MECHANICSVILLE AND COLD HARBOR
CHAPTER VII
GEN. McClellan, now in command of the Northern army, his army having been greatly recruited, numbering over a hundred thousand men, shifted his position to the Peninsular between the York and James rivers, at Yorktown, Va. This was in April, 1862. We left our camp on the river and resuming our muskets, marched direct for Fredericksburg, Va. It was on this march that we heard the news of the battle between the ironclads Merrimac and Monitor. We learned how the Merrimac had steamed out and made great destruction and consternation among the wooden craft of the enemy. We cheered lustily at the good news and the toil of our march was made light and easy as we heard that the wooden vessels of the Yankees had been easily sunk or run aground by our big monster. Of course we did not know of the final result at that time. Gen. McClellan advanced to within seven or eight miles of Richmond, and Gen. Joseph E. Johnson in command of our army opposed him. On May 31, 1862, a sharp battle between McClellan's advance corps and a part of Gen. Johnson's army occurred at Seven Pines. During the engagement Gen. Johnson was wounded and Gen. (Page 57) R. E. Lee was placed in command. On the 26th of June, Gen. A. P. Hill, to whose corps we belonged, having been attached to Gen. Archer's Tennessee Brigade of that corps, began his march toward Mechanicsville, the extreme right of McClellan's army. In the evening of that day we came in contact with the enemy heavily entrenched at Mechanicsville. As we came out in front in an old field they began firing on us with their artillery, and the shells passed with a whizzing sound right over our heads; it was anything but pleasant. They kept up a brisk firing but it did not retard our advance in the least. As we moved rapidly forward across the field, making for a piece of wood at the farther side where the enemy were awaiting us behind their breastworks, a battery of our artillery, commanded by Capt. Pegram and manned by a company of Marylanders, came galloping up with us and passed on to our left the men cheering and singing, "Maryland, My Maryland." They unlimbered their pieces right out in front of the Yankee battery and commenced firing. We watched the duel as best we could as we hurried on to the timber ahead. All this was extremely exciting to me and I realized at once that we were entering upon a battle. My heart beat quick and my lips became dry, my legs felt weak and a prayer rose to my lips. We had barely entered the wood when pandemonium broke loose. The artil (Page 58) lery redoubled its fury, the musketry of both sides began to roar like a storm, and I knew I was into it now. Strange to say the fear passed away, and I no longer realized the danger amid the excitement and I could face the bullets with perfect indifference. Reaching an old rail fence in the woods I stopped behind it, and a comrade by my side called my attention to the splinters being knocked off the rails by the minnie balls from the enemy's rifles and we both smiled, I suppose because they were doing the rails all the hurt and leaving us untouched. A great millpond full of water was directly in our front and it was impossible for us to reach the Yankees without swimming. We remained there shooting at them and they at us until night came down and then all was still. Next morning we expected to renew the contest but they were all gone, having stolen away in the night. It seems that while we held their attention in front, Gen. Jackson had moved on their flank and they were compelled to retreat. We lost quite a number of our command in this engagement, some killed and many wounded. Gen. Archer's horse was killed near me in the engagement and I ran to his side to help him up from under the horse, which had fallen on the General's leg, but others were there before me and helped him to his feet. The night before we made the attack at Mechanicsville I was on guard at a bridge across the Chicka (Page 59) hominy, and it was one of those dark nights when you can almost feel the darkness, and all the frogs in the settlement had congregated at the bridge to celebrate the Richmond fights, little frogs, big frogs, old and young, every one doing his best; you couldn't hear yourself speak, so great was the uproar. I was peering out into the dark amidst all this bedlam, trying to discharge my duty as a sentry, and I was feeling mighty queer on the abutment of the bridge with one other sentry by my side whom I could not see at all in the darkness and I was thinking, suppose the "Yank" should advance, how on earth would I know until he would be right on top of me. I couldn't see a blink and couldn't hear a sound for those billions of frogs and I was feeling lonesome, when just across the bridge in front of me in the impenetrable darkness a Yankee sentinel struck a match, to light his pipe I presume. My excited imagination construed the flash of the match as a flash from a rifle, and being immediately in my front, of course it was aimed at me, and I plunged headlong off that abutment about ten feet to the ground. The next thing I knew my companion was doubled up on the bridge, convulsed with laughter. "Did you try to dodge the bullet?" and he laughed the harder whilst I crawled back to my place on the abutment, wishing the frogs would hush and daylight would make haste and come. (Page 60) The day following Mechanicsville, after discovering that our foe was gone, we pushed on after him and overtook him at Cold Harbor. He was well fortified and prepared to make a stubborn resistance. On this 27th of June, 1862, Archer's Brigade, of which the Fifth Alabama Battalion formed a part, was drawn up in line of battle, immediately in front of three fortified lines of battle. Gen. Longstreet concentrated his brigades with Hood in front, off to our right, in a clump of woods. It was our part in the great battle which was to follow, to lead the forlorn hope. This, as all know, is the severest test to which soldiers can be subjected. To draw the enemy's attention and endure the ordeal of his fire, with small hope of success, requires supreme nerve and pluck. Archer's brigade was offered on the altar of patriotism to enable Longstreet's men to capture the enemy's works. These movements were skillfully planned and, as history shows, admirably executed. While the enemy was wholly intent on demolishing us, Longstreet swooped down with an irresistible rush and succeeded in demolishing them so far as their works and position were concerned. Gen. Archer and his men have never received any credit in the whole transaction, and yet their gallant charge alone rendered it practical or possible. The splendid charge of Archer's men and their noble gallantry engaged the entire attention (Page 61) of the opposing force, and thus Hood's Brigade had a better chance to make their celebrated attack which has covered
glory for all time to come with me. At the word of command Archer's men moved forward, with the Fifth Alabama Battalion in the center of the brigade. It was a long charge, on a hot day, across an open field and through an old apple orchard. The artillery and musketry opened on us from every quarter as soon as we came in range. The roar was deafening and furious; men fell on all sides, but the line pressed forward. Never did men behave more valiantly. Our battalion had men killed nearer the enemy's lines than any other in the brigade. Corporal Frank Camber, from Gainesville, Ala., was killed pierced with a number of balls within a few feet of the first line of breastworks. His body lay nearer the works than that of any other of the dead in Archer's Brigade. Sergeant James Wrenn, another Gainesville boy of Co. A, 5th Ala. Battalion, pierced through the body by a bullet, fell at my side as we moved rapidly in the charge. I turned aside out of the ranks to render him assistance, as he and I were mess-mates and school-boy friends at home, when the brave sergeant raising himself on his elbow waved me on, saying as he did so, "Leave me alone, move on. Your place is yonder in the battle line." Gallant friend! Brave patriot! I loved him dearly and was loath to (Page 62) leave him, but such is war. He never moved from where he had fallen. A second bullet entered his brain and he breathed his last on the spot. Another messmate near me to my left, threw up his hand to his breast and uttered the one word, "Oh !", and he too was killed. In these two battles, out of ninety-two men in my company, we lost more than twenty killed and as many wounded, a greater proportion of killed to the wounded than in any other battle of the war.
We were repulsed in our charge, as nothing short of a miracle could have enabled us to succeed. But the object of the charge was fully realized. We kept the Yankees so busy they had no time to attend to Longstreet and were swept out of their position by the irresistible rush of Hood's Texas Brigade. As we were forced to fall back we had quite a long run before we could cross over the bridge and secure its protection somewhat from the fearful hail of bullets. We had to pass through the old apple orchard with its trees scattered here and there, and behind every tree were a lot of poor fellows huddled to catch breath before going farther, as most of us were completely exhausted by the charge and hardly had breath enough left to stand on our legs. As I came to an extra large tree I was minded to stop and get a little breath to bear me over the hill, and as I made a break for it I discovered about a dozen or more already there, (Page 63) the first fellow hugging the tree, the next hugging him, and so on down the line. There was a comic fellow in the battalion who had picked up somewhere a tall, black beaver hat, with a tall crown and narrow brim, such as the gentry sometimes wear, and the boys called him, "Beegum." It happened that "Beegum" was on the tail end of the line behind the tree and as I came up panting for breath, some one hollered out, "Fall in behind Beegum." And here on the battlefield, amid ten thousand bullets, I felt the spirit of fun awaken a new life in me, as I threw my arms around "Beegum" about fifteen or twenty feet from that apple tree. You may rest assured that none of us hugged that tree many seconds. All we wanted was to catch one or two good breaths and then we made for the rear. As I crossed the top of the ridge and started down the other side I made a beeline for the little branch at the bottom , fringed with weeds and bushes.As I dashed in and fell in the branch I heard a fellow groaning and moaning terribly nearby, and on looking in his direction I discovered that it was my old chum who had laughed so heartily at my plunge off the bridge when the Yankee lighted his pipe. I asked him what was the matter. "Oh, I am shot plumb through." "Where?" "Right under my shoulder blade." He was evidently near death's door and I began to cut off his clothing to render what assistance I could. As I (Page 64) got off his jacket and through his shirt to the skin I soon saw there was no hole and no blood, but a piece of exploded bombshell had struck him under the shoulder blade and raised a great red blister and as his shirt and coat rubbed it his imagination did the rest. When I told him there was no hole and no ball had penetrated him, he sat up and straightened himself out, and drawing a long breath he exclaimed, "Well I thought I was dying!" So I had the laugh on him. Gen. McClellan was forced to abandon his lines in front of Richmond and withdrew towards the James River. Gen. Lee followed and at Savage Station another battle was fought and McClellan retired to Frazier's farm. I was sent from here in charge of twenty or thirty Yankee prisoners and a guard to Richmond, and ordered to deliver them to the prison authorities there and rejoin my command the next day. This was one of the most trying marches I ever made during the war. It was twenty odd miles and the Yankee prisoners were nearly exhausted, and what with the trouble with them and the long march I was completely worn out and when I reached Richmond I was too tired to stand up. One of the guard told me there was an Alabama home for Alabama soldiers located on a certain street, and he knew the way and was sure we would get a welcome with something to eat and a place to sleep.
So following his lead we finally reached the (Page 65) home and were cordially received and allowed to rest on the floor under a roof. We were each given a bowl of thin soup and some light-bread, all of which was a Godsend to us poor, worn-out, tired, hungry soldiers. We had delivered our prisoners and taken a receipt for them, so after a night's rest we returned as speedily as possible to rejoin our command, which we found at or near Frazier's Farm. Here a hard battle was fought, and again at Malvern Hill on July 1, the severest of them all. McClellan finally reached a landing on the James River and rested there under the protection of his gunboats. (Page 66)
Family Record and War Reminiscences
by William Frierson Fulton, Jr.
Livingston, AL, 1919
Transcribed by James W. Martin