June 8, 1862

June 8, 1862:

Battle of Cross Keys

Virginia

Eastern Theater, Shenandoah Valley Campaign

Stonewall Jackson’s divisions have led the Federals on a merry chase up and down the length of the Valley, and now turn to fight their pursuers. At the south tip of Massanutten Mountain, that spine of mountain in the middle of the Valley, Jackson stops, knowing that he can no longer use that mountain to keep separated the two Federal forces pursuing him: Fremont’s Army of West Virginia (12,000 men), and Shields, with 11,000 men of Gen. Irvin McDowell’s I Corps. The Federal plan, of course, is to catch Jackson between the two pinchers of the Union movement. Jackson makes his headquarters near Port Republic, a small town near where the North and South rivers converge. The Yankees under Shields will have to contest the crossings there to get at Jackson’s lines. Five miles north is the small town of Cross Keys, where the Valley Pike will bring Fremont swinging around the end of Massanutten Mountain. There, Jackson posts Gen. Richard Ewell and five understrength thinned brigades, numbering about 8,500 men, of which only 6,000 will be engaged. Ewell is outnumbered 2 to 1 by Fremont.

Early in the morning, the Confederates are surprised by Col. Samuel Carroll (sent by Shields) with a regiment of Union cavalry dashing across the bridge into Port Republic, and Jackson and his staff are nearly captured. But Carroll overran his infantry support, and he retreats.

Gen. Ewell has placed his brigades with Patton, Steuart, Elzey, Trimble and Walker in line, from west to east. Trimble, however, advances his brigade forward, placing his artillery on Victory Hill, and his brigade out of sight. Fremont sends forward one brigade, under Col. Cluseret, to clear the Rebel pickets, and then deploys the brigadess of Schenk, Milroy, and Stahel from west to east for his advance, with Bohlen and Koltes in reserve. Fremont attempts a massive maneuver, a right wheel, with Stahel moving wide in an arc, and Milroy in support of Stahel’s right flank. As Staheli advances, he does not know of Trimble’s advanced position. As the Union troops move over Victory Hill, Trimble’s regiments stand up and pour several volleys into the blue ranks, which pull back in disorder. Especially the 8^th New York is badly hit, with over 180 shot and 80 captured. Trimble keeps up a steady advance on the his right, outflanking each attempt of the Federals to re-form as they continue to fall back, keeping them off-balance and stacked up so as to prevent reserves from deploying. As Milroy engages the Confederate lines in the center, Stahel’s retreat exposes his flank; Ewell’s massed artillery shreds Milroy’s brigade, and Schenk (on his right) does not move to support him. Fremont has Milroy withdraw as well. Bohlen is moved to stiffen Stahel’s position, but Fremont seems unable to redeem his position. He orders Schenk forward to strike at the Confederate left, but after exchanging fire, the Southern regiments drive the Northern line back. That night, Fremont withdraws to a safer position.

Confederate Victory.

Losses:           Killed       Wounded      Missing      Total

Union              114             443                  127                68

Confederate 42                230                 15                  287



Gen. Isaac TGrimble



—Brig. Gen. James Negley, on a raid with a quick-marching force, engages Rebel troops near Chattanooga, Tennessee, and after an artillery duel, silences the Rebel guns. The Federals sweep into the city with infantry, capturing prisoners and a large amount of livestock. First Battle of Chattanooga. But Negley is deep in enemy territory, and soon withdraws with his small force.

—Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman, Union Army, just outside of Richmond, records in his own ascerbic way the internal politics of the army, and an attempt to have him cashiered out of the army:

8th—I am threatened this morning with dismissal from the service, and my letter of yesterday is held up as a piece of intolerable insolence, and as one good ground for my being dishonorably relieved. Well, I am a Surgeon of a large hospital, in which are about five hundred brave but unfortunate men, who, under their almost superhuman efforts to sustain and defend a government have broken down and sickened. They are from home, from family, from friends; they are suffering for want of the commonest attention; the dead and the dying are lying together for want of proper and sufficient aid to dispose of them otherwise. The living are dying for the want of the necessaries of life, which, in great abundance, are in sight, part owned by the government, part by the rebels; that owned by the latter carefully guarded by men withrawn from our lines, lest some of these suffering sick should, in desperation, crawl from their beds, get in reach of, and take enough to snatch their languishing bodies from suffering, and, perhaps, from death. But worst of all, I have taken the liberty of stating these things plainly, and, as a penalty for my insolence in holding up a mirror to the eyes of a superior officer, I am to be relieved! By me, "this is a consummation devoutly to be wished." Will they dare to try it? We shall see. (I have a mirror which will reflect other sights not less hideous than this. Perhaps they would like to look at it?

