Thomas Jefferson | Claiming Independence | Biography

On the morning of Sunday, May 31st, 1862, Longstreet's men rise from their camps, bivouacked at the Fairfield Racecourse on the northeastern edge of Richmond, or scattered farther east along the Nine Mile Road. They are within easy reach of the jumping off position Johnston intends, but for some reason, Longstreet doesn't follow Johnston's plan. Instead of taking the Nine Mile Road towards Seven Pines, Longstreet orders his division to march west, then turn south towards the Williamsburg Stage Road. Longstreet tells no one of his decision to take the Williamsburg Stage Road, and his seemingly casual decision scrambles Johnston's carefully laid plans. Brigadier General Whiting, trying his best to follow orders, finds the Nine Mile Road clogged by Longstreet's men but is unable to locate any of the senior officers. When Whiting writes to warn Johnston that the road is blocked, the commander sends back a note merely saying that Longstreet will precede him. Going to Johnston's headquarters in person, Whiting finds that no one knows what is happening. Everyone assumes that Longstreet is well down the Nine Mile Road, and Johnston is surprised when a staff officer is unable to find him anywhere on that road. In fact, a stream called Gilsa's Creek, overflown from the previous night's rains, has blocked Longstreet's march to the Williamsburg Stage Road. To avoid a long detour, his men dive a wagon into the creek and use it to support a makeshift bridge. Oogie arrives on his way to the Charles City Road to open the battle and is forced to halt while thousands of Longstreet's men trod single file across a little bridge ahead of him. Oogie is stuck near Richmond until 1030 AM, long after he is supposed to be facing the Union left flank. Because of Johnston's vague and partial orders, it isn't clear to the other officers that by delaying Oogie, they are delaying the start of the entire operation. Meanwhile, the already worn-out men of Casey's Third Division are drenched once again. A horrendous rainstorm the night before has flooded trenches and campsites around the five-cornered earthwork fortification known as Casey's Redoubt. One soldier remembered that the unfinished rifle pits were filled, and every depression in the roads and elsewhere had become tiny lakes. Although his troops are hungry and miserable, Casey wisely puts them back to work. All is quiet on the picket line until about 9 AM, when one of General Johnston's staff officers accidentally rides into some pickets from the 100th New York. Although the snared Southerner refuses to cooperate during his interrogation, Casey surmises that something big is up and notifies his superior, Brigadier General Keyes, of his concerns. Casey's fears are soon realized when Captain Simon Townsend of the 85th Pennsylvania, also manning the picket line in Brigadier General Henry W. Wessel's 2nd Brigade Sector, notices considerable Confederate activity to his front. Casey at once orders the 103rd Pennsylvania, under temporary command of Major Ollie W. Gassam, in the absence of the regiment's sick commander, Colonel Theo F. Lehman, to reinforce the pickets astride the Williamsburg Stage Road, where their own company stays deployed. While Major Gassam collects his disparate command, DHL launches his attack with Brigadier General Samuel Garland's Brigade. The 300-man 2nd Mississippi Infantry Battalion leads the advance of Garland's Brigade as skirmishers, loosing a volley against the tired Federal pickets. After they advance only several hundred yards, the 103rd Pennsylvania's Company C opens fire with a concentrated volley. Outnumbered four to one, the Keystoners quickly yield to the advancing Rebels and retreat fifty yards through the rest of their regiment. For a few key minutes, which gives the rest of the 3rd Division at least some time to gather its forces, the 450 or so men from the 103rd Pennsylvania duel with 2,000 Southerners. The Confederates' Cascade forward, and Captain Reynolds Laughlin, on the far right of Gassam's line leading Company A, notices that the regiment is being flanked. He calls for his men to fall back as quickly as possible. The tangled undergrowth prevents the 103rd Pennsylvania from falling back in any kind of order. To make matters even worse for the Pennsylvanians, Casey orders his artillery to shell the woods through which they are retreating. Pushed beyond the breaking point, the 103rd Pennsylvania flees. A tree limb hits Major Gassam in the face, knocking him from his mount while he is frantically trying to reassemble his men. If not for the courage and dedication of some of his men who quickly pull him to safety, Gassam, a former attorney from Pittsburgh, would surely have been snagged as a prisoner. With the 103rd Pennsylvania and the rest of Casey's picket lines smashed, Garland's brigade begins to negotiate the abatis. This buys time for Brigadier General Casey to personally lead parts of six regiments from Nagley's and Palmer's 1st and 3rd Brigades, reinforced by Captain Joseph Spratt's Battery H, 1st New York Light Artillery, forward into line about two hundred yards behind the abatis. There, the desperate Federals duel with Garland's winded brigade, bringing it to a standstill. At this juncture, with most of Casey's division engaged in front, Ugee's and Whiting's divisions should have been falling on the Federal flanks and Longstreet's troops ready to reinforce Hill's. But because of jealousy, ineptitude, and a general lack of coordination, all the follow-up divisions are still bundled up in the rear. As Sam Garland's brigade exchanges volleys with Casey's second line, D.H. Hill's right wing, the brigades of Brigadier Generals Robert Rhoades and Gabriel Raines hurry forward after their advance had been delayed. Rhoades' troops exit the woods on the south side of the Williamsburg Stage Road and enter the fray. Hill detaches Raines' troops, ordering them to advance around Casey's left flank and take his works from behind. Colonel George B. Anderson's brigade, meanwhile, is working around the northern edge of the field and the Union right. In all, 6,500 Confederates would be sent against 3,500 Federals. Raines arrives on the scene to confront the left face of the redoubt. General Hill personally leads Captain Thomas H. Carter's Virginia Battery, the King William Artillery, and finds the Virginians a good field of fire against the enemy earthwork. South of the fort, the tall trees edging White Oak Swamp offer ideal firing positions for Confederate sharpshooters. Most of the gunners and two-fifths of Casey's troops are hit. Casey directs a general withdrawal to the redoubt and its adjoining trenches, but Battery H needs time to move its guns to the rear, and the Confederates are coming fast. The division commander therefore orders Brigadier General Nagley to have three regiments of his 1st Brigade on the north side of Nine Mile Road, the 104th Pennsylvania, the 11th Maine, and the 100th New York charge and buy time for Battery H. The spoiling attack, one of the first committed by Federal forces in the war, freezes the Confederate advance. General Casey later recalled, "...I never saw a hamster thing in my life than that charge was." While D. H. Hill waits for his troops to deploy, Casey patches his line together as best he can. He also sends back another frantic request to Brigadier General Keyes to send up the three brigades from Couch's 1st Division to help solidify his line. Keyes is in fact sending forward reinforcements, but he does so piecemeal, and curiously he does not communicate with either Casey or Couch. As a result, the few regiments that do come to Casey's aid are too little and too late. In front of Hill's Confederates stand the remains of the smallest division of the Army of the Potomac. The keystone of their final line is Casey's redoubt, manned by six 12-pounder Napoleons from Lieutenant George P. Hart's Battery A, 1st New York Ladd Artillery. However, Casey's remaining batteries, the 7th and 8th New York Independent Batteries under Captains Peter C. Reagan and Butler Fitch, respectively, are poorly deployed. Colonel Guilford D. Bailey, commanding the artillery of the division, has ineptly positioned the 8th New York Independent Battery behind Battery A. With no clear targets, he situates the 7th New York on the far right of the line, behind infantrymen who present an obstacle and give the gunners a poor field of fire. Knowing that his men cannot withstand the fire, Lieutenant Colonel Brian Grimes of the 4th North Carolina and Anderson's Brigade orders his regiment to charge with fixed bayonets. The subsequent attack, which pierces the 85th Pennsylvania's line, is, according to one veteran of the battle, like an avalanche. Colonel Bailey, seeing the conflagration developing on his right, orders the guns in the redoubt spiked. As he moves forward to help