During the thirty days of the siege we had twenty days of rain. Thunder storms followed each other in quick succession, with lightnings more vivid than we had ever seen at the north. Men lay down to rest at night with their equipments buckled about them and wet to their skins. Men unaccustomed to the hardships of campaigning could not endure such exposure.

A few divisions of the army performed by far the greater part of the labor, either because they had at first reached positions which imposed greater toil, or because greater confidence was reposed in them. Our own division was one of those upon which the duties imposed were too great for men to perform; yet the men would have resented being sent to the rear, and it was said that General Smith remarked that "he had spoken for a front seat for his boys and he intended to keep it."

Added to all the exposures and hardships of the siege, there was a deplorable want of proper commissary and medical supplies. While the men were supplied with fair rations of hard bread, vegetables were unknown among us, and the supply of fresh meat wholly inadequate. In the Medical Department the greatest difficulty was experienced in obtaining supplies, and indeed it was impossible to get them. Not that regimental surgeons did not use their utmost endeavor to procure them, but as brigade and regimental commissaries could not obtain supplies of food which were not furnished to the army at all, so surgeons could not procure medicines and other necessaries which were locked in the storehouses in Washington. This subject will be more fully alluded to in another place, and it is to be hoped that the responsibility of this criminal negligence to supply the army with medical and hospital stores may fall where it belongs.

Thus, with their minds wrought up to a continual state of excitement, with constant exposure to tempests and malaria, with excessive and exhausting labors, and with improper food and scarcity of medicine, sickness and death swept over us like a pestilence.

At length, after a month of toil and exposure almost unprecedented, after losing nearly one-fifth of our magnificent army by disease and death, our batteries were finished, the enormous siege guns were mounted, and the thirteen inch mortars in position. The army looked anxiously for the grand finale of all these extensive preparations. Men had lost the enthusiasm which prevailed when we landed upon the Peninsula, and a smile was seldom seen; but a fixed and determined purpose to succeed still appeared in their faces. Now at length we were ready; and the countenances of the soldiers began to lighten up a little. But as the sun rose on the morning of the 4th of May, behold, the rebels had vanished, and with them our hopes of a brilliant victory! Unfortunately for our hopes of a great success at Yorktown, the rebel generals had shown themselves unwilling to afford us such an opportunity by waiting for us longer; and during the night of the 3d and 4th they had evacuated the place.

They had gained a month of time for strengthening the defenses about Richmond, and for concentrating their forces there. Now they were ready to fall back without testing our magnificent works and huge guns, and lead us into the swamps of Chickahominy; where they hoped that the fever would complete the ghastly work already commenced at Yorktown.

During the night of the evacuation, the roar of artillery exceeded anything that had been heard before. From one end of the line to the other the shells and shot poured into our camps, and the arches of fire that marked the courses of the shells, with flame spouting from the mouths of the guns, created a magnificent pyrotechnic display. But at daylight, orderlies flew from regiment to regiment with the startling intelligence that the beleaguered works were deserted, and with orders to occupy them at once. Smith's division hastened to cross over the dam, and we found ourselves in the strongholds that we had so long invested. As the Seventy-seventh regiment passed along one of the roads leading among the intrenchments, a sharp report like that of a pistol was heard at the feet of those in the center of the column, and directly under the colors. The men scattered, and a piece of old cloth was seen lying on the ground at the point from which the report emanated. Colonel McKean, who was very near, lifted the cloth with the point of his sword, and discovered a torpedo carefully buried in the ground, except a nipple which had been filled with fulminating powder, which was covered by the old cloth. The fuse only had exploded. Had the machine itself exploded, it must have destroyed many of our men, our colonel among them. Other regiments were not so fortunate as we were. Very many men were killed in the streets and intrenchments by these torpedoes, which the enemy had planted in the street at either end of the bridges, about springs, and near the deserted guns. They were concealed beneath the ground with great care, the capped nipple only rising above the surface, and this, covered by an old rag or piece of bark thrown over it, exploded at the slightest touch. These infernal machines were only one feature of the general plan of our enemies to carry on a war by brutal, savage and cowardly means. The starving of prisoners at Andersonville and Salisbury, and the wholesale butchery at Fort Pillow, were other parts of the same savage plan which was crowned by the fearful tragedy at Ford's Theatre.

We made little delay among the rebel intrenchments; only long enough to glance over the formidable works, where the enemy had abandoned seventy-two pieces of artillery, mostly of heavy caliber, with immense numbers of shovels, picks, wheelbarrows and other paraphernalia of an army.

The division was at nine o'clock sent forward on the road toward Williamsburgh; encountering, before it had proceeded far, a portion of the rear-guard of the confederate army, which hastily fell back before our advance. General Smith informed the Commander-in-Chief of the encounter, who ordered Stoneman, with a regiment of cavalry, to give chase to the retiring body, and, if possible, cut it off; but, unfortunately, either from want of proper information in regard to the roads, or from other hindrances, this was not effected. The division pushed on over the road lately traversed by the rebels, the men overcoming all obstacles that had been thrown in their way, in their anxiety to overtake the foe.

The scenery, as the troops passed, was indeed charming beyond description. Magnificent forests of oak and pine, interspersed with clearings, the residences of farmers, with fine fields, covered with the green blades of the newly springing wheat, met the view along the road; while the woods were adorned with innumerable flowers. The tall dogwood, with its clusters of large flowers like swarms of white butterflies, mingled with the Judas tree, whose leafless boughs were densely covered with racemes of purple blossoms. The azalia and the honeysuckle beneath formed a delightful contrast with the gorgeous floral display above.

Thus the division was hurried on, until at evening it came upon the rebel works at Williamsburgh. As our forces approached Williamsburgh, the cavalry came upon the enemy, and a sharp skirmish ensued, in which we lost about fifty in killed and wounded, and the rebels left as many on the field. The charge was made by the Sixth cavalry and Gibbon's battery, driving the rebels back. They, in their turn, being reinforced, forced our troops back; one of our guns, from which all the horses were shot, being abandoned. Each party strove hard for the possession of the gun, but night closed upon the contest, leaving it in possession of neither. In the meantime, the men of our division too sick to march were being cared for by our medical officers. Hundreds of the men of our division lay sick with typhoid fever and other equally dangerous maladies. These were all taken to the hospital which had been commenced a day or two previous, about a mile and a half from our camp. The whole day was occupied in removing these men. Of those sent to this hospital, as of the many previously sent to the hospital at Young's Mills and Fortress Monroe, few ever returned.



CHAPTER VI.

WILLIAMSBURGH.

Battle of Williamsburgh—The army not organized—The medical department—Hooker's gallant fight—Hancock's charge—McClellan at Yorktown—Night on the battle-field.

Early on the morning of the 5th skirmishing commenced. The division of Hooker was posted on the left of the road from Lee's Mills to Williamsburgh, and our own division held the road, stretching mostly to the right of it. Fort Magruder was directly in front of us, commanding the road. All that part of the army which had advanced on the right, that is, on the road from Yorktown, were massed as fast as they arrived, awaiting orders. Great delay was experienced in getting the troops in position, as there seemed to be no harmony of action. Every general of a division seemed to do what pleased him, without orders from higher authority.

General Sumner was in command of the troops on the field, but from some cause seemed not to be able to combine his forces in such a manner as to bear effectually upon the lines of the enemy. One of the serious difficulties was getting artillery to the front. The roads had become very muddy from the rain during the night, and were blocked up with the immense multitude of wagons, so that artillery could not pass. Here was sadly exemplified the grand defect of our army—the want of organization.

