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 Washington, 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 Washington, 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 Washington 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 shipping 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 Washington, 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 Washington, 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.
CHAPTER XII.
RETREAT FROM THE PENINSULA, AND GENERAL POPE"S BULL RUN CAMPAIGN.
Premonitions of a change of base--The transfer commenced--Marching down the Peninsula--On board transports--A contrast--Arrival at Alexandria--Unaccountable delays--General Pope"s campaign--An obstinate general--Causes of Pope"s failure.
Early in August, rumors were floating about the army, that General McClellan had received positive orders to transfer the Army of the Potomac to the front of Washington, there to unite the forces of the two armies; and that this plan was strongly opposed by General McClellan, who insisted that he wanted only a few thousand more men to march into Richmond.
The army had received large reinforcements since arriving at Harrison"s Landing, and now numbered more than one hundred thousand men; not by any means an inconsiderable force, yet too small, in General McClellan"s opinion, to warrant another advance.
But, owing to the movements of the enemy in front of General Pope, the supposed impracticability of the route, and to some distrust as to the abilities of General McClellan by the authorities at Washington, peremptory orders had been sent to him to remove his army as quickly as possible from the Peninsula.
What the merits of the dispute in high places might be, the army at large was not able to decide; but the rumors gave rise to many spirited debates, in which the authorities at Washington and the authority at Harrison"s Bar had each earnest advocates. At length it became known that the army was to leave the Peninsula, and preparations for this important movement commenced. The work of shipping the sick and wounded, numbering twