Part 9 (1/2)
The landscape before us was indescribably beautiful. There lay the James river, and spreading out between us and the river were the broad fields of wheat; the fine country houses; the long avenues and roads lined with rows of cedar trees; which last were almost in a moment stripped of their branches to make beds for the soldiers.
There, crowded together, were the immense caravans of wagons, ambulances, guns and pontoons, hugging the river, and the mult.i.tude of men swarming over the plain. Long processions of sick and wounded men, leaning on canes and crutches, their heavy steps and sunken faces now for a moment lighted up at the thought that their melancholy pilgrimage was nearly ended, filed by us; and battalions of cooks and special duty men were wandering about in search of their commands.
The river was full of transports and gunboats, giving it the appearance of the harbor of some commercial metropolis. Many of the hungry men, without waiting for their rations to be brought by the commissary, plunged into the stream, swam to the boats and there procured the coveted food. But the greater number of our men, their powers completely exhausted, without waiting for food, or to provide comfortable quarters, lay down in the bed of mud and were soon in heavy slumbers.
Again, after a poor night's rest, the corps was marched to a new position on the front line, where we remained to celebrate the anniversary of the nation's birthday. A gloomy ”Fourth of July” was this to us, though every effort was made to keep up the spirits of the men.
Early in the morning the enemy opened a fire upon parts of our line, to which our guns responded. A national salute had been ordered, and precisely at the hour appointed, while the fighting was in progress, the heavy guns were heard booming the salute. Our boys listened for a moment, and then, as if all inspired with new life, they made the welkin ring with their cheers. The bands, roused from their long inactivity, pealed forth stirring national airs, and the Commander-in-Chief issued an address to his array, in which he praised its gallantry and firmness, declared that he himself had established the new line, and that if the enemy would come upon us now we would convert his repulse into a final defeat.
At home, a heavy gloom hung over the nation. The news of our retreat and of the terrible battles, had been carried by the magic wires to the remotest parts of the north; but few yet knew the fate of their friends who were in the great army. It was enough that the siege of Richmond, which had cost so much time and money, and, above all, so many thousands of brave men, was abandoned, and the grand army, on which the hopes of the nation hung, was now beleaguered, defending itself in an unhealthy position, which offered little advantage for anything but defense.
Sympathizers with the rebellion secretly rejoiced and openly prophesied the speedy destruction of our army by the scorching sun and poisoned air, even if left to itself by the rebels.
The cause of all these disastrous circ.u.mstances was by some attributed to unwise interference, on the part of the authorities in Was.h.i.+ngton, with the plans of the chief of our army. They claimed that the President, Secretary of War and the Major General commanding all the armies of the Union, had, in the words of General McClellan, ”done what they could to defeat this army.” They complained loudly that reinforcements had been withheld, and that McDowell, with a large force, had been kept unemployed in the vicinity of Fredericksburgh, when his corps would have thrown the balance of strength upon our side. Others claimed that the whole campaign had been sadly mismanaged by a commander who had, as they insisted, never seen his army fight; who had invariably found employment elsewhere than on the field of battle when fighting was to be done, and whose character as a soldier was made up of doubts and hesitancies.
Six weeks of camp life, dreary, sickly and monotonous, succeeded our arrival at Harrison's Bar.
Our corps proceeded to the work of throwing up strong intrenchments and mounting guns. Our Third brigade, Second division, constructed an extensive fort, in which several very heavy guns were mounted; each of the regiments taking their turn at the labor. In our front the forests were slashed for a great distance, and thousands of st.u.r.dy wood-cutters plied their heavy blows, sweltering under the burning rays of the sun.
Sickness became almost universal. The men were worn out with the tremendous labors which they had performed since their arrival on the Peninsula; they were burned by almost unendurable heat; they were nearly devoured by the countless myriads of flies and other annoying insects; and they were forced to drink impure and unwholesome water. It was not strange that hundreds died in camp, and that hundreds more, with the seeds of death implanted in their const.i.tutions, went to their homes in the north to breathe out their lives in the midst of their friends, or languished in the large government hospitals at Was.h.i.+ngton, and other cities.
Leaves of absence were given freely, and thousands availed themselves of the opportunity of visiting their homes and recruiting their health. The men, with the patience which none but soldiers ever exhibit, went quietly to work to render their situation as tolerable as possible.
Wells were dug in the camps, from which they procured better water than they were able to get at first, and small pines were brought and set among the tents, by which some degree of protection was afforded against the burning sun. On the morning of the 8th of July, the monotony was broken by the arrival of President Lincoln. The booming of artillery announced his coming, and the heartfelt cheers of the soldiers a.s.sured him of a welcome.
The President, after spending a few hours at the head-quarters of the army, proceeded to review the various corps. He was accompanied by General McClellan, and many officers of note. Everywhere he received an enthusiastic welcome from the men, who regarded him as their warm friend. He manifested great emotion as he rode along the lines and saw that the regiments, which but a few weeks before had left Was.h.i.+ngton with full ranks, were now mere skeletons of regiments. Evening drew its mantle over the scene, and the review was closed by moonlight.
Little occurred to relieve the monotony of the six weeks of camp life at Harrison's Bar, except the events of which we have spoken; a demonstration by the enemy during the night of the 31st, and an advance to Malvern Hill by General Hooker's division. On the former occasion, the troops were startled from their slumbers about midnight, by the sudden discharge of a battery of artillery from the south side of the James. The rebels had succeeded in getting a force in position there, and they now opened a vigorous fire upon our s.h.i.+pping and our camps.
Their sh.e.l.ls flew among us in disagreeable proximity, and the long lines of fire traced upon the midnight sky lent a certain charm to the dangerous business. Our gunboats answered the fire; and after two hours of exciting work drove the rebels from their position. Some infantry was taken across the river, who hastened the retreat of the enemy, burned the buildings near the sh.o.r.e, and cut down the trees, that they might not in future afford concealment for the rebels.
General Hooker's reconnoissance resulted in his occupying Malvern Hill for a day or two, having a brisk skirmish with the enemy and returning to camp.
Our active and gallant Brigadier-General Davidson was, early in August, relieved from the command of our Third brigade, and ordered to the department of Missouri. Notwithstanding the severity of his discipline, and his occasional forgetfulness that men could not accomplish as much physical labor as horses--for the general had always been a cavalry officer--his never-tiring energy, his undoubted bravery, and his interest and pride in his brigade, had endeared him to the men. During the severe trials on the Chickahominy, and on the retreat, the general had taken an unusual interest in the brigade, and had made himself personally acquainted with nearly all the members of his command.
The general took command of a cavalry division in Missouri; where his name became a terror to all secessionists in that part of the country.
The command devolved upon Lieutenant-Colonel Corning of the Thirty-third New York, then senior officer of the brigade, who was soon succeeded by Colonel W. H. Irwin, of the Forty-ninth Pennsylvania Volunteers.
Reinforcements began to arrive from Was.h.i.+ngton, and our army, in August, numbered one hundred and twenty thousand men. With these, and a few thousand more, General McClellan declared his belief that he could repel the enemy and advance into Richmond.
Let us for a moment turn to the fortunes of the regiment with which we left Saratoga, and whose early history we have traced. In all the stirring events which have transpired in the division and corps, the Seventy-seventh has acted an important and honorable part. Always ready to perform the duties demanded of it; always in its place when danger was greatest; ever cheerfully obeying the commands of superiors, it has a.s.sumed no honor above its fellows, but proudly claimed to be the peer of such n.o.ble regiments as the Sixth Maine, the Fifth Wisconsin, the Thirty-third New York, and other bright stars in the galaxy of the Sixth corps; ornaments to it and the army. ”It is a little regiment,” said General Davidson to a member of Governor Morgan's staff, who came to look after the interests of the New York troops, ”but it is always in the right place.” The general regarded the regiment with especial favor, and was accustomed to call it ”my little Seventy-seventh.” Since the arrival of the army on the Peninsula the experiences of the regiment have been varied. With the other regiments of Smith's division, it has spent a month at Yorktown, within musket shot of the enemy. At Williamsburgh it, with other regiments of its brigade, supported batteries in front of Fort Magruder, and when, in the afternoon, it received the order to go with the Forty-ninth to the a.s.sistance of Hanc.o.c.k, it started forward with cheers; the men going through the mud at double quick. But when the two regiments arrived on the field, their gallant brothers of Hanc.o.c.k's and of their own brigade, had n.o.bly accomplished the work in which they would gladly have a.s.sisted. We have seen how gallantly the regiment routed the rebels at Mechanicsville; capturing a flag and other trophies; and when on the Chickahominy Smith's division held the line closest upon the enemy, it bravely a.s.sumed its part of the labor and danger. A portion of the regiment on picket on the 28th of June, exhibited sterling heroism, and we need hardly refer to the n.o.ble sacrifice of the brave young soldier John Ham.
Disease and exhaustion had made terrible inroads upon the Seventy-seventh. Instead of nearly a thousand men with which we came to the Peninsula, inspection in the middle of June showed only about two hundred and fifty men present for duty. Although this regiment had from the very beginning occupied an exposed position in the very front line; although it composed a part of Smith's division, which has already become famous both in the Union and rebel armies for being always in closest proximity to the enemy, yet it had thus far lost very few men in battle. All the rest of those now absent had been stricken down by fevers, or worn out by the exhausting labors and exposures of the campaign.
[Ill.u.s.tration: James B. McKean--Col. 77th Regt. NYSV.]
Among those attacked by typhoid fever was Colonel McKean. After suffering a few days in the vain hope of soon being able to place himself again at the head of his regiment, he was removed from the poisonous atmosphere of the swamps to Was.h.i.+ngton, and thence to his home in Saratoga. The men looked upon his departure with sincere regret, for they not only respected him as an able commander, but loved him for his never failing interest in their welfare. He had been to the regiment in the capacity of commander and father. His leave of the regiment was destined to be final; for except as an occasional visitor he never returned to it; and after many months of suffering, his const.i.tution undermined, and his health permanently destroyed, he was forced to relinquish the command. But though forced to leave the field, the men of his regiment never ceased to cherish feelings of love and respect for their first commander. They had witnessed his bravery on the field, and they now knew that he was contending with disease with the same fort.i.tude that had marked his course in the army. The departure of Colonel McKean from the service was not only a great loss to his regiment but to the whole corps; for he was not only a brave officer, but a gentleman of superior intellectual endowments. Another of the sufferers from typhoid fever was Lieutenant Bowe, a young man of fine abilities and greatly beloved by his regiment. After several weeks of absence, he returned to camp on the 18th of July restored to health. On the very next day, while standing with several officers in a tent, he was fatally wounded by an accidental shot from a pistol. His father, hearing of the sad occurrence, came for him and removed him from camp; but only to see him expire in a few days.
Changes occurred among the officers. The lieutenant-colonel and major left the service, the first by resignation, the other by dismissal.
Adjutant French was made major, and afterwards lieutenant-colonel, which office he held during the remainder of the term of the regiment. He a.s.sumed command of the regiment on his return to it after the battle of Antietam, and continued in command while it was a regiment. Captains and lieutenants also resigned. Chaplain Tully and Quartermaster Shurtliff departed for their homes, having left the service. Lieutenant Hayward was made quartermaster, a position for which he was eminently qualified, and which he thenceforward held to the great satisfaction of the entire regiment.