. That hill was considerably higher than our position, and commanded it. That hill-top was about one-half to three-quarters of a mile from us.