a gunner perform the task, he is shot dead. The cannons from the 8th New York open up, and one shell bursts prematurely over the heads of the 85th New York, killing or wounding several. This only hastens their decision to retreat. Meanwhile, events are transpiring at the Confederate headquarters. Although General Johnston is only two miles from the developing battle, a peculiar atmospheric condition known as an acoustic shadow muffles the sound of cannon and musket fire. Adding to the confusion, his staff has failed to keep Johnston informed of conditions on the battlefront. In fairness, the belts of thick woods and deep pools of mud and water keep the Ades from gathering and relaying intelligence in a timely manner. Johnston knows only that Longstreet has taken the wrong road several hours ago, and that his whole plan has fallen apart. I wish all the troops were back in camp, Johnston grumbles. General Johnston's old West Point classmate, General Robert E. Lee, joins him at his headquarters. During the afternoon, they hear a din echo that sounds like cannon fire. Lee thinks he hears a hint of musketry as well, but Johnston concludes that it is merely an exchange of cannon fire. About 4 PM, the wind shifts enough to allow the cacophonous sounds of battle to reach Johnston. At the same time, a courier arrives with a request from Longstreet for reinforcements. It is the first clear report the Confederate commander has received that day. Johnston leaves his headquarters and personally leads Whiting's division down the Nine Mile Road towards the fighting. Just as Johnston leaves, Confederate President Jefferson Davis arrives in horseback to monitor the progress of the battle. More than one officer believes that Johnston has seen Davis approaching and had left hurriedly to avoid talking to him. By 3.30 PM, sheer pandemonium has enveloped Casey's faltering line. With roads and rains pressing in from two directions, Casey's troops crumble. D. H. Hill's victorious Confederates are swarming in from three directions. Carter's Virginia Battery is brought forward to rake the redoubt with canister and shot, and what is left of Casey's Third Division is running to the rear for their very lives. Despite Casey's desperate attempt to rally them, one officer remembered seeing the General raging among his retreating men, hatless, his white hair streaming in the wind. Another veteran of the battle wrote, Old Casey was as brave as a lion, and remained while his men would stand. He lost everything but the clothes he stood in. Eight of Casey's guns are abandoned to the Rebels. The attackers cut through the abandoned Union camps and charge over a clearing in front of the Second Union line of works 150 yards behind Casey's redoubt. The line of abatis at Seven Pines is more strongly held than Key's original line. At this point, Key's and two regiments from Crouch's First Division finally arrive on the field. Casey's scattered troops join Crouch's First Division, which is already moving into place on the new line of defense. Shocked by the carnage and mayhem, the Fourth Corps commander quickly orders all his forces to fall back to Seven Pines and awaits the arrival of Heintzelman's Two Divisions and Third Corps. On the Confederate right, Reign's regiments slow down on the edge of White Oak Swamp, leaving Rhodes' men to take most of the heavy defensive fire. Wounded in the arm, Rhodes stays in the saddle and continues to lead his troops. They are under heavy fire in the clearing in front of the abatis when more Union troops from Kearney's Third Division of Third Corps appear in the woods to their right. Rhodes has to shift some of his men to the right to meet the new threat. Ahead of Rhodes' brigade, Colonel John B. Gordon and the 6th Alabama push deep into the Union lines. Gordon's Lieutenant Colonel, Adjutant, and Major are killed. Half the company officers and many of the rank-and-file also fall dead or wounded. Gordon is conspicuous on his horse, and some of his men hear the enemy shouting, Shoot that man on horseback! Bullets tear through the Colonel's uniform and strike his canteen, but never touch him. Among the wounded, Colonel Gordon glimpses his 19-year-old brother, Captain Augustus Gordon, lying amid a scattering of dead men. The younger Gordon was shot through the lungs. Asserting that his brother is still alive, if bleeding heavily, Gordon presses on. Only after the battle does he learn that his brother will