Headquarters Army Of Potomac
Monday, May 16,
1864
I will continue the letter of this morning, describing our first
day's fight. I had got as far as the death of General Hays and the wounding of
Carroll. This was between five and six o'clock. Hays commanded one brigade of
Birney's division. He was a strong-built, rough sort of man, with red hair, and
a tawny, full beard; a braver man never went into action, and the wonder only
is that he was not killed before, as he always rode at the very head of his
men, shouting to them and waving his sword. Mott's division behaved badly (as
you observed, it broke and came back). This is a curious instance of a change
of morale. It is Hooker's old fighting division, but has since been under two
commanders of little merit or force of character; then there was some
discontent about re-enlistments and about the breaking up of the old 3d Corps,
to which it had belonged; and the result has been that most of this once crack
division has conducted itself most discreditably, this campaign. However, the
fresh troops saved the day, and, at dark, we occupied our old line (the dotted
one along the Brock road). . . .
It was long after dark when I rode back, and, with some
difficulty, found our camp, now pitched in a dusty, ploughed field. The fight
of this day had been an attack by parts of our three corps against the Corps of
Ewell on our right, and of Hill on our left. The fight had swayed back and
forth and ended in a drawn battle, both sides holding their lines. General
Grant ordered the attack all along the line, the next morning at 4.30; but put
it off to 5 o'clock on the representation that Burnside could not get up in
time. He was ordered to get in position by daylight and to go in on Hill's left
flank, where you see a dotted line nearly parallel to the Parker's Store road.
We were all up right early on that Friday the 6th of May, you may depend. “Lyman,”
said the General, “I want you to take some orderlies and go to General Hancock
and report how things go there during the day.” It was after five when I
mounted, and already the spattering fire showed that the skirmishers were
pushing out; as I rode down the crossroad, two or three crashing volleys rang
through the woods, and then the whole front was alive with musketry. I found General
Hancock at the crossing of the plank: he was wreathed with smiles. “We are
driving them, sir; tell General Meade we are driving them most beautifully.
Birney has gone in and he is just cleaning them out be-auti-fully!” This was
quite apparent from the distance of the receding firing and the absence of
those infernal minie balls. “I am ordered to tell you, sir, that only one
division of General Burnside is up, but that he will go in as soon as he can be
put in position.” Hancock's face changed. “I knew it!” he said vehemently. “Just
what I expected. If he could attack now, we would smash A. P. Hill all
to pieces!” And very true were his words. Meantime, some hundreds of prisoners
were brought in; all from Hill's troops. Presently, however, the firing seemed
to wake again with renewed fury; and in a little while a soldier came up to me
and said: “I was ordered to report that this prisoner here belongs to
Longstreet's Corps.” “Do you belong to Longstreet?” I hastened to ask. “Ya-as,
sir,” said grey-back, and was marched to the rear. It was too true! Longstreet,
coming in all haste from Orange Court House, had fallen desperately on our
advance; but he had uphill work. Birney's and Getty's men held fast and fought
with fury, a couple of guns were put in the plank road and began to fire solid
shot over the heads of our men, adding their roar to the other din. The streams
of wounded came faster and faster back; here a field officer, reeling in the
saddle; and there another, hastily carried past on a stretcher. I stood at the
crossing and assisted in turning back stragglers or those who sought to go
back, under pretext of helping the wounded. To some who were in great pain I
gave some opium, as they were carried past me.
It was about seven o'clock, I think, that Webb's brigade
marched along the Brock road, and, wheeling into the pike, advanced to the
support of Birney. Among them was the 20th Massachusetts. Abbot smiled and
waved his sword towards me, as he rode by, and I called out to him wishing him
good luck; and so he went on to his death, as gallant a fellow as fell that
day; a man who could ride into the fight with a smile on his face. Just before
eight o'clock came one brigade of Stevenson's division (Burnside's Corps) which
had been sent to strengthen Hancock; the other brigade came later and was put
on our left, where we were continually paralyzed by reports that the enemy was
coming up the Brock road to take us in the flank. This prevented proper
mobility of our left, and, after all, they turned out to be a division of Rebel
cavalry, who were defeated later in the day by our men. Stevenson's brigade was
now put in to relieve the advanced lines that had long been under fire, and all
other fresh troops were marched to the front. But Longstreet knew full well
(they know everything, those Rebels) that Burnside was coming up with two
divisions, on his flank; and knew too that he was late, very late. If Hancock
could first be paralyzed, the day was safe from defeat, which now impended.
