"The Irish Ninth in Bivouac and Battle"
by Michael H. Macnamara
CHAPTER X.
Our Bonnie Green Flag. -- We reach Hampton, Va. -- A Reconnoissance. -- We march for Yorktown. -- Our Men dig Intrenchments. -- The Evacuation of Yorktown. -- We start for "West Point." -- Columbia Landing. -- White House. -- Gaines' Mills and Hanover Court House. -- An Engagement. -- A Noble Deed.
WHEN the steamer had hauled out into the stream, the general commanding ordered our green flag to be hoisted at the main truck. In a few moment the Irish symbol was run up aloft, and proudly the dear old flag fluttered in the breeze. It seemed like a bird of golden plumage, that had been long imprisoned, and snapped its folds in a sort of triumphant glee. Wild cheers rang out from a thousand Irish throats, and many a tear-dimmed eye gazed on the famous banner as it proudly floated on the air, and, from its glorious altitude, seeming to symbolize poor Ireland's future.
What wild thoughts animated the hearts of those exiled heroes as the gazed upon that flaunting flag, the world will never know; but that glorious moment will never pass from the minds of those that live to keep it cherished in the sanctuary of their memory.
The next day the regiment arrived at Fortress Monroe, and, after disembarking, marched at once to Hampton, Virginia. Nothing of interest occurred upon the route. The next day we changed our camp, to make room for other troops, which were continually arriving, and moved a distance of two miles, to a place in the vicinity of Newmarket Bridge, Virginia.
On the 27th of March the regiment formed part of a grand reconnoissance to Big Bethel, under command of General Porter, where they discovered a nest of rebels about five hundred strong. After a sharp contest, they were driven from their works, leaving their dinners behind them in their hasty flight. The same night we returned to camp, after marching a distance of twenty miles.
Early on the morning of Friday, the 4th of April, the regiment left Hampton, en route for Yorktown, throwing out skirmishers during the march. The enemy left their fortifications after firing a few shells. That night we reached Cockletown, and camped there, having marched about eighteen miles. We were very tired, and soon afterwards all hands gladly lay down and slept.
Early the following day the regiment continued the line of march, and about one o'clock arrived in front of the enemy's works before Yorktown, when they opened fire upon us, doing, however, little or no damage. Companies D and I were thrown out as skirmishers, and advanced to within four hundred yards of the enemy's works, which kept up a heavy and continuous fire. It was not, however, until the enemy opened upon them with some very large guns, casting shell and shot around, that they thought it advisable to retire.
They remained hat night in a ravine, close to the enemy's works, and could not pitch their tents, as they would attract attention. The shells throughout the night flew among them rather thick, without, however, doing any harm, though one man was killed and four wounded in the next regiment. General McClellan passed us here for the first time on the peninsula, and was received with great enthusiasm.
On the night of April 6 the Ninth was ordered out to dig intrenchments close to the enemy's works. The men labored with cautiousness and silence, and fully succeeded in their undertaking. With the morning sun the enemy perceived, to their astonishment and chagrin, a fine intrenchment, with good breastworks, dug out and thrown up under the very muzzles of their guns. They, however, did not seem to appreciate it as well as ourselves, and began shelling us in a "promiscuous" manner. It rained extremely hard the next day, and fifty men from each company in our regiment were detailed for picket duty. This was quite an uncomfortable job; but our lads obeyed the order with alacrity. During the day the firing between our artillery and that of the enemy was pretty heavy, and a large number of our party were killed. A continuous rain extended over that and the whole of the following day, with no prospect of clearing up. The shells from the enemy burst around us on every hand, some close to our regiment, but doing little or no damage. For some days the men were kept very busy at work in the trenches, the enemy firing occasionally, but never deterring our men from the pursuit of their honest avocations. Sometimes in the night we would be aroused from our repose by the loud thunder of the enemy's cannon, and the shriek of shells, that would pass in, over, and around our camp, scattering men and matter with the utmost nonchalance and impunity. The impudence of these shells was unparalleled; there was no mischief they would not do if properly directed; in fact, in the expressive language of "one of ours," "They had more cheek than they could well carry."
Matters continued in this state for a number of days. At three o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday, May 3, 1862, a shell burst close to our camp. It was the last shell sent forth from beleaguered Yorktown. A piece of it, weighing eight pounds, dropped near the right of Company I's street.
At seven o'clock A.M., on Sunday, May 14, a report spread from mouth to mouth, and from camp to camp, that Yorktown was evacuated. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed. The engineering genius of McClellan had overcome all obstacles, and Yorktown had succumbed.
About one o'clock P.M., the same day, we were ordered out, in light marching order, to garrison and guard the forts that were taken. Shortly after the victorious army of the Potomac was on the march in search of the foe.
At eight o'clock, on that memorable day, our regiment returned to camp, and soon afterwards three days' rations were issued to each man, in preparation for an immediate march; but later we learned, to our great disappointment, that it had been decided to leave our division behind. The night was dark and dismal; the rain poured in torrents. The regiment was expecting to move at a moment's notice, and they waited with great impatience the coming of orders. In the morning heavy firing was heard in the direction of Williamsburg, and it was surmised that our army had reached the rearguard of the retreating forces. About seven o'clock in the evening our division was upon the road, but was immediately ordered back until daylight.
The next morning was beautiful and bracing; the firing had ceased. We were preparing to march, when a rumor reached us that McClellan had captured a thousand prisoners, and was in hopes of a complete victory. In the evening, about eight o'clock, we struck tents, and at midnight moved on to Yorktown. After a rapid march the regiment arrived there, and we stretched ourselves upon the ground, and, wrapped in our blankets, slept until morning.
The next day we had an opportunity of visiting the various forts and defences in the immediate vicinity, and could not but admire the engineering skill they exhibited. Then, for the first time, the extraordinary labor of General McClellan could be appreciated. There, before us, stood that monument of the triumph of his engineering skill. Yorktown could have been made to succumb in no other way. Generals of low ability would have attempted the subjugation of the works by storm -- a proceeding which would have been attended with terrible disasters, and have culminated in defeat.
The method and plans of General McClellan were those of a wise and humane soldier; and history will eventually decide that, in compelling the evacuation of Yorktown, McClellan achieved one of those rare feats in military history, which will prove the finest laurel in the chaplet that crowns his brow. As we passed, a number of soldiers of various regiments were clustered round and upon the spot where Cornwallis delivered his sword to Washington; and we noticed that many of them broke off pieces of stone and carried them away as "souvenirs" of that memorable surrender.
On the 9th of May we arrived at West Point, Virginia, about two miles from which we encamped for the night, the men here being obliged to sleep on the ground, as their tents had not arrived. But we managed to pass a tolerable night. The next day we moved our camp a short distance. At this time we were about twenty-eight miles from Richmond.
The following day we were again supplied with three days' rations, and had orders to be ready, in light marching order, to move on Richmond. The graves of Union and rebel soldiers are scattered plentifully about West Point, and tell of the vigor of the fighting at that place. Next day General McClellan, happening to pass by where our regiment lay, our boys loudly cheered him, which was continued by other regiments as he passed on the road.
We remained here about two days, when we received orders to draw five days' rations, and to have one day's rations cooked, and be ready to move at two o'clock the following morning, when we struck tents, and about half past four were on our line of march.
The reader will, no doubt, perceive how rigorous and unceasing was the work of the last few weeks. But he cannot comprehend the innumerable difficulties with which we had to contend; the many comfortless nights we passed without shelter, in the midst of storm and rain, marching ankle-deep in mud and water, and lying down at night on a couch composed of that cold but plastic compound.
However, the thought that Richmond was to fall before our conquering arms, and that the impious men who had conspired and fostered the rebellion were soon to experience the full penalty of their treachery, animated the breasts of our gallant fellows, and they marched on, with merry songs and light hearts, to the fatal fields in front of the Confederate capital.
But many of the poor fellows suffered sadly. Weary and foot-sore they struggle on, not a murmer passing their lips.
On the morning of May 13 we resumed our weary march about half past four o'clock. Noon came, and by that time the sun shone so hot, and the roads were so dusty, that one by one the gallant fellows dropped behind, falling from sheer exhaustion by the roadside, throwing knapsack, blankets, and other articles of the soldier's kit, recklessly away.