Our army was an enormous heterogeneous mass, without any pretense of a system to centralize and harmonize its movements. An army is not organized by throwing it into brigades and divisions; this is but the first and easiest step. The departments must be so organized that each performs well its part, without interference with another. In this case the quartermaster's department sadly interfered with the others. Every regimental quartermaster was for himself, and, as a natural result, the immense trains were thrown into great disorder, impeding the movements of all the other branches of the service. No one seemed at liberty to bring order out of this confusion; and thus artillery and wagons remained stuck in the mud. This same confusion prevailed in all the departments. We shall take the liberty here to quote at some length from the remarks of the Prince De Joinville, who was at that time a member of General McClellan's staff, an able soldier and an ardent friend of the Commander-in-Chief. Says the Prince:

"The American system of 'every man for himself,' individually applied by officers and soldiers of each corps to one another, is also applied by the corps themselves to their reciprocal relations. There is no special branch of the service whose duty it is to regulate, centralize and direct the movements of the army. In such a case as this of which we are speaking, we should have seen the general staff of a French army taking care that nothing should impede the advance of the troops; stopping a file of wagons here and ordering it out of the road to clear the way; sending on a detail of men there to repair the roadway, or draw a cannon out of the mud in order to communicate to every corps commander the orders of the general-in-chief. Here nothing of the sort is done.

"The want of a general staff was not less severely felt in obtaining and transmitting the information necessary, at the moment of an impending action. No one knew the country; the maps were so defective that they were useless. Little was known about the fortified battle-field on which the army was about to be engaged. Yet this battle-field had been seen and reconnoitered by the troops which had taken part in Stoneman's skirmish. Enough was surely known of it for us to combine a plan of attack, and assign to every commander his own part of the work. No, this was not so. Every one kept his observations to himself; not from any ill-will, but because it was nobody's special duty to do this general work. It was a defect in the organization, and with the best elements in the world, an army that is not organized cannot expect great success. It is fortunate if it escapes disaster."

We may be pardoned for continuing this digression from the narrative, to speak particularly of the disorder in the medical department. The surgeons of regiments were, as a general rule, men of ability, and who were earnestly devoted to the duties of their position. Of course, in so large an army, there were some who were not fitted for their position, either by ability or moral worth; these were exceptions. Yet, while there was a general disposition prevailing in the department to make any sacrifice or submit to any amount of fatigue, in order to relieve the sufferings of those committed to their charge, they labored under the greatest disadvantage from want of proper combination and cooeperation in the staff. Every man was for himself. Each regimental surgeon was expected to look out for the wants of his own men; to erect his hospital tents; to see that the wounded of his regiment were carried off the field; to administer food, dress wounds, and attend to the operative surgery. With all these divers cares, he could hardly be expected to perform any duties well. When any combination of action was effected, the organization was voluntary and temporary, and, of course, wanting in order and efficiency. Added to these difficulties, the medical officer found himself destitute of supplies, and seemingly without any prospect of obtaining them.

It is true that the officers of the medical staff were generally inexperienced in the duties of military surgery, so different from the labors of the physician in civil life; yet, the great trouble was without doubt at head-quarters. The department was directed by an officer who had done good service in the Mexican war, but who by long connection with the regular army, seemed to have become so wedded to the formal precision of military routine, that no contingency was sufficient to move him from his established habits. Here was occasion for dispensing with formalities. Responsibilities should have been assumed, and, if necessary, supplies should have been thrown into the army broadcast, without thought of requisition or receipts. Under the direction of the efficient and gentlemanly surgeon of volunteers, Dr. Letterman, order was at length brought out of the confusion which existed until the battle of Antietam; from which time the medical staff became the most efficient ever known in any army.

To return to our narrative. By noon the battle raged furiously; Hooker's division contesting the field nobly against superior numbers, while our own division held the position on his right, but without coming to any direct engagement aside from being subjected to the fire of artillery. Hooker brought his men gallantly up to the work and at first forced the enemy back, but in turn was driven from the ground he had taken, and only by the most valorous fighting, prevented a rout.

The gallant general and his noble men held the ground alone until the division was fearfully cut up. At length General Kearney, at the head of his division, approached on the Lee's Mills road. General Sumner rode up to him and said quietly, "General, do you know that Hooker is badly cut up?" "No." "He is, and is falling back. Hurry on your division as fast as possible." "How shall I reach him?" said Kearney. "Through yonder strip of woods." Kearney now led his men forward at a rapid pace and very soon came to the relief of the exhausted division. The troops of Hooker were holding their ground against the enemy twenty thousand strong. They had fought for hours with only nine thousand men.

General Hancock of our First brigade, at his own and General Smith's request, was, at three o'clock, allowed to take his own and a part of our Third brigade to the right of the line, where the position of the enemy was very strong by nature, and which was on that account secured with less care than the rest of the line.

A steep wooded bluff rose to a great height in our front, and a mill pond lying at the foot of the bluff and newly dammed by the rebels, served as a moat. Spanning the pond near the dam, was a bridge of logs which they had neglected to destroy. Across this bridge and up a road winding along the side of the bluff, the general led his troops, finding the enemy upon the plateau above, occupying strong redoubts. Artillery was brought to bear upon them and the rebels fled; our forces advancing and occupying the works. The enemy was now reinforced by a brigade of North Carolina troops and charged upon the federals. The Union troops allowed them to approach very near, when they opened a tremendous fire of musketry and artillery upon them. Still the rebels came on until they were within thirty yards of our men. "Now, gentlemen, the bayonet!" cried Hancock, as he rode along the line of battle close to the troops. The men charged upon the rebels, who fell back before the shock, broke and fled, leaving the broad, green wheat field strewed with their dead and wounded.



While the fighting was going on, General Hancock had sent for the remainder of our Third brigade. The order "forward, double quick" was received by the men with one of those wild exulting shouts, such as is only heard on the field of battle; and they rushed forward through the liquid mud, each regiment striving which should first reach the field. But as we reached the scene of conflict, the rebels had fled; leaving the victory with the men in blue.

The regiments engaged in this brilliant affair were, the Forty-third New York, the Forty-ninth Pennsylvania, the Sixth Maine and Fifth Wisconsin, of the First brigade, and the Thirty-third New York and Seventh Maine of the Third brigade.

The rebels, outflanked by the gallant movement of Smith's division, were glad to fall back from before Hooker and Kearney, and seek refuge behind their works. Meanwhile the great body of the army had remained entirely passive; not even having been brought into line of battle. Why some of these troops were not called to the assistance of Hooker, or to render the victory of Hancock more complete, we do not know.

Thus closed the battle of Williamsburgh; a battle fought by two divisions and a part of a third, while the mass of the army remained as idle spectators of the terrible scene. If less than twenty thousand men could drive the rebels from their strong works, what could not that grand army have done had it been brought into action!

General McClellan arrived on the field at five o'clock in the afternoon, and was received with shouts of applause; but the fighting was then over. The general had remained at Yorktown since the morning of the 4th, to superintend personally the shipment of Franklin's division of twelve thousand men; one-half of whom, in order that they might be in readiness at any moment to proceed up the river and head off the enemy, had never been allowed to disembark from the transports which brought them to Yorktown. General McClellan's conduct in spending nearly two days in overseeing personally the embarkation of half or even the whole of a division of men, while one of the most important battles of the war was in progress, leaving it to others to take care of the "little affair at the front," has, by some, been severely censured; while others have as earnestly claimed that the Commander-in-Chief had his own views of the necessity of getting those troops off at once, and the necessity of seeing that supplies of rations, ammunition and war material, were forwarded, was imperative; and that we are to remember that the advance was intrusted to General Sumner; a man in whose ability both he and the army confided. The general telegraphed that night to the Secretary of War: "After arranging for movements up the York river, I was sent for here. I find General Joe Johnston in front of me in strong force, probably greater a good deal than my own.... My entire force is undoubtedly considerably inferior to that of the rebels, who will fight well; but I will do all I can with the force at my disposal."

It was not known that night that we had won such a victory; but when, in the morning, we found the rebels all gone, he telegraphed: "Every hour proves our victory more complete."

In the light of this testimony of the Commander-in-Chief, what a noble record had those three divisions that day made for themselves! They had, according to these dispatches, fought with a force "greater a good deal" than our entire army, and had won a complete victory!

Night closed upon the battle-field. Our division bivouacked around one of the rebel redoubts. It was filled with rebel wounded, whose groans and cries made the night hideous. The ground was a bed of liquid mud, and the rain still poured. No fires were allowed, and the men stood shivering all night rather than lie down in the mud.

The sun rose clear and bright next morning, and the whole army filed into the works deserted by the enemy during the night, and occupied the town of Williamsburgh, a mile or more from the battle-field. All the public buildings in town were filled with the rebel wounded; and the inhabitants were actively engaged in ministering to their wants. Here the army remained three days, waiting for provisions to come up from Yorktown, a distance of fifteen miles. It is a question, why troops, who were afterward accustomed to carry four or even six days' rations, were sent away from Yorktown with one.



CHAPTER VII.

THE MARCH UP THE PENINSULA AND THE ORGANIZATION OF THE SIXTH CORPS.

March up the Peninsula—Joy of the contrabands—Cumberland Landing—The Sixth Corps organized—At White House—On the Chickahominy—Fight at Mechanicsville—Battle of Hanover Court House.

On the ninth of May, after a delay of three days, the Army of the Potomac resumed the pursuit of Johnston's army. The day was fair and bright, and the journey of fifteen miles, to troops as yet little inured to the fatigues of long marches, bore severely upon them. We rested till three o'clock next morning; when orders came to fall into line, and at five we were again toiling over the road. After a hard day's march we halted near New Kent Court House; where General Stoneman, with his cavalry, had a day or two before overtaken the rear-guard of the enemy, who gave him battle. Evidences of the engagement were to be seen all about us, and many wounded cavalrymen were found in the neighboring farm houses. We remained here over the Sabbath and the next day; glad of rest, though anxious to be on the trail of the enemy.

General Franklin's division had already landed, and beaten the rebels at West Point; and the flotilla laden with supplies had also ascended the river thus far.

It was at New Kent Court House that the news of the destruction of the Merrimac, and the possession of Norfolk by General Wool's forces, first reached us, and our hearts swelled with joy at our successes. On the 13th we resumed the march; winding along the banks of the tortuous Pamunkey, enchanted by the lovely scenery which constantly met our gaze. The profusion of flowers in the forests, the bright green meadows, and the broad fields of newly springing wheat, offered a perpetual charm; and as we passed along, the women and negroes watched us with conflicting sentiments of interest. All the white men capable of bearing arms, and every able-bodied negro, had been swept along by the rebel army in its retreat, and none but women and children and aged negroes were now left along the route. At every house the alarmed white people threw out the white flag in token of submission, as though their protection from injury depended upon this symbol of peace.

Great numbers of negroes flocked to the roadside, to welcome the Union army. Their expressions of joy at seeing us were wild and amusing. All hoped we would shortly overtake and destroy the rebel army, their own masters included. Those who had hitherto regarded the relation of master and slave as one of mutual affection, had only to witness these unique demonstrations of rejoicing at our approach, and the seemingly certain destruction of the slave owners, to be convinced that the happiness and contentment claimed for those in servitude was but a worthless fiction. The negroes, gathering in crowds along the wayside, would grasp the hands of the Union soldiers, calling down all manner of blessings upon them, and leaping and dancing in their frantic delight.

One gray-haired old patriarch, surrounded by a numerous group of younger chattels, who were leaping and shouting, exclaimed, in a loud voice, "Bress de Lord! I'se been praying for yous all to come all dis time; and now I'se glad yous got so fur; and I pray de Lord dat yous may keep on, and conquer def and hell and de grabe!" All the others, joining in the chorus, cried, "Bress de Lord!" The master of the old man sat quietly watching the scene, offering no hindrance to these expressions of sympathy; but it is doubtful whether this conduct on the part of his servants was forgotten after the departure of our army. Whatever information the slaves could give concerning the movements, numbers, or probable intentions of the enemy, was communicated gladly, and although this information was not always reliable for accuracy, it was always given in sincerity, and was very often of great service.

Our march on the 13th, was an easy one of six miles. As we reached the brow of a hill overlooking the plain of Cumberland Landing, a scene of imposing beauty was spread out before us. Between us and the broad river, were thousands of troops, parks of artillery, squadrons of cavalry, divisions of infantry; some already in camp, others moving about in order, but seeming, from the distance, to be intermingled in most perfect confusion.

A broad plain stretched far away to the left, beautifully variegated with green pastures, rich groves and fields of grain. Beyond was the Pamunkey; here spreading out into a broad expanse of water, on which was riding the Union flotilla of gunboats and the transport fleet.

Upon this broad plain the whole army assembled. At no other time in the history of the Army of the Potomac, were all its forces gathered within a compass that the eye could take in at a single glance.

Early on the morning of the 14th, the cry, "Fall in!" resounded through the camps, and we proceeded up the river about four miles, and again encamped on its banks. A field of fresh clover served for our bivouac. In this pleasant spot we remained for several days; and while here, an event occurred of no less interest than the organization of the Sixth corps.

Just before the Army of the Potomac embarked for the Peninsula, it was divided, by order of President Lincoln, into five corps of three divisions each. These corps were placed under command, respectively, of Generals McDowell, Sumner, Heintzelman, Keyes and Banks. On leaving for the Peninsula, the First and Fifth corps had been left behind. Now two new corps were to be organized; the Fifth provisional, consisting of the divisions of Porter and Sykes, and the reserve artillery, under command of General Porter; and the Sixth provisional corps, consisting of Franklin's division of the First and Smith's of the Fourth corps. General W. B. Franklin was assigned to the command of the corps.

Franklin's division, now the First division, Sixth corps, under command of H. W. Slocum, had been ordered away from the First corps, to join the army of the Potomac, while we were at Yorktown; and its recent exhibition of gallantry at West Point, had already established for it a reputation for valor. The regiments composing this division were, the First, Second, Third and Fourth New Jersey; regiments trained to the service by the knightly soldier and ardent patriot, Philip S. Kearney, now under command of Colonel Taylor, and afterwards so long and so ably led by General Torbert; the Sixteenth and Twenty-seventh New York, Fifth Maine and Ninety-Sixth Pennsylvania; General Slocum's own brigade, now commanded by Colonel Bartlett; and Newton's brigade: the Eighteenth, Thirty-first and Thirty-second New York, and Ninety-fifth Pennsylvania.

The history of the Second division, General Smith's, we have already traced. The bravery and extraordinary endurance of each of its brigades had been exhibited too often to be questioned.

With such splendid materials for a corps, a brilliant history of great achievements was to be anticipated, and nobly has it wrought out for itself such a history.

No other body of troops has ever made for itself so proud a record. No corps, either in our own army or any other, ever met the enemy so frequently in general battle, and never were more glorious deeds accomplished by troops than were done by these. Never in the course of all their campaigns were either of these two divisions put to rout, and in almost all its encounters the corps held the field as victors.

We were now encamped on the old Custis place; at present owned by General Fitzhugh Lee, of the rebel cavalry service. On every side of us were immense fields of wheat, which, but for the presence of armies, promised an abundant harvest. Day after day passed, in quiet repose, and the Sabbath found us still waiting on the banks of the Pamunkey. It was marvelous that such silence could exist where a hundred thousand men were crowded together, yet almost absolute stillness reigned throughout the vast camp during the whole of this pleasant Sabbath. Save that here and there the notes of Old Hundred or some sacred air was heard from the band of some regiment whose chaplain had gathered his men for religious services, no sound disturbed the universal quiet.

Not far from us was the White House, at the head of navigation, on the Pamunkey. The house was a fine building, once the property of Washington, now in possession of the Lee family. Here the Richmond and York River railroad crossed the Pamunkey, and this was made the base of operations for the army. Here the transports poured out a vast amount of supplies, and under the protection of the flotilla of gunboats, the quartermasters and commissaries commenced their active operations.

Except that a few rails had been torn up, the railroad was in excellent order, and engines and cars were at once placed on the track ready to follow the army on its advance to Richmond.

The Sixth corps proceeded toward the Chickahominy, which it reached at a point several miles above the railroad crossing at Bottom's Bridge, occupying the extreme right of the Union line of battle as formed along that river. The position of the Union army was now as follows: Keyes' corps had crossed the Chickahominy at Bottom's Bridge, and Heintzelman had followed, taking a position between Keyes and the bridge. Sumner was on the railroad, and Franklin on the right near New Bridge; Stoneman's cavalry was on the right of the Sixth corps, and Porter's divisions were in the rear, within supporting distance.

On the 23d, General Stoneman with his cavalry pushed forward toward Mechanicsville, supported by Davidson's brigade. The brigade halted for the night near Beaver Dam creek, a marshy stream pouring into the Chickahominy. On the following morning the brigade again pushed forward, the men making their way with great difficulty through a swamp, then plunging through the stream, then forcing their way through brambles and briars, and again wading through the water; until the men seemed to have become amphibious. They at length found the enemy near the little village of Mechanicsville.

The brigade, with Wheeler's battery, formed in line of battle on some commanding grounds, and quietly rested for the night. On the morning of the 24th, the Seventy-seventh and part of the Thirty-third were ordered to advance toward the village and reconnoiter the position. Hardly had the advance commenced before the rebels opened upon the two commands a fierce cannonade, which forced our men to lie down, that the shells might pass over them. Wheeler's battery responded nobly to the rebel artillery, and presently General Davidson ordered Colonel McKean to charge the village with his regiment. The men rose to their feet and started forward with a yell. Down the hill they rushed impetuously, cheering and yelling; but the two rebel regiments, the Seventh and Eighth Georgia, startled by the shouts, seized their muskets and ran; firing but one parting salute. Their battery also limbered up and beat a hasty retreat; and as our men reached the village they were seen lashing their horses into a run, and in a moment they disappeared altogether down the road.

In their haste the rebels forgot to carry off their knapsacks, canteens and haversacks; and our boys gathered them up to be kept till called for. They had also left a great many guns and cartridge boxes; and a flag, which the Seventy-seventh bore away in triumph.

On the 26th of May, the enemy was discovered in considerable force at Hanover Court House, to the right and rear of our army. A part of Porter's corps was sent to meet this rebel force, and if possible drive it from its position. After a fatiguing march through mud and rain, General Emory, with his own brigade, and other troops of the corps, came up with the enemy near Hanover Court House, and at once commenced advancing slowly against the line of the enemy, when, being reinforced by part of Martindale's brigade, a charge was ordered and the rebels were routed. They fled precipitately, leaving one of their guns in the hands of our troops.

Being reinforced, the rebels turned upon our troops, but were gallantly held by Martindale's brigade until General Porter brought a large force to the field. The rebels were again attacked and completely routed. They left about two hundred of their dead on the field to be buried by our men. Seven hundred prisoners were captured, beside two railroad trains, a twelve pound gun and many small arms. Our own loss amounted to about fifty killed and more than three hundred wounded and missing.



CHAPTER VIII.

ON THE CHICKAHOMINY.

Gaines' Farm—The line of battle—Battle of Seven Pines—Sedgwick and Kearney to the rescue—Hooker's charge—A lost opportunity—Golden's Farm—Ditching—Malaria—Chickahominy fevers—A German regiment—Stuart's raid.

Davidson's command was withdrawn from its position on Beaver Dam creek on the 26th of May. Moving down the river about five miles, it encamped with the rest of the Sixth corps on the farm of Dr. Gaines, a noted rebel, where it remained until June 5th. The camps were within easy range of the enemy's guns, which were planted on the opposite side of the river, and our pickets could observe those of the rebels as they walked their beats.

Few more charming places than Gaines' Farm could be found on the Peninsula. The broad wheat fields, alternating with wooded hills, afforded a scene of enchantment to the weary soldiers. A single wheat field contained four hundred and fifty acres, and a delightful grove in rear of the superb old mansion, furnished a cool retreat during the intense heat of the day. The extensive gardens were filled with rare exotics and most beautiful native plants and trees, and birds of varied and brilliant plumage sported among the flowering shrubs and charmed the air with their lively notes. Near the river side stood a large barn well filled with tobacco, from which the boys of the corps did not hesitate to lay in a full supply.

In the rear of the corps was Liberty Hall, the birthplace of Patrick Henry. Now it was used as a hospital, and hundreds of soldiers, worn out with fatigue or burning with fevers, occupied the house and hospital tents surrounding it.

Our men were employed in doing picket duty, and in building corduroy roads and bridges. The river, scarcely restrained by banks, was rising rapidly from the continued fall of rain, and at one time the pickets of our division, including the Thirty-third New York, were found in the morning surrounded by water; the rain having within three hours risen so rapidly that many were standing in water above their waists, while others were clinging to bushes for support. Boats were procured, and the drenched pickets were removed from their disagreeable positions.

The army was divided into two wings, one on the south and one on the north side of the Chickahominy. The line of battle was in the form of a V: Keyes' and Heintzelman's corps on a line from Bottom's Bridge to Seven Pines, forming the left arm of the V, and Franklin's, Sumner's and Porter's on the north bank of the Chickahominy, from Bottom's Bridge to Gaines' Farm, the right arm.

Keyes' corps, now composed of Casey's and Couch's divisions, had crossed the river at Bottom's Bridge on the 24th, and after considerable skirmishing with the enemy, had established itself on the road from Richmond to Williamsburgh, about six miles from Richmond, and as far from the Chickahominy, at a fork in the road called Seven Pines. Heintzelman's corps had followed, and occupied a position in the rear near the river. Casey's division occupied an advance position, and Couch the second line. One of the roads from this point, called the nine-mile road to Richmond, crossed the Richmond and York River railroad north of Seven Pines, at a place called Fair Oaks. The country was wooded and marshy, and General Casey was not able to throw his pickets out more than a thousand yards in advance of his line of battle. Both divisions at once intrenched themselves, and slashed the forests, that any approach of the enemy might be discovered, and to widen the sweep of their guns. Here the two divisions remained, having occasional skirmishes with the enemy, until the morning of the 31st of May.

During the night before, the rain had fallen in torrents. Thunders rolled along the sky, and the heavens blazed with perpetual flashes of lightning. The morning found the earth drenched by the floods, and the men of Casey's division rose from their beds of mud to fight the battle of Seven Pines.

It became evident to General Casey early in the day that the enemy designed to attack him in force. He accordingly ordered his division under arms, and made such dispositions of his forces as seemed best calculated to resist the onset.

