After driving away remnants of the 4th Alabama from the Stone House, Col. Henry Slocum’s 27th New York was showered by shells from Imboden’s four smoothbores on Henry Hill. This was the first concentrated fire the 27th had experienced. In an effort to avoid the worst of the iron rain, the regiment veered left, moving east along the Warrenton Turnpike on a collision course with Hampton’s Confederates. “We were immediately attacked on our right flank by a large force who approached by a ravine under cover of a thick growth of bushes,” wrote one Federal. Volleys from the South Carolinians were followed by a charge toward the turnpike, about 200 yards distant. When Hampton’s men reached the road cut they fell to their knees and fired a ragged but effective volley into the New Yorkers’ right flank (No. 1 on map).
Although reports conflict, it seems men from the 7th Georgia—which was not disorganized like the battered 8th Georgia—approached the 27th New York’s left and rear as the regiment battled Hampton’s Legion in front. The Georgians were permitted to march within almost shouting distance because the New Yorkers believed they were Northern troops. This early in the war, many Federal regiments were dressed in gray uniforms, and some Southerners wore blue. When the Georgians began firing into their ranks, the New Yorkers thought it was friendly fire from the 8th New York. They quickly learned their mistake when the unknown unit’s flag unfurled into a Southern banner and a killing volley followed. The New Yorkers exchanged fire with the South Carolinians (and likely the Georgians as well). Hampton lost another horse to hostile fire in the exchange, but jumped up and continued encouraging his men to press ahead. The 27th New York was on the verge of being trapped and destroyed. The 27th’s commander, Col. Slocum, wisely pulled back his regiment northward to Buck Hill. Slocum slipped his men out of the jaws of a potentially catastrophic defeat, but suffered a thigh wound during the withdrawal. The New Yorkers rallied near the top of the high ground, turned, and returned the fire.1
Continuing his piecemeal thrust at the enemy, Lt. Averell ordered the 8th New York and 14th Brooklyn toward the intersection to sweep the enemy off Henry Hill. “They went down the hill in fine style,” Averell recalled. When they reached the turnpike, a junior officer ordered the New Yorkers to the left to take on Hampton (No. 2 on map). Newly arriving Southern guns on Henry Hill soon found the range, and with infantry near the Robinson house blew apart the New Yorkers. The small arms fire and shelling drove the Federals back, but not before they forced Hampton’s men to also fall back south along the farm lane. The South Carolinians retreated 100 yards and reformed along a fence running parallel to the path, but at a right angle to their former position (No. 3 on map). The 7th Georgia was also forced back up Henry Hill. The short but bruising fight with Hampton’s men demoralized the 8th New Yorkers. They “broke and never afterwards formed to any extent,” reported Averell.2
Just as Evans’ men had done at Matthews Hill, Hampton’s South Carolinians slowed down the Federal advance for about one hour. Their stand near the turnpike discouraged a full-scale advance against Henry Hill. “[We] had an awful fight, the new and old body of the enemy crossing fire upon us,” South Carolina Captain James Conner wrote to his mother. “It was terrible, and the men were falling all around … it was the only time in the day the men looked dashed.” Hampton pulled back again, this time behind the Robinson house. There, they encountered troops from Bee’s and Bartow’s brigades who, according to one South Carolinian, “said that our fight at the Warrenton Turnpike had saved the army, but just how we did not know.”
Hampton’s fight with Porter’s Federals also bought time for Bee, Bartow, and Evans to reform behind Henry Hill. “[W]e reformed & stopped in a most bewildered state, without the slightest notion of what was expected of us,” remembered a confused Captain Connor. Many of the officers gave speeches: “Strike for the green graves of your sires … and your native land!” yelled an Alabama captain. The rattled soldiers probably did not pay much mind to their officers, and probably heard very little. Those with the presence of mind to look to the south behind them could see a long line of fresh Virginia troops approaching.3