Early
on
the
morning
of
July
27
the
corps
crossed
the James.
Butler
had
laid
two
pontoon
bridges
at
Deep
Bottom somewhat
earlier,
and
he
had
a
detachment
on
the
north bank
to
hold
the
bridgehead,
and
Sheridan
took
his
cavalry over
to
strike
the
Charles
City
Road
to
Richmond,
while
the infantry
fanned
out
along
the
banks
of
a
little
stream
called Bailey's
Creek.
There
was
skirmishing
all
day
long
in
the underbrush
and
forsaken
fields
by
this
brook,
the
Rebels
apparently
present
in
some
strength
with
more
coming
up.
Back
in
front
of
Petersburg,
Pleasants's
men
were
carrying
the
kegs
of
powder
down
the
long
tunnel,
each
man stooping
low
under
the
ceiling
and
hugging
the
25-pound keg
against
his
belly.
Over
their
heads
the
Confederates
had stopped
hunting
for
the
rumored
Yankee
mine—partly,
it seems,
because
Lee's
engineers
felt
just
the
way
Meade's felt:
no
soldiers
could
burrow
500
feet
under
a
hill.
A
correspondent
for
the
London
Times
who
was
visiting
Confed
erate
headquarters
at
the
time
helped
to
confirm
this
delusion.
British
army
experience,
he
said,
showed
that
400
feet was
the
absolute
limit
for
a
tunnel
of
this
kind.
3
In
any
case,
Grant's
feint
worked
perfectly.
Hancock's
infantry
and
the
dismounted
cavalry
gestured
and
skirmished and
fought
along
a
ridge
back
of
Bailey's
Creek
and
made threatening
motions
on
the
Charles
City
Road,
and
it
looked as
if
a
big
attack
was
coming.
One
after
another,
Lee
called veteran
divisions
out
of
the
Petersburg
lines,
and
by
the morning
of
July
29
he
had
more
than
half
of
his
army
north of
the
James,
leaving
only
18,000
infantry
to
hold
the
five miles
of
line
in
front
of
Petersburg.
More
than
a
third
of Hancock's
people,
meanwhile,
had
already
gone
back
to
Pe
tersburg,
and
everybody
else
would
go
back
as
soon
as
the darkness
came;
4
and
Meade
was
sitting
down
with
Burnside to
draw
up
formal
orders
for
the
big
attack,
which
was
to begin
at
3:30
o'clock
the
next
morning,
July
30.
By
now,
Meade
was
ready
to
support
Burnside
with
everything
he
had.
Burnside
was
to
use
his
entire
corps,
and
two army
corps
would
be
on
hand
to
help
him—Warren's
corps, on
the
left,
and
Baldy
Smith's
old
corps,
now
led
by
General E.
O.
C.
Ord,
on
the
right.
A
powerful
mass
of
artillery
had been
quietly
moved
up
into
position
during
recent
nights-eighty
field
pieces,
eighteen
huge
10
-inch
mortars,
twenty-eight
of
the
lighter
coehorn
mortars,
and
eighteen
432
-inch siege
guns,
all
dug
in
where
they
could
sweep
the
Confederate
position.
Battle
orders
were
precise.
Burnside
was
to
attack
the
moment
the
mine
was
sprung
and
he
was
to
go
straight
for the
crest
of
the
ridge,
pausing
for
no
consideration
whatever.
The
objective
was
a
decisive
break-through
and
final victory,
and
the
only
thing
that
counted
was
to
get
the
troops up
on
the
heights.
They
could
get
there
only
if
they
moved fast.
Therefore
they
must
be
formed
in
columns
of
assault before
the
mine
was
exploded,
and
during
the
night
Burn
side's
parapets
and
abatis
must
be
leveled
so
that
those
columns
could
advance
in
line
of
battle.
There
must
also
be engineer
parties
at
the
heads
of
the
columns,
to
remove
Confederate
obstructions
and
prepare
a
way
for
Yankee
artillery
to
follow.
The
plan
was
good,
and
it
was
about
as
Burnside
had
fig
ured
it.
But
Meade
made
one
change
in
Burnside's
original plan.
He
told
Burnside
that
Ferrero's
colored
division
must not
be
used
as
the
first
wave
of
the
attack.
The
fight
must
be spearheaded
by
the
white
troops.
If
the
colored
troops
were to
be
used
at
all
they
must
go
in
later,
as
support.
Burnside
objected,
with
heat,
pointing
out
that
Ferrero's was
his
biggest,
freshest
division
and
that
it
had
been
getting
special
training
for
weeks
in
the
movements
which would
be
involved
in
this
assault.
Meade
refused
to
yield, and
after
a
while
Grant
came
in
and
Burnside
appealed
to him.
Grant
listened,
and
upheld
Meade:
the
colored
troops must
not
go
in
first.
Profoundly
disturbed,
Burnside
went back
to
his
own
headquarters
to
rearrange
his
plans
and
prepare
new
orders.
The
moment
set
for
the
explosion
of
the mine
was
now
about
twelve
hours
in
the
future.
5