The Battle of Glendale
Page 1
Published by The History Press
Charleston, SC
www.historypress.net
Copyright © 2017 by Douglas Crenshaw
All rights reserved
Cover: “The Battle of Glendale” (detail), Henry Clow, County of Henrico, Virginia, Historic
Preservation and Museum Services.
First published 2017
e-book edition 2017
ISBN 978.1.62585.427.8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016943514
print edition ISBN 978.1.62619.892.0
Notice: The information in this book is true and complete to the best of our knowledge. It is offered without guarantee on the part of the author or The History Press. The author and The History Press disclaim all liability in connection with the use of this book.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
CONTENTS
Maps
Acknowledgements
Prologue
1. Prelude
2. The Opponents
3. Meeting at the Station
4. Racing Against the Clock
5. Exercises in Futility
6. The Affair at White Oak
7. Time Is Running Out
8. Desperate Fighting at Whitlock’s Farm
9. The Struggle for the Center
10. Havoc at Randol’s Guns
11. Kearny Holds On
12. The Final Actions
13. Aftermath
Appendix I. Flag of the 11th Alabama
Appendix II. Glendale Today
Appendix III. After the Battle: The Leaders
Order of Battle
Notes
Sources
About the Author
MAPS
“Seven Days Battles”
“Savage’s Station”
“Frayser’s Farm”
“Kemper’s Attack”
“Simmons’ Counterattack”
“Attacks in the Center”
“Hill’s Attacks”
“The Final Attacks”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank Randy Cleaver of the Richmond National Battlefield Park (RNBP) for taking me out to the Frayser’s Farm battlefield on a cold winter day when this project was just beginning. Randy was a great source of information and was very generous with his time. Bert Dunkerly also walked the battlefield with me. Mike Gorman of RNBP shared maps that he and Bob Krick created, and I found these to be the most useful of all the maps I referenced. Mike and Bert are always very supportive.
Bob Krick gave me a tremendous amount of assistance. We walked the ground together during the later stages of the project, and this provided greater clarity and insight. As the battlefield is in a completely raw state at the time of writing, it was incredibly helpful to have his assistance. Bob also opened the amazing library at RNBP to me. Anyone contemplating writing about action in the Richmond, Virginia area should absolutely make use of this resource; it contains a wealth of firsthand and secondhand sources. He also offered many suggestions to improve the book. Any errors contained within are mine alone. Bob is an extremely knowledgeable and generous person, and his assistance is greatly appreciated.
Once again, Henrico County has been very helpful and gracious in allowing me to use the paintings of Henry Clow. I would be remiss not to mention Hal Jespersen. No matter how busy Hal is, he always finds time to assist and provide his stunning maps. Thanks also to Ellen Gaglio, who has been very supportive. Thanks also to Banks Smither and Ryan Finn, my editors at The History Press. They have gone out of their way to assist me in every way possible. Finally, and most importantly, I have to thank my very patient wife, Judy. She allowed me the time to work on this project and endured many, many conversations about it.
This book is dedicated to the entire staff of the Richmond National Battlefield Park. They do important work, and they do it very well.
PROLOGUE
Glendale. Today, it’s a quiet, out-of-the-way intersection. Heavy growths of trees are on one corner, and the foundation of an old abandoned farmhouse is near the other. Across the main road, there are some woods and, a little bit in the distance, the edge of a housing development. Down one road is a pleasant country church. There is no indication that this place is different from any other country crossroad except for a few old signs. But if you drive toward the church, you will notice a small national cemetery. It seems out of place; why is it there? Something momentous happened in this lonely, peaceful spot. On the last day of June 1862, the fate of a massive Union army hung in the balance and, with it, perhaps the destiny of the Union itself. Men were slaughtered here, killed and maimed by the thousands. It was a scene of incredible terror and desperation. Time has given it a peaceful covering, but the story is powerful and right under the surface, if you merely stop and take a good look.