The scenery in that part of the country was surprisingly beautiful; but, tired out as our fellows were, they had no eye for scenic beauties. At last, completely worn out, we halted on the night of the 14th at Columbia Landing, but had orders to hold ourselves ready to march at a moment's notice. Next day it rained heavily, but marching orders did not come, for which all of us were devoutly thankful. After remaining here about twenty-four hours, we resumed our march over a road deep with mud, so deep that the wagon trains could not be moved without extra assistance. After marching about six miles, the regiment reached "White House," an estate belonging to General Lee. Here we encamped, and, having no tents with us, were again obliged to sleep in the open air. Shortly afterwards we shifted our camp to take up our proper position in line.
We remained at White House for a short time, and then proceeded to Tunstall's Station, leaving two companies behind performing "fatigue duty." These companies joined the regiment on the 20th, having been relieved. We were now within eighteen miles of Richmond, and the next day we moved four miles forward. Contrabands here swarmed about in all directions, and camps were being organized in which to keep them. There are many fine houses in that part of Virginia, and the land generally appeared to be in a good state of cultivation.
We had now arrived in Hanover County. About one o'clock, on the afternoon of the 22d of May, we again started, and after marching about five miles, encamped in a fine field, completely surrounded by dense woods, forming a beautiful camp, having plenty of sun and shade, and good water easy of access. Heavy firing was heard the whole of the next day, and from our camp we could plainly see the balloon used by our commander in reconnoitring the position of the enemy; and being so close, we had strict orders to keep all music quiet. Our drums, therefore, were obliged to be still. We were now about ten miles and a half from Richmond.
On Saturday morning, May 24, a regiment of our brigade was ordered out on a reconnoissance. They cautiously advanced, until their skirmishers saw signs of the enemy. The regiment then dashed forward, and came upon a whole brigade of rebels. A sharp contest ensued; and, having been taken unawares, the enemy were compelled to retreat. In this skirmish, our side lost twelve killed and wounded; they were all brought safely in, and the dead buried next day with military honors. On the following day our regiment received orders to march forward towards Richmond. They halted at a place called Gaines' Mills, within eight miles of the Confederate capital.
On the morning of Tuesday, May 27, the Ninth Regiment moved from camp, near Gaines' Mills, in light marching order. The rain poured down incessantly all the morning, which made the roads very muddy. About noon, however, the rain ceased, and the sun shone very warmly. By a circuitous route, after marching about eighteen miles, and very weary, we reached the vicinity of Hanover Court House, where a fierce fight seemed to be raging, the regiments already arrived there hailing the approach of our Bonnie Green Flag with vociferous cheering. Our boys, tired though they were, moved steadily forward, and took up their position in front. About three o'clock, the Ninth was engaged with the enemy. After several volleys, which appeared to take effect, we had orders to charge down upon a dense wood, on which the left of the rebel line rested, their whole force being under the command of General Branch. With vigorous cheers our regiment obeyed, and the long, unwavering line of the Ninth swept down upon the wood. A fierce hand-to-hand conflict ensued, in which Irish valor proved itself victorious; the enemy turned about and fled from the wood, followed by our determined lads, who pursued them to an adjoining wheat field, shooting and bayoneting them with fearful rapidity, and making prisoners of such as would yield. We captured a stand of rebel colors, and retook two guns of Martin's Battery, which had been captured by the enemy. That night the enemy, having been compelled to retire, our regiment encamped on the field, and were soon buried in sleep. In this brief contest we lost one man killed (Sergeant Regan) and eleven were wounded. We buried Regan on the field, with military honors. In passing through the woods the following day, piles of dead rebels could be seen -- some bayoneted, more shot; knapsacks, blankets, and clothing of all kinds lay strewn around. In one heap we counted thirty dead men, and single forms were scattered promiscuously around, while horses were stretched in every attitude of death. This battle is known as that of Hanover Court House, and was our first engagement of any importance after the evacuation of Yorktown, on the peninsular.
On the 29th, the right wing (five companies) of our regiment was ordered on picket duty, and was relieved on the 30th. Our men were very much exhausted, having, for the last two days, eaten but two meals of coffee and army bread, commonly known as "hard tack."
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