　

June 6, 1862

June 6, 1862: Naval Battle

Battle of Memphis

Mississippi Campaign

Under Flag Officer Charles Henry Davis, USN, five "turtles"—river ironclads—drift down the Mississippi, dropping down toward Memphis. He is accompanied by one of the most odd and unwieldy experiements in naval warfare—a small flotilla of gunboats commanded and owned by the Army. Col. Charles Ellet commands four steam rams, jury-rigged vessels designed to sink enemy boats by high-speed ramming. The Confederate flotilla, which had been 14 vessels strong, including the ironclad CSS Arkansas, had been split with several vessels sent downriver to defend Vicksburg, including the Arkansas. Capt. Montgomery of the C.S. Navy now commanded the River Defense Fleet, consisting of 8 "cottonclad" rams, which were merely converted commercial river boats, also designed to ram (as Ellets rams were), and stacked with cotton bales on the decks to protect the crew from rifle fire and maybe slow down cannon shells.

Davis signals Ellet’s rams forward as the Rebel flotilla came into sight, and the USS Queen of the West steams forward with the USS Monarch, commanded by Ellet’s brother. The Queen strikes the CSS General Lovell, which almost immediately sinks, but in turn is struck and disabled by the CSS Beauregard. Capt. Hunt of the Beauregard is encouraged by this success, and aims for the Monarch, too, but Monarch evades Beauregard, and the Rebel ram’s momentum sheers off the paddle wheel of her own comrade, the CSS General Price. By this time, Davis’s slower ironclads are close enough, and open fire on the Confederate steamers. Monarch maneuvers quickly and rams the Beauregard, which just makes it to shore and sinks in shallow waters. The ironclads hammer the CSS Jeff Thompson and CSS General Bragg until their crews drive them aground in shallow water, and they are blown up by their crews. Montgomery’s flagship, the CSS Little Rebel, is driven ashore by the Monarch, and the turtles hammer it and riddle it full of holes. The Little Rebel is abandoned by her crew. The CSS Earl Van Dorn, the fastest ship on the river that day, turns and heads south, downriver, with the Monarch and Switzerland in pursuit; they do not catch her. Col. Ellet is wounded in the knee with a pistol ball—as a result, he dies in hospital by measles, which kills him and 5,000 other soldiers during this war. The Rebels lose nearly 180 men, 7 vessels, and the city of Memphis.

Union Victory.

Battle of Memphis

Union Flotilla:

Gun-boats, U.S. Navy

Ship	Captain
Benton (Flagship)	Flag Officer Charles Henry Davis Lieutenant S. L. Phelps
Louisville	Commander B. M. Dove
Carondelet	Commander Henry Walke
Cairo	Lieutenant N. C. Bryant
St. Louis	Lieutenant Wilson McGunnegle

Rams, U.S. Army River Fleet

Ship	Captain
Queen of the West (Flagship)	Colonel Charles Ellet
Monarch	Lieutenant-Colonel Alfred W. Ellet
Switzerland	First Master David Millard

Confederate Flotilla: River Defense Fleet, C.S. Navy

Vessel	Captain	Fate
Little Rebel (flag-ship)	Captain J.E. Montgomery	Captured
General Bragg	Captain William H. H. Leonard	Captured
General Sterling Price	First Officer J. E. Henthorne	Captured
General Sumter	Captain W. W. Lamb	Captured
General Earl van Dorn	Captain Isaac D. Fulkerston	Escaped
General M. Jeff. Thompson	Captain John H. Burke	Destroyed
General Lovell	Captain James C. Delaney	Sunk
General Beauregard	Captain James Henry Hunt	Sunk

CSS General Bragg

CSS Sterling Price

—In the Shenandoah Valley, Gen. Turner Ashby, leading Jackson’s cavalry, plays a delaying game in front of Harrisonburg. Jackson has beaten Shields to Port Republic, the key crossing point over the Shenandoah River, and he now turns to deal with Fremont’s pursuit. Col. Percy Wyndham, an Englishman commanding a Union cavalry brigade, is captured by Ashby, and the Union horsemen are scattered. Ashby wants to organize a defense south of Harrisonburg, and borrows two infantry regiments. As he is putting them into line, the famous Pennsylvania Bucktail regiment surprises the Rebels, being closer than expected: they pour volleys into the infantry at close range, before they are formed into line, and the Rebels begin to break. Ashby’s horse is killed, but on foot he draws his saber and revolver and tries to rally the 58^th Virginia Infantry with a charge–but no one follows him. Out in the open, Ashby is killed instantly with one bullet. The entire South mourns.

—George Michael Neese, an artilleryman under Ashby’s command, writes in his journal:

Ashby is gone. He has passed the picket line that is posted along the silent river, and the genius of science, the ingenuity of man, earth, and mortality combined cannot invent a countersign that will permit him to return. He is tenting to-night on the eternal camping-ground that lies beyond the mist that hangs over the River of Death, where no more harsh reveilles will disturb his peaceful rest nor sounding charge summon him to the deadly combat again.

June 5, 1862

June 5, 1862: Mississippi River - Union forces plan to launch an assault on Fort Pillow, and only the columns of black smoke rising from burning supplies, gun carriages, ammunition and exploding gun emplacements and bombproofs told them that the fort had been abandoned. Colonel Fitch, in command of a brigade of Indiana troops, sent ashore a party of soldiers to clean up the mess and garrison the fort. Flag Officer Charles Davis and the Navy set their sites on the city of Memphis. A combined Navy and Army river flotilla begins to steam downriver toward Memphis.

—On this date, The New York Times prints the news that Great Britain has concluded with the United States on a new treaty to jointly work on suppressing the African slave trade. Lord Russell, Foreign Minister, announces the cooperative agreement engineered by Sec. of State Seward and Lord Lyons.

—General Robert E. Lee advises the C.S. Seceretary of War, George Randolph, on reinforcing Jackson in the Valley:

HEADQUARTERS,
Near Richmond, Va., June 5, 1862.

Honorable GEORGE W. RANDOLPH,
Secretary of War:


SIR: I wrote to His Excellency the President this morning about re-enforcements for General Jackson. The troops from Georgia you propose sending him I believe form a part of General Lawton's brigade. I wish they were mine, but with the North Carolina battalion, if they can join him, will fill up his ranks. He ought to have more, or these will not materially aid him. His plan is to march to Front Royal and crush Shields. It is his only course, and as he is a good soldier, I expect him to do it.


I telegraphed yesterday to Major Harman, at Staunton, to collect all the troops in that vicinity, raise the community, magnify their numbers, and march down the valley and communicate with Jackson. It will shake Shields and make him pause.
Very respectfully,

R. E. LEE,

General.

June 4, 1862

June 4, 1862: Gen. Fremont and Gen. Shields continue their parallel pursuit of Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley, in the race south, but find their efforts to cut him off frustrated by Ashby’s cavalry, heavy rains, high waters, and burnt bridges. Jackson evades contact at every turn.

—Stephen Minot Weld, of the 18^th Massachusetts Infantry, write home to his father:

Camp near New Bridge, June 4, 1862.

Dear Father, — Here we are still and here we shall probably stay for a few days, until the rain has exhausted itself, and the banks of the Chickahominy have peeped above the surrounding waters. I begin to think we shall have to get an ark built if the rain continues. Every night regularly we have terrible thunder-storms, which last the whole night, and at morning it clears up again. This has happened for four successive nights, and last night it culminated in an easterly storm, which bids fair to last some time. My tent resembles Fortress Monroe in one respect. It has a deep ditch of water all around it, which has lately been pretty full. In one respect this rain is peculiarly unfortunate. It delays our advance to Richmond, where we should have been two days ago, were it not for this dirty little stream of a Chickahominy which the rain swells up so as to make it impassable. The roads to the river are streams of mud and water which no corduroying can remedy, and which dry weather and the sun can alone make passable. . . . The roads here are in a shocking condition. I went out yesterday in a light wagon, foraging, and rode some twelve miles. In many places the horses were up to their bellies in mud, and at times down we would go in the quicksand or in some deceptive hole, covered with water. I got, however, some fresh butter, chickens, strawberries, cherries, onions, lettuce, and eggs. We manage to get on very well in the eating line.

---Private Lewis Warlick, Company B, 11th Regiment North Carolina Troops, stationed near Wilmington, NC, writes home to Laura Cornelia McGimsey, his fianceé:
Camp Davis near Wilmington
June 3rd 1862

Dearest Cornelia

Yours of the 25th Inst. came to hand yesterday which is gladly received and now am about to respond but feel incapable of doing so. You say this is the first time in your life you ever experienced a sad dissappointment and was done by one who you thought would give you the least trouble, that I came off without telling you bye or even tell you I was not going back; now you seem to think that it was intentional on my part that I knew very well when I left you that I did not expect to go back home but to remain.

I did not for a moment suppose that you would even sinuate, muchless to say I had treated you badly; did I not explain to you in my last why it was that I did stay? I think I did. You say I ought to go home and hire a substitute, that I guess would be a hard job for men are so scarce at home I would not know where to get one that would be received in my place, and further more I would not get one if I could from the fact that it shall not be thrown up to my relations in future years that you had an uncle, brother, or that your father or perhaps grandfather would not go into the service when he was called to struggle for independence – was too cowardly, afraid of the Yankees & but hired a substitute to be shot at in my stead never never shall it be said of me or any descendants; death before dishonor. Dear Corrie you very well know that it is hard for me to leave you but I must consider I am doing rightly. I think my first duties are to my country and then to you. I hope I may be spared to see the end of the war and then you and I will marry and try to live a happy life in the future. I pray do not sensure me for treating you badly if I have done so it was not indented and makes me feel badly to think that you blame me for every thing I do that is not according to your views. I have wanted to go into the service ever since last winter but you have refused to let me come. I could have come against your remonstrances but did not want to do any thing to wound your feelings, which I have never done on purpose to my knowledge, but yet you say I have. . . . . I will send the first opportunity, in this I’ll send some stamps. Jackson has been doing good service don’t you think so? I hope he is in Baltimore this morning and then right about march and come on Washington in the rear and burn it up and captured old Abe that would be too good.

This is so badly written I don’t know whether you can read it or not. Write often to you devoted lover.

Lewis

Give my kindest regards to Puss and all my friends.

—Mary Boykin Chestnut of South Carolina records these observations—among others—in her diary:
A battle is said to be raging around Richmond. . . . J.C. [her husband] went off suddenly to Richmond, on business of the military department. . . . Wade Hampton shot in the foot and Johnston Pettigrew killed! . . . Each army burying its dead. That looks like a drawn battle. . . .

Telegrams from Richmond, ordering troops from Charleston. Cannot be sent, for they are attacking Charleston, too—doubtless for this very reason, to prevent reinforcements from being sent from there.

Sat down at my window—beautiful moonlight. Tried hard for pleasant thoughts.
A man began to play on the flute, with piano accompaniment. First "Ever of Thee I Am Fondly Dreaming," then "Long, Long, Weary Day." At first I found it but a complement to the beautiful scene, and it was soothing to my wrought-up nerves.
But von Weber’s last waltz was too much. Suddenly I broke down. Heavens, what a bitter cry. Such floods of tears. The wonder is, there was any of me left. . . .

Lewis Young, Johnston Pettigrew’s A.D.C., says he left his chief mortally wound3ed on the battlefield. Left him? . . . I fancy him—left dying! I wonder what they feel—those who are deserted and left do die of their wounds on the battlefield. Hard lines. . . .

Battles near Richmond. . . . "As a general rule," says Mrs. Gibson, "government people are sanguine, but the son of one high functionary whispered to Mary G . . . ‘Richmond is bound to go up.’ Do you know, only one doctor in Richmond will take pay from wounded soldiers. Oh, the idea now is that we are to be starved out. Shut us in—prolong the agony. It can then have but one end." In her rage she says, "The baboon’s commissary general."
    "Who is the baboon? Lincoln?"
    "Oh, yes. One gets very bitter, with one’s eldest son under his guns. His best friends say the Yankee president is just the ugliest, most uncouth—the nastiest jokes—&c&c.". . .

—Sarah Morgan writes in her journal about the difficulties they face with the Yankee occupation and not being able to find a place to stay, besides Greenwell, their country home outside of Baton Rouge:
. . . Starvation at Greenwell, fever and bullets here, will put an end to us soon enough. There is no refuge for us, no one to consult. Brother, whose judgment we rely on as implicitly as we did on father’s, we hear has gone to New York; there is no one to advise or direct us, for, if he is gone, there is no man in Louisiana whose decision I would blindly abide by. Let us stay and die. We can only die once; we can suffer a thousand deaths with suspense and uncertainty; the shortest is the best. Do you think the few words here can give an idea of our agony and despair? Nothing can express it. I feel a thousand years old to-day. I have shed the bitterest tears to-day that I have shed since father died. I can’t stand it much longer; I’ll give way presently, and I know my heart will break. Shame! Where is God? A fig for your religion, if it only lasts while the sun shines! "Better days are coming" — I can’t! Troops are constantly passing and repassing. They have scoured the country for ten miles out, in search of guerrillas. We are here without servants, clothing, or the bare necessaries of life: suppose they should seize them on the way! . . .

June 3, 1862

 June 3, 1862:  Gen. Beauregard sends orders to Brig. Gen. John Villepigue, commander of the huge fortress known as Fort Pillow, on the Mississippi River, above Memphis, instructing him to abandon the fortress, since the Confederate abandonment of Corinth means that the Yankees can get into the rear of the fort, and Memphis.  Villepigue complies.

---Gen. Rosecrans of the Union Army is directed to pursue Beauregard’s withdrawal south into Mississippi.

---Gen. Robert E. Lee, the new commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, directs his engineer officers to plot out a line for extensive defensive fortifications to defend Richmond.

---Lieutenant Josiah Marshall Favill, a young officer in the 57^th New York Infantry, writes in his journal his recollection of the Battle of Seven Pines:

June 3rd. Thank heaven I am still alive, and have gone through the stirring events of the past four days with credit, and am entirely unharmed; the only loss being my sword hilt, which was truck by a bullet and shattered to pieces, and so here I am again, at my old diary; criticising and having a good time all by myself. No one actually engaged in battle knows much about the details of the fight as a whole, at the time; if he can remember distinctly what happened under his own eye, he does well. The general details must be learnt after the fight. Of course certain officers, as staff and general officers, have greater facilities for observation than regimental officers, but in this particular fight, no one could see twenty yards ahead of him, and so it was all guess work. My account, therefore, of the battle, will not be complete, but to show what the regiment really did, I shall insert the official report of three of the prominent captains, besides giving an account of what I saw myself. . . . arriving there we found the stream swollen to a mighty flood, rushing swiftly down the river. There were no signs of banks, or crossings, all being overflowed, the water coming far up over the meadows on either side. The bridge over which we expected to cross, was completely undermined, and wholly impracticable, and so to get across we must ford the stream. The general gave the order, and our brigade led the way fearlessly stepping into the seething waters and feeling their way across. The current was so strong that it was all the men could do to hold their feet, particularly in the middle of the stream, where the water reached their hips, and made it necessary for them to hold their arms and ammunition, high above their heads; every now and then, a misstep sent some unfortunate, over head and ears, . . . Here we found a series of deep ditches, running parallel to the river, intended ordinarily, to drain the marshy banks, but now entirely hidden from view by the rising waters; we could only locate them by somebody suddenly dropping out of sight, occasionally whole ranks at a time; as the current was very swift, the danger was considerable, not to mention the discomfort. File after file bobbed under water, as they reached these hidden ditches, and were sometimes extricated with difficulty. My gallant old friend, Captain Kirk, stepping out at the head of his company, slipped into one of them, and although six feet tall, went entirely out of sight. His men soon yanked him out, . . .  inwardly rejoicing I was not as they, on foot, when Horrors! I was floundering in the water, paddling away for dear life to keep myself from drowning, while floating down the current. My horse had stepped into one of these execrable ditches, and stumbled head over heels. Some of the fellows pulled me out, while others caught my horse, laughing; thinking it a great joke, as I did myself, after I got the water out of my mouth, and boots; but it was beastly uncomfortable on horseback, with boots and pockets full of water, and if I had not had so much to do, should probably have been very wretched. . . . We  . . . did our best to get up before dark, but the roads were so bad, and the men so handicapped by their wet clothes, that we did not reach the battlefield until after dark, when the action for the day was over. Just before reaching Fair Oaks, we passed over a piece of scrub oak, strewn with dead and wounded men, and heard from the dark recesses of the woods the cries of wounded men calling for help. We hurried forward, coming out near a railroad track, marched across a large open field, and formed in line of battle, facing southward. This field had been the battle ground, stubbornly held till after dark by our men. There were many dead and wounded scattered about, and several parties of hospital attendants were searching the field for wounded, carrying lanterns, which looked like will-o-the-wisps, flitting here, and there, over the vast dark space.