Chapter 1
PRELUDE
By the spring of 1862, things were not looking good for the Confederacy. In the west, Forts Henry, Donelson and Island No. 10 had fallen. Corinth and Memphis were lost, and the South’s largest city, New Orleans, had been captured. The western army had been defeated at Shiloh, and one of the South’s most promising generals, Albert Sidney Johnston, had been killed. Along the eastern coast, Jacksonville had fallen. Union troops had landed on the coast of North Carolina and captured Fort Macon. In Virginia, a massive army commanded by George B. McClellan was slowly making its way up the peninsula between the James and York Rivers. The naval yard at Norfolk had fallen, and the ironclad Virginia had been scuttled to prevent its capture by the Union forces. The Confederate army under Joseph E. Johnston had retreated to the outskirts of Richmond. Things appeared very dark indeed.
As McClellan’s army moved ponderously toward the Confederate capital, events were occurring that would soon affect the outcome of his campaign. In the Shenandoah Valley, Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson led his army to a string of victories over the Union forces, causing President Lincoln to withhold a large number of troops (including part of the corps under Irvin McDowell) from McClellan. These would be stationed so that they could protect Washington against the threat posed by Jackson.
In front of Richmond, General Joseph Johnston’s men prepared for the Union onslaught. A meandering swamp called the Chickahominy River posed a challenge to McClellan. Under normal conditions, it was nearly impossible to get infantry, artillery and wagons across it without adequate bridges. When heavy rains came, it turned into a true river. The Chickahominy lay astride McClellan’s path, and he divided his army, with portions on either side. The northernmost corps under Fitz John Porter was awaiting the expected arrival of McDowell’s command from the north, which, owing to Jackson, would never occur. The bulk of McClellan’s army, south of the river, would be directly in front of Richmond. Confederate commander Johnston decided to take advantage of the split Union forces, and on May 31, he launched an attack against the southern portion of McClellan’s army at Seen Pines (Fair Oaks). Unfortunately for the Confederacy, the attack was poorly coordinated and executed. It continued the next day with no appreciable gain but with great loss; the most important casualty was Johnston himself, who was wounded and taken from the field. President Jefferson Davis placed Robert E. Lee in command of the army at this most desperate hour.
George B. McClellan. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Lee went to work immediately. He enhanced the army’s supply situation, improved discipline and began reorganizing the artillery. The army’s guns had been dispersed among the various divisions an
d brigades, diminishing the potential effectiveness of massed firepower. Lee also had extensive entrenchments built. These fortifications would not only help to protect the defenders against McClellan’s infantry and artillery, but they would also allow Lee to use fewer troops to hold a position. While many derided him for this, some even referring to him as the “King of Spades” and “Granny Lee,” it would prove to be a very wise decision. Because fewer troops were needed to man them, the earthworks freed other troops to attack elsewhere. The Confederate commander would soon make good use of them.1
Robert E. Lee. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Lee faced other challenges besides McClellan’s force—his own army was new to him. He was generally unfamiliar with the men who led his divisions and brigades and was unsure of their capabilities. It is true that he had a positive experience in planning the Valley Campaign with Jackson, with the result being a spectacular operation, but Lee’s other commanders were not well known by him. How would they respond under pressure? Would they show initiative? Could they effectively organize and lead their men? Time would demonstrate that Lee had a tendency to issue orders that could be somewhat vague, leaving his subordinates room for discretion. How would his commanders respond to these? Additionally, he had a small headquarters staff. While this might seem more efficient, it would not really turn out to be so. It would become difficult for Lee to keep in touch with his sometimes widespread commanders. Lee also did not use his staff to supervise and ensure that his orders were carried out as intended. In time, of course, Lee would understand the men who served directly under him, but that was not the case in June 1862.2
