29 Mar 02

The Second Battle of Cold Harbor, Virginia, 3 June 1864- "Fredericksburg all over again"

On 1 June 1864, in a letter to his wife, General George Meade (architect of the Union victory at Gettysburg) wrote, "The Rebs keep taking up strong positions and entrenching themselves. ...The papers are giving Grant all the credit of what they call ‘successes.' I hope they will remember all this if anything goes wrong!" At nearly the same moment and not far away, Captain Blackford, serving under General Robert E Lee, wrote, "We are being conquered by the splendor of our own victories, and Grant, I suppose, accepts defeat after defeat with that consolation."

At the beginning of his 1864 "Overland Offensive," Ulysses S Grant was heard by a friend to say, "Tell Lincoln, if you see him, that this time, no matter what happens, there will be no turning back." That statement had significance, because, since 1861, President Lincoln had, in close succession, appointed and subsequently fired six different generals, Irvin McDowell, George McClellan, Ambrose Burnside, Joseph Hooker, John Pope, and George Meade (now a subordinate under Grant). Each had, in turn, shown great promise, but, in the end, developed feet of clay. Every offensive into Southern territory had been repelled, with appalling losses, and was sent packing back north. Grant wanted to assure Lincoln that this 1864 offensive would be different. It would only go in one direction. This time, the war was finally going to end, one way or another.

The year 1864 actually began with a note of optimism in the North. The American Civil War was already two and a half years old, and, after many false starts and battlefield blunders, the Army of the Potomac was again on the offensive in Rebel territory, this time threatening Richmond itself. Philip Sheridan's cavalry had been equipped with the new, rapid-fire Spencer Carbine, which, so long as it could be supplied with ammunition, was a weighty force multiplier. For once, a no-nonsense general, Ulysses S Grant was in charge. Grant was unequivocally offense oriented and eager to end the war.

The tide had first turned back in September of 1862 when Lee was repulsed at Antietam, MD, his first serious defeat, made worse by the fact that, as a result, the State of Maryland, which had been on the verge of joining the Confederacy, ultimately did not. With the subsequent and simultaneous military catastrophes at Gettysburg, PA and Vicksburg, MS in the summer of 1863, most analysts now believed that any chance the South had for a negotiated settlement had evaporated. Lee's aura of invincibility had been broken, and it was now only a matter of time before his army would fall below critical mass and fall apart.

At no time did anyone ever think the South could achieve an overall military victory, but many believed that it could maintain the 1861 successions and eventually become an independent, sovereign nation, gradually wearing down the North's resolve to keep the entire Union together. President Lincoln was absolutely determined not to allow that to happen. He was wholly committed to preserving the Union and thus prosecuting the war to its conclusion.

However, as 1864 began, Lincoln was up for reelection in the fall to his second term as president, and, owing to the fact that the war had already dragged on far longer than anyone had expected, his popularity was declining. Many did not share his enthusiasm for keeping the Union together, particularly in light of the cost in human lives. In order to quell a growing antiwar sentiment in northern cities, particularly New York City, Lincoln desperately needed a string of impressive victories, preferably culminating in the capture of Richmond, VA and Lee's surrender. That is the mission he gave to Grant in the spring of 1864.

Though he seldom discussed it publicly, Lincoln was deathly apprehensive of another Bull Run, but he consoled himself with the fact that the blundering ineptness which so characterized the Army of The Potomac back in 1861 was largely gone. The Army now had good equipment, good logistics, and competent leadership at all levels. Many had died to get to that point, but the Army was in the best shape it had ever been in. It would need to be, because Lee's Army of Northern Virginia, though badly attrited and low on food and supplies, had lost little of its adeptness and enthusiasm, and Lee himself, through all but incapacitated from exhaustion stomach flu, and lacking the aid of his most able subordinates (most of whom were now dead), had lost none of his knack for outwitting battlefield opponents.

Though, as noted above, newspapers in the North did their best to put a good face on it, the Virginia Overland Offensive in May of 1864 got off to a rocky start. Costly and indecisive clashes at The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Hawes' Shop significantly drew down Grant's reserves and put him on notice that no one in the Army of Northern Virginia was ready to surrender. Lee was thus able to repeatedly stall, but not stop, Grant's relentless advance toward Richmond.

