The latter had expected to capture the town by surprise, a coup de main. He was foiled by Beauregard and Wise and some brave militia and home guards. They defended the position until succor came, by the head of Lee's column hastening to the rescue. Beauregard's conduct on this occasion was admirable, and much was owing to him, for which I doubt if full acknowledgment has been made.
According to official returns the Union losses since May 5th had been 60,700 killed, wounded and missing—3,000 more than Lee numbered at the opening of the campaign. Grant had received in reinforcements 51,000 muskets, including Smith's four brigades. Lee's were 14,000.
From Wilderness to Cold Harbor: Lee's aggregate, 78,400; Grant's aggregate, 192,600.
I place here an incident less dismal than the reflections brought up by the foregoing gruesome figures.
At one of the small rivers in the sharp campaign just ended we were in line on the south side inviting battle. The enemy were on the other side, but with no intention of crossing. He contented himself with abundant artillery practise, and made everything uncomfortable in range of his shell. We found no need of making reply and saved our ammunition. Our corps headquarters had made halt for the time in a beautiful grove, where stood a large, old-fashioned Virginia residence, a great house of wooden framing, with two immense brick chimneys at each gable, the chimneys stretching far above the roof apex.
The shelling was so frequent and the small fragments flying everywhere so annoying that most of us got under the lee of a gable. We knew it would not resist a shell, but could fend off the offensive fragments. General Anderson was coolly walking about the grove, sucking his big pipe, and warned us that if a shell struck one of the chimneys there might be trouble. We were perhaps two dozen sitting there, officers, orderlies, and some horses held by the bridle. Anderson was right. A crash, a bursting roar, and down came bricks and mortar on those not quick enough to skip out of the way. I myself lost no time, and was unhurt, as also were the others of the staff. But two of the couriers had a bad time of it. Hardy, my Chickamauga man, and Tucker, from Milledgeville, had, one a broken leg, the other a fractured arm. Both were put into an ambulance and, cursing and reviling at being wounded by loose brick-bats instead of honorable bullets, were carried to the rear. The laugh was decidedly on us.
A loss, personal to me as well as to the army, happened during the marches, in which there was sometimes severe fighting by parts of the armies not mentioned in the narrative. General Early, a most enterprising, resourceful officer, was much given to forced reconnaissances. They usually seemed to me unnecessary and wasted men by death and wounds. Their intention was to ascertain accurately the positive strength and morale of the enemy, and generally a brigade was told off for the service. It appeared to me that the information could be gathered by scouts and picked men without sacrificing the ranks, but General Early thought differently. On one of these movements the Virginia brigade of Pegram (who was absent, wounded) was commanded by Col. Edward Willis, of the Twelfth Georgia Infantry. His was a fine character. Just from West Point at the outbreak of the war, he threw himself into the army with ardor, became colonel of the fine Twelfth Georgia Infantry, worthily succeeding Ed. Johnson, and was about to be made brigadier-general when ordered to the reconnaissance in force. He was shot down, mortally wounded—the gallant, fair-headed, white-skinned, slight young colonel (he was very young), valiantly leading the brigade.
Our position was at some distance, but I was immediately sent for. Our families had long been neighbors and friends in Savannah, and young Willis was soon to be one of us by a still closer tie. I was quickly by his side. He died on my arm, but not before whispering loving messages for home and to that one he bore on his brave heart to its last beat. The remains of this brilliant young soldier were sent home, accompanied by a guard of honor picked from the brigade by his division commander.
Major-General Hampton succeeded Stuart in command of the cavalry. This officer had served from the very beginning of the war with high distinction, had proved himself a careful, vigilant, as well as enterprising cavalry leader, and possessed the confidence of the cavalry troops. General Lee gave him his own without reservation and his hearty support in every situation.
General Hampton was of fine presence, a bold horseman, a swordsman, and of the most undaunted courage. He had received several wounds, but was now in robust health.