Headquarters 6th Corps,
Camp Near White Oak Church,
May 13, 1863.
My dear Miss Sedgwick:
The General has just informed me that you were quite anxious
to learn some of the particulars of our late movement on the other side of the
Rappahannock, and asked me if I would like to make the attempt to give you an
idea of what the 6th Corps had done. I am sure that I feel a great pleasure in
doing anything I can to give you all that I know, but I am also sure that,
however hearty my efforts may be, I shall fall far short of reality, very far
short, I fear, of making the matter interesting. It requires one of two things
to be able to do this well, neither of which do I possess, namely, long
experience or genius. I am neither a Russell nor a Smalley. Do you remember the
latter's remarkable description of the battle of Antietam, published in the “Tribune,”
and so very extensively copied?
When this late campaign began the General — I mean your
brother — had quite a little army under his command. General Hooker sent about
four corps to cross the river at United States Ford, leaving the General in
command of three corps, the 1st, 3rd, and his own, amounting to about fifty
thousand men. The general plan was that we, i.e., these three corps under the
General, should make a strong demonstration just below Fredericksburg, at and
below the place where Franklin made his crossing under Burnside, while Hooker
was to make the main attack, if possible, on their rear and left flank. Our
action depended entirely on the movements of the enemy. He might force us to
convert our feigned attack into a real one, and for this reason a strong force
was left here. The previous movements of our cavalry under Stoneman were, as
you will have already learned from the newspapers, to prepare for the total
defeat of the army under Lee by cutting or interrupting his communications.
It was, I think, on the 28th of April (dates have been so
confused in my mind lately that I shall have to trust to you to make obvious
corrections) that the order — the final order — to move came to us. Generals
Sickles (3rd Corps) and Reynolds (1st) were to report to the General. It was a
dismally rainy day. One large brigade, known as the “Light Division,” was sent
to the pontoon train to carry the boats about two miles to the bank of the
river, a most fatiguing and, some of us thought, a very unnecessary proceeding.
The ground on this side of the river is for about a third of
a mile a perfect flat, evidently an old water bottom. Then comes a range of low
hills, cut here and there by ravines — just the ground in and by which to
conceal large numbers of men. Behind and quite near were woods, in and behind
which the corps encamped the first night. The pontoon train was moved up as far
by the teams as was safe from observation by the enemy. Luckily there was
something of a fog, which increased as night came on. At eleven P.M. the men
detailed for the purpose were to begin carrying the pontoons to the place of
crossing. At a given point other men from General Brooks's division (the 1st of
our corps) were to meet the boats in parties of sixty to each boat, to cross
the river and take possession of the opposite bank. I do not know how many men
it required to carry each boat; it was so dark I could not see, although many
times close to them. I should think not less than twenty-five. Poor devils!
they had a hard task. The approach to the river was very slow. Before daylight
about twenty boats had been placed in the water. Everything on the other side
was perfectly quiet; nothing unusual was observed. The fog was quite dense, but
before the boats began to arrive the enemy's pickets were occasionally heard
talking among themselves or singing. The boats were carried with as little
noise as possible, but the distance to the other side — about four hundred feet
— was too small to prevent some noise being heard. At the last, however, it
became useless to attempt a longer concealment of the mere noise. Then matters
were rushed through with a will. All this time the dense fog continued.
Finally, at the first dawn of light, the boats, about fifteen in number, I
think, — I could not see them well enough to count them, — were manned by the
engineer soldiers who were to row them and were filled by the designated
troops, which were of General Russell's brigade, and, as nearly as possible,
they all pushed off together. Not a sound was heard from the other side.
Officers on our side and some in the boats were giving orders and directions in
loud tones. The boats moved on in the dim light, and in a very few seconds
faded away into faint, uncertain shadows. We could hear the oars, we could even
hear the beaching of the boats on the opposite bank; the noise became a little
fainter, and we felt sure that they must have landed; another moment of
suspense, and then there shone out through the fog just one bright spark of
fire, followed instantly by the report of a musket, and then succeeded a
volley, a rattling volley, from about a regiment of men in the rifle-pits near
the bank. But their firing was wild. The most of the bullets came whistling
over the heads of the men on the bluff on this side, not less than fifty feet
above the level of the water. Very few men in the boats were injured, one
killed and eight wounded. After the, first volley by the enemy there was no
further interference with our possession of the position occupied. The boats
were at once brought back, refilled with men, and sent to the other side, until
two brigades were on that bank. Then the work of constructing two bridges was
at once begun. Artillery was posted on this side in such manner as to support
the troops thrown over. The bridges being completed, the rest of General
Brooks's division passed over and strengthened their position as soon as
possible by means of rifle-pits.