All roads to Richmond were heavily defended close to the city, so Grant decided to attack overland. His path of attack went through an obscure crossroads called, "Old Cold Harbor." Within sight of Richmond itself, Cold Harbor was a single, white-framed tavern. The name derives from British slang and meant literally "shelter, but no food," implying that one could stay there, but the fare was meager. The stage was now set for Lee's last, great battlefield victory and a stinging, ill-timed thrashing for Grant. Years later, Grant commented in his memoirs that this was the only attack he wished he had never ordered.

In a replay of Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg, Grant planed a linear attack up a long, sloping grade to the southwest of Cold Harbor Tavern. Cold Harbor itself had exchanged hands several times, and the ridge line was only lightly defended. He was hoping to catch Lee off guard and overwhelm the top of the ridge before his main attack was discovered, but delay after frustrating delay gave Lee precious time, which he put to good use by substantially strengthening his defenses with a series of interlocking trenches. Bungling incompetence on the part of Grant's subordinates, typical of the old Union Army, was, once again, rearing its ugly head! Reconnaissance was amateurish and uncoordinated. Impassible swamps, narrow ravines, and wilderness areas, not shown on any map, suddenly appeared in front of advancing Federal units. The Confederates had built only unconnected, rudimentary trenches by daybreak of 2 June. Under Lee's personal supervision, these works, as noted above, were significantly expanded and strengthened throughout the day and night.

Forming on a poorly coordinated, seven-mile front, Grant's assault of Cold Harbor finally commenced at dawn on 3 June. By that time, Confederate positions were heavily reinforced and well prepared. Union cannon perpetration was casual and inadequate. The assault itself was poorly coordinated, and large gaps between units developed as a result. Union troopers never got anywhere close to the Confederate line and were "slaughtered at all points." It was a lopsided victory for Lee, but, being unsure of Grant's remaining strength, Lee did not counterattack. Grant suffered in excess of 13,000 casualties that morning, most of whom died, because they could not be evacuated promptly. Lee's casualties were less than 2,500. Many today contend that a determined counterattack by Lee would have altogether ended Grant's offensive and sent him, like his predecessors, packing back north. Cold Harbor was, as it turns out, the Confederacy's last chance at a negotiated settlement.

The two armies then stared at each other but did not move until the night of 12 June, when Grant again advanced, this time attempting to bypass Lee's entrenchments and move on to attack Confederate rail yards at Petersburg. The attack of Petersburg was also unsuccessful. To make matters worse, a small Confederate force had made its way to the outskirts of Washington DC in early July and threatened to burn the city. Moral in the North had reached its lowest point. It now looked as if Lincoln would lose the election, and the prosecution of the war would be in doubt. Lincoln said at the time "If there is a place worse than hell, I'm in it!"

If Grant's assault had taken place twenty-fours earlier, on the morning of 2 June, it probably would have been successful, and the war would have effectively ended that day. Because of the, critical, twenty-four-hour delay, the war would now go on for another year. Just as Meade had missed his chance to end the war at Gettysburg in 1863, Grant had now done the same thing one year later.

The Battle of Cold Harbor was to have an immediate and global effect on infantry tactics. Standup assaults gave way to protracted sieges and trench warfare. Fifty years later in France, this would still be a familiar theme.

However, unlike his predecessors, Grant, true to his word, did not turn back. The situation turned around quickly. Union victories at Mobile Bay in August and Atlanta and the Shenandoah Valley in September raised morale in the North and ensured Lincoln's reelection. Lincoln's political triumph, in turn, guaranteed that the war would be prosecuted to its conclusion, and that the Union would be preserved. The year ended with Union victories at Franklin and Nashville and Sherman's destructive march through Georgia. Hopes by the Confederacy for a negotiated settlement died. The War Between the States finally ended on Sunday, 9 April 1865 at Appomattox, VA.

Lesson: Good fortune, brilliance, and even good publicity are far less important in attaining ultimate victory that are perseverance and icy determination. Grant fared no better at Cold Harbor than Burnside had at Fredericksburg. The difference is that Burnside lost heart and retreated. Grant sucked it up and pressed on. The rest, as they say, is history.

/John