In late June, because McDowell’s corps would not be sent to join him, McClellan had only Porter’s Fifth Corps stationed north of the Chickahominy protecting his supply base at White House Landing. Lee saw an opportunity. Confederate cavalry chief J.E.B. Stuart and his horsemen rode entirely around the Federal army and reported that the right wing of the enemy was “in the air,” or unsupported. If Lee could strike the Union right with enough force, he could roll up McClellan’s flank and drive him from his supply base. It was an audacious plan. Lee accepted the great, calculated risk and moved most of his army north of the Chickahominy, leaving his forces south of the river greatly outnumbered. If McClellan seized the opportunity there, he could crush the Confederate defenses south of the river and drive to Richmond. Were that to happen, Lee would have a difficult time getting his troops back across the river to meet the threat. He gambled correctly that McClellan would be slow to react. Lee moved the divisions of A.P. Hill, James Longstreet and D.H. Hill across the river, where they would strike McClellan at Mechanicsville. Jackson’s army would come down from the Valley and move behind Porter, turning his flank. It seemed like a great, if ambitious, plan. The army was new, the commanders had not worked together for long and communications were poor. Despite these challenges, the date of the attack was set for June 26.3
While most of the Confederate forces were in place on time, Jackson’s men were running late. It took longer than anticipated to move his army from the Shenandoah Valley to the outskirts of Richmond. The Confederates did not wait for Jackson, but instead, A.P. Hill began the assault. When Jackson did arrive in the vicinity, he was several miles away and set up camp, not taking part in the attack on the twenty-sixth. Instead of flanking the Federals and forcing them out of their defenses, the Confederates attacked their strong position head-on, and their assault at Beaver Dam Creek was met with a bloody repulse. Why Jackson did not attack has been the subject of debate since the battle. In his official report, Jackson made no mention of an order from Lee to attack that day but did state that he “distinctly heard the rapid and continuous discharges of cannon.”4
“Seven Days Battles.” Map by Hal Jespersen.
Although victorious on the field, McClellan knew that Jackson was in the area, and if the Confederate should fall on Porter’s right flank, it could threaten his supply base and lead to disaster. McClellan directed Porter to hold a position north of the Chickahominy for another day in order to give the army a chance to begin to move its supply base from White House Landing south to the James River. With his corps, Porter selected a very strong position behind Boatswain’s Creek. The Confederates followed and launched a series of attacks that lasted through the afternoon but met with no success. After suffering a major delay by being led down the wrong road, Jackson’s men arrived on the army’s left flank late in the afternoon. Near dusk, Lee ordered one final assault. After being shifted to the right, the Texas Brigade under John Bell Hood broke through, and on the left, other men of Jackson’s command did the same. The Union position collapsed, but the Fifth Corps was saved by nightfall and retreated across the river. Having narrowly escaped disaster, McClellan’s force began its slow movement to the James River, where it would set up its new supply base.
Gaines’s Mill had been the second-bloodiest day of the war thus far (only Shiloh exceeded it in violence). The Federals had roughly 31,000 men in the fight and lost 6,837. George McCall’s division of the Fifth Corps had suffered more than 200 casualties at Mechanicsville and about 1,600 at Gaines’s Mill. The Confederates took about 57,000 men north of the Chickahominy and lost roughly 8,000. Lee could not afford many days such as this. He had driven Porter across the Chickahominy, but the Federal army still threatened the Confederate capital. Displaying the cautious style that would mark his career, McClellan did not attack but began moving his army to the James, where it would be under the protection of the Federal gunboats. While Lee had saved Richmond for the moment, his opponent was slipping away. He knew that the Confederacy had limited resources in comparison to the Union, and its best chance of winning independence would be in an early victory. A prolonged war would work against it. With a great opportunity before him, how could Lee bring McClellan to bay before he escaped?5
Chapter 2
THE OPPONENTS
The armies that were preparing to face each other near Glendale (Frayser’s Farm) were quite different from each other. In fact, they were each very unlike what they had been the previous July at the battle at Manassas. George McClellan had taken the defeated mob that had retreated to Washington and had re-formed it into a huge and what appeared to be effective fighting machine. McClellan was a young and brash commander. A graduate of West Point and former railroad executive, he was only thirtyfour years old when he took command of the nation’s most prominent army. The fate of the nation seemed to be in his hands. Seemingly confident to the highest degree, he and his army gave the impression that they were prepared for great things.
Unfortunately for the Lincoln administration, McClellan was not all he appeared to be. While he was outstanding at the tasks involved in building an army, those skills did not translate into effective combat leadership. As is so often the case, McClellan’s greatest strengths were also his greatest weaknesses. Having built a magnificent machine, he was afraid to let it suffer damage. He had been an observer during the Crimean War and had seen the carnage possible in modern warfare. To his credit, McClellan was not extravagant with his men’s lives. He was not aggressive but rather preferred to pin the enemy down, bring up his artillery and defeat the enemy while incurring minimal risks. These were seemingly noble qualities in a commander, but when combined with several other tendencies, they spelled disaster for the Army of the Potomac and for the men he sought to protect. McClellan was not at all as self-confident as he seemed to be. When confronted with an enemy, he tended to overrate its size and capabilities, resulting in almost self-paralysis. He sought to preserve his force and avoid destruction rather than use its power to crush his foe. Although McClellan’s traits were not a problem when he was faced with an equally cautious opponent, when an aggressive enemy was in his front, they became quite evident.
The Army of the Potomac was not the fighting machine that it would become later in the war. It was organized into five corps, each of which typically contained two divisions (the Fifth Corps consis
ted of three). Generally, each division contained three brigades. This provided the army commander a more efficient span of control, as it would be an almost impossible task for the commander to provide effective command and control of all the independent divisions during a battle. Each of the corps was assigned a section of cavalry. This would be useful in serving as scouts and in screening the corps from the enemy, but only a small force made up the army reserve. The dispersion of the cavalry among the corps would prove to be disastrous when faced with their highly effective Southern counterparts.
Artillery was also divided, and it was split among the divisions and the corps, with a central reserve commanded by the very capable Colonel Henry Hunt, who learned very quickly that artillery was more effective when it was massed. By the following year, then general Hunt would have centralized a great deal of artillery into very powerful force that he would use with great effectiveness.
The corps commanders were an undistinguished lot, not at all up to the future standards of the Army of the Potomac. Edwin V. Sumner was sixty-five, the oldest major general in the Federal army. He was nicknamed “Bull Head,” allegedly because an enemy ball had bounced off his head during the Mexican-American War. While he was aggressive, he would not be an effective corps leader. William B. Franklin was thirty-nine and was an experienced and effective administrator, but his abilities in the field did little to inspire confidence from those above or below him. Fitz John Porter was a favorite of McClellan’s. He had put up a solid defense at both Beaver Dam Creek and Gaines’s Mill and would do so again at Malvern Hill. Unfortunately for Porter, he would run afoul of John Pope in August at Second Manassas, and his active command would come to an end.6
Although the talent at the level of corps command left much to be desired, the leaders of some of the divisions and brigades showed a great deal of promise and would become the future leaders of the army. Among them were division commanders such as John Sedgwick, who would rise to command of the Sixth Corps. Israel Richardson would be effective, but his career would be cut short in the fields of Antietam. Phil Kearny, a dynamic leader, might have risen to army command but instead was killed in September at Chantilly. Henry Slocum would become a corps commander. Joseph Hooker would be promoted to army command the following winter and would meet with disaster at Chancellorsville. Later, he would be transferred to the Western Theater, where he enjoyed more success. At the brigade level was John Reynolds, who would be very capable but would meet his fate as the commander of the First Corps the next July 1 at Gettysburg. Winfield Scott Hancock would lead the Second Corps at Gettysburg and arguably became one of the army’s finest corps commanders. Henry Hunt would rise to the command of the Federal artillery, where he would demonstrate a high level of effectiveness. George Meade would, of course, rise to the command of the Army of the Potomac just a few days before Gettysburg.