The Battle of Sailors (Saylors) Creek; Incidents of Lee's Last Struggle

[Two Flints]

Hello SSS,

This article appeared in the 1897 January issue of Harper's Weekly.  The Spencer was employed in this battle.

INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE. THE BATTLE OF SAILORS CREEK.

It has happened very rarely that any one has been so placed, either as spectator or participant, as to be able to see and to describe a battle. Some minor engagement, perhaps, with small contending forces, may have come under observation in such a way as to enable the looker-on to say he saw it, but anything worthy to be called a battle must be of such proportions and generally upon such ground as to render this impossible, and descriptions of battles are made up, as a rule, from what many persons saw and from the results.

In writing something of the battle of Sailors Creek it is not my purpose to attempt a description of that conflict, but simply to give some account of the part the Thirty-seventh Massachusetts Regiment took in it, and to recall some of the impressions and experiences of what was, though of short duration, to us a memorable struggle. On the 2d of April we had been in the front line of the assaulting column at Petersburg which carried the heavily fortified works at Fort Fisher, and had captured two guns and a battle-flag. On the 3d, 4th, and 5th, our corps having been so we were told at the time attached to General Sheridan's command by his special request, was making forced marches, keeping up with the cavalry in that relentless pursuit inspired and led by him, and which no one can doubt was the secret of final success. The weather had grown very warm for the season, and after the first halt the ground for acres was covered with overcoats, extra blankets and clothing, and various little comforts which even the oldest soldiers sometimes began a campaign with, but which were gradually discarded, till only the barest necessaries remained. On the 6th we had already covered nearly twenty miles, when, about two o'clock, rapid artillery-firing was heard in front, and an order to double-quick told us that there was work ahead. A hard three miles' run followed, the men drip ping and panting under their loads, but determined to be in at the death; for every one felt the end was at hand.

At the first sound of the artillery in advance, they began, without orders, to fill the magazines of their Spencer Rifles as they moved along. The Spencer, at that time, was by far the best weapon in usenot so heavy as the Springfield, and surpassing it in range and precision; firing seven shots to its one, it made the regiments armed with it equal to twice their number, not only from their increased destructive power, but from the added confidence it gave, and from the fear the enemy had of it. One of the prisoners who was taken on our front at Berryville said to a comrade as they passed to the rear, looking askance at one of the smoking pieces as he spoke, There's one o' them dd guns!and their theory was that we loaded up Sunday and fired all the week. The Thirty-seventh was the only regiment in the corps that had them, and it got a good deal of extra duty in consequence.  As we came to the top of a long slope, there began an immediate easy descent, running down to the creek, a winding, sluggish stream; and then an ascent, rather sharper than the one we had passed, covered with a dense growth of young pines, and intersected with deep gullies, cut out of the clay by heavy rains. At the top of the first slope, in a field to the left of the road, near an old barn, was Sheridan, on his black horse, talking to Wright, and I saw him make a gesture, with his palm turned to the front, that said, unmistakably, that whatever opposed us on the hill opposite was to be pushed out of the way. As the men recognized him, a rattling cheer went down the line, such as no other man could evoke from our corps; for he had given us the inspiration and enthusiasm of repeated victory in the Shenandoah, and every man felt and implicitly trusted his splendid leadership.

His cavalry had cut off the principal wagon train of Lee's army, and Stonewall Jackson's old corps, now commanded by Ewell, had been put in position to check our pursuit, and to save the train if possible. General Kershaw was on the right of their line, Custis Lee on the left, and the naval battalion, made up of picked men from the abandoned gunboats at Richmond, and clothed and equipped in the best English fashion, was in the rear of Lee's right, in reserve.  We began to move down the hill in column of wings, but deployed into line of battle and threw out skirmishers before we reached the creek, which was barely fordable, being up to our armpits. After crossing, line was reformed, and the regiment moved by the flank a short distance to the right, and then the order was brought us by Colonel Tom Colt, riding as jauntily and coolly as on parade, to charge up the hill. The growth of young pines was so dense that it was impossible to see more than the length of the regimental line, or to tell whether our connection on the right or left was maintained. Just here Chaplain Morse, whose place was in the rear with the ambulances, appeared in front of the line, and it took a peremptory order to send him back; he was a Methodist minister, whom we had chosen from the ranks as our chaplain, and though always faithful in the duty to which he had been unexpectedly called, he could never forget that he had come out to fight. We were now moving steadily up the hill, and stray bullets began to fly too plentifully to be pleasant. As we pushed on, I saw Sergeant Cowles, as he fell, shot through the body, wave his hand, and cheer on the men with his last breath. Instinctively we felt that a few steps more would precipitate a bloody fight; but the line did not waver, nor was there any flinching or skulking, the soldierly discipline and steadiness which General Edwards had infused into the regiment while its colonel standing it, as often before, in good stead. In a moment, as we rose to the crest, a crashing volley from an enemy still invisible tore through the pines over our heads. The misdirected aim was most fortunate for us, for the men held their fire like the veterans they were, and before the enemy could reload we were close upon them, with but few vacancies in our ranks. Then, at the word, every man poured in seven shots from his Spencer, at easy speaking distance and with deadly effect. Large numbers fell, killed and wounded, many came in and gave themselves up, some escaped, and all semblance of organization or opposition melted away from our front and disappeared. Flushed with success, we moved steadily to the front, a distance of probably 300 yards, when, the growth becoming less dense, it appeared that we had no support on either flank. Just at this juncture Custis Lee moved part of his command, comprising the naval battalion, through one of the deep gulches spoken of, around our right, and about half the length of the regiment in our rear. We discovered the movement just in time to face about, and in a moment it was hand to hand, and a brief fierce struggle for the mastery ensued with musketry at arm's-length, officers fighting with clubbed muskets and pistols, and the bayonet and the cutlasses of the sailors coming into free use for the first time in our experience. Clouds of sulphurous smoke soon obscured everything not close at hand, and it was as these opened and shifted that I had glimpses of battle groupsand scenes which will always remain in my memory.  One, just a momentary glimpse, seen and lost too soon to know the result, of a powerful officer in gray with clubbed musket raised to strike down Captain  Chandley, who had a Spencer  Rifle himself, and was cocking it to fire. Another, of a flaming rebel battle-flag planted in the ground a few feet away, the centre of a desperate struggle. A blue-coated sergeant seized it with determined grasp, only to fall desperately wounded beneath its folds, when a plucky little fellow, whom I recognized through the smoke as Private Taggert, of Company B, wrested it from its hold, and carried it safe to the rear.

The battle was now at its height. Blue and gray mingled in a confused mass, swayed back and forth in the eddying smoke, and fierce cries of Down with 'em! Give 'em hell! and the clashing of crossed bayonets could be heard rising above the sound of the musketry. The intense excitement swallowed up all sense of danger, and every man fought more than valorously almost with savage fury. Meanwhile our Spencers had again given us the advantage, and the enemy's force, broken into confused groups, was driven back into the little ravine, through which they had come in a huddled mass. We gathered at its mouth, and gave them such a terrible raking fire that they soon began to show white handkerchiefs in token of surrender, and our firing ceased. 

The adjutant, John S. Bradley of Lee, a gallant soldier, always at the front, as the musketry lulled, demanded the sword of a rebel officer near whom he was standing, when the officer, without a word, put his pistol to the adjutant's breast. He saw the movement just in time to knock the pistol aside, when they grappled, and rolled over each other down into the ravine, the officer discharging his pistol into the adjutant's shoulder as they went. A rebel soldier also shot him through the thigh, and in an instant more his antagonist would have despatched him with another pistolshot, when Private Eddy, of Company B, who had been watching his chance, as Bradley's assailant came uppermost, shot him dead. He had hardly fired, when a powerful graybackthrust him through the body with a bayonet, the point coming out near his spine, and he was thrown down and pinned to the ground. His antagonist then tried to wrest his Spencer from him, but he clung to it desperately, and in spite of the terrible disadvantage of his position, succeeded in firing another shot, which was fatal to his brave and determined enemy. The rebel fell upon him as he lay, but he thrust his body aside, pulled out the bayonet which transfixed him, and staggered to the rear, where he was cared for, and finally recovered.

After this, of course, we opened fire again, with deadly effect, and they gave up this time in earnest. General Custis Lee surrendered at the muzzle of Corporal David White's rifle, and we sent to rear with him and his staff nearly 300 prisoners, and a silk flag belonging to a crack Savannah battalion, besides the battle-flag already spoken of. Seventy dead were taken from the ravine, and the ambulance men said they had never seen them piled up in such heaps anywhere. During the fight a corporal, who was noted for his quiet promptitude and unvarying good behavior, becoming a little separated from the main command, found himself confronted by a rebel officer, whose surrender he demanded. The officer refused, and the corporal fired, shooting him through the body.  As he fell, the corporal bent over him and told him he was sorry he had to shoot him, and that he was a Christian, and if he wished it, would pray with him. The officer eagerly assented, and the corporal knelt by his side, amidst the drifting smoke and flying missiles, undisturbed by the roar of musketry and the shouts and groans of the combatants, and offered a fervent prayer for the parting soul of his dying foeman, hostile no longer. When he had finished, they shook hands, and the officer gave the corporal his sword as a memento, and asked him to write to his wife and tell her what had befallen him. They then bade farewell; and the corporal, who had been made a target of by the rebels under the impression that he was rifling the officer's body, picked up his Spencer and went on firing.

An Irish corporal, whose brother had been killed on the parapet in the assault on Petersburg a few days before, concealed himself in a thicket, and killed nine rebels during the fight. When it was over, he said he didn't know as it would help poor Mike any, but somehow he felt aisier about the heart.

Some men were always having narrow escapes. We had a sergeant who was famous for them. I met him just after this fight, and said, Well, sergeant, have you had your usual scratch? He pushed up his cap in reply, and I saw the blood trickling down his temple, which had been grazed by a bullet.

It was past three o'clock when we struck the enemy, and as the shadows fell, and the evening breeze rose and sighed a requiem through the swaying pines, all sounds of conflict had died away, and we made our bivouac close at hand. It was an exultant band that gathered with torn garments and blackened faces about our camp-fires, recounting to one another in husky voices the varied incidents of the fight, and almost every man had some trophy of the field. But the hour of victory, as must always be the case for those who help to bring it on, was saddened by the loss of many of our bravest, most tried companions, who, could they have survived that day the last battle of the war, might have come marching home with the rest of us. It had been a glorious victory all along the line, resulting in a loss to Lee's crumbling, and disrupted army of about 8000. Who can fail to admire the splendid manhood and courage of men who, after such a march as they had made, almost without food, with disaster upon them, and defeat inevitable, could make such a stand as they did at Sailors Creek, or to rejoice that they with their children are back again with us and ours under the old flag that waved triumphant on that bloody day?  Three days later came Lee's surrender, and the campaigns of the Army of the Potomac were ended.

Mr. W. E. Cameron, a participant in this battle on the Southern side, subsequently Governor of Virginia, has lately written an account of the final campaign, from which I take the following extract referring to Sailors Creek:

But the main body of the army, consisting of Ewell's, Anderson's, and Gordon's commands, accompanied by Rooney Lee's division of cavalry, were annoyed from the early morning by flank attacks from Sheridan. In the early afternoon these attacks became so serious that Anderson was compelled to halt and go into line of battle, and this enabled Meade's Sixth Corps to close up on Ewell's corps at Sailors Creek, and the Confederates were thus brought to bay by assaults on three sides. Ewell was crushed destroyed. Anderson's turn came next, and his thin lines were mashed up like an egg-shell's walls. The Federals took nearly 7000 prisoners, including Ewell and most of his general officers. Gordon pushed on, Humphreys contesting every inch of his progress, and finally shook off his pursuer, after losing his trains, some guns, and nearly 2000 prisoners. The affair at Sailors Creek was really a finish to any further effective work by the Confederate Army. Two corps were put hors de combat, and the third was so badly crippled as scarcely to equal a strong brigade of the opposing army. Many interesting incidents marked this fight. In certain parts of the field the combat was a hand-to-hand mêlée. An eyewitness tells that after Ewell's guard had been broken down the Federals surrounded a small body of troops near the creek. Here they encountered the marine corps from Drurys Bluff and the sailors from the Confederate fleet, under the command of Admiral John R. Tucker.  The gallant old sea-dog gave the command to `prepare to repel boarders,' and my informant says it was a sight to see himself and men going through the motions of `cut right' and `cut left' with their cutlasses.

Written Archibald Hopkins.

[Bead Swinger]

Does anybody know what serial numbers those Massachusetts boys were carrying? Were they re-issued rifles, or brand new ones from the last batch of 2000 that was ordered by MA?

[Two Flints]

Bead Swinger,

The 37th Massachusetts were issued their Spencers on July 14th, 1864.  The Battle of Sailor's Creek took place April 6, 1865.  I haven't found any information on serial numbers.  My research material is in Maine, as I sit here in MA waiting for the 166" of snow to melt on my Maine property

Below is part of an article by Joe Bilby: The Spencer -- Then found at this link;  http://www.civilwarguns.com/9202b.html

Massachusetts infantry regiments began receiving their state purchased Spencer rifles in the summer of 1864. The sharpshooter company of the 57th Massachusetts received their guns, promised them at their January enlistment, in July. The men of the 37th Massachusetts regiment were issued Spencer rifles on their way to the Shenandoah Valley the same month. Other units received Spencers during the Valley campaign, including the sharpshooter detachment of the 1st New Jersey Brigade. Some soldiers issued Spencers to themselves. When Adjutant Edmund Halsey of the 15th New Jersey took an inventory of his unit's weapons on August 19, 1864, he found one of his infantrymen armed with a Spencer carbine.

Elisha Hunt Rhodes of the 2nd Rhode Island, a featured character in the recent PBS series on the Civil War, was a Spencer fan. On July 18, 1864, Rhodes borrowed forty Spencers from the 37th Massachusetts to surprise some Rebel pickets who were picking off his men. On September 19, at the battle of Winchester, the men of Rhodes's regiment filled their pockets with .56-.56 rounds and ran to the support of the 37th, which had shot away all its ammunition and was lying helpless under fire. Resupplied, the Bay State men rejoined the attack, which was ultimately successful. Rhodes, a gun buff who was president of the Officer's Rifle Association of Rhode Island in the 1890s, was impressed enough with the Spencer to carry one as his personal weapon in the closing months of the war.

Two Flints

[Six Shot]

Thanks for the reading Two Flints. Really interesting stuff legaends are made of.