. . . after a few minutes’ anxious watching, we heard the voices of rebel officers, forming their troops in front of us for the attack, and also the crackling of boughs, and noise made by the men in forming; we peered long and anxiously into the dark, heavy woods, hoping to see them before opening fire, when suddenly, without any warning, a heavy musketry fire opened all along the enemy’s line. The noise was tremendous; and the bullets whistled about our ears like hailstones, tearing branches, twigs, and leaves from the trees. The horses reared and plunged, and the center and left of the regiment were thrown into some confusion, but most of the men stood their ground, and opened fire. I rode along the line towards the right close behind the men, encouraging them to keep closed up, and blaze away. Captains McKay and Kirk were at once conspicuous for activity, and in a few minutes, the line was straightened out, and delivering an effective fire. I noticed the enemy’s aim was high, and cautioned the men to aim low. The firing rolled in long continuous volume, now slacking, now increasing, until it seemed as if pandemonium had broken loose, and all the guns in the world were going off at once. With all the frightful racket, I did not fail to notice how few men were being hit, and told the men to take advantage of the little danger, and fire to some purpose. The enemy did not advance, and in the course of half an hour or so, which, of course, seemed twice as long, slackened their fire, and apparently withdrew; our wounded were removed, and the line reformed, or rather, straightened out, and then the colonel ordered the men to lie down and open fire the instant they saw anything in front. . . .  It was not long before a deafening volley was fired into us again, at apparently a greater distance than the first attack. Sergeant Stuart, the color bearer, and Lieutenant Folger and several men were killed by this volley, the rebels firing much lower than before. They advanced after the first volley, and came within thirty yards of us, when they received a magnificent fire, steady, effective, and determined; our fellows had no idea of giving way this time, and stood their ground; the trees were riddled, and a heavy shower of branches and leaves continuously fell upon our heads. The air, in fact, seemed full of bullets, and yet so few were hurt we began to think they could not hit us. While the second attack was at its height, McKay and I were on the right, and noticed that the rebel line did not extend as far as ours, which I reported to the colonel, who immediately directed us to wheel the two right companies inward, and sweep the line in front, taking the enemy in flank. We quickly made the movement, French watching us. The moment the men opened fire, the rebels broke and ran, getting away as fast as they could; General Richardson came up just at this time, and immediately ordered the whole brigade out of the woods, so the batteries could sweep it clear with canister and shell; we filed out in quick time, forming behind the guns, which opened at once, filling the woods with bursting shells and showers of iron hail. It was a dreadful thing for the wounded men, who were unable to move, but seemed to be a necessary evil. . . .

Burying the dead in the aftermath of Battle of Seven Pines

June 2, 1862

June 2, 1862:  Shenandoah Campaign - On the night of June 1, Jackson starts his troops on the road, heading south at a quick pace, heading up the Shenandoah Valley in order to escape the Federal dragnet trying to scoop him up.  Fremont’s men finally kick into motion, nipping at the Rebels’ heels.  Gen. Steuart’s two cavalry regiments do poorly at holding back the Yankee attacks at the Rebel rearguard, so Jackson relieves Steuart of command and transfers the troops to Gen. Ashby’s command.  Ashby fights a skillful delaying battle as the troops of both armies slog on through the ankle-deep mud of the Valley Pike.  On a parallel road, Gen. Shields and his Union division push south along the Luray Valley, hoping to cut off Jackson at New Market, but finds that the bridges across the Shenandoah River have been destroyed by Rebel cavalry. 