At half-past twelve the attack was commenced. Large bodies of rebels emerged from the cover of the woods, and at once commenced a brisk fire of musketry and artillery, driving in the picket line, and pressing forward against the Union line of intrenchments. The numbers of the enemy were now seen to be greatly disproportionate to those of the single division opposed to them, and General Casey called for help. Couch's division was under arms, acting as support, but not yet engaged. Some of the new troops, thus pressed by overwhelming numbers broke and retreated in disorder; but the division at large nobly withstood the mighty host which assailed it in front, flank and rear. The forces of the enemy constantly increased; and the single division was now fairly invested by the exultant foe, who pressed forward, unmindful of the losses inflicted by Casey's troops. Again and again the enemy came on in masses, receiving the shot and shells, which tore open their ranks, closing up the gaps, and pushing steadily on to the assault. Against these repeated attacks of superior numbers of confident troops, who constantly arrived in fresh numbers, and, forming under cover of the woods, rushed against our lines, Casey's division held its ground three hours, until almost half its number were destroyed. The execution done on the rebels was great. All means of transportation at their command, were brought into requisition to carry off the wounded to Richmond; and their dead lay piled upon the bloody field. The white-haired veteran, General Casey, was present wherever the danger seemed greatest. Riding along his lines, encouraging his troops, and making his dispositions for repelling the overwhelming assaults, his heroism inspired bravery in the hearts of the men, and prevented defeat from becoming a rout. General Keyes was directing the movements of the second line, held by General Couch. Portions of the division were rallied, and with the aid of Couch's troops and a brigade of Kearney's division, which that never tiring general had just led on to the scene of conflict, the attempt was made to retake the line of works just lost, but without success.

By this time General Heintzelman had arrived with his corps; and orders were given to fall back to a third line. The enemy made one more desperate attempt to crush the retreating division, but they were repulsed with fearful loss, and here commenced the turning of the tide in the conflict.

The line of battle as now formed was nearly two miles in the rear of the position of the morning, at Fair Oaks.

Heintzelman's and Keyes' corps at once proceeded to strengthen this position, and before dark the brave fellows of Sedgwick's division, of Sumner's corps, were on the ground, ready to assist in repelling the progress of the enemy. Richardson's division, not far behind, arrived at sunset; and now the Union army was prepared for any attempt which the rebels might see fit to make. The efforts which the enemy were now making to break through our flank on the left at White Oak Swamp, were, by this timely arrival of Sedgwick, thwarted. Had the confederates succeeded in this, the retreat of Keyes' corps and that part of Heintzelman's on the ground must have been cut off, and our army destroyed. The rebels, not satisfied with a partial victory, and determined to destroy the left wing of our army, then thrust beyond the river, renewed their assaults, and again and again pushed forward. Gathering in masses under cover of the forest, they would dash upon our lines with impetuous fury; only to be sent reeling back by a hurricane of leaden and iron hail. Sedgwick and the intrepid Kearney fought their divisions with greatest skill; and by their own example animated and encouraged their men. Night closed upon the scene; and at eight o'clock the fighting had ceased. The rebels, so exultant at their success in the early part of the day, were now hopeless of turning their victory to any good account; for their last assaults had met with such terrible repulses, that to renew the attack in force in the morning, would be but a useless waste of life to them. Still, they held their ground, and on the morning of June 1st, made some demonstrations against parts of our line, which were gallantly met.

Finally, General Hooker, who here sustained the enviable reputation he had so nobly earned at Williamsburgh, led his command across the open space in front of our line, a space not more than one-fourth of a mile wide, beyond which the ground was interrupted by forests, to attack the enemy.

With quick and steady step, the well trained division advanced across the field, deploying to the right and left; and before half crossing the open space their pace was quickened to a run; constantly firing as they dashed forward on the enemy.

Presently the edge of the forest was reached; and here considerable opposition was met with; yet, after a moment's halt, the division again pushed forward into the woods. The din of arms was heard for a few moments, then the firing ceased, and our troops were in possession of the ground.

The rebels were, in their turn, now panic-stricken; and hundreds of them rushed back to the confederate capital, spreading the alarm, and declaring that the Yankees were about to walk into the city.

It was doubtless a sad mistake that this victory was not followed up. The rebels, who had greatly outnumbered us in the fight of the day before, were now themselves outnumbered. They had suffered severe repulses on the evening before, and on this day their rear-guard had been whipped by General Hooker.

A renewal of the attack in force on the part of the Union army would have probably resulted in the capture of the beleaguered city. As it was, the commander of the Union army was on the north side of the Chickahominy, many miles from the scene of action, and no order for a forward movement was given.

Such was the battle of Seven Pines or Fair Oaks. Fought for the most part, by a single division of less than six thousand men, against the combined forces of Longstreet, Hill, Smith and Huger; all under the immediate command of the Commander-in-Chief of the rebel army, General Johnston.

General Johnston had become satisfied, from the reports of his scouts, that only Keyes' corps, of two divisions, was across the Chickahominy. Believing that the bad state of the roads and the swollen condition of the Chickahominy, would effectually prevent reinforcements reaching this corps before he could fall upon it and crush it, he had determined to bring an overwhelming force against it. Accordingly, the divisions of Longstreet, Hill, Smith and Huger, were placed in position to make a sudden and destructive assault upon the front and flanks of Casey's exposed division, in the confident expectation of annihilating it. But, instead of giving way before this avalanche, as Johnston had contemplated, the regiments of the division, with few exceptions, manfully held their ground for three hours.

The Commander-in-Chief reported to the Secretary of War that Casey's division "gave way unaccountably and discreditably." Five days later he promised to modify his charge, if he found occasion; but it was only in his final report, made many months after leaving the army, he was constrained to acknowledge the good conduct of the division—an act of tardy justice to deserving men.

Notwithstanding the great disparity in the numbers of those engaged on the rebel and Union sides, the losses were nearly equal. The Union army lost four thousand five hundred and seventeen in killed and wounded, and one thousand two hundred and twenty-two missing. Nearly one-half of all these losses were from Casey's and Couch's divisions. General Johnston reported the rebel loss in Longstreet's and Hill's commands at four thousand two hundred and thirty-six.

Among the trophies of the enemy, were ten pieces of artillery and four stands of colors.

With these trophies, they were satisfied to boast their victory; regardless of the fact that they had been the assailants in superior numbers, and had been repulsed with fearful slaughter, and that the only fruit of their boasted victory was a few guns and colors, as an offset for the loss of thousands of their soldiers. General Johnston himself was among the rebel wounded, and was forced to give over the command to another.

On the other hand, the Union army might, had the corps on the north bank of the Chickahominy promptly followed that of General Sumner across the river, have easily entered Richmond. But the hesitancy which characterized the movements of the army lost to us all the advantages of success. Early next day the treacherous river had risen to such an extent as to render crossing almost impossible; so the army remained as the battle of Fair Oaks had left it; three corps on the south, and two on the north side of the Chickahominy, separated by an almost unsurmountable obstacle.

From our camp at Gaines' Farm, the men of the Sixth corps could see the smoke of battle and hear the roar of artillery and musketry; but were not able to go to the assistance of their fellows.

The distance from Gaines' Farm to Fair Oaks was, in a direct line, scarcely more than four miles, but as all communications with the opposite side of the river were by way of Bottom's Bridge, the distance was about fifteen miles. The Vermont brigade essayed a crossing in our own front on the afternoon of the second day of the fight, with the view of rendering assistance on the other side, but the attempt was abandoned.

General McClellan, with General Hancock and other officers, took a position in the line of our Third brigade, on Sunday, where they remained watching the progress of the battle from afar until darkness shut out the view.

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, destitute 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 skirmishing 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 multitudes 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 pushing these works further toward the front. On the 18th, we were joined by the other division, Slocum'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 passing 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 Washington, 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 assistance.

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 dashing 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 shipping 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—Slocum'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 Massachusetts 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 skirmishing 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 bloody 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.

Our men were exultingly pushing forward, determined to drive them from their pits also, when an order from General McClellan directed General Hooker to retire with his division to the original position. Here was evidently a sad misconception of the state of affairs, for, when the Commander-in-Chief, an hour later, arrived on the field and consulted with General Hooker, the men were ordered forward once more to occupy the ground they had once taken and surrendered.

