SKIRMISH AT LEE’S MILLS BEFORE YORKTOWN, APRIL 16, 1862. From a sketch made at the time.
“GET THAT TEAM OUT OF THE MUDI”
fortifications, extending along the entire front of their works, ־which reached from the York River on the left to Warwick Creek on the right, along a line about four miles in length. Fourteen batteries and three redoubts were planted, heavily armed with ordnance.
We were near Battery No. 1, not far from the York River. On it were mounted several 200-pounder guns, which commanded the enemy's water-batteries. One day I was in a redoubt on the left, and saw General McClellan with the Prince de Joinville, examining the enemy’s works through their field-glasses. They very soon drew the fire of the observant enemy, who opened with one of their heavy guns on the group, sending the first shot howling and hissing over and very close to their heads; another, quickly following it, struck in the parapet of the redoubt. The French prince, seemingly quite startled, jumped and glanced nervously around, while McClellan quietly knocked the ashes from his cigar.■
Several of our war-vessels made their appearance in the York River, and occasionally threw a shot at the enemy’s works; but most of them were kept busy at Hampton Roads, watching for the ironclad Merrimac, which was still afloat. The firing from the enemy’s lines was of little consequence, not amounting to over ten or twelve shots each day, a number of these being directed at the huge balloon which went up daily on a tour of inspection, from near General Fitz-John Porter’s headquarters. One day the balloon broke from its mooring of ropes and sailed majestically over the enemy’s works; but fortunately for its occupants it soon met a eounter-current of air which returned it safe to our lines. The month of April was a dreary one, much of the time rainy and uncomfortable. It was a common expectation among us that we were about to end the rebellion. One of my comrades wrote home to his father that we should probably finish up the war in season for him to be at home to teach the village school the following winter; in fact, I believe he partly en-
erate finance, and much preferred Yankee silver or notes.
On the afternoon of April 5th, 1862, the advance of our column was brought to a standstill, with the right in front of Yorktown, and the left by the enemy’s works at Lee’s mills [map p. 83]. We pitched our camp on Wormley Creek, near the Moore house, on the York River, in sight of the enemy’s water-battery and their defensive works at Gloucester Point. One of the impediments to an immediate attack on Yorktown was the difficulty of using light artillery in the muddy fields in our front, and at that time the topography of the country ahead was but little understood, and had to be learned by reconnoissanee in force. We had settled down to the siege of Yorktown; began bridging the streams between us and the enemy, constructing and improving the roads for the rapid transit of supplies, and for the advance. The first parallel was opened about a mile from the enemy’s
saddle. “ Get that team out of the mud! ” I yelled, bringing him to his senses. He flourished his long whip, shouted his mule lingo at the team, and the mules pulled frantically, but not together. “ Can’t you make your mules pull together?” I inquired. “ Dem mules pull right smart! ” said the driver. Cocking and capping my unloaded musket, I brought it to the shoulder and again commanded the driver, “ Get that team out of the mud! ״ The negro rolled his eyes wildly and woke up all over. He first patted his saddle mule, spoke to each one, and then, flourishing his long whip with a crack like a pistol, shouted, “ Go ’long dar ! What I feed yo’ fo’?” and the mule team left the slough in a■ very expeditious manner.
When procuring luxuries of eggs or milk, we paid the people at first in silver, and they gave us local scrip in change; but we found on attempting to pay it out again that they were rather reluctant to receive it, even at that early stage in Confed-
THE SIEGE OF YORKTOWN.
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE —III. BY WARREN LEE GOSS.
. . . One morning we broke camp and went marching up the Peninsula. The roads were very poor and muddy with recent rains, and were crowded with the indescribable material of the vast army which was slowly creeping through the mud over the flat, wooded country. It was a bright day in April — a perfect Virginia day; the grass was green beneath our feet, the buds of the trees were just unrolling into leaves under the warming sun of spring, and in the woods the birds were singing. The march was at first orderly, but under the unaccustomed burden of heavy equipments and knapsacks, and the warmth of the weather, the men straggled along the roads, mingling with the baggage-wagons, ambulances, and pontoon trains, in seeming confusion. . . .
The baggage-trains were a notable spectacle. To each baggage-wagon were attached four or six mules, driven usually by a colored man, with only one rein, or line, and that line attached to the bit of the near leading mule, while the driver rode in a saddle upon the near wheel mule. Each train was accompanied by a guard, and while the guard urged the drivers the drivers urged the mules. The drivers were usually expert, and understood well the wayward, sportive natures of the creatures over whose destinies they presided. On our way to Yorktown our pontoon and baggage trains were sometimes blocked for miles, and the heaviest trains were often unloaded by the guard to facilitate their removal from the mud. It did seem at times as if there were needless delays with the trains, partly due, no doubt, to fear of danger ahead. While I was guarding our pontoon train, after leaving Big Bethel, the teams stopped all along the line. Hurrying to the front, I found one of the leading teams badly mired, but not enough to justify the stopping of the whole train. The lazy colored driver was comfortably asleep in the
WHARF, YORK RIVER.	MCCLELLAN’S HEADQUARTERS.	NELSON HOUSE.
VIEW OF MAIN STREET, YORKTOWN —THE UNION TROOPS MARCHING IN. From a sketch made May 4,1862.
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