mass of agonizing wreckage with the first. Yet even this was not
enough for Grant, who once more renewed his orders. These orders
quickly ran their usual course, from the army to the different
corps, from each corps to its own divisions, and from divisions
to brigades. But not a single unit stirred. From the generals to
the "thinking bayonets" every soldier knew the limit had been
reached. Officially the order was obeyed by a front-line fire of
musketry, as well as by the staunch artillery, which again gave
its infantry the comfort of the guns. But that was all.

Thus ended the battle of Cold Harbor, the last pitched battle on
Virginian soil. Grant reported it in three short sentences; and
afterwards referred to it in these other three. "I have always
regretted that the last assault [i.e., the whole battle of the
third of June] was ever made. No advantage whatever was gained to
compensate for the heavy loss. Indeed, the advantages, other than
those of relative losses, were on the Confederate side." Even
these, however, were also on the Confederate side, as Grant lost
nearly thirteen thousand, while Lee lost less than eighteen
hundred. Cold Harbor undoubtedly lowered Union morale, both at
the front and all through the loyal North. It encouraged the
Peace Party, revived Confederate hopes, and shook the army's
faith in Grant's commandership. Martin McMahon, a Union general,
writing many years after the event, of which he was a most
competent witness, said: "It was the dreary, dismal, bloody,
ineffective close of the lieutenant-general's first campaign with
the Army of the Potomac."


Cold Harbor caused a change of plan. Reporting two days later