recover. His force is trapped under heavy fire on ground so saturated with rain that many men are up to their hips in water. First aid details rush about the field, propping wounded men against trees and stumps so they will not drown before they can be taken away for medical aid. It is not until later that evening that reinforcements finally arrive down the Nine Mile Road in the form of Whiting's and Longstreet's divisions. By now, D. H. Hill appeals for help, and Longstreet sends forward Colonel James Kemper's brigade to relieve Gordon's troops. Kemper's men meet streams of wounded comrades flowing back from the Whiting. They push through Casey's abandoned camp, but come under heavy fire from the abatis to their front. Adding to the fearsome roar of the guns and screams of the wounded is the sounds of bullets ripping through the canvas of the tents. A Union soldier visiting the scene after the battle counted more than two hundred bullet holes in a single Sibley tent in camp. Kemper's men pull back to take cover in the captured Union earthworks on the other side of the Eventually, orders come for the Alabamians to pull back. They give ground slowly, bringing back as many of the wounded as they can. When Gordon rejoins his brigade, he learns that Rode's wounds have forced the General to relinquish command to him. Gordon's regiment that day loses ninety-one men killed, two hundred and seventy-seven wounded, and five missing. The three hundred and seventy-three casualties include fifty-nine percent of the Sixth Alabama, a grim record at this time in war for the heaviest loss by a single Confederate regiment. Across the Williamsburg Stage Road, the brigades of Garland and Anderson hit the Union center. After leaving the Williamsburg Stage Road and advancing to the northeast, Anderson detaches Colonel Micah Jenkins and two regiments. Jenkins pushes through the Union lines near the left end of the abatis, cutting off Couch and part of his force, which retreats towards Fair Oaks. Carney has to shift around from the Union left to deal with Jenkins. Johnson reaches Fair Oaks by coming down the Nine Mile Road at 5 PM. He plans to send Whiting's division to drive the enemy out of Seven Pines and secure a major victory. Suddenly, several Union cannons boom on their left. It is Couch's artillery, cut off from Seven Pines. Couch is leading his force back towards the Chickahominy when he sees Whiting's troops in the distance, forms a line of battle, and orders his guns to open fire. Whiting's troops are repulsed twice by Couch's guns. They surge forward again as the Union gunners run out of canister. The artillerymen keep firing with explosive shells, the fuses cut down so short that they burst almost instantly after leaving the muzzles. Major General Hill again orders his men to press their advantage. Just after 5 PM, they succeed in driving what is left of Keyes' IV Corps and part of Hatchelman's III Corps and the elements of Sumner's arriving II Corps out of Seven Pines. Although Johnson's headquarters is an air pocket that muffles the sounds of battle, McClellan back at Gaines Mill can clearly hear the increasing volume of fire. He alerts Brigadier General Edwin Sumner and his II Corps to be ready to march. Sumner wastes no time. When a final order arrives at 2.30 PM to cross the river, Sumner already has his Corps at the edge of the flooded stream. The Schurz Crossing's Bottoms Bridge and the Richmond and York River Railroad Bridge are too far in the Union rear to allow the Corps to cross in time. Sumner has his choice of two recently built makeshift spans. One brigade makes it across one of the bridges, but the planks are so deep underwater that the soldiers are practically wading across. The bridge collapses soon afterward. The loss of the first bridge leaves only Grapevine Bridge, which strains and twists against the flood currents. Colonel Barton Alexander of the Corps of Engineers looks on with concern as water washes over the floor planks of the wobbly bridge. The rough logs of the corridor approaches to the bridge are mostly afloat, tenuously held together by tree stumps and grapevines wrapped around the bridge timbers. Sumner is not a man to fret over a nervous engineer's forebodings. Born in Boston in 1797, he has seen extensive service on the frontier and in the Mexican War. At the Battle of Cerro Gordo in 1847, a spent musket ball struck him on the head and bounced off. From then on, he was known