At length the train reached the river; and such was its momentum, that, notwithstanding the bridge was burned, the engine and the first car leaped over the first pier in the stream, and the cars hung suspended.

While this destruction was going on, Smith's division moved back beyond Savage's Station, toward White Oak Swamp, marching, with frequent halts, three or four miles, when we were ordered to retrace our steps with all speed, to reinforce Sumner's corps, which was engaging the enemy. The heat of the day was most oppressive. Many of our men fell with sunstroke. Among those who thus suffered was General Davidson.

CHAPTER X.

THE GRAND RETREAT.

Lee's army in pursuit--Sumner and Smith at Bay--Battle of Savage's Station--The Vermont Brigade--Sick and wounded abandoned--Retreat to White Oak Swamp--Battle of White Oak Swamp--An astonished division--A night march--A mystery--In sight of the James--Battle of Malvern Hill--Departure of the princes--Gloom and anxiety--Lee's attack--The rebels demoralized.

Meanwhile the rebel army, finding no force in front of them, were at first at a loss to determine what course we had taken; but when it was discovered that we had withdrawn from before both wings of their army and that our base of supplies at White House had been abandoned, it was quickly divined that the Union army was retreating to the James river.

Stuart, with his cavalry, had dashed down to White House and found only heaps of smoldering ruins; and from the absence of all motion in front of the right of their line, it was clear that no attempt was to be made on Richmond. Finding himself thus unexpectedly victorious, Lee at once ordered his forces, now on the north bank of the Chickahominy, to cross over and pursue the retreating army.

During the night of the 28th, they had been actively engaged in rebuilding the bridge destroyed by General Porter, and early on the morning of the 29th, the main body of Lee's army was pouring across the river. Hill and Longstreet moved rapidly so as to interpose between our army and Richmond, and to be able to strike us on the flank; two other divisions followed on the Charles City road, and Jackson, with his corps, moved down the bank of the Chickahominy, threatening our rear.

To resist any attack from these approaching columns, Sumner's and Heintzelman's corps, and our Second division of the Sixth corps, were formed in line of battle before Savage's Station.

For hours our division, with Sumner's corps, stood in the open field watching the enemy. Heintzelman withdrew his corps and left Sumner and Smith to stem the tide that was destined to pour upon us. It seems to have been the impression of General Heintzelman, who had listened with credulity to the stories of the immense superiority of the enemy in numbers, that all hope of resisting the power of Lee's army was gone, and that there remained nothing for us but to make the best of our way to the James river without stopping to give the enemy battle.

In the view that there was no safety but in retreat, he was guided by the opinion of the Commander-in-Chief, who had no thought of any further resistance than should suffice to bring the men and as much of the material of the army as could be brought by the teams across the Peninsula. Not so the old war horse Sumner. He would gladly have attempted, a few hours later, to have "pushed the rebels into the Chickahominy," had not his application for help been answered from beyond White Oak Swamp, "The rear-guard will follow the retreat of the main body of the army." If there was no hope for the army but rapid retreat, then it was right for Heintzelman to leave the road clear; for as it was, with only Sumner's corps and our own division, the road was packed so full that the men could scarcely march. But if there was an opportunity of inflicting great injury upon the rebels, as Sumner believed there was, then we are not surprised at the amazement of the veteran when he discovered, the battle having commenced, that one corps had left the line altogether. We were now as near our new base of supplies as the rebels were to theirs, and here we had enough to last the army many days. We were, as they had been, on the defensive; and we had the advantage in position. But there was nothing left for those now on the line but to make the best resistance possible under the circ.u.mstances, and then fall back to the banks of the James.

About five o'clock the huge cloud of dust in the direction of the camps we had deserted, gave warning of the approach of that part of the rebel army which was marching by the Charles City road; and at sunset the thunders of their artillery burst upon us. For an hour, only the heavy roar of artillery was heard from both sides. Sh.e.l.ls screamed from one side to the other, and the bright flashes and sharp reports, as they burst in the air, mingled with the noise and smoke of the battle, as battery responded to battery. Thus far no discharge of musketry was heard; but suddenly Magruder's men, with yells and shouts, rushed to the charge. Streams of fire flashed along the two lines, and the rattle of innumerable muskets told of closer work than artillery duels. The brave fellows of Sumner, and of our Vermont brigade, met the a.s.sailants with defiant shouts that rang out above the roar of muskets and cannon.

Leaving Sumner's heroes to contend the ground on their part of the line, let us glance more in detail at the part borne by our own division in this battle of Savage's Station.

The Vermont brigade having the advance of the division, General Brooks at once threw his regiments to the front. The Fifth and Sixth as skirmishers, supported by the Third and Second in line of battle, the Fourth being thrown upon the flank, the brigade advanced rapidly through a wide strip of woods. Suddenly, as the line of skirmishers emerged from the woods they received the fire of a battery and of a strong line of battle. The Fifth at once charged upon the force in front, which scattered in all directions. The rebels were beaten back both from our own and from Sumner's front; but only to reform and press forward again from the cover of the woods to which they had retreated, to give battle with new vigor. Again the flash and roar of musketry mingled with the wild yells of the rebels and the manly shouts of the Unionists, and again nothing could be seen but the clouds of smoke, out of which sprung the vivid blaze of the cannon, and the quick flash of the rifles. Every now and then, fresh troops arriving upon the field would send up the shout above all the other noise of battle, and then nothing but the continuous din of arms could be heard. Three rebel regiments now advanced against the Fifth Vermont; but the brave fellows secured a good position and held it, in spite of every effort of the rebels to dislodge them. The other regiments were not so hotly engaged as the Fifth. Two hundred of the men of that regiment were killed, wounded or missing.

Fifty of their dead bodies were left on the field. Davidson's and Hanc.o.c.k's brigades guarded important positions, but were not actively engaged.

The conflict raged till eight o'clock, when the confederates, repulsed at every point, beaten and discouraged, left the field, and no more was seen of them. The whole loss to the confederates in this engagement was about four hundred.

Before midnight, the rear-guard had turned toward White Oak Swamp, leaving many hundreds of our brave wounded and sick men lying upon the green sward, or collected under rude shelters. Here, large groups were gathered under the shade of some large tree; and there, long lines of staggering invalids, leaning upon their guns or staffs for support, tottered after the retreating column, in the hope of being able to reach with it a place of safety.

Surgeons were left to care for these unfortunate ones who could not get off; and a small amount out of the abundance of provisions that was condemned to destruction was saved for them. Of all the sad scenes which had made the Peninsula swarm with melancholy memories, nothing we had seen could compare with this most sorrowful of all. Twenty-five hundred of our sick and wounded were left to fall into the hands of the enemy.

At nine or ten in the evening, we withdrew from our position before Savage's Station, and marched rapidly toward White Oak Swamp. The road was completely filled with wagons, ambulances and artillery, mingled with hors.e.m.e.n and infantry, all crowding forward with utmost speed.

Never had our men experienced so severe a march. They were obliged to pick their way among the teams, losing all organization, each man bent upon making his way forward regardless of others.

At length, toward morning, we crossed White Oak creek, ascended a little elevation on the further side, and lay down upon the gra.s.s completely exhausted and worn out.

The sun was shining brightly when we were roused from our heavy slumbers. The morning pa.s.sed in perfect quiet except the rattle of the trains which had parked here over night, and now were hurrying along the narrow road, wagons and artillery rushing by with all speed to allow room for the immense collection to file out. This process continued till afternoon, and was the only source of excitement to us except the distant roar of battle on the left, where McCall and Hooker were hotly engaged. Thus matters continued until about two o'clock; the men seeking shelter among the pines or resting quietly after their weary night's march. A picket line composed of men from the various regiments of our Third brigade, Second division, guarding our extreme right flank. All were listless and little dreaming of the tremendous storm of iron hail which was gathering to break upon us in a moment.

Suddenly, like a thunderbolt, seventy-five pieces of artillery belched forth their sheets of flame and howling sh.e.l.ls; and in an instant, our whole division was thrown into the most perfect confusion by the deadly missiles which flew among us in every direction. Such cannonading had never before been heard by our army, and before our batteries could reply with any effect, the horses were killed, the gunners dispersed and the pieces disabled. It was a most perfect surprise; no one was prepared; men ran hither and thither seeking shelter behind any object which seemed even sufficient to conceal them from the view of the enemy.

It appeared that Jackson had effected a crossing of the river, and with great secrecy made his way to the border of White Oak creek, where, concealed by trees and underbrush, he had ma.s.sed his batteries, and when all was in perfect readiness had opened upon us this storm of death.

Unutterable confusion prevailed for a time; riderless horses galloped madly to the rear; men rushed here and there; officers wandered about without commands, and men were left without directions how to act.

Generals Smith and Davidson occupied an old fashioned wooden house which stood upon the brow of the elevation above and facing the bridge. About it were many orderlies, holding their horses, or lounging carelessly, or chatting with each other. The very first volley riddled the house with sh.e.l.ls; orderlies rushed from the place in consternation and the inmates quickly appeared without, gazing in amazement toward the source of this unexpected cause of the tumult. The gray-haired owner of the house was cut in two as he stood in the door, and several other persons were more or less injured. General Smith, at the moment the cannonade opened, was engaged at his rude toilette; his departure from the house was so hasty that he left his watch, which he did not recover. He coolly walked off to a less exposed position and devoted himself to restoring order. One regiment, as soon as the sh.e.l.ls began to fly, rushed pell-mell to the rear, none of the men standing upon the order of their going.

During all this time a few of the regiments held their ground without moving. By active exertions, on the part of officers, order was restored and the whole division fell back a short distance, taking up a position at the edge of a strip of woods, which commanded an open field. General Smith, with his accustomed fearlessness, was to be seen riding along his lines exhorting his men to coolness, and by his own composure restoring confidence to them. The design of Jackson, to cross the stream, was frustrated. The firing soon ceased, and, as darkness came on, quiet again reigned, except now and then a little skirmishing.

At nine o'clock in the evening, under cover of the darkness, we silently and hastily withdrew. All orders were given in whispers; men refrained from conversation; and everything indicated the most intense anxiety on the part of our generals for the safety of the army. Thus, in silence, we hastened on our way; the weary and exhausted troops scarcely able to keep awake while they marched. No better ill.u.s.tration can be given of the intense state of anxiety, excitement and doubt which prevailed, than the following little incident, which occurred during this night march.

Our Third brigade, leading the Second division, had halted where the narrow road pa.s.sed through a piece of woods, waiting a moment for the road to clear, or for the guides to report the direction for the march.

Generals Franklin and Davidson, with officers of Davidson's brigade, were grouped together near the head of the column, sitting upon their horses. The weary men, almost overcome by sleep, were leaning upon their muskets or lying in the road half asleep. Officers nodded and swung this way and that in their saddles. The stillness of death prevailed. In an instant, without any perceptible cause, as though a breath from some evil genius had swept the narrow track, every man was gone from the road. They stood in the woods looking with breathless wonder into the road for the unseen danger. After the first moment of surprise, the word pa.s.sed along, in low tones, "Attention!" Not a living being could be seen in the road, and all was silence. Recovering from the first surprise, General Davidson looked for General Franklin, who, but a moment before, was dozing by his side. "General Franklin! General Franklin!" called the general in a loud whisper, but nothing could be found of him, and we saw no more of him that night. What was the cause of this sudden alarm we never knew. Possibly, a riderless horse might have suddenly startled those in front, or, quite as likely, there was no cause whatever; but the incident ill.u.s.trates the state of feeling in the army that night.

At length, just as the gray light of the morning was streaking the skies, we came in sight of the majestic James river. Every man took a long breath, as though relieved of a heavy load of anxiety. Officers clasped their hands and exclaimed, "Thank G.o.d." The worn out men stepped lighter, for they had arrived at the haven of their hopes. Again they experienced a feeling of safety. We filed into a beautiful clover field, and there the exhausted columns sunk down for a brief rest. Brief it was to be, for scarcely had two hours pa.s.sed when we were ordered into line of battle. We moved back through the woods, crossing a little stream, and formed in a wheat field, where the grain stood in shocks. Here we remained, watching the enemy, who stood in our front, contenting themselves with occasional sallies of their skirmishers, while the great battle of Malvern Hill was in progress on our left, where the booming of our field pieces and the dull roar of the heavy guns from the gunboats was heard for many hours. At length, as night came on, the sound of battle died away, and all was again quiet. Now we heard cheers on the left, and, looking in that direction, we saw, approaching at great speed, the commander of the Union army. Cheers greeted him as he rode along the line, and hats were thrown high in the air in honor of the chief.

As the leading corps of the army had fallen back from White Oak Swamp, they had occupied a superb position on the James river, called Malvern Hill. The wagons and other impedimentia of the army had also arrived there, and were secured behind the southern slope of the hill. The place was admirably adapted for a defensive battle. It was a lofty plateau, rising not less than one hundred and fifty feet above the plain, sloping gently toward the north and east, down to the border of the forest. The approach to this sloping field was rendered difficult by ravines, which ran along the front; and the enemy, if he approached, must do so by way of the roads which crossed them.

Upon the crest was posted the battery of siege guns which had escaped the hands of the enemy; and nearly three hundred field pieces were arranged along the heights, so that the fire might pa.s.s over the heads of the infantry, who were arranged upon the glacis, up which the enemy must charge, hidden, for the most part, by the tall wheat and corn. Here the main body of the army was posted. First, nearest the James, was Porter's corps; then Heintzelman's, Keyes', Sumner's and our Sixth corps, occupying the right flank, two or three miles from the position where the rebels must advance with their main force. The fleet of gunboats floated upon the river, on our left flank, ready to send their screaming monster sh.e.l.ls into the ranks of the advancing enemy.

Against this position, naturally almost impregnable, Lee hurled his hosts, with the design of giving the final blow to the Union army, which should insure its destruction and capture. The rebel army confidently believed that the army of the north must now be compelled to surrender or be driven into the James.

If the rebels were confident and exultant, our own men were filled with the deepest despondency.

Exhausted by a month of constant labor and watchfulness, with fighting and marching and digging, now, as they believed, fleeing from the face of an enemy immensely superior to them in numbers, it is not to be wondered at that they were apprehensive of the worst results.

Paymasters sought refuge with their treasures in the gunboats on the river. The Prince De Joinville and his nephews, the Count De Paris and Count De Chartes, who had acted as aides de camp to General McClellan, who had been with us from the beginning, active, brave men, who were frequently where the danger was greatest, and who had entered our service with the determination of seeing it to the end, now departed; they, too, finding a respite from their toils upon one of the gunboats.

The young men were accompanied on board by the staff and by the Commander-in-Chief himself. From the deck of the vessel he communicated his orders by the signal flags, to those left in command on sh.o.r.e. Here, with his young friends, and in consultation with the commander of the fleet, he remained until about five o'clock, when he rode down the lines to the rear of our corps, where he spent the time till darkness put an end to the fight.

Such was the sad state of feeling in our army. Yet, exhausted and depressed as they were, our men were as brave and determined as ever.

They had yet a country; and they knew that the fate of that country depended upon the result of this encounter, and they resolved to acquit themselves with heroism and even desperation.

Lee had marshaled his whole force in front of our strong position. He wrote to each of his division commanders ordering an a.s.sault, and directing, when they heard the yell of Armistead's troops, to charge also with yells.

The yell was heard, and some of the divisions, but not all, pressed forward to a wild charge.

The rebels came on heroically, but were sent reeling back down the slope in confusion and disorder. Again and again they renewed the charge from under cover of the woods which skirted the base of the slope. They would start across the open s.p.a.ce, charging our batteries with wild yells, but the heavy fire of our guns and the steady volleys of our infantry sent them back as often to the shelter of the woods. At times our infantry would reserve their fire till the rebel columns had run the gauntlet of shot and sh.e.l.l from our batteries, almost reaching our lines, when with exultant cheers they would bound forward to seize the prize now almost within their grasp, when our men would open upon them a single volley, and, leaping over the breastworks, pursue the panic-stricken a.s.sailants, capturing prisoners and colors, and driving the rebels in confusion down the slope. Thus the battle raged with terrible fury; every attempt on the part of the enemy failing, until darkness set in, and the rebel chiefs were glad to let the battle subside; though it was not till nine o'clock the artillery firing ceased.

The weight of the attacks had been upon our center. Here Couch, Sumner and Heintzelman withstood the shock of battle for hours, only a part of Porter's corps being engaged, and neither our Sixth corps nor Casey's division of Keyes' corps being actively in the fight.

The rebel General Trimble thus describes the condition of their army on the morning after the battle:

"The next morning by dawn I went off to ask for orders, when I found the whole army in the utmost disorder. Thousands of straggling men were asking every pa.s.ser-by for their regiments; ambulances, wagons and artillery obstructing every road; and altogether in a drenching rain presenting a scene of the most woful and heart-rending confusion."

Had but a show of an attack upon such an army been made, it must have resulted in defeat and utter rout to the rebels.

CHAPTER XI.

HARRISON'S LANDING.

March to Harrison's Bar--A scene of confusion--A beautiful landscape--Fourth of July in camp--Gloom at the north--Cause of the disasters--Prevalence of disease--Review by the President--A night demonstration by the enemy--Reconnoissance to Malvern Hill--Departure of General Davidson--A retrospect.

Our corps remained in line of battle in the wheat field till early next morning; changing position during the night just often enough to deprive us of rest. As we started out toward Harrison's Landing the rain was pouring in sheets; and throughout the day it continued to deluge the country. The roads were rivers of almost fathomless mud; and our tired men could scarcely drag themselves along. But at four in the afternoon we halted under cover of our gunboats, and bivouacked for the night.

Such a deplorable scene as was here, was enough to melt the heart of the stoutest. As we debouched from a piece of woods skirting the plateau at Harrison's Landing, officers stood like hotel porters at a steamboat landing, calling out "This way for the Third corps;" "This way for the Fifth corps;" "This way for Sloc.u.m's division." All was confusion. The whole army seemed to be made of stragglers. Our little Brigadier Davidson rose in his saddle to an unusual height, as he looked back and saw with undisguised pride, his brigade marching in, almost unbroken.