Gathering all his forces, of both corps, he charged furiously. At a little
after eleven Mott's left gave way. On the right the brigade of Stevenson,
consisting of three raw Massachusetts regiments miscalled "Veterans,"
broke, on being brought under a tremendous fire. . . . The musketry now drew nearer to us,
stragglers began to come back, and, in a little while, a crowd of men emerged
from the thicket in full retreat. They were not running, nor pale, nor scared,
nor had they thrown away their guns; but were just in the condition described
by the Prince de Joinville, after Gaines's Mill. They had fought all they meant
to fight for the present, and there was an end of it! If there is anything that
will make your heart sink and take all the backbone out of you, it is to see
men in this condition! I drew my sword and rode in among them, trying to stop
them at a little rifle-pit that ran along the road. I would get one squad to
stop, but, as I turned to another, the first would quietly walk off. There was
a German color-bearer, a stupid, scared man (who gave him the colors, the Lord
only knows!), who said, “Jeneral Stavenzon, he telled me for to carry ze colors
up ze road.” To which I replied I would run him through the body if he didn't
plant them on the rifle-pit. And so he did, but I guess he didn't stick.
Meanwhile there was no danger at all; the enemy did not follow up — not he. He
was busy swinging round to oppose Burnside, and was getting his men once more
in order. At half-past one I rode to General Meade and reported the state of
affairs. The Provost-General went out at once and stopped and organized the
stragglers. At two o'clock Burnside, who had been marching and countermarching,
did attack. He made some impression, but it was too late, and he had not
enough force to follow on. About this time I returned to General Hancock.1
His men were rallied along the road; but regiments and brigades were all mixed
up; and we were obliged to listen to Burnside's fighting without any advance on
our part. In our front all was quiet; and I got permission to go back to the 2d
Corps hospital and look up the body of Major Abbot. Two miles back, in an open
farm surrounded by woods, they had pitched the hospital tents. I will not
trouble you with what I saw there, as I passed among the dead and dying. Abbot
lay on a stretcher, quietly breathing his last — his eyes were fixed and the
ashen color of death was on his face. Near by lay his Colonel, Macy, shot in
the foot. I raised Macy and helped him to the side of Abbot, and we stood there
till he died. It was a pitiful spectacle, but a common one on that day. I left
in haste, after arranging for sending the remains home, for the sudden sound of
heavy firing told of some new attack. The Rebels (unquenchable fellows they
are!), seeing that Burnside had halted, once more swung round and charged
furiously on Hancock in his very rifle-pits. I rode at once to General Meade,
to ask that Burnside might attack also. This he did, without further orders and
with excellent effect. When I got back to the cross-road, I was told the enemy
had broken through on the plank and cut us in two; this turned out an
exaggeration. They did get into a small part of a rifle-pit but were
immediately driven out leaving near sixty dead in the trench at the point.
_______________
1 Lyman says in his journal: “1.15 (about). Back to
Hancock. He alone, in rear of Brock road; and there he asked me to sit down
under the trees, as he was very tired indeed. All his Staff were away to set in
order the troops. They had now constructed a tolerable rifle-pit extending
along the Brock and to the head of the cross-road. He said that his troops were
rallied but very tired and mixed up, and not in a condition to advance. He had
given orders to have the utmost exertions put forth in putting regiments in
order, but many of the field officers were killed and wounded, and it was hard.
At 2 P.M. Burnside, after going almost to Parker's Store and again back, made a
short attack with loud musketry. Ventured to urge Hancock (who was very
pleasant and talkative) to try and attack too; but he said with much regret
that it would be to hazard too much, though there was nothing in his immediate
front, which had been swept by Stevenson's other brigade, which marched from
left to right.”
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 92-7
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