Camp started to look more organized by Wednesday, May 7. The chaos immediately following Monday’s battle before Fort Magruder was over, and Col. Nelson Taylor’s men began sorting things out. Privates, corporals, and sergeants seemed to do better, and many were close to being their old selves. Able to put the loss of a friend or two behind them, many laughed and joked. After all, this was a soldier’s lot. But the officers were still in shock. Men whom they had asked to join them a few months before now lay dead, wounded, or counted among the missing. Some companies had lost but a few men, while others were down nearly half their number. Yet the routine of army life, the parades, the fatigue details, the roll calls, went on.
As early as 3:00 a.m. the morning after battle, Tuesday the 6th, forward scouts began reporting the Rebel works abandoned. Johnston had withdrawn his army through Williamsburg and further toward Richmond, but McClellan did not pursue pell-mell. His Army of the Potomac was widely scattered and needed to consolidate in Williamsburg first before an orderly and deliberate advance. But while the rest of the McClellan’s force made preparations to move, Hooker’s division did not.
Losses in Hooker’s division were staggering; the Excelsior Brigade was down the equivalent of an entire regiment. The New Jersey Blues were down almost as much, with Grover’s First Brigade slightly fewer. Among the officers, the division reported 19 killed and 67 wounded with two missing. Hooker’s men had to take time to recover so they stayed behind1—at least for now. General Cuvier Grover was made military governor of Williamsburg and his brigade assigned to provost marshal duties, while the rest of the division set about the grim task of cleaning up.2 In the Confederates’ haste to retreat they left an appalling number of dead and wounded strewn everywhere about the field. As cleanup continued, the strain on medical care increased; more and more wounded were discovered hidden among the slashings, brush, and small ravines that characterized the battlefield. Men of the regiment were kept busy all of Tuesday collecting the wounded. Emerson Merrell and a few others found time to dash off a quick letter home with sparse information; there had been a great fight and he’d survived it. Others later wrote longer letters home, full of details, but for now, those would have to wait.
The Excelsiors fought at Williamsburg with only four regiments, the 71st N.Y. having been detailed to move stores back in Yorktown. All of May 5, Second Excelsior men heard the sound of the cannons and anticipated the order to form up and advance to join the fight, an order that never came. Two days after the fight, with the 71st still in Yorktown, Chaplain Twichell rode forward to inspect the battlefield for himself:
The signs began to appear a full two miles from the scene of the conflict. Huge piles of knapsacks thrown off in the rush for the field—and guarded by sentinels left behind for the purpose … a rod or two further on, and our horses shied at a rebel corpse, lying stark and stiff, the hand clutched above the head, while the open bosom showed a ghastly wound—then another and another…. They were all Confederate, the work of burying our own dead being nearly finished. They lay in heaps almost—a half dozen together. Wounds of every description were open to view, some horribly disfiguring, some scarcely perceptible leaving the slain with a look of sleep upon them.3
The scores of casualties endured by Hooker’s regiments were due in great part to the lack of timely support from other commands, many within just miles of Hooker’s location. Despite Hooker’s losses, McClellan praised Hancock and his late-day attack on Williamsburg’s Redoubt #11, though both III Corps commander Pete Heintzelman and his Confederate counterpart General James Longstreet concurred in their respective reports that Hancock’s role had been a “very small matter.”4 McClellan’s description of Hancock’s performance as “magnificent”5 was greatly resented by the men and officers throughout Hooker’s division; Hooker himself even quipped to the 5th New Jersey’s commander, “I say Mott, it seems to me that you and I, and your Jersey Blues and the Excelsior brigade were not at Williamsburg at all. Hancock did the business.”6 Such slights further damaged Hooker’s opinion of McClellan, but eventually newspaper reports of Williamsburg painted a more accurate picture of the battle, conferring upon the division the recognition they rightly deserved.
Dan Sickles was beside himself when news of the battle arrived back in Washington. For his brigade, the brigade he’d labored so hard to build, to fight and suffer 25 percent casualties, and not yield the field, was indeed a remarkable achievement, and his not being there was almost more than he could bear. But while his men had been digging around Yorktown, the defrocked general had been hard at work, pulling strings at both the Capitol and the White House. He had managed to get Lincoln to re-nominate his commission to the Senate, which was a big step. Sickles hoped the laurels won on the field by the Excelsiors might be worth a vote or two on the way to getting his stars back. He’d know for certain on May 13.
