near White House. At half-past five, after an hour's search, we rejoined the brigade near Tunstall's Station.

We rested during the forenoon while the corps was concentrating, and were joined by Captain Smith, and the picket detail. At one o'clock that afternoon we resumed our march in a southerly direction, through forest and swamps and across bottom lands. The march was very rapid and well conducted. We halted at seven o'clock for supper, resumed the march at eight, and bivouacked at halfpast twelve about three miles from the Chickahominy. Early on the 14th the command was in motion. At nine o'clock we crossed the Chickahominy, at Jones' bridge, twenty miles from Richmond. We halted on its banks until noon, when the march southward was resumed, through a splendid farming country. The elegant mansions and welltilled lands presented a beautiful contrast to the battlescarred and fortified fields of Cold Harbor. The noble forests had not yielded to the axes of the engineers, and the blight and desolation of war were nowhere visible. We marched by way of Charles City cross-roads and court-house, and halted for supper on the splendid plantation once the home of ex-President Tyler.

At sunset we were again on the road. At half-past eight we passed the camps of the Sixth Corps, and the first and third divisions of the Ninth. The men were gathered in groups around piles of blazing rails, busily cooking their evening meal; the bands were discoursing patriotic music, and the whole scene was one of the most striking and magnificent of war. At half-past nine we went into bivouac on the bank of the historic James, at a point about three miles below Wilcox's wharf, having made a laborious and painful, yet most successful, march of fifty-five miles in less than forty-eight hours.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE MOVEMENT ON PETERSBURG.

THE movement of the army to the James was one of the most brilliant and successful of the war. It is one of the few of Grant's manoeuvres which commands the unanimous approval of his enemies and severest critics. Swinton, in his 'Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac," says: "The resolution to cross the James necessitated the total abandonment of that system of action which aimed, while operating against the enemy offensively, to directly defend the national. capital. Moreover the operation was in itself one of great delicacy, a change of base being pronounced by Napoleon the foremost master of war, the ablest manœuvre taught by military art.' General Grant manifested as much moral firmness in adopting a line of action which he

felt prescribed by the highest military considerations, as he showed ability in executing this difficult operation. The measure itself was not only entirely conformable to the true principles of war, but its execution reflects high credit on the commander, and merits the closest study."

The 15th of June was passed by our brigade quietly in camp, awaiting the completion of the pontoon bridge, from Douthard's to Windmill Point, a distance of 2,200 feet, across a river navigable by the largest ships. At sunset we were ordered to draw four days' rations and be in readiness to move at short notice. At eight o'clock marching orders were received, and at nine o'clock we crossed on the pontoon bridge. The river was filled with vessels of every kind, at anchor, transports, steamers, gunboats, and presented a

most spirited scene. Upon reaching the southern bank the march was prosecuted with great vigor; and as only two brief halts were made that night it proved to be one of the most wearisome of the campaign. Soon after daylight we halted near Prince George Court-House, for an hour, to make coffee. While engaged in that pleasant and refreshing task our ears were saluted by the sound of distant cannonading in the direction of Petersburg. This was a signal that our rest was to be of short duration.

It is no part of our purpose to criticise, or even narrate, the chapter of mishaps and blunders which attended the movement for the capture of Petersburg. It is sufficient to state that the golden opportunity was now passing, the city which was defended by the militia had not been captured, and the army of the Potomac was being hurried forward, soon to cope once more with its old opponent, the veterans of the army of Northern Virginia.

At half-past eight the march was resumed in the direction of Petersburg. At ten o'clock we passed the line of earthworks which constituted the outer defences of the city, which were captured the day previous by the troops of the Eighteenth Corps. At one o'clock we came up with the advanced divisions of our own corps, already formed in line of battle on the left of the Second Corps. At three o'clock we were put in position on the extreme left, in the edge of a pine forest. Directly in front, across an open plain about half a mile in extent, stood the strong intrenchments of the enemy. Their outposts were well advanced, and heavy skirmishing was kept up on the right, and soon extended along the entire line. We were ordered to attack at six o'clock. At that hour the artillery opened, and the line moved forward across the plain. The Second Brigade supported the attack made by Barlow's Division of the Second Corps. Our regiment and the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania were held in reserve, to cover and protect the left flank, and extend the line should it be necessary. The advance was most gallant and determined,

but was met by a fire of musketry and artillery which was fearfully effective. The ground was quickly traversed, and Barlow's division and Griffin's brigade succeeded in effecting a lodgment in some rifle-pits, and this was the only important result accomplished. Night came down upon the bloody plain, but did not put an end to the terrible conflict, for the enemy made several ineffectual attempts to regain the works he had lost. The musketry fire was terrific at times, and the battle throughout was fierce and bloody. Some ground was gained on the right, but no impression was made on the left. It was, however, determined to renew the assault at daylight, and the Ninth Corps was selected to make the attack.

After the assault on the 15th, which resulted in the capture of a portion of his line, the enemy constructed a new line in rear, connecting the enclosed works and redoubts of the old line still in his possession, which were on our left. The principal work, known as the Shand House redoubt, was very strong, and able to resist a most determined assault. It was nearly half a mile in front of his new main line, projected as a salient. The only promise of successful assault seemed to lie in capturing the line of breastworks connecting this redoubt with those on the left. The portion of the rebel lines in our front extended along the crest of a deep and narrow ravine near the Shand house. The position was very strong, and defended, as we afterwards learned, by five Tennessee regiments, composing the Third Brigade of Bushrod Johnson's Division of Infantry, supporting a battery of artillery. On our left two guns in a redoubt completely enfiladed the line of approach. The position seemed impregnable, and failure would doubtless be attended with fearful loss of life. A successful assault, however, would force the enemy to abandon the redoubts; and General Burnside believed the works could be stormed if the troops could be formed in the ravine without the knowledge of the enemy.

To General Potter, the gallant commander of the Second Division, was this most arduous and desperate task assigned. He immediately prepared for its execution. In order to reach the position it was necessary to make a wide detour to the right. This of itself was a most difficult matter. The slashing of pine timber presented a serious obstacle, and the ground was full of gullies and ravines, and in moving over them the command was much scattered. The enemy kept up an annoying and incessant picket fire, which increased the difficulties of the movement. Aware that a hazardous undertaking was being executed, the men maintained the utmost quiet, and obeyed every order with promptness and precision.

At length, nearly an hour past midnight, the column reached the head of the ravine, and the hungry and thoroughly exhausted men threw themselves on the ground, to gain, if possible an hour's rest. They had enjoyed no rest for more than forty-eight hours, and realized full well the terrible business the returning light would bring. Many in the brief half of that summer night closed their eyes in what proved to be their last earthly sleep. Many, doubtless, saw in dreams for the last time the faces of the dear ones at home. But all did not sleep. But all did not sleep. These thought of the past, of their childhood and homes, of the day whose dawn they were awaiting, a day to receive its second baptism of patriot's blood! And who shall say that these true souls were not filled with the same exalted devotion to Freedom and Country which animated the heroes of Bunker Hill as they toiled on that memorable night of June, 1775?

But to sleeping and waking, the night waned apace. The moon which had been shining brightly now cast long shadows, and darkness settled in the ravines. The rebel pickets in our front grew drowsy, and through weariness ceased their firing. No sounds were heard save the distant rumble of wagons and artillery, the trickling of the brook in the ravine, and the subdued breathing of the worn and weary men.