This time there was less resistance. The rebels steadily gave way, giving up their rifle pits and yielding the whole of the open field. Under cover of the forest beyond the field they made another stand, and late in the afternoon a brigade charged upon our lines; but they were bravely met by men of Grover's brigade, and driven back, leaving three hundred of their dead on the field.

By the action of this day, our line was advanced on the left nearly a mile. The victory, such as it was, cost us six hundred and forty men in killed and wounded. The men remained under arms all night, in readiness to meet the frequent sorties of the enemy, who intended nothing more serious than preventing reinforcements from being sent to the right of our line.

Little did General Lee heed these operations on our left. It was all the better for his plan that the attention of our army should be engaged in this direction. He was ready now to execute his plan of raising the siege of Richmond; and a tremendous force had been massed against our right, ready to advance upon it and our rear, with the hope of cutting the Union army off from its supplies, and placing it in the greatest jeopardy.

Let us, for a moment, recall the position of our army, which, since the first battle of Fair Oaks, has been somewhat changed. Porter's corps, consisting of McCall's, Morrell's and Sykes' divisions, still held the right, on the north bank of the Chickahominy, at Gaines' Farm and Mechanicsville. The several bridges which had been constructed since the 1st of June, formed avenues of communication between the two portions of the army separated by the river. Next, near the river, and opposite Porter's corps, was our own Sixth corps, Slocum's and Smith's divisions, Smith's nearest the stream. Then, on our left was Sumner's corps, Sedgwick's and Richardson's divisions; and finally, on the left of all, was Heintzelman, with his divisions under Hooker and Kearney, and Couch's division, of Keyes' corps. Casey's shattered division was in the rear, guarding Bottom's Bridge and the road to the White House.

The line stretched from Mechanicsville across the river to Golden's Farm, and thence to Fair Oaks.

The whole of this extensive line was protected by earthworks of marvelous magnitude, and whole forests of timber slashed in front of some parts of the line formed almost impenetrable abattis.

On the other hand, Lee's army had been as actively engaged in ditching and throwing up redoubts, and Richmond was surrounded by a cordon of most powerful works. Stonewall Jackson had been recalled from the Shenandoah Valley; and now, with an army of thirty thousand men, a very large proportion of them being men of his original army, he hung upon our right and rear, ready to come down upon our communications and flank like an avalanche.

Scarcely had General McClellan finished his dispatch to the Secretary of War, in which he announced the glad tidings that he had got his pickets in the right place, preparatory to a general advance, before he was aroused from his illusion by the intelligence that the pickets on the right were being driven in. He had already, during the day, learned something of Jackson's position, and it was now easy to divine the intention of that energetic chief.

During the night, Hill and Longstreet crossed the upper Chickahominy; and, by rapid marches, confronted the pickets of McCall's division at Mechanicsville before daylight on the morning of the 26th. Jackson, delayed by our skirmishers, was still behind. Without waiting for Jackson, Hill ordered an attack by daylight. Our pickets were forced back upon the main line, and the battle of Mechanicsville commenced. McCall's division, consisting of Reynolds', Meade's and Seymour's brigades, was strongly posted behind Beaver Dam creek; a stream about twelve feet wide, wooded on either side, with water waist deep, and a steep bank on the side held by the Union forces. Along this bank, timber had been felled, rifle pits dug, and other careful preparations made for meeting an attack. The only accessible places for artillery were the two roads which crossed the stream, one at Ellison's Mills, and the other a mile above. Against these two points the rebels directed their principal efforts. Hill's division made the first assault. Clearing their rifle pits, his men rushed forward with a yell, gaining the creek, within a hundred yards of our line. Here the creek and the almost impenetrable abattis checked their progress, and a murderous fire of shot, shells, cannister and musketry was opened upon them, which threw them into confusion, and repulsed them with fearful loss. Again and again the charge was renewed; each time with equal want of success. More and more grand and terrible the battle became, as the combatants struggled with each other at close range. Thus far there had been no such terrific artillery firing during the war. The uproar was incessant, and sublime beyond description. Finding the position too strong to be carried by direct assault, the confederates fell back to their rifle pits; leaving their many dead and wounded on the ground. The men of McCall's division, securely posted behind their breastworks, had suffered comparatively little; our loss not exceeding three hundred in killed and wounded, out of the six thousand belonging to the brigades engaged.

On the other hand, the rebels had lost heavily. From their own official reports, it is known that of the twelve thousand engaged, the loss in killed and wounded was fifteen hundred; Ripley's single brigade losing five hundred and seventy-four men.

Both Davis and Lee were present on the field, directing in person the movements, and exposed to the fire where the battle was fiercest. General McClellan was at the head-quarters of General Porter, where he remained until the close of the battle, when he rode over the field.

From the camp of the Sixth corps, the battle-field was not more than four or five miles distant in a direct line, though by way of the bridge it was much farther.

We could watch the columns of smoke as they rolled up from the scene of carnage, and see the flashes of bursting shells, like sheets of lightning in dark thunder-clouds, and hear the tremendous roar of arms. In the afternoon, as the rebels charged upon a certain part of our lines, we could watch the movements of both armies. Our only part in the engagement was to stand to arms, ready to rush to the assistance of those on the other side of the river, at a moment's notice. In the evening, the news of our success spread through the army, creating the wildest joy. Men who had, by constant hardships, and by continually looking on death, almost forgotten the feelings of joy, now broke out in loud shouts of gladness; and for the first time in many weeks the bands played those heart-stirring national airs, which in times past had been wont to fill the hearts of the soldiers with enthusiasm.

The night passed in constant watchfulness, the men resting upon their arms; for a renewal of the attack might be expected at any moment. Still, the men of the whole of the left wing of the army were exulting in the glad hope that in the morning we were to march into Richmond, almost without opposition; and that their high hopes of success were to be speedily realized. The prize which they had so often been promised, seemed almost within their grasp. Men shook hands with each other, sung patriotic songs, and shouted in greatest glee.

Bands continued to ring out their notes of gladness until long after nightfall; general officers rode about announcing a grand victory; all was the most intense excitement; and the men lay down upon their arms to dream of reveling in the streets of Richmond before another night. For weeks, even the drum calls and the bugle notes had not been heard in our camps. Now, as if suddenly waked from a long slumber, the strains of the bugle and the roll of the drum were added to the general rejoicing.

It was known that the rebel troops engaged were not those of Jackson. He then must be working around to our rear. He was known to have a very large force; not less than thirty thousand. It was evident that our communications were in great danger, and that unless the main force of our army, now on the right bank of the Chickahominy, were hastily concentrated on the left bank, we could not expect to hold the line to the Pamunkey another day. If this were done, the rebels could easily prevent our retreat to the James river, and leave us on the banks of the Pamunkey. Accordingly, General McClellan gave up all hope of being able to maintain the position of that portion of the army on the north side of the Chickahominy, and at once issued orders with a view of preparing for a change of base. The quartermaster at White House was directed to "send cars to the last moment, and load them with provisions and ammunition." "Load every wagon you have," said the dispatch, "with subsistence, and send them to Savage's Station. If you are obliged to abandon White House, burn everything you cannot get off."

The quartermaster was directed, also, to throw all his supplies, not burned or sent to the army, up the James river, and there establish depots of supplies. General Casey, who was now in command of the guard at White House, was instructed to see these orders carried out. He burned immense quantities of stores, consisting of clothing, subsistence, and other war material, and then hastily marched his force to rejoin the army.