Seventy-First New York moved up from Yorktown by week’s end and camped with the rest of the Excelsiors. McClellan had taken the army and pursued Joseph Johnston’s Confederates up the Virginia Peninsula toward the gates of Richmond. The Federal army’s fortunes had seldom looked brighter. With the Rebels in retreat, McClellan received news that Lincoln had authorized nearly 38,000 troops under Irwin McDowell to begin moving south from northern Virginia and toward Richmond. The joining of these two powerful Yankee forces was believed to be irresistible, and panic swept Richmond. In anticipation, the Southern legislature voted to burn the city rather than let it fall into Northern hands.7
For David Parker it was also an important week. Around this time General Hooker had expressed dissatisfaction with the division’s mail service and wished to make improvements. After Colonel Taylor told Hooker the 72nd was getting its mail satisfactorily, Hooker requested Parker to be detailed to his personal staff so that Parker might improve the entire division’s mail service. David would still be listed on the rolls of the 72nd New York, but attached to Hooker’s staff, he was free from the tedium of fatigue duty, drill, and most importantly, fighting with the regular line infantry. Unless something extraordinary happened, David could be reasonably sure he would survive the war.8
Since leaving Maryland, the regiment had been handled by Lt. Col. Moses while Taylor ran the brigade. It was time to get Taylor back to the 72nd and put a real general at head of the Excelsiors. John J. Abercrombie was that man.9 Already in his early 60s when the war broke out, Abercrombie had had a long career starting with graduation from West Point in 1822. He had served well in many posts throughout the South and Northwest and was promoted to full colonel when war broke out. Abercrombie was made brigadier general of volunteers in August ’61, fought in the ill-fated Shenandoah Valley campaign early in the war, and was named commander of the Excelsior Brigade on May 11.
For Dan Sickles, May 13 couldn’t come fast enough. He’d seen anyone and everyone who could help, and now it was up to the Senate. Dan waited for results in a D.C. restaurant he knew well from his days in Congress. The owner escorted Dan to the rear, where a man of his prominence could wait in peace. Dan had sent a young man to wait at the Senate and return with news as soon as it broke, and now he was coming through the door. Sickles rose from his chair, but before he could even ask, the messenger blurted out, “Confirmed!”10 The vote was 19–18. By one vote Sickles was a general again. Charles Graham, who’d resigned in protest over the Sickles’ demotion, was also waiting for the results. Dan immediately sent his messenger to track him down. Together they could return in triumph, Sickles leading the brigade, Graham back at head of the 70th. It appeared Abercrombie would need a new job.
Back on the Peninsula, Hooker finally received orders to move toward New Kent Court House. On May 15 they continued along the Williamsburg Road, the same road they had marched up from Yorktown. The Williamsburg Road ran north-west, following the contour of the peninsula, and then headed almost due west within ten miles or so of Richmond. As they moved out, Abercrombie rode at head of the Second Brigade while Taylor rode in front of the 72nd.
