The Federals were moving with rapid gait to this strategic point, but Lee having the inner line, was first on the field. It must be borne in mind that since the 4th of May the army had been idle scarcely a day. From that day to the 1st of June it had been one continual battle. If the infantry was not engaged, it was the artillery that kept hammering away, while Stuart's Cavalry hovered around the flanks and rear of the enemy, ready at a moment to swoop like an eagle upon his prey. We were continually under arms, either on a forced march night and day, checking the enemy here, baffling him there, driving back his advance lines, or assaulting his skirmishers. At night the sound of the enemy's drums mingled with that of our own, while the crack of the rifles in the sharpshooters' pits was almost continuous. Early on the morning of June 1st Kershaw's Brigade was aroused and put on the march at a rapid pace in a southeasterly direction.
When nearing the old battlefield of Cold Harbor the men began to snuff the scent of battle. Cartridge boxes were examined, guns unslung, and bayonets fixed, while the ranks were being rapidly closed up. After some delay and confusion, a line of battle was formed along an old roadway. Colonel Keitt had never before handled such a body of troops in the open field, and his pressing orders to find the enemy only added perplexity to his other difficulties. Every man in ranks knew that he was being led by one of the most gifted and gallant men in the South, but every old soldier felt and saw at a glance his inexperience and want of self-control. Colonel Keitt showed no want of aggressiveness and boldness, but he was preparing for battle like in the days of Alva or Turenne, and to cut his way through like a storm center.
As soon as the line was formed the order of advance was given, with never so much as a skirmish line in front. Keitt led his men like a knight of old—mounted upon his superb iron-gray, and looked the [370] embodiment of the true chevalier that he was. Never before in our experience had the brigade been led in deliberate battle by its commander on horseback, and it was perhaps Colonel Keitt's want of experience that induced him to take this fatal step. Across a large old field the brigade swept towards a densely timbered piece of oakland, studded with undergrowth, crowding and swaying in irregular lines, the enemy's skirmishers pounding away at us as we advanced. Colonel Keitt was a fine target for the sharpshooters, and fell before the troops reached the timber, a martyr to the inexorable laws of the army rank. Into the dark recesses of the woods the troops plunged, creeping and crowding their way through the tangled mass of undergrowth, groups seeking shelter behind the larger trees, while the firing was going on from both sides. The enemy meeting our advance in a solid regular column, our broken and disorganized ranks could not cope with them. Some of the regimental officers seeing the disadvantage at which our troops were fighting, ordered a withdrawal to the old roadway in our rear. The dense smoke settling in the woods, shielded our retreat and we returned to our starting point without further molestation than the whizzing of the enemy's bullets overhead. The lines were reformed, and Colonel Davis, of the Fifteenth, assumed command (or perhaps Colonel Henagan).
Colonel William Wallace, of the Second, in speaking of this affair, says:
"Our brigade, under the command of the lamented Colonel Keitt, was sent out to reconnoitre, and came upon the enemy in large force, strongly entrenched. Keitt was killed, and the brigade suffered severely. A few skirmishers thrown out would have accomplished the object of a reconnoissance, and would have saved the loss of many brave men. Our troops finding the enemy entrenched, fell back and began to fortify. Soon our line was established, and the usual skirmishing and sharpshooting commenced. That same evening, being on the extreme left of Kershaw's Division, I received orders to hasten with the Second Regiment to General Kershaw's headquarters. I found the General in a good deal of excitement. He informed me that our lines had been broken on the right of his division, and directed me to hasten there, and if I found a regiment of the enemy flanking his position, to charge them. I hurried to the point indicated, found that [371] our troops to the extent of a brigade and a half had been, driven from their works, and the enemy in possession of them. I determined to charge, however, and succeeded in driving them from their position, with but little loss. Our regiment numbered one hundred and twenty-seven men. The enemy driven out consisted of the Forty-eighth and One Hundred and Twelfth New York. We captured the colors of the Forty-eighth, took some prisoners, and killed many while making their escape from the trenches. We lost in this charge one of our most efficient officers, Captain Ralph Elliott, a brother of General Stephen Elliott. He was a brave soldier and a most estimable gentleman."
Our lines were formed at right angles to that on which we had fought that day, and the soldiers were ordered to fortify. The Second and Third on the left were on an incline leading to a ravine in front of a thicket; the Fifteenth and Twentieth, on the right of the Third, were on the brow of a plateau; in front was the broad old field, through which we had marched to the first advance; the Third Battalion, Eighth, and Seventh, on extreme right, were on the plateau and fronted by a thicket of tall pines.
As nearly all regimental commanders had been killed since the 6th of May, I will give them as they existed on the 1st of June, three weeks later:
| Second | Major Wm. Wallace. | |
| Third | Lieutenant Colonel W.D. Rutherford. | |
| Seventh | Captain James Mitchel. | |
| Eighth | Major E.S. Stackhouse. | |
| Twentieth | Lieutenant Colonel S.M. Boykin. | |
| Third Battalion | Captain Whitener. | |
| Brigade Commander | Colonel James Henagan. |
Grant stretched his lines across our front and began approaching our works with his formidable parallels. He would erect one line of breastworks, then under cover of night, another a hundred or two yards nearer us; thus by the third of June our lines were not one hundred yards apart in places. Our pickets and those of the enemy were between the lines down in their pits, with some brush in front to shield them while on the look out. The least shadow or moving of the branches would be sure to bring a rifle ball singing dangerously near one's head—if he escaped it at all. The service in the pits here for two [372] weeks was the most enormous and fatiguing of any in the service—four men being in a pit for twenty-four hours in the broiling sun during the day, without any protection whatever, and the pit was so small that one could neither sit erect nor lie down.
Early on the morning of the 3rd of June, just three days after our fiasco at Cold Harbor, Grant moved his forces for the assault. This was to be the culmination of his plan to break through Lee's lines or to change his plans of campaign and settle down to a regular siege. Away to our right the battle commenced. Heavy shelling on both sides. Then the musketry began to roll along in a regular wave, coming nearer and nearer as new columns moved to the assault. Now it reaches our front, and the enemy moves steadily upon our works. The cheering on our right told of the repulse by our forces, and had a discouraging effect upon the Federal troops moving against us. As soon as their skirmish line made its appearance, followed by three lines of battle, our pickets in front of us were relieved, but many fell before gaining our breastworks, and those who were not killed had to lie during the day between the most murderous fire in the history of the war, and sad to say, few survived. When near us the first line came with a rush at charge bayonets, and our officers had great difficulty in restraining the men from opening fire too soon. But when close enough, the word "fire" was given, and the men behind the works raised deliberately, resting their guns upon the works, and fired volley after volley into the rushing but disorganized ranks of the enemy. The first line reeled and attempted to fly the field, but were met by the next column, which halted the retreating troops with the bayonet, butts of guns, and officers' sword, until the greater number were turned to the second assault. All this while our sharpshooters and men behind our works were pouring a galling fire into the tangled mass of advancing and retreating troops. The double column, like the first, came with a shout, a huzzah, and a charge. But our men had by this time reloaded their pieces, and were only too eager awaiting the command "fire." But when it did come the result was telling—men falling on top of men, rear rank pushing forward the first rank, only to be swept away like chaff. Our batteries on the hills in rear and those mounted on our [373] infantry line were raking the field, the former with shell and solid shot, the latter with grape and canister. Smoke settling on the ground, soon rendered objects in front scarcely visible, but the steady flashing of the enemy's guns and the hail of bullets over our heads and against our works told plainly enough that the enemy were standing to their work with desperate courage, or were held in hand with a powerful grasp of discipline. The third line of assault had now mingled with the first two, and all lying stretched upon the ground and hidden by the dense smoke, caused the greater number of our bullets to fly over their heads. Our elevated position and the necessity of rising above the works to fire, rendered our breastworks of little real advantage; considering, too, the disparity of numbers, then three lines against our one, and a very weak line at that. The loud Rebel yell heard far to our right told us to be of good cheer, they were holding their own, and repulsing every assault. The conflict in front of Breckenridge's Division was the bloodiest, with the possible exception of that of Mayree's Hill, in front of Fredericksburg, and the "Bloody Angle," of any during the war. Negro troops were huddled together and forced to the charge by white troops—the poor, deluded, unfortunate beings plied with liquor until all their sensibilities were so deadened that death had no horrors. Grant must have learned early in the day the impossibility of breaking Lee's line by direct charge, for by twelve o'clock the firing ceased.