in the Army as Bullhead Sumner. Coincidentally, one of Sumner's daughters was married to Colonel Armistead Lindsay Long, a fellow antebellum officer who was serving as an aide to Robert E. Lee. Sumner's soldiers slosh along their approaches, waist-deep in water, to the crossing. As the First Men step onto the split-log flooring, grapevine bridge sways to and fro. To the surprise of the skeptical Alexander and the relief of the soldiers using it, the bridge holds. Once across, soldiers of the 1st Minnesota watch 1st Lieutenant Edmund Kirby's Battery I 1st U.S. Artillery roll onto the bridge, the drivers lashing their horses. Oddly, the weight of the soldiers' horses and equipment on the planks has the effect of pressing them tightly against the supports, stabilizing the flooring. By 5 PM, Sumner's lead division, the 2nd Division under Brigadier General John Sedgwick, has joined couch. The 8,000 men secure the position and set up a second defensive line at a right angle to the 1st. Johnson is unaware of the new arrivals and thinks there is only a small force of Federals remaining in the way. Whiting's men vividly charge across an open meadow that is immediately swept by almost a dozen Union cannons. Kirby's guns hammer the attackers, the force of the blast pressing the gun carriages nearly to their hubs in the soft ground. More and more Confederates pour into the fighting at Fair Oaks. Couch's and Sedgwick's men inflict heavy losses on the Confederates, who are entangled in marshy ground. Brigadier General Robert Haddon is killed by a bullet to the head. Another brigade commander, J. Johnston Pettigrew, is shot twice, bayoneted, and captured. A third brigadier, Wade Hampton, is shot in the foot. Hampton refuses to get off his horse, choosing to stay in the saddle while Surgeon E.S. Gaylord finishes extracting the musket ball from his foot. A few minutes after finishing the operation, Gaylord is hit in the right arm by a bullet, a wound that will cost the Surgeon his arm. It is now clear to Johnston that the troops he had intended to throw into the fighting at Seven Pines need to remain at Fair Oaks. Pushing the enemy out of the way would be impossible before sunset. Johnston orders his regiments to stay where they are during the night. About seven PM, a mini-ball strikes Johnston in the right shoulder while he is inspecting the lines. A few moments later, a shell explodes and drives a fragment into his chest. The bullet wound is not serious, but the shell fragment injures a lung and cracks a couple of Johnston's ribs. The stricken commander is being placed in an ambulance when Davis and Lee arrive on the scene. Davis asks Johnston if there is anything he can do for him. Somewhere between the spot where he was wounded and the ambulance, Johnston says he has lost his sword, a treasured family heirloom that his father had carried during the Revolution. Davis would not permit the ambulance driver to leave until the sword was found and returned to the General's side. During the night, the woods are alive with soldiers of both armies searching for dead or wounded comrades. Soldiers sleep wherever they can while rain drizzles down on them. Lieutenant William M. Wood of the 19th Virginia, like many Confederates, finds himself forced to camp in standing water. I broke off small pines and piled them up, wrote Wood, until I had a superb bed in the midst of muck and mud. Very few found a place on which to build a fire large enough to set a tin cup in which to make coffee. At Fair Oaks, Brigadier General William H. French is awakened at 2 AM on June 1st by Colonel Edward E. Cross of the 5th New Hampshire. Cross tells the General that in all the disorganization after the battle ended, three Confederate regiments have unwittingly bedded down in the woods only 100 yards from the right flank of French's division. French quietly shifts his regiments to face the enemy. He doesn't want to risk a night attack, but his men capture a few stray soldiers in a courier. By the time the sun rises the next morning, the rest of the Confederates are gone. Many Federals work all night on their fortifications. Captain George W. Hazard works through the dark hours trying to bring more guns to the front for Brigadier General Israel Richardson's 1st Division of 2nd Corps. The guns of Sedgwick's 2nd Division, passing first, had cut up every spot by which artillery could move without first constructing corduroys, Hazard complains. Less