Part 6 (1/2)

On the day after the battle, rain poured in a continuous storm; deluging the roads and swelling what had been but rivulets the day before, into rivers. In the midst of this tempest of rain, Casey's division, dest.i.tute of tents and blankets, weary from fighting and disheartened by injustice, marched six miles to the rear to find a new encampment. On the 5th of June, Smith's division, of the Sixth corps, was ordered to cross the Chickahominy, and encamp on ”Golden's Farm,” nearly opposite.

The Third brigade took the advance, followed by the rest of the division. Owing to the swollen state of the river, and the impossibility of bridging it, the division was forced to march to Dispatch Station before effecting a crossing. The march was a long and weary one to gain a distance less than three miles.

Some of our troops were found skirmis.h.i.+ng with the enemy, and our batteries opened upon the gray coats, who quickly surrendered the ground and took to flight. Our Second division encamped in a pleasant locality, yet in close proximity to the swamp.

The Chickahominy wound its doubtful course among mult.i.tudes of islands scarcely raised above the surface, yet covered with trees, shrubs and vines in profusion, within a few rods of our camp. Beyond us, in our front, were forests of luxuriant growths of trees and climbing shrubs, and the country all about us was interrupted with rank growth of timber.

The division at once proceeded, as did all the other divisions in the army, to throw up earthworks; making slow advances at certain points by pus.h.i.+ng these works further toward the front. On the 18th, we were joined by the other division, Sloc.u.m's. The Sixth corps now formed the right of the new line of battle on the south of the river. The line reached from Golden's Farm to Fair Oaks. Day and night the men worked at the breastworks and bridges. One-third of the army was employed constantly at these works, and the immense lines of intrenchments were marvels of achievements in engineering. These were all constructed under the fire of the enemy; no day pa.s.sing without its skirmish. Soldiers were daily brought to the hospitals with wounds, even in the most quiet times.

Everything combined to exhaust the energies of the men and produce fevers, diarrheas and scurvy. Day after day the men worked under a burning sun, throwing up the immense walls of earth, or toiled standing to their waists in water, building bridges. Night after night they were called to arms, to resist some threatened attack of the enemy. Their clothing and tents were drenched with frequent rains, and they often slept in beds of mud. With the hot weather, the malaria became more and more deadly. The whole country was alternately overflowed and drained; and the swamps were reeking with the poisoned air. The hospitals became daily more crowded. The strongest were constantly falling. Diarrhea, typhoid fever, and other miasmatic maladies, became almost universal.

Men who worked at the breastworks one day would be found in the hospitals on the next, burning with fever, tormented with insatiable thirst, racked with pains, or wild with delirium; their parched lips, and teeth blackened with sordes, the hot breath and sunken eyes, the sallow skin and trembling pulse, all telling of the violent workings of these diseases.

Day after day, scores of brave men, who had left their northern homes to aid in the hour of their country's need, were borne to lowly graves along the banks of that fatal river; and at times one might sit in the door of his tent and see as many as six or seven funeral parties bearing comrades to their humble resting places.

Hospital steamers plied constantly from the White House to Was.h.i.+ngton, Alexandria and Philadelphia, bearing thousands of these victims of disease; and many, with stoic indifference, lay down in their shelter tents and gave themselves over to death, without even applying to comrades or surgeons for a.s.sistance.

Everywhere at the north, men were seen on cars and steamers, on the streets and in the houses, whose sallow countenances, emaciated appearance, and tottering steps, marked them as the victims of ”Chickahominy fever.” Express cars groaned with the weight of coffins containing the remains of youths who but a few months before had gone to the war in the pride of their strength, and had now yielded, not to the bullets of the enemy, but to the grim spirit which hovered over that river of death.

Our army seemed on the point of annihilation from disease; and matters were constantly growing worse. At White House landing, great temporary hospitals were established, where hundreds languished, and waited their turn to be sent north.

Thus, for nearly a month, the two armies looked each other in the face, each engaged in throwing up defenses against the approach of the other, but neither attempting to bring on any general engagement. The pickets of the two opposing forces were within speaking distance, but they contented themselves with watching each other, and, as a general rule, amicable relations existed between them. But occasionally, when a belligerent regiment would be on picket on one or the other side, some fellow, who imagined he had a capital chance to pick off an opposing picket, would blaze away; when in a moment the whole line on either side would flash with the discharge of musketry. Night demonstrations on the part of the enemy were so common, that it was a rare thing for our troops not to turn out at midnight, or at two or three o'clock in the morning, and stand under arms until after daylight.

