CHAPTER XXXII
From Cold Harbor to Petersburg.
The field in the front at Cold Harbor where those deadly assaults had been made beggars description. Men lay in places like hogs in a pen—some side by side, across each other, some two deep, while others with their legs lying across the head and body of their dead comrades. Calls all night long could be heard coming from the wounded and dying, and one could not sleep for the sickening sound "W—a—t—e—r" ever sounding and echoing in his ears. Ever and anon a heart-rending wail as coming from some lost spirit disturbed the hushed stillness of the night. There were always incentives for some of the bolder spirits, whose love of adventure or love of gain impelled them, to visit the battlefield before the burial detail had reached it, as many crisp five-dollar greenbacks or even hundred-dollar interest-bearing United States bonds could be found in the pockets of the fallen Federal either as a part of his wages or the proceeds of his bounty. The Federal Government was very lavish in giving recruits this bounty as an inducement to fill the depleted ranks of "Grant the Butcher." Tom Paysinger, of the Third, who had been detailed as a scout to General Longstreet, was a master hand at foraging upon the battlefield. [376] Whether to gain information or to replenish his purse is not known, but be that as it may, the night after the battle he crept quietly through our lines and in the stillness and darkness he made his way among the dead and wounded, searching the pockets of those he found. He came upon one who was lying face downward and whom he took to be beyond the pale of resistance, and proceeded to rifle his pockets. After gathering a few trifles he began crawling on his hands and knees towards another victim. When about ten steps distant the wounded Federal, for such it proved to be, raised himself on his elbow, grasped the gun that was lying beside him, but unknown to Paysinger, and called out, "You d——n grave robber, take that," and bang! went a shot at his retreating form. He then quietly resumed his recumbent position. The bullet struck Paysinger in the thigh and ranging upwards lodged in his hip, causing him to be a cripple for several long months. It is needless to say Paysinger left the field. He said afterwards he "would have turned and cut the rascal's throat, but he was afraid he was only 'possuming' and might brain him with the butt of his gun."
We remained in our position for several days and were greatly annoyed by the shells thrown by mortars or cannon mounted as such, which were continually bursting overhead or dropping in our works. The sharpshooters with globe-sighted rifles would watch through the brush in front of their rifle pits and as soon as a head was thoughtlessly raised either from our pits, which were now not more than fifty yards apart, or our breastwork, "crack!" went a rifle, a dull thud, and one of our men lay dead. It is astonishing how apt soldiers are in avoiding danger or warding it off, and what obstacles they can overcome, what work they can accomplish and with so few and ill assortment of tools when the necessity arises. To guard against the shells that were continually dropping in our midst or outside of our works, the soldiers began burrowing like rabbits in rear of our earthworks and building covered ways from their breastwork to the ground below. In a few days men could go the length of a regiment without being exposed in the least, crawling along the tunnels all dug with bayonets, knives, and a few wornout shovels. At some of these angles the passer-by would be exposed, and in going from one opening to another, only taking the fraction of a second to accomplish, a [377] bullet would come whizzing from some unseen source, either to the right or left. As soon as one of these openings under a covered way would be darkened by some one passing, away a bullet would come singing in the aperture, generally striking the soldier passing through. So annoying and dangerous had the practice become of shooting in our works from an unseen source that a detail of ten or twenty men was sent out under Lieutenant D.J. Griffith, of the Fifteenth, to see if the concealed enemy might not be located and an end put to the annoyance. Griffith and his men crept along cautiously in the underbrush, while some of our men would wave a blanket across the exposed places in the breastwork to draw the Federal fire, while Griffith and his detail kept a sharp lookout. It was not long before they discovered the hidden "Yank" perched in the top of a tall gum tree, his rifle resting in the fork of a limb. Griffith got as close as he well could without danger of being detected by some one under the tree. When all was ready they sighted their rifles at the fellow up the tree and waited his next fire. When it did come I expect that Yankee and his comrades below were the worst surprised of any throughout the war; for no sooner had his gun flashed than ten rifles rang out in answer and the fellow fell headlong to the ground, a distance of fifty feet or more. Beating the air with his hands and feet, grasping at everything within sight or reach, his body rolling and tumbling among the limbs of the tree, his head at times up, at others down, till at last he strikes the earth, and with a terrible rebound in the soft spongy needles Mr. "Yank" lies still, while Griffith and his men take to their heels. It was not known positively whether he was killed or not, but one thing Lieutenant Griffith and his men were sure of—one Yankee, at least, had been given a long ride in midair.
After Grant's repulse at Cold Harbor he gave up all hopes of reaching Richmond by direct assault and began his memorable change of base. Crossing the James River at night he undertook the capture of Petersburg by surprise. It appears from contemporaneous history that owing to some inexcusable blunders on our part Grant came very near accomplishing his designs.
To better understand the campaign around Petersburg it is necessary to take the reader back a little way. Simultaneous with Grant's advance [378] on the Rapidan an army of thirty thousand under the Union General B.F. Butler was making its way up the James River and threatening Petersburg. It was well known that Richmond would be no longer tenable should the latter place fall. Beauregard was commanding all of North Carolina and Virginia on the south side of the James River, but his forces were so small and so widely scattered that they promised little protection. When Lee and his veterans were holding back Grant and the Union Army at the Wilderness, Brocks Cross Roads, and Spottsylvania C.H., Beauregard with a handful of veterans and a few State troops was "bottling up Butler" on the James. What Kershaw had been to Lee at the Wilderness, McGowan at Spottsylvania, General Hagood was to General Beauregard on the south side around Petersburg. General Beauregard does not hesitate to acknowledge what obligations he was under to the brave General Hagood and his gallant band of South Carolinians at the most critical moments during the campaign, and it is unquestioned that had not General Hagood come up at this opportune moment, Petersburg would have fallen a year before it did.
General Beauregard fought some splendid battles on the south side, and if they had not been overshadowed by the magnitude of Lee's from the Wilderness to the James, they would have ranked in all probability as among the greatest of the war. But from one cause and then another during the whole campaign Beauregard was robbed of his legitimate fruits of battle.