There were many changes that took place within the regiment. Williamsburg was a baptism of fire, and the past two weeks had served to winnow out the weak and undedicated, especially among the company officers, who unlike their enlisted counterparts could resign and go home when the going got too rough. Most prominent to go was Chaplain Levi Norton. Continued ill-health had forced the 41-year-old to resign and return home. First Lieutenant William P. Holl had resigned his post in Company K back in mid–April just after arriving in Virginia, while 31-year-old First Lt. Alfred S. Mason of Co. B quit only three days before Williamsburg. Of the two Bliss brothers, Warren, the first lt. of Co. G, left on May 16, leaving his brother Harmon, captain of Co. G, to carry on without him. With the death of some officers and the resignation of others, company commands and lieutenancies were being shuffled about, each promotion bringing with it a transfer to a new company. As new officers were needed, vacancies were satisfied by promotion from the ranks, usually from the top enlisted position, regimental sergeant-major. Since April 17, three newly minted second lieutenants joined the officer corps: James Fogarty to Co. I on April 17, Thomas Clark to Co. C on May 6, and John S. Mann to Co. A on May 17. Prior to becoming sergeant-major, each man had been an outstanding first sergeant in his particular company. As each campaign season drew on and the need for officers continued, some men experienced only brief tenures as sergeant-major; in Mann’s case, only eleven days before sewing on the lieutenant’s straps.11
Details of the great fight at Williamsburg had now reached home. There had been rumors and fragments of news of the big battle but by May 14 most was known, including the list of the dead and wounded. “The friends of the Chautauqua Companies in the Sickles Brigade, have waited with the most anxious solicitude for the list of the killed and wounded in the engagement,” read the lead sentence of the Fredonia Censor above its listing of the killed and wounded in Companies D, E, H, and B. “Up to this date but a partial report has been received…. It is likely that many names of the wounded, and perhaps some of the killed, remain as yet unreported.”12 Ironically, listed among the dead was the name of Arthur McKinstry, whose “Dear Uncle” letter from April 29 laid only two columns away. In another part of the paper the battle itself was described, as was Third Excelsior’s role in it:
Sickles’ brigade, in Gen. Hooker’s division, bore the great brunt of the battle, and fought most gallantly, though greatly overpowered by the numbers, superior position, and earthworks of the enemy. The approaches to their works were a series of ravines and swamps, whilst rain fell in torrents all day. The men had also been lying on their arms all the night previous, and were soaked with rain and chilled with cold. The battle raged from early in the morning till 3 o’clock P.M., when McClellan arrived with fresh troops, relieving Hooker’s division, who were nearly prostrated with fatigue and exposure, while the third regiment of Sickles’ brigade had its ranks badly thinned by the balls of the enemy. They are represented as having fought with such imprudent bravery that not less than 200 were killed and wounded.13
A week later the lists of the dead and wounded were complete, and hopes for loved ones serving were either answered or dashed. Obituaries of prominent Chautauqua men and officers killed ran among the columns of the Fredonia Censor and other papers across the state. “The funeral took place on Wednesday afternoon last,” ran the report on the death of Jamestown native Captain Darwin Willard. “Business of all kinds was suspended and the emblems of grief everywhere exhibited. In accordance with the wishes of the friends of the deceased, only civic honors were paid to the remains.”14 For Company E’s Captain Patrick Barrett of Dunkirk, the services were even grander:
The body was brought to Dunkirk for interment, and the funeral obsequies took place on Thursday last. An immense assemblage, by some estimated as high as 5,000 persons, was present, many of whom came from a distance, to testify their respect for the memory of the deceased soldier…. The procession from the church to the grave in the Catholic Cemetery was very imposing. The Fredonia Zouaves headed the procession with arms reversed, and the 68th Regimental Band, the members of the old D. Co. in uniform, the Firemen, and a long train of Civic societies and Citizens followed in the column.15
Even for readers of the Fredonia Censor who had no loved one campaigning, the loss of Arthur McKinstry touched a nerve, because his letters had brought the war home in a very personal way. His death brought an outpouring of compassion to his uncle, the editor of the Censor. “You have my warmest and most heartfelt sympathies for the terrible sacrifice you have laid upon the altar of our bleeding country. Alas! How much woe has been brought upon this peaceful land by this unhallowed rebellion,”16 wrote one reader. The sacrifice had indeed been terrible, but for the men of the regiment, regrettably, there would be more.