Meanwhile General Reynolds, who was to effect a crossing
about half a mile below, had been unsuccessful in making lodgment on the south
bank. I think that it was not till the afternoon that he effected his purpose,
with a loss considerably heavier than at the crossing of the 6th Corps. He also
began to put himself in a position to hold the ground, and by his making rifle-pits
finally drew upon himself the fire from a strong, well-posted battery within
good range. To this fire our heavy batteries on this side replied, though
without apparent effect, the distance being too great. General Reynolds lost a
few men, less than half a dozen, I think, by this fire.
Having effected our lodgment on that side of the river, and
finding that the enemy was disposed not to try to drive us back, General Hooker
took from us the 3rd Corps, and the following day, if I remember rightly,
ordered General Reynolds also to join him near Chancellorsville. This left the
6th Corps alone in its glory. Reynolds's bridges were taken up, and we awaited
orders. These came to us so irregularly from defects in the telegraph that it
was impossible to execute some of them. General Brooks's men had made
themselves comfortable on the other side. His skirmishers were within little
more than pistol-shot of those of the enemy. Their line of battle was
distinctly visible in the line of the railroad, and the only disposition they
had shown to be at all disagreeable was by a harmless artillery fire at
intervals, entirely unprovoked on our part.
Lying thus in suspense, an order came to us to pursue the
enemy on the Bowling Green Road (south from Fredericksburg), that they were
flying, routed to Richmond. Then came another order to march to
Chancellorsville, to unite with Hooker, crushing and destroying any force which
we might find opposed to us. This was Saturday night. At about one o'clock A.M.
the head of the column was in motion toward Fredericksburg. We had information
from Butterfield, Hooker's Chief of Staff, that there were but three regiments
in front of us, in the works on the heights. The road was bad for artillery, and
our progress was slow. At daybreak the head of the column was halted at the
entrance to the town, General Newton not wishing to run the risk of anything
like a panic through a surprise. About sunrise the General and his staff came
up to where the first troops were halted. There had been, I should have said,
some skirmishing nearly all the way to the town, losses not large. A movement
upon the enemy's works was at once ordered. The regiments sent up could not see
a sign of a rebel. They were quite near the first line of works when they were
saluted by a heavy musketry and artillery fire, and repulsed; i.e., they did
not gain the works, but they remained on the ground, lying down, protected by a
slight elevation. Immediately batteries were ordered into position to shell the
works; but it was all, or nearly all, uphill work, and not much damage could
have been done. All it did accomplish was to make the enemy keep his head out
of sight. One or two of our regiments were sent into the town, to prevent
anything like a surprise on our flank. We then found that our engineers had
already commenced a bridge directly opposite the town, over which, as soon as
completed, General Gibbon of the 2nd Corps was to march his division. An hour
or so elapsed before his men came into the town, and then he reported to the
General, who directed him to move to the right, to try to obtain a position
that would command the works directly in front of us. General Gibbon moved his
men up, crossed a canal in rear of the town, but found his further progress
impeded by a second canal, over which there was no bridge or other means of
crossing. The rifle-pits in front of him were also well manned, and his
movements unsuccessful, as they were not made without loss. Finding this plan
fail, as did also an attempt to make a similar attack on the left, in front of
General Howe, commanding our 2nd Division, and for a similar reason, the
General finally organized a strong attack at about the centre of the works. In
front of this point — which, by the way, can scarcely be called a point, for it
was not less than three to four hundred yards in extent — was a slope almost
entirely free from obstructions, and therefore completely under the enemy's
fire, both of artillery and infantry. Then came a sunken road, lined on each
side by a stone wall about four feet high, thus forming a strong and effective
covering for the defenders. Beyond this was a short but somewhat steep slope to
the crest of the heights, in which were the batteries. All these works were
commanded and protected by each other, so that the position was a very strong
one. The storming columns were formed, partly in column and partly in line, and
ordered to move up at double-quick without firing a shot. Our artillery was
ordered to open the hottest kind of a fire the instant our storming party
should move. This fire was directed from each flank, and kept up as long as
possible with safety to our own men. General Howe was directed to move upon the
position in front of him, on the extreme left, in conjunction with the attack
at the centre. At last everything was arranged, and the storming party began at
a given signal to move from the streets where the different regiments were
formed. The artillery opened a tremendous fire. As soon as the head of the columns
made their appearance on the long slope, the enemy's fire opened upon them very
heavily, both from guns and infantry, and, with the exception of one regiment,
the whole force moved on steadily, magnificently, without firing a shot, the
men dropping like leaves in autumn. Their approach to the works seemed, from
where we stood watching, terribly slow. Every second that the dreadful fire
continued diminished the strength of the attacking party by scores. One portion
of the force almost seemed to come to a halt just on the edge of the sunken
road of which I spoke. It was a very anxious moment; but it was only a moment,
for the very next saw our men climbing the steep slope beyond the road,
directly in front of the batteries. One single color (that of the 6th Maine)
never for one second faltered until the very crest of the heights was gained,
and it became a sign of victory and a rallying-point for the men who had met
more obstacles in their way. There were only a few of us gathered about the
General at this moment, but a cheer, weak as it was, could not be refused. The
entire line of the works on those fearful heights was gained. General Howe had
watched his opportunity, and carried the rifle-pits and batteries in his front
in a very spirited manner. General Gibbon, at the earliest moment, brought his
men through the town to our support, following the approach we had made.