a grapevine bridge, Hazard finds 200 yards of water, 18 inches deep. Adding to his problems, the corduroy was floating on the surface of the water, and two ambulances had been abandoned in the roadway. Late in the night, an infantry lieutenant arrives with a 44-man work detail, but without either lamps or tools, they are no help. Hazard manages to get a new corduroy road built, and three batteries are dragged out of the swamp to Richardson's front by 4.30 AM. Major General Gustavus W. Smith replaces the wounded Johnston as leader of the Department of Northern Virginia that morning. Suddenly confronted with the burden of command, Smith is nearly paralyzed with anxiety and indecision. Thinking, or hoping, that the enemy has been driven back from Seven Pines, Smith decides to press the attack another day. He wants Longstreet to remove his forces from the Confederate right and center and cross behind the battlefield to attack Fair Oaks. Such a complicated maneuver, Longstreet warns, is impossible to make efficiently through the swampy woods and brush at night, and it would leave the new Confederate right vulnerable. Instead of a full attack, Longstreet orders D.H. Hill to make a limited advance against the enemy lines at Fair Oaks. At 6.30 AM on June 1st, the brigades of Brigadier Generals William Mahone and Louis Armistead hit French's Federals along the railroad tracks at Fair Oaks. As the fighting spreads, more units are fed into the clash. Union Brigadier General Oliver O. Howard loses his right arm during the heavy fighting. In a more comical interlude, French falls headfirst into a deep mud puddle. Angry and sputtering, the General is fished out amid the exploding shells and shrieking bullets. Although confined to a relatively small section of the field, the fighting is heavy and intense. Greatly aiding the Union troops are the guns that had so laboriously been pulled through the swamps during the night. The Confederate attacks, launched without overall planning or coordination, are easily repulsed. By early afternoon, it is apparent to the Confederate commanders that the half-hearted offensive operations are a tragic waste of lives. At dawn on June 2nd, the Confederates pull back from the battlefield to their old lines outside of Richmond. Struggling on the boggy ground and without adequate bridges to bring reinforcements across the Chickahominy, McClellan is unable to unite his army to inflict a decisive final blow against the retreating army. The Battle of Seven Pines, also known by Northerners who fought there as the Battle of Fair Oaks since that was where they saw the most success, is over. At the time it is fought, the Battle of Seven Pines or Fair Oaks is the largest and bloodiest engagement in the war's Eastern Theater. Union casualties for the two-day battle total at 5,031 men, including 790 killed, 3,594 wounded, and 647 captured or missing. The Confederates have lost 980 men killed, 4,749 men wounded, and 405 captured or missing, totaling 6,134 losses for the Confederacy. After the battle, Major General McClellan inspects a blood-soaked field and writes to his wife, I am tired of the sickening sight of the battlefield, with its mangled corpses and poor suffering wounded. Victory has no charm for me when purchased at such cost. Following the battle, Gustavus W. Smith is replaced as commander of the Confederate armies in and around Richmond by President Davis, who calls upon General Robert E. Lee to assume command of the exhausted force. Desiring to push the Federals out of his home state's capital, General Lee will begin reorganizing his forces over the next few weeks as a lull sets in over the Richmond battlegrounds, morphing his disorganized armies into the now officially named Army of Northern Virginia. McClellan's Army of the Potomac will lick their wounds from Seven Pines and continue to sit outside Richmond for the next three weeks as McClellan contemplates his next move. The first phase of the Peninsula Campaign, the Union offensive against Richmond, is over. Now, with McClellan's complacency to keep his army situated in the defensive works outside Richmond, the strategic initiative will be given to General Lee, who will seize the opportunity to plan out a bold counteroffensive against McClellan's forces, intending to finally drive them out of Richmond. At the end of June, Lee will make his move in a series of sharp engagements that would become known as the Seven Days Battles.