Marching to rejoin the rest of the army was miserable and wet, and kept the 72nd’s newest sergeant-major William McGinnes busy moving the men forward. The foul weather induced McClellan to order extra whiskey rations to fortify the men on the advice of army doctors.17 Despite conditions, morale among the Excelsiors was fairly good, with many confident they would be within sight of Richmond in just a few days. Able to leave many of the sick and infirm back in Williamsburg, the regiment traveled unencumbered and was satisfied knowing their comrades were well taken care of. On the march, Captain I.L. Chadwick and the rest saw the war-ravaged countryside. The absence of men to work the fields struck Emerson Merrell:
Corn is up almost big enough to hoe, but a divil [sic] a man is there left to hoe it. A few nigger wenches constitutes the inhabitance here at present, for all the whites are all soldiers and most of the niggers have been taken along by the rebels to build fortifications for them to hide behind.18
Despite Hooker’s division’s late start, they caught up with the army on May 23 near Bottom’s Bridge on the banks of the Chickahominy19 where the road turned near due west toward Richmond. McClellan concentrated his army here on the north side of the river. The true prizes, Richmond and Johnston’s army, lay on the river’s south side. For the past few days after news of his confirmation, Excelsior men, with exception of those few remaining petitioners in the 72nd, anticipated the return of their beloved General Sickles. Finally he arrived at Bottoms Bridge astride his favorite white horse. The New York Times described the scene:
About noon the General made his appearance. The lucky individual who first espied him made it known with a “There comes our General.” His words had not died away ere a thousand voices took up the refrain…. The camp guard vainly essayed to keep the men inside the lines. They broke through every barrier and met him on the road. In a moment he was in the midst of the excited crowd. Shouting at the top of their voices, throwing their caps high in air, they tumbled over one another in their scramble to get to his side.20
Sickles first visited camp of the 74th along with every other regiment and ended with the 70th. While greetings were lusty in each camp, there was more reserve among those officers of the 72nd who had signed the petition back in Maryland and perhaps thought old Abercrombie a better brigadier. Regardless, the scene was full of jubilation, and even the normally reserved Sickles, clad in a new uniform, was taken aback and unprepared for the overwhelming show of affection. Col. Graham was also welcomed back heartily as he resumed his position at the head of the 70th.21
Sickles took official command of the brigade the next day, but time for celebrating was past for the army was on the move. McClellan moved a portion of his army to take Mechanicsville, a mere six miles north of Richmond, while other elements struck south across the river. This southward move dislodged the enemy from Seven Pines, a village sitting astride the Williamsburg Road only eight miles east of Richmond. Taylor’s men and the rest of Hooker’s division crossed the river to support the advance toward Seven Pines. While artillery crews established their forward positions, the regiment occupied nearby rifle pits in case of Reb attack. Every man in the regiment knew the danger of being south of the river, because they were isolated from the bulk of the army should Johnston attack. Even though the bridges across the Chickahominy were sound, there was relief when Hooker’s division was recalled back north of the river that evening.
That night, word came that a worried Lincoln had postponed McDowell’s move south because of his concern that Stonewall Jackson might move boldly in the Shenandoah Valley should McDowell head toward Richmond. Despite not having McDowell’s large force bearing in on Richmond from the north, McClellan moved all the same. He decided to move two of his five corps south of the river for the advance on Richmond, while leaving the remaining three on the north side for the eventual link-up with McDowell. The III and IV Corps were chosen for the move south.22
Hooker moved his First and Third brigades on Sunday, May 25, about a mile forward, crossing the river onto Poplar Hill where they composed part of the army’s extreme left wing. Sickles and his Excelsiors remained north of the river at Bottom’s Bridge for the time being.
The division was now split. Grover’s First Brigade and Patterson’s Third Brigade were camped at Poplar Hill, which provided fairly high ground, surrounded by the Chickahominy River on one side and swamp along the others, while Sickles remained north of the river. The welfare of the men was of great concern. These were the swampy, low lands of the peninsula, and quinine mixed with water was issued regularly in hopes of warding off disease. Around the camps, the forested land was lush with wild berries and other ripe fruit ready for picking, but good conditions for berries were often ill-suited for soldiers. Heavy, continuous rains pounded the division for a week. With his men in deteriorating health, Hooker might expect to muster roughly 7,000 men at any time.23
McClellan had moved most of his massive army into positions of his choosing by the last week of May. Two corps, the III Corps under Heintzelman and the IV Corps under Keyes, were on the south side of the river where lead elements of this force held positions along the Williamsburg road near the small crossroads hamlet of Seven Pines. The other three corps were not far away, on the Chickahominy’s north side. Little Mac was confident of his move; should an emergency arise there were many usable bridges troops could cross.24