The enemy fled in large numbers from his works, leaving many
dead and wounded, fifteen pieces of artillery, and a considerable number of small
arms. Our loss was, I think, about one thousand. The three rebel regiments
which Butterfield told us occupied the position were found to be, upon inquiry
of prisoners, five brigades. We captured between three and four hundred men;
but of the fifteen guns taken, there were unfortunately but nine sent in. The
others were retaken on the following day. This was no fault of the 6th Corps,
which, in order to execute the order received to march to join General Hooker,
could spare not a man or horse to send in the guns. General Gibbon, whose
division remained in the town, should have attended to the matter, and, indeed,
if he could have foreseen the events of the following day would, no doubt, have
brought in all captured property of any value.
The heights once gained, our force moved on very steadily to
a line of hills still higher, and distant about half or three quarters of a
mile. Our broken line was reformed, our batteries brought up, and everything
prepared to move forward. Our line of march was the plank road leading from
Fredericksburg nearly due west to Chancellorsville, where, as Hooker informed
the General, we would find the enemy's right flank entirely exposed to our
attack. We moved on cautiously, skirmishers well in the advance. The enemy had
succeeded in carrying off a couple of guns, by means of which he caused us not
a little annoyance. He would take advantage of every good position, which was
by no means seldom, to throw a few shells at our advancing column. Then it
became necessary to dislodge them, which could be done only by artillery, which
had first to be brought into proper position to reply. Artillery cannot march
across country as infantry can, prepared at any moment to deliver its fire. All
this took time, valuable time. The ground was undulating, and here and there
slightly wooded. We went on slowly but carefully, so as not to be drawn into
any trap. At last we approached a wood which covered the whole of the ground
over which we were to advance. There we met their infantry in force, and there
we had a very hard fight. Some of our regiments were broken into the merest
fragments. Our approach had been slow enough to allow them, the enemy, to bring
up reinforcements from Banks's Ford, distant from our right flank only about a
mile, and also from the force in front of Hooker. At all events, wherever it
came from, the force was sufficient to check us effectively until night came
on. Thus finished Sunday. At daybreak on the morning of Monday the General sent
me in to see General Butterfield, to tell him the position we were in, and to
try to get communication with General Hooker, then not more than five or six
miles distant from us. If we could only crash through, if Hooker would only
cooperate with us, all might be well. I heard all Butterfield had to say, and
rode on, crossed the river, passed through Fredericksburg, and had gone about
half a mile beyond the town when I found a very serious obstacle to my further
progress, in the shape of quite a large force of the enemy coming from the southwest
directly toward the town, thus placing themselves between the town and the rear
of our corps. I was thus prevented from joining the General, and turned back to
try to make my way to him by way of Banks's Ford, but getting astray, did not
succeed until about eleven at night, so that of the operations of our corps on
that day (Monday) I can give you only what I have heard from those who were on
the ground. The General had early notice of the movement of the enemy upon his
rear, and he quickly made the necessary preparation to meet an attack from that
direction. After taking possession of the very heights we had captured, the
evident intention of the enemy was to cut the corps off from its only remaining
line of retreat, namely, Banks's Ford. For this purpose a very heavy force was
led by General Lee in person from the position in front of Hooker around our
left, to fall upon what he supposed would be our rear and right flank. But the
General had already established a portion of the corps in a new line of battle
facing to the rear, and although the attack made by Lee was, according to all
the accounts of those who saw it, the most furious of the war, it was most
gallantly met and repulsed by a far inferior force.
