June 18, 1864
A general attack was planned for an early hour, so
Headquarters, which had lain down late, had scarce a chance to turn over once
before it was routed out again, just at daylight. The General was in a tearing
humor. (I don't think anybody felt any too pleasant.) “Lyman, you are behind
time!” I had the satisfaction of stepping out, all dressed, and saying shortly:
“No, sir, I am ready.” Presently: “Colonel Lyman, take two or three orderlies
and go to General Warren and report to me by telegraph promptly and frequently.”
I did not admire this duty, as there was to be an assault; but everybody must
do his share, and I started immediately. The General started with me. “Do you
know the way to General Hancock's?” “Yes, sir!” In a few moments: “This is not
the short cut to Hancock's.” “I did not say I knew the short cut,
General.” “Well, but I wanted the short cut! What's the use of the road; of
course I knew the road!” Whereupon I suggested I would gallop ahead, not to
lose time; which I did and left my chief to attack Biddle, who was late and was
coming up very red in the face!
It was half-past four when I got to Headquarters of the 5th
Corps, which consisted of a couple of tents, pitched by a solitary tree.
Warren, with all his clothes on, was catching a little sleep on a camp bed.
Burnside1 was there also, sitting under the tree, and there was a
telegraph operator with his little portable instrument. Our lines were
advancing, and there was an inexplicable silence along the skirmish line. . . . At 6.50 came an order for all the line
to advance and to attack the enemy if found. . . . A little later, after seven, Major
Roebling came in and reported he had discovered the enemy's new line of works,
that ran along a high ground beyond the railroad, and that they were all there,
with batteries in position. Soon after General Warren mounted, and we all rode
to the front, over a wide oat-field past the works captured last evening, from
which we were afterwards driven. In these there was one part where we seemed to
have had an enfilade fire, for the Rebel dead lay there, one on top of the
other. . . . We stopped under a hollow
oak, just at a point of woods and at the juncture of two country roads. Some
movement of our troops attracted the enemy, who immediately sent two or three
round shot to enfilade the road, and which of course came about our ears in a
most uncomfortable way. Ill luck would have it that the fire of two or three
batteries just crossed at that point. So not a gun could open but that we got a
reminder. To which may be added that stray bullets from Crawford's front came zip!
Tziz! to add their small voices. We had it intermittently all day long from
eight o'clock till dark. New batteries soon came up, under charge of Captain Phillips
(Appleton's commander). “I want you to go in there with your guns,” said
General Griffin, “but you will be under fire there.” “Well,” said Phillips, “I
have been in those places before"; and rode on, followed by his pieces.
Later, his First Lieutenant, Blake, was carried by me, dead, shot with a minié ball through the
forehead. . . .
After much difficulty in advancing the different divisions,
we at last drove the enemy from the railroad cut and a gully beyond, and got
in, to about 200 yards of their works. At 3.30 in the afternoon the first
assault took place. We rode out on an open field to watch it. In front was a
broad expanse, quite flat; then the railroad cut with a fringe of bushes, and
then a gradual rise crowned by the Rebel rifle-pits and batteries, which were
distant perhaps half a mile. Close to us, on each side, were our batteries,
firing as fast as they could, and the rebels were sending back shot, shell, and
shrapnel as hard as possible. Half a mile is no good with minié rifles; and, as
soon as we attacked, the balls came tolerably numerous, cutting up little puffs
of sand on the dry field. I sat up straight on my horse, comme les autres, but
I can't say it was pleasant, though it is a help to have others cool and brave.
It was as I expected — forty-five days of constant marching, assaulting and
trenching are a poor preparation for a rush! The men went in, but not with spirit;
received by a withering fire, they sullenly fell back a few paces to a slight
crest and lay down, as much as to say, “We can't assault but we won't run.” The
slopes covered with dead and wounded bore testimony that they were willing to
give proof of courage even in circumstances that they deemed desperate. Another
attack at six resulted no better, save that the lines were at all points
pressed close in on those of the enemy. Birney, during the day, made a grand
attack with no better success, on the right. I returned after dark, feeling
pretty sad. General Meade was much disappointed, but took it cheerfully as he
does every matter which affects him personally. The whole thing resulted just
as I expected. You cannot strike a full blow with a wounded hand.
_______________
1 “Everyone was near the breaking-point. He,
Burnside, complained of the heavy artillery detailed to his corps. ‘They are
worthless,’ said he; ‘they didn't enlist to fight and it is unreasonable to
expect it from them. In the attack last night I couldn't find thirty of them!’
He afterwards said of Meade (to one of his Staff): ‘He is irascible; but he is
a magnanimous man.’ Presently up comes Griffin, in one of his peculiar
blusters! and all about a commissary who, he maintains, didn't follow orders.
Griffin stormed and swore. ‘Now! now!’ said Warren (who can be very judicious
when he chooses), ‘let us all try to keep our tempers more, and not swear so
much. I know I give way myself; but it is unworthy.’” — Lyman's Journal.
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 167-70
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