Gen. Turner Ashby, CSA

---Judith White McGuire of Richmond writes in her journal of the mass of wounded flooding in to Richmond after the Battle of Seven Pines:

2d.—The battle continued yesterday near the field of the day before. We gained the day! For this victory we are most thankful. The enemy were repulsed with fearful loss; but our loss was great. The wounded were brought until a late hour last night, and to-day the hospitals have been crowded with ladies, offering their services to nurse, and the streets are filled with servants darting about, with waiters covered with snowy napkins, carrying refreshments of all kinds to the wounded. Many of the sick, wounded, and weary are in private houses. The roar of the cannon has ceased. Can we hope that the enemy will now retire? General Pettigrew is missing—it is thought captured. So many others “missing,” never, never to be found! Oh, Lord, how long! How long are we to be a prey to the most heartless of foes? Thousands are slain, and yet we seem no nearer the end than when we began!!

---Oliver Willcox Norton, a Union private in the 83^rd Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, writes in a letter home an interesting vignette of soldier life as he and his comrades, after a battle, forage items left by Rebels on the fields in the aftermath of battle:

Secesh knapsacks were scattered everywhere, and our boys, if they could have carried away the things, would have got a good many comforts, but we could not. We got a good many love letters, etc., bowie knives and pistols, and I got a great bowie but I threw it away, I couldn’t carry it. I send you a letter that I got in a knapsack, and a secesh stamp. The letter is an excellent specimen of secesh literature and love. I almost wish I had as fond a sweetheart.

Union troops clean up the battlefield in the aftermath of Seven Pines

June 1, 1862

June 1, 1862:

Battle of Seven Pines

(or Fair Oaks)

Virginia

Eastern Theater, Peninsula Campaign

Day 2In the morning, Gen. G.W. Smith, now in command of the Army of Northern Virginia, orders the attacks to resume. In the Union line, Gen. Sedgwick’s division has arrived from north of the Chickahominy to reinforce their comrades, and he and Couch form the right flank. On the left flank is principally Richardson’s division, at right angles to Sedgwick. Longstreet launches the attacks against the Union left, keeping Hill’s battered division in reserve, and sending in Richard Anderson’s division to hit Richardson. Hooker’s division comes up to reinforce Richardson, and Longstreet and Huger’s troops waste themselves against this defense, and finally retreat in defeat. Gen. Smith holds more troops in reserve but never puts them into the battle. This second day is more of a win for the Union, but combined with Hill’s brilliant attacks of the preceding day, most historians call this a draw or stalemate. A number of commanders on both sides, including Hampton, Pettigrew, and Howard, are wounded in this battle.

Battle of Seven Pines, Day 2

Stalemate
Losses:    Killed     Wounded     Missing     Total
U.S.             790         3,594             647               5,031
C.S.             980         4,749             405              6,134

However, the most significant result of this battle is that Pres. Davis, after one day of command, takes away command of the army from Gen. G. W. Smith and gives it to Robert E. Lee.

Federal artillery position near Fair Oaks

—Situation, Shenandoah Valley: Jackson, with about 16,000 men, is in Strasburg, which sits astride the Valley Pike; he arrived yesterday, after a hard march. He works at getting all of his troops through, and his supply train. Gen. Fremont, with about 12,000 Federals, was 4 miles west of Strasburg, having lost the race to get there first; Gen. Shields is about 10 miles east of Strasburg with 11,000 Federals, and is waiting for Gen. Ord’s division (now commanded by Ricketts) to come up and reinforce him. (Gen. McDowell, who commands Shields and Ricketts, finally arrives at Front Royal.) Gen. Banks is supposed to be pursuing Jackson from the north, with his 5,000 men, but in fact Banks is still safely in Williamsport, Maryland. Jackson sends Ewell with his division to form a line of battle facing west, to keep Fremont from getting close; Union skirmishers engage the Confederate skirmishers, and artillery from both sides begin to duel—but Fremont seems reluctant to send any attack forward. Ewell knows that Fremont outnumbers him nearly 2 to 1; Fremont thinks that Ewell outnumbers him, so neither side attempts an attack. Meanwhile, Shields sends some troops south down the Luray Valley, to get behind Jackson.