It has been estimated that the force which Lee brought in
this attack was not less than twenty thousand. Even supposing the number to
have been no more than twelve to thirteen thousand, it was brought to bear upon
very little more than two brigades of ours — not more than six to seven
thousand men. This attack took place late in the afternoon, and, like the
action of the previous day, was brought to a close by night setting in. During
the evening the corps was moved to a position near to the bridges which had
been laid at Banks's Ford, and before daylight the whole command had recrossed
the river, and the bridges were taken up, the crossing and removal of the
bridges being effected under an annoying but harmless artillery fire.
Several men — I heard of two or three — died from mere
exhaustion before the corps recrossed the river. The day had been very hot, and
the night even was unseasonably warm. It is by no means a pleasant thing for us
— of the 6th Corps, I mean—to look back at the results of our short campaign;
to think of the will with which the troops went to their work, and the
fruitless results. I say fruitless; just look at it. Here we are just where we
started from; we have lost nearly five thousand men, and what have we gained?
Nothing, surely, in our position. We took about fifteen hundred prisoners and
fifteen guns minus six, and we inflicted upon the enemy a loss in killed and
wounded certainly not less than that sustained by ourselves; it is estimated by
every one as greater, for our artillery made sad havoc in their dense attacking
masses on Monday afternoon.
How different everything might, nay, would have been, if we
had had the cooperation of even a small part of the immense force with Fighting
Joe Hooker! Why did he not keep Lee occupied so that he would not have dared to
turn his back to Chancellorsville, to fall upon us? Or if, finding that he had
so left him, why did he not know it and act accordingly; fall upon the rear of
his column as it came down upon us? What was Hooker there for? To entrench himself,
with six corps under his command, and expect and even order one single corps to
march right through the enemy, to “crush and destroy,” were the words of his
order to the General, “any force which might oppose itself to” our march? Would
it not have been quite as reasonable an undertaking for him to have marched
with his force to join us, say, upon the heights of Fredericksburg, which we
could so easily have held? You never saw a more bitter set of men than we were
when we saw the way things were going. I saw General Hooker myself on Monday
afternoon. I took considerable trouble to see him, thinking it might be some
satisfaction to him to communicate with some staff-officer of the General's;
but when I told him of the hard fight the corps had had the previous day, he
said, in a very disagreeable way, that he had heard of it, and then added: “There
were very few troops in front of you, however.” My reply was very short, and I
left him. And now look at the order he issues congratulating the army on its
achievements:
"If it [the army] has not
accomplished all that was expected, the reasons are well known to the army. It
is sufficient to say they were of a character not to be foreseen or prevented
by human sagacity or resource.” Indeed, the “reasons” are very well known to
the army. And if he had not sufficient sagacity to meet and overcome greater
obstacles than he found, the best thing he can do is to resign. He says: “We
have taken from the enemy five thousand prisoners captured and brought off
seven pieces of artillery,” etc., when the only artillery taken was by our
corps, a command so disconnected from him that he wrote to the General: “You
are too far for me to direct.” He says nothing of all the artillery which he
lost; and the “splendid achievements” of which he boasts in a previous order
are as yet quite unknown to us. If he had but left us either one of the two
corps — the 1st or 3rd — which were under the General's command when we first
began operations, we could have gone through anything. If the rest of the army
had fought as this corps did, we should have been in Richmond before this time.
After we returned to our old camps,
and the pickets had resumed their old positions on the banks of the river, the
rebel pickets called out to ours, saying that none of our army could ever cross
that river again except “the fellows who took those heights.”
General Hooker was at first disposed to make this corps the
scapegoat for his failure, but he soon found that he stood alone in his
estimate of what had really been accomplished by it. The army — so far as we
could learn, the whole army — stood to endorse the General, and to uphold him
even against Hooker. It has, take it all together, been a magnificent
opportunity thrown away — such an one as we can scarcely ever hope to have
again. At no time did Hooker have more than one single corps engaged. Two of
the corps with him did not fire a shot. Corps commanders begged for permission
to attack, but were kept back. Hooker seemed to have just lost his head
entirely.
I wish I could tell you of the thousand incidents of our
short campaign. One sees so much that it is impossible to remember. In such
times one lives on excitement. Eating and drinking is too insignificant a
matter to think about. As for sleep, a few minutes thrown in here and there
seem to be quite sufficient for the needs of nature, although, of course, such
a state of things cannot last many days.
One of our staff, a volunteer aide, Mr. Farrar of Maine, was
captured. Lieutenant-Colonel Kent, our Inspector-General, was slightly wounded.
These are our only accidents.
I am very
respectfully yours,
R. F. Halsted.
SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of
John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 110-29
