First in the foremost line."
After this encounter we were granted a short respite until the 21st, when our cavalry was routed by the enemy at Yellow Tavern, and our brigade was ordered to their support. When we reached there, we found in slowly retiring before the enemy in a dense woods. Gen. Cooke at once ordered forward his sharpshooters, and very soon a spirited fight began. Our regiment was thrown into line and we began to press them back. As they had been driving our cavalry they were loth to retire, and fought us obstinately. Cooke then ordered his whole brigade into line. They, seeing now that they could not cope with us in fair fight, set fire to the woods and leaves in our front, and we were forced to advance through fire and smoke, our men suffering terribly from the heat, the day, besides, being exceedingly hot. We had been in too many hot places to be afraid of fire, so we made at them with a yell, and soon had their lines broken and in rapid retreat, with our cavalry—who had recovered—in pursuit of them. Our loss was not so great, but the men experienced great thirst, and many were scorched by the fires; in some instances the cartridges were exploded in their boxes.
About the 25th Gen. Butler, having pontooned the James River at Deep Bottom, crossed a heavy force to the north side. Our brigade was ordered to reconnoitre this force, and some fighting ensued. We found them in force and strongly fortified, and an attack was deemed inadvisable, so we were withdrawn and ordered to Petersburg. We reached Petersburg on the 1st of July, and were placed on the lines a short distance from the city, to the left of the Weldon Railroad.
On the 15th of July, private Daniel W. McConnell was appointed Orderly Sergeant.
We remained near Petersburg comparatively quiet until the 26th of July, when Grant crossed another corps at Deep Bottom, to attack our pontoons at Drury's Bluff, and prevent Lee from sending re-enforcements to the north side of the river. Our brigade was ordered back in haste to this point, and, although the enemy had gained some partial success, we drove him back and defeated the expedition. As events afterwards proved, these movements were only feints to draw our troops from Petersburg to better enable Grant to carry out his plans to make a breach in our lines in front of Petersburg. Uniform failure had now rendered him desperate, and Grant concluded the only wise thing now to do, was to "blow us up." Burnside was duly appointed "blower."
CHAPTER XIX.
On the night of the 28th, Hancock's corps was secretly withdrawn from the north side, and every preparation was made for the great forthcoming event.
Grant had constructed a mine under one of our forts in front of Petersburg, the main gallery of which was five hundred and twenty-two feet in length, with eight side galleries; in each of these galleries was placed about fourteen hundred pounds of powder. Gen. Burnside, in charge of this new feature of warfare, was to explode the "infernal machine," and walk into Petersburg with his colored troops, supposedly unmolested.
About daylight on the morning of the 30th, this famous mine—afterwards known as the "crater"—was exploded with a great noise, as of a "rushing mighty wind, and there was a great earthquake, and the sun became black." About one hundred of our men and three or four guns were moved out of their places into the air, and when the smoke cleared away an opening about one hundred and fifty feet long, sixty feet wide, and thirty feet deep appeared in place of our earthworks. Simultaneously with this explosion the enemy opened a terrific fire along their whole front, and the white division selected for this occasion came slowly through the abattis up to this hole, where they were met by a merciless fire from our artillery, enfilading them right and left, with our infantry in their front. They were badly led, and, being demoralized, they faltered and sought shelter in the crater. Next came the "nigger" division, and the "colored troops fought bravely," until the withering fire from our guns created a panic, when into the crater pell-mell they rushed, white and black, a disordered, mangled, quivering mass; our shot, shells, balls, and canister creating a perfect carnival of death. Some few endeavored to leave the crater and run back, but they were immediately shot down. Those who witnessed the scene say it was beyond the power of words to describe. Our lines were soon re-established, and our brigade was sent to relieve the troops holding the lines where the mine was sprung. Thus ended this "miserable affair."
The space between the two lines, as now formed, was so close as to endanger any exposure whatever, and we had to hug our earthworks very closely. Our company was in line immediately at the crater. In our front, and almost under our noses, lay the bloated, festering bodies of their dead, exposed to the scorching rays of a July sun. To make our situation still more interesting, it was supposed that the battery on our right was also mined; and we were daily and nightly in fear of another explosion, and to be landed—no telling where. We remained in this position for a week, when Grant asked for a truce to bury his dead. We were then moved a short distance to our right, where we remained until about the middle of August. While on these lines, we literally lived under the ground. We had to pass to and from the front in covered ways; our rations were all prepared in the rear, and sent to us. We were compelled to sleep in bomb-proofs to avoid their mortar shells, with which they enlivened the scene at night.