With the Union army split and McDowell delayed, Johnston divined an opportunity to defeat at least part of the invading Yankee army. He quickly conjured a plan to hit the Yankee IV Corps around Seven Pines with a three-pronged, three-division attack under James Longstreet; many of these boys were the same who had tangled with the Excelsiors back at Williamsburg. Under Johnston’s plan, the main body of Confederate troops under R.H. Anderson would move from the north, down Nine Mile Road, which intersected Williamsburg Road at Seven Pines. Anderson would be supported by a division under W.H.C. Whiting. This combined force would then hit the Union right flank as it sat facing west along the Williamsburg Road. Troops under D.H. Hill representing the middle force were to move east along the Williamsburg Road and hit the Yankee front. A third force of two brigades under Benjamin Huger would swing south using the Charles City Road, then use lesser roads to move back north, attacking the Union left. When Huger was in position on the Confederate right, he would signal Hill to start the attack. Upon hearing the sound of the cannons, Anderson, on the Rebel left, would launch his attack. Johnston planned on hitting the Yankees early on the morning of May 31.25
The night before the attack, Confederate fortunes looked even brighter as a severe rain storm raised the river’s level, swamping several bridges McClellan had planned to use should problems arise, and further isolating III and IV Corps. But with time approaching to launch the attacks, luck seemed to turn against Johnston as miscues plagued the Confederates. Normally reliable Longstreet sent Anderson down the wrong road into position along the Williamsburg Road and blocking the movements of Hill and Huger’s brigades. All of Longstreet’s brigades were on Williamsburg Road, with only Whiting’s Division remaining to attack from the north along Nine Mile Road. With Huger blocked, there would be no attack from the south, effectively turning the affair into only a two-pronged attack. To sort things out, Johnston pushed back the start of the attack from 8 a.m. till 1 p.m. as Hill’s men got into proper position.26
Finally in place and deployed in thick woods and undergrowth, Hill’s center force went forward with the attack, shattering the advanced positions of Silas Casey’s IV Corps. Despite the protection of prepared positions, the Rebel advance slowed only slightly as Casey’s Federals fell back en masse, clogging the Williamsburg Road as they made for the rear.
Troops from the III Corps, Third Division, under Phil Kearny made their way to the front, reinforcing the shaky Union lines. Around 4 p.m. Johnston realized his plan was in serious trouble as Yankee resistance stiffened with some of his units’ failing to attack. Taking personal command of Whiting’s Division, Johnston moved to the attack south down Nine Mile Road.
Back at Bottom’s Bridge, the Excelsiors stirred with the sound of distant artillery. Chadwick, Bliss, Leonard and the other captains roused their men into columns for the cross-river march and a link-up with the rest of the division. Merrell and Stoddard fell in with their respective companies, ready to move quickly in light marching order, leaving all garrison equipage and knapsacks behind.27
As Johnston moved south along Nine Mile Road to hit the Federals, a lone Union battery made its way across a single rickety bridge and began hurling shot into his ranks. The Federal guns were located near Fair Oaks Station, about a mile north of Seven Pines. As the confederate commander turned left to deal with this pesky artillery, Union infantry from the II Corps under Edwin Sumner arrived from across the river in support, turning this from a distracting skirmish to a stand-up fight and derailing Johnston’s notion of a multipronged attack.28
Back along the Williamsburg Road, the Confederates overcame lines of abatis and had pushed the Federals nearly a mile. Yet with no further support to give weight to their attacks and with Yankee regiments arriving from the rear, the southern attack stalled. By nightfall Union lines held about a mile east of Casey’s original positions.
The companies of the 72nd along with other Excelsior regiments had been on the road since before 4 p.m. and were now near the Richmond and New Kent Old Stage Road. The regiment made bivouac at 8 p.m. lying on their arms, only eight miles from Richmond and only a couple of miles east of Seven Pines.29
Federal positions reorganized during the night as additional troops came up. Hooker’s division now straddled the Williamsburg Road just east of where the fighting had stopped the day before. On the other side of the line, as Johnston rode among his lines inspecting their dispositions, a Yankee musket ball hit him in the shoulder and was soon followed by a shell fragment that slammed into his chest. Unhorsed and unconscious, the Rebel commander was carried from the field and eventually to a Richmond hospital.30
Confederate command now devolved to Major General Gustavus W. Smith, who after pondering his options, ordered Longstreet to continue the attacks in the morning by striking north from the Williamsburg Road toward the Federals beyond the railroad and around Fair Oaks. On Sunday morning the planned attacks toward the railroad went forward. Union lines had been reinforced in the night, and advancing Rebels faced a swelling maelstrom of Yankee lead. Unable to weather the storm, the Southern attack gave out.
Heintzelman readied his Second Division for an advance along the Williamsburg Road east of Seven Pines. Hooker had only two regiments of New Jersey men from the First Brigade and Sickles’ Excelsiors available to him. Forming around 7 a.m., Sickles and his brigade stepped off and went forward. Moving only a few hundred yards, they met Heintzelman, who issued Sickles new orders. Hooker continued forward with the two New Jersey regiments and encountered stiff resistance in a patch of woods north of the Williamsburg Road near the Richmond and York River Railway tracks, but Sickles was not to follow. Sickles instead marched his brigade farther to the left of Hooker, staying astride the road.31
“General Hooker gallantly led the Fifth and Sixth New Jersey Regiments forward near the railroad. General Sickles’ brigade followed, but finding the enemy in force to the left of the Williamsburg road, turned, by my direction, a portion of the brigade to the left of this road,” reported Heintzelman.32 The enemy force concerning Heintzelman was mainly some Alabamans from Wilcox’s brigade who had found a good position in a small wood.
Sickles issued orders to deploy his regiments. Taylor positioned the 72nd left of the road and sent forward two companies as skirmishers.33 The regiment was in line with Col. George Hall’s 71st New York, whose men were initially on the right of the road, but orders from Heintzelman moved both regiments to the left of the road. With the 72nd on the extreme left and the 71st between it and the road, the brigade was ready to advance. The 73rd, 70th and 74th New Yorks formed on the road’s right.34 “These dispositions were made under an annoying fire from the enemy’s skirmishers and sharpshooters, who were in the woods and undergrowth in front. Their fire seemed directed almost entirely upon mounted officers,”35 wrote Sickles.
“A rebel sharpshooter posted in a tree near a house on the right of the pike had been making some good shots, with Gen. Sickles and his staff as his target.… My attention was called to the lively and adventurous youth. Instantly the right of Co. F, including some 20 rifles, aimed for that tree, which unloaded its dead fruit as food for worms almost immediately,”36 reported Captain Walter A. Donaldson of the 71st New York.
Skirmishers went forward to flush the trees and bushes of remaining Confederate snipers and laggards as the Excelsiors moved forward. Taylor’s men conspicuously advanced at the right shoulder shift as if “on parade.”37 Being closest to the road and in the most exposed positions, the 71st and 73rd New York bore the brunt of “a severe fire from the enemy, consisting of about four regiments, concealed in the woods directly in our front,”38 wrote Col. Hall. Responding with one or two volleys, Hall ordered a charge of his 71st N.Y.
Firing continually, the 71st, flanked closely by the 73rd on its right and the 72nd on its left, rushed forward at the double quick. “With a vigorous shout and cheer we broke with headlong speed toward the edge of the woods sheltering the enemy, whose volleys had been making things uncomfortable for the welfare and good health of the Sickles’ Brigade,”39 wrote Donaldson. Enduring continuous fire and with the weight of the entire Excelsior brigade bearing in upon them at fixed bayonets, the concealed Rebels broke and fled, littering the field with equipment and wounded.40
Advancing into the wood, thick brush and timber prevented the Excelsiors from maintaining perfect alignment. Each regiment pursued best they could. On the left, Taylor’s companies slowed to a halt while on the right, the 70th and 74th moved through the wood under instructions from Sickles to “proceed cautiously, observe the enemy, and to engage him if this could be done with advantage.”41
With the enemy flushed from the wood but his brigade disorganized, Sickles ordered a consolidation of his position just as orders arrived from Heintzelman to detach two regiments to support II Corps. The 70th N.Y. and 74th N.Y. were dispatched toward the railroad tracks, where they offered timely service. After driving the Rebs from the field, they returned to further bolster Sickles’ new line. Around noon a Confederate battery began shelling the woods held by the Excelsiors, “evidently trying to ascertain or drive us from our position,”42 reported Taylor. But the firing was only intermittent and ceased entirely after an hour.43
Their attacks now spent and requested reinforcements still absent, Confederate General Hill saw little hope in stopping the overwhelming number of blue-coated Yankees. As the last major command engaged, Hill finally ordered a general withdrawal around 1 p.m. effectively ending the Battle of Seven Pines, leaving the field and all positions originally held by the Federals back in Union hands.44
In their new advanced positions, Union commanders summoned ambulances to care for both Northern and Southern wounded, as McClellan unexpectedly ordered a general halt. Attacks by Sickles and the rest of Hooker’s division had gone well, with the Excelsiors suffering only eight men killed, 58 wounded, and six missing.45 Indeed, with news of no more offensive action, both Hooker and Kearney complained bitterly to each other over McClellan’s reluctance to press the attack, both men believing the Rebs to be on the verge of complete collapse.46
For the remainder of the day and through the night, Taylor’s boys and the rest of the Excelsiors held the ground captured that morning. Skirmishers from the various commands were sent out in case of Rebel counter-moves, with two companies from the 72nd deployed for this purpose. With the men of the regiment lying on their arms, there was no firing that night, only a distant drum roll and sound of troops moving across the regiment’s front.47 Young Lucius Jones of Company H was one of those keeping watch:
Night put a stop to the fighting. Soon as it was dark pickets were called for, and I was one of them. We were taken out in front in a strip woods; it was a swamp. We were posted along a line about ten feet apart, with orders not to talk, but to keep a sharp lookout. James P. Knox was next to me; we had to stand in the water up over our shoes. We took turns standing on a big root of a tree to keep out of the water—only room enough for one at a time. We were glad when morning came.48
With the enemy close by, Pvt. Stoddard and the rest of the regiment remained under standing orders against building fires despite the frequent rain. With everyone under arms and on constant vigil, the dead men and horses went unburied. This added to the already unhealthy conditions as the bodies began to fester and rot in the heat and wet. The stench of death filled the air. Survivors of the fight often fared no better. The injured, some with their wounds crawling with maggots, were loaded like cordwood onto stifling boxcars heading for hospitals at the rear. Many died en route.
Despite the hardships endured by the regiment, the day did have at least one moment of levity. It seemed some patriotic Richmond gentlemen sought to render aid to the soldiers fighting on their behalf. Procuring a four-horse omnibus from the American House hotel, they filled it with various food delicacies and other supplies intended for the Southern wounded. Four or five of them then boarded the coach and started for the front. Traveling on corduroy roads near Seven Pines, the group encountered many fleeing Confederate soldiers streaming toward Richmond. The omnibus began to pick up speed, bouncing the occupants about. Calling for the driver to slow down, the riders discovered the coachman was not in his seat. The black coachman, lying on the floor, raced the bus and its forlorn passengers toward the Federal lines. As they bounced around the inside, the Good Samaritans struggled to open the door, which had been tied shut with a leather strap. Firing their pistols at the driver proved fruitless. The passengers eventually cut through the leather strap and flung open the door. Disgruntled, they piled onto the road as the driver made good his escape toward Union lines.49
The wayward carriage made it to the lines of the 72nd New York and to one of its officers, probably First Lt. Michael McDonald of Company E. A New York City omnibus driver on Broadway before the war, MacDonald took the possession of the coach and headed for brigade headquarters. With the colored driver seated beside him, McDonald swung the coach in front of General Sickles and asked, “Bus for the Battery?”50 Sickles replied he would wait for the next one. McDonald turned the omnibus and team over to the quartermaster.51
Not satisfied to let the joke die there, Sickles ordered the coach sent to corps commander Peter Heintzelman, suggesting the commanding general might wish to patronize the hotel. Heintzelman reportedly quipped upon receiving the omnibus, “It seems that those damned fellows of Sickles’ have got into Richmond already and are keeping the hotel.”52
Taylor received orders at daylight on Monday the 2nd to move his regiment forward with the rest of the brigade. At 8 a.m. the New Yorkers followed a battery of artillery to Casey’s old camp. The boys remained in trenches around the cannons until 3 p.m. when they moved to the rear of the guns and a camp previously occupied by Couch’s division.53 Around five in the afternoon, Hooker reported he had traveled a considerable distance up two roads advancing away from these forward positions and found them clear of the enemy. The overly cautious McClellan discouraged reconnaissance like this, only adding to Hooker’s frustration over Little Mac’s failure to advance.54
The regiment was assigned picket duty that night in front of the entire III Corps. At 9:30, Major William O. Stevens took six companies comprising 260 men and moved forward. One hundred men from the Fifth New Jersey under Major Ramsey reported to Taylor, who then directed Ramsey to take charge of his men along with the four remaining companies of the 72nd. Ramsey was to support Stevens’ right flank while keeping some men in reserve. During the night a light was seen in the distance and there was more drumming, but except for a drenching rain and the constant threat of a nearby enemy, the night was uneventful.55 That night men had time to reflect on the past few days. They had performed well, pushing the enemy from the woods; only one man had been wounded and another listed as missing. Despite the light losses of this battle, the companies were getting worn out and the regiment with it. “Company B which left Jamestown with one hundred and ten men, and was afterwards recruited by the addition of twenty more, has now not more than thirty-five or forty men capable of service,”56 wrote James Hall. But the hearts of the Company B men may have been a little heavier, as news of the loss of their beloved Captain Brown reached them. The man who formed the company, the young doctor who left the 72nd to colonel the 100th New York, had died leading a charge at the head of his men. Though some thought the attack to be suicidal, he led the assault “with a smile and a hurrah.”57 Brown had left Company B some weeks before, yet many held his memory with affection and felt his loss.
Taylor received welcomed orders in the morning for his regiment to go into camp. Withdrawing pickets, he moved about a half mile to the rear, yet within 20 minutes Taylor received new orders to report back to the front. Near Couch’s old camp, Taylor formed his regiment right of the 71st N.Y., standing in line under arms until 4 p.m. Remaining in the area under arms through the night, they suffered through another violent rainstorm. The next morning, June 4, the regiment moved forward to near Casey’s old works. Along the way some Rebel soldiers and an officer were discovered in one of the local houses. Taylor ordered surgeon Charles Irwin to attend to the wounded men. Irwin discovered that while none of the wounds were mortal, the Southern men lacked proper care. Taylor referred the matter to the brigade staff, recommending an ambulance take the prisoners to the rear for more thorough treatment.58
Two companies under Maj. Stevens were sent near 5 p.m. to relieve some companies of the Sixth New Jersey as pickets. About the same time, the 11th Massachusetts relieved the balance of Taylor’s regiment. Taylor’s men returned to Couch’s old camp, finally setting up a camp of their own—the first time since leaving Bottom’s Bridge, five days before.59 Hooker was now confident in his ability to repulse any unexpected Rebel attack and relaxed precautions by allowing the men to cremate dead horses and bury the many bodies that still littered the field. Emerson Merrell wrote:
The ground was covered with the killed and wounded and some of the dead lay till yesterday before they were buried. It has been very hot all of the time till night last when it began to rain and the ground was covered with magets [sic] and blood and a sight too horrible to mention.60
Camp offered relief for the men of Third Excelsior from the strain of the past several days, but conditions still took a huge toll. Picket lines were too close for comfort, and skirmishing and other forays continued constantly. Rain and enemy shelling added to the men’s stress. Duties rotated through the division: two brigades manned the forward trenches and picket lines, while the third rested in camp. Unfortunately, unhealthful conditions continued to swell the sick call rolls to alarming proportions.61 One soldier detailed, “We could not get a breath of fresh air, a drink of good water, or a sound night’s rest.”62 David Parker described what he saw:
Both horses and men lay about in every direction, and the heat was intense. The horses would quickly swell up so that they would all be lying on their backs with their legs extended in the air, and the poor dead soldiers, on both sides, were in the same condition, swollen so full that their clothes would burst. As soon as possible men were detailed to bury the dead, but in most cases this was done by simply shoveling earth upon them as they lay, and the earth was in clods so that the covering was not complete. The stench was intolerable. No good water could be obtained. A little well was dug and a barrel sunk in the ground, which speedily filled with surface water, and this after being boiled was the water the soldiers drank. Strict orders were issued that all the water should be boiled. Sickness immediately affected nearly every man. Barrels of whiskey were issued. The open barrel was given a large amount of quinine, and soldiers stood by with a stick to stir it when the men were marched up with their cups, given a ration, and told to drink it then and there.63
Fighting at Seven Pines moved General McClellan to within sight of the spires of Richmond, requiring only one last Yankee push. But perhaps the most portentous result of the past ten days of movement and fighting wasn’t that the Federal army lay within a half-day’s march of the Confederate capital, but rather that the Rebel army had a new commander to replace the wounded Joseph Johnston. That commander was Robert E. Lee.64