The evening of the 26th was passed in gladness over our victory; but while the army was rejoicing at this temporary success, it was losing one of the grandest opportunities ever presented it for entering the rebel capital. The whole plan of Lee had been based upon a false calculation; and had this mistake been improved by our commanders, the history of the war would have been entirely changed. Both Lee and Davis believed that the main body of our army was on the north side of the Chickahominy; whereas, of the five corps constituting our army, only one, that of Porter, remained on that side. Under this erroneous impression, Lee had brought nearly the whole of his army across the river to assail the Union army on its right. This was known to our generals, for while positive information had been received that Jackson, with his large army, was making for our rear, the prisoners taken during the day were from Hill's command, and from them it was known that the troops of A. P. Hill, Longstreet and D. H. Hill, were confronting us on the right. Thus, between our main force, of over seventy-six thousand men, and Richmond, less than twenty-five thousand rebels guarded their extensive line of works. A concentrated assault of the four corps on the south side of the river must have resulted in the utter rout of the force opposed to them, and the road to Richmond would have been opened.

But the error of General Lee was never suspected, and this grand opportunity was lost.

During the night of the 26th, the heavy artillery and baggage of Porter's corps was all sent across the river. McCall's whole division, except a line of pickets left as a blind, also fell back five miles below, to the vicinity of the bridge at Gaines' Farm, where the three divisions of the corps united.

The astonishment of the men on the south side of the river on discovering, in the morning, that Porter's corps had fallen back, was only equaled by their mortification and disappointment, as they saw the long lines of rebels advancing in the gray of the morning against our retreating column.

They had believed, when night came on, that our arms had achieved the first of a series of victories which was to give us the rebel capital. Now they saw that our army was already in retreat, and they gazed at the long train of artillery and wagons, which had parked near us, with downcast faces. From our camp, Porter's division could be distinctly seen, and we could watch the movements of the rebels as they arrived upon the highlands, formed their line on the range of hills opposite Porter, and planted their guns near the large barn on Dr. Gaines' farm.

The position of Porter's corps was a strong one; and he was ordered to hold it till night, and then to cross the bridge and burn it after him; the upper bridge having been burned during the night. The country between the two lines was rolling, somewhat wooded, but in parts cleared. Both parties went to work to cut down trees in their front.

The rebel forces, who supposed on the 26th that they were fighting our main army, were surprised, on the morning of the 27th, to find that only a picket line opposed them. They were early astir; and advancing against the slender line, drove it back. The whole rebel force advanced cautiously; A. P. Hill and Longstreet bearing to the right, while D. H. Hill turned to the left, to unite with Jackson, who was supposed to be coming in from the rear. Owing to the uneven country over which they were advancing, their march was slow; for they might fall upon a Union line of battle behind any rounding swell of land.

It was afternoon before the rebel army had fully formed its line on Gaines' Farm. The position of that army was nearly that of the same army when Grant attacked it at Coal Harbor two years later, only it was faced about. The battle opened about one o'clock, by skirmishing on both sides; but it was not till an hour later that Hill's division dashed across the open space, rushing through the swamp, and under a severe fire from our batteries and musketry, pushed up the slope on which was posted our line. The confederate troops advanced almost up to Sykes' line of battle on the right, and in other parts of the line actually forced back the Union troops; but they were able to hold their position only a short time, when they were forced back with great loss.

Longstreet now advanced against the left of our line, but he too met with a stern reception, and he withdrew to rearrange his plan of attack.

By this time Jackson was approaching, and now the overwhelming forces of the enemy promised to crush the single corps; but Slocum's division of our Sixth corps was ordered to the relief of the Fifth corps, and arrived at four o'clock. The division was sent into the fight at once, each brigade being ordered separately to strengthen the weak points of the line. Thus, while the division fought bravely, and suffered equally in proportion with the Fifth corps, its incorporation with that corps for the time deprived it of the honors to which it was justly entitled.

Bartlett, with his brigade, went to the aid of Sykes, who was doubtfully struggling to hold his line; but who now, by the aid of the gallant brigade, was able to hurl the assailants back from his front.

The rebel line being completed, Longstreet, A. P. Hill, and Jackson all up with their troops, a general advance was made.

The charge was made with great spirit, the rebels rushing over the open ground and floundering through the swamp under a most writhing fire, but the position of our forces was still too strong for them. At all points they were repulsed with terrible slaughter. First on the right, where Sykes' regulars, supported by Bartlett's brigade, withstood the onset of Hill, the disordered and disheartened confederates began to scatter in all directions.

One of the confederate generals reported that had not his men fallen back themselves he would have ordered it. "Men were leaving the field," says another general, "in every direction; two regiments ... were actually marching back under fire. Men were skulking from the woods in a shameful manner. The woods on our left and rear were full of troops in safe cover, from which they never stirred." Such was the effect of the reception given by the regulars. On our left they met with no better success. These, too, fell back in disorder. Now a desperate attempt was made against our center. The tactics with which we afterwards became so familiar on the part of the rebels were brought to bear. This was in massing troops against certain parts of our line and making desperate onslaughts with a view of breaking the line. The forces of Jackson, Hill and Longstreet threw themselves fiercely against our works, but without being able to drive our men back. Here it was that the First and Third brigades of Slocum's division saved the wavering line, and all the fury of the rebels was spent in vain. General Porter directed Newton's brigade to its position in the center; Newton leading the Thirty-first New York and Ninety-fifth Pennsylvania into the woods on one side, and the gallant Colonel Matheson with the Eighteenth and Thirty-second entering on the other, both in the face of a destructive fire. The rebels charged upon the brigade and gallantly the charge was met. Newton, seeing the rebel line waver before the fire of his men, shouted "Forward!" and the impetuous regiments cleared the woods and drove the rebels more than seven hundred yards. But the confederates, reinforced, pressed hard upon them with overwhelming numbers, and Newton demanded aid. Regiments from the New Jersey brigade rushed to the assistance of their brothers of the Third brigade, cheering as they advanced, and the position was held until the left wing of Porter's corps gave way. For two hours the conflict on this part of the line raged with terrible violence; the columns surging backward and forward, neither party being able to gain any permanent advantage. Never had we heard such volleys of musketry as now rolled along the borders of the swampy Chickahominy. Artillery was less used; a strip of pine woods intervening between the position occupied by some of our batteries and the rebel line preventing an accurate range. The attempt to break our center was abandoned, and now immense forces were brought against the left. The roar of battle became more loud than before. The thousand continuous volleys of musketry mingled in one grand tumultuous concert of death; while the booming of artillery, which was now brought more into action, shook the earth for miles around. Under the pressure of overwhelming numbers, one brigade gave way; and another on the extreme left, finding itself outflanked, fought its way back to the upper bridge, which had been partially destroyed during the night, and, crossing to the south side of the river, gathered its shattered regiments behind the breastworks of our Second division.

For two hours and a half the battle had raged fiercely on this part of the line, and as these brigades on the right gave way, the confusion spread all along. The rebels, seeing the disorder, and encouraged by their success on the left, came on with redoubled fury; and the whole line gave way, and fell back to some high grounds near the bridge. Here two brigades from the Third corps appeared as reinforcements, and the retreat was checked. The Fifth corps, with Slocum's division and the two brigades from the Third corps, were able to hold their position on the north side of the river till after dark.

But we had been beaten, and our losses were very great. Twenty-two pieces of artillery fell into the hands of the enemy. We lost two thousand prisoners, among whom was General Reynolds, commanding one of McCall's brigades; and our killed and wounded numbered about four thousand. The rebels had suffered greater losses in men, nine thousand five hundred having been killed or wounded. The action, on the part of the rebels, had been directed by General Lee in person, who was on the field during the whole action, controlling the movements of his troops, and attending to the details of the fight. On our part, the battle had been fought entirely under the direction of General Porter. General McClellan, believing he could best watch the movements at all parts of his line from a central position, had remained during the day at the Trent House, five miles from the scene of action, without deeming it necessary even to ride down to the river by the Woodbury bridge. (McClellan's Report.)

Meantime, while the battle raged with fury on the north side of the Chickahominy, there was active work in our own front. Our Second division, at Golden's Farm, was joined on the left by Sedgwick's division, of the Third corps. The two divisions held the key to Richmond; for, had the brave men composing them, under the leadership of such men as Smith and Sedgwick, been ordered to break through the rebel line, there was no power in their front to restrain them. The rebels, aware of this, and designing to prevent reinforcements from going to Porter, made frequent feints all along our line. Now with pickets, and anon, gathering a considerable force, they would advance upon some part of our works. From the nature of the ground, they could appear in large force at one point, then withdrawing, pass under cover of the woods and reappear at another point; thus keeping up the idea of a large force.

These skirmishes and the artillery duels had been kept up all day, to the annoyance of all.

Just at sunset, Davidson's brigade was ordered to cross the river, by the Woodbury bridge, to reinforce the Fifth corps. Preparations for moving were not complete, when the enemy opened a fierce fire of artillery and musketry. The idea of reinforcing the Fifth corps was at once abandoned, and we hastily took refuge from the howling missiles behind our breastworks. The artillery firing increased, until the scene became in the highest degree exciting.

Our guns were answering the rebels with great spirit, hurling shells fast and furiously, and clouds of smoke rolled up from both the opposing lines. At length the rebel infantry was brought forward to charge our line. Hancock's brigade of our Second division, and Burns' of Sedgwick's division, were farthest in advance. Hancock had taken up a critical position in front of the line of works, where his brigade was supporting a strong battery. Against these two advance brigades the enemy pounced with the hope of routing them by this sudden onset. Against Hancock they made the most desperate attempt, but with no success further than driving in the picket line. In return, the rebels were hurried back to the cover of the woods from whence they came, leaving many dead and wounded on the field. While the First brigade was thus bravely withstanding the assault of the rebels, the Third brigade and the Second occupied a second line, acting as support, but neither were actively engaged; yet several of the regiments in the second line lost men by the shells.

During the night our Third brigade relieved Hancock's regiments and remained in possession of the advanced position until afternoon next day. We had moved from our old position while the fight was in progress, and had left everything except arms and ammunition.

We could hear the sound of ambulances in the front where the rebels were gathering up their wounded, till after midnight; and toward morning they made a sally upon a part of the line, but were quickly repulsed.

June 28th, the men of Davidson's brigade who had been ordered the day before to leave haversacks, canteens, blankets and tents, found in the morning that their camp was occupied by another division, tired and hungry, who had lost their blankets in the fights of the two days before, and who had now appropriated the haversacks and blankets of our boys to their own use. Some confusion occurred upon making this discovery, but our boys soon helped themselves to substitutes and bore their loss on the whole very patiently.

Our picket line was relieved at 9 A.M., but before the whole line was changed the rebel batteries opened upon the moving companies a concentrated fire from twenty pieces of artillery, putting a stop to the process. Shot and shell came tearing through our camps in every direction, crashing through trees, throwing up great clouds of dust, riddling tents and alarming the cooks and contraband servants who remained in camp.

This artillery practice continued for an hour without eliciting much reply from our side, as our guns had been nearly all withdrawn from the front to join the train preparatory to the retreat.

The rebels ceased their fire and we inferred that they had withdrawn to some other point; but at two o'clock the mistake was discovered. A brigade of rebels was seen to leap over their breastworks and rush toward our line with yells and shouts like so many madmen. Our picket line was forced back before this impetuous charge, the pickets retreating to the main line.

The Thirty-third New York held the principal part of the picket line, but two companies from the Forty-ninth Pennsylvania of Hancock's brigade, and a detachment from the Seventy-seventh New York also guarded a part of the line in front of the Second division.

A part of the detachment from the Seventy-seventh held a small advance redoubt or lunette which had been thrown up by Hancock's men. Over this work the rebels rushed, unmindful of the bullets sent by the skirmishers, and the guard was compelled to retreat in haste.

But all did not leave that picket line.

One youth, as brave a boy as ever shouldered a musket, John Ham, of the Seventy-seventh regiment, had sworn never to retreat before the enemy. Faithful to his word, when the handful of pickets were compelled to retreat (and this was the first time that any part of his regiment had ever fallen back before the enemy), he stood his ground, loading and firing as rapidly as possible, alone defending the redoubt!

The rebels pressed upon him, and he fell riddled with bullets. When, later in the day, we had driven the confederates back to their works, we recovered his body, pierced by bullets and bayonets.

As the rebels neared our main line of battle, they were met by a withering fire from our men, and, after maintaining the contest for a few moments, they broke and fled in confusion, leaving the ground thickly strewed with dead and wounded. Not satisfied with this repulse, they reformed and came on again; this time with less audacity than at first. Again a murderous fire compelled them to fall back, leaving more of their number on the field. Among their wounded was Colonel Lamar, who was in command of the charging regiments.

He was brought into our lines by Sergeant Bemis and another soldier of the Seventy-seventh. He had been formerly a mischievous member of congress from Georgia.

The final repulse of the rebels was made more complete and more fatal to them by the timely aid of a section of Mott's battery, which had come up and opened an enfilading fire upon them from the left. Joyous cheers went up from our men as they saw the rebels fleeing in all directions, and it was only by the peremptory orders of their commanders that they were restrained from following the flying enemy.

A company of about fifteen rebels threw out a white flag and voluntarily surrendered themselves. Fifty dead rebels and one hundred wounded remained in our front, whom their comrades were allowed to remove, under flag of truce.

The Thirty-third New York had, during this engagement, sustained the principal shock of the enemy's charge; and with that gallantry for which they bore during their two years of service an enviable reputation, they met the charge and repulsed the enemy.

By the retreat of the Fifth corps to the south side of the Chickahominy, which was accomplished during the night of the 27th and 28th, the rebel army was allowed to approach the river at Gaines' Farm. By this movement the camps of Davidson's brigade, which were upon the extreme right of our line, near the river, and the two forts we had erected, were rendered untenable; for the rebel guns shelled the whole position with ease. Our men went in squads and brought away the most valuable property, including regimental papers and the knapsacks and blankets. A few days before this, our whole corps, as well as the other corps of the army, had been supplied with an abundance of new tents. Staff and company officers had their wall tents, and the private soldiers their shelters. All these were destroyed by cutting them with knives; as it was known that any attempt to remove them would be discovered by the rebels, who would at once open all their batteries upon us.

Now, the feelings of the men underwent a terrible revolution. It was, for the first time, told them that the army must retreat in all haste to the James river! Our brave fellows had looked with sad faces at Porter's retreating column; but that was felicity compared with what they now experienced. Even when the right wing was forced across the river, they still had faith that their bravery was to be rewarded with victory.

Now, they felt that all was lost. General Davidson rode through the camps, and announced to the commanding officers of his regiments the mysterious information, with directions to get off a few valuable articles and abandon all else.

Already, by Porter's retreat, the brave fellows in Liberty Hall Hospital, mangled and sick, groaning with wounds, and delirious with fevers, were abandoned, deserted, to fall into the hands of an enemy known to be merciless.

And now the siege of Richmond was to be abandoned, and the men who but two days before had exulted in the glad hope of a speedy entrance into the city, which even now lay just within our grasp, were to turn their backs as fugitives before their enemies! It was a time of humiliation and sorrow. Every man was weighed down with a terrible anxiety. Officers hurried to and fro, silently and hastily forwarding the preparations for the retreat. The great caravan of army trains was on its way under the direction of scores of officers, and with it were escorts of cavalry and infantry.