The men of our Third brigade were a part of the time engaged in building a strong fort, near the river bank, which, in honor of our das.h.i.+ng brigadier, was named Fort Davidson.

A new regiment was added to Davidson's brigade during the month of June, the Twentieth New York. The regiment was composed entirely of German Turners. Nearly every man had served his three years in the Prussian service.

They had been stationed in the works at Newport News, and their drill excelled anything in the army, either in the regular or volunteer branch of service. Their full ranks, and their unsoiled uniforms, were in striking contrast with the shattered and worn-out regiments forming the rest of the brigade.

Among the causes of discouragement and anxiety for the safety of our army, was the notorious raid of General Stuart in our rear. This energetic officer, with a body of about two thousand rebel cavalry, had swept round our entire rear, causing something of a panic, not only at White House, where all the s.h.i.+pping dropped down the river, but in the ranks of the army, where it was feared that our communications were destroyed, and we were liable to be hemmed in and overthrown at any time.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SEVEN DAYS' BATTLES.

The army united--Plans and counter plans--Battle of Fair Oaks--Lee's plan--The situation--Stonewall Jackson on the flank--Battle of Mechanicsville--Joy in camp--Porter's corps retreats--An astonished army--Battle of Gaines' Farm--Sloc.u.m's division at Games' Farm--Retreat to the river--Battle of Golden's Farm--A young hero--A Union victory--Our right exposed--The sick abandoned--A night of sorrow--The grand retreat commenced--Sad scenes at Savage's Station--A meteor railroad train.

At length, after great labor, the bridge across the river, near our own camps, was finished. It was an immense structure, spanning not only the river, but the swampy banks on either side to a great distance. Sumner's forces had also rebuilt and enlarged the bridge below, and now the two wings of the army, after weeks of separation, were united by means of these bridges. Communications were now rapid and easy, and there was no difficulty in reinforcing one wing with troops from the other.

General McClellan now determined to act; and an advance of our picket line was ordered on the 25th of June, preparatory to a general forward movement.

But General McClellan was not alone in deciding upon this particular time for commencing offensive operations.

General Lee, who had succeeded to the command of the rebel army when Johnston was wounded, aware of McClellan's intentions of approaching the city by regular approaches, and aware that it was in no condition long to withstand a siege, determined to act on the offensive.

The two armies were now about equal in numbers, each consisting of a little more than one hundred thousand men for duty. (Our army had 115,000 men for duty.) Our own army had recently been reinforced by McCall's division, and five or six thousand troops from Fortress Monroe; and the rebel army had been strengthened by the accession of Jackson's force, of nearly twenty thousand, from the valley.

McClellan's first move was to advance the left wing, under Heintzelman, who occupied the ground on which had been fought the battle of Fair Oaks. General Hooker was ordered to advance his division about a mile across a clearing in his front. This the gallant general essayed to do.

In front of his camp, before reaching the clearing, was a thick entanglement of low pines and bushes, filled with swamps and ponds. This chaparral was about five hundred yards wide. Beyond was the clearing, in which were the rifle pits and strong redoubts of the enemy, and still farther on a forest. Hooker's brigades, commanded by Sickles, Grover and Robinson, protected on the left flank by Kearney's division, and on the right by a Ma.s.sachusetts regiment, moved into the tangled forest, about eight o'clock on the morning of the 25th. Grover's pickets soon fell in with those of the enemy, and sharp skirmis.h.i.+ng commenced; but the rebel picket line was steadily driven back into the clearing, where it was strengthened by their reserve. The fighting now became general. The woods rang with the sharp sounds of musketry and the deep tones of the artillery, and clouds of smoke obscured the scene from view. Ambulances were emerging from the woods bearing the wounded; and b.l.o.o.d.y forms on stretchers, and the less seriously wounded leaning on the shoulders of comrades, made up a melancholy procession.

The fire in the edge of the woods and in the open fields increased in intensity, until all of Hooker's and part of Kearney's forces were brought into action. The rebels finally retreated across the field to the cover of their rifle pits. The retreat was slow and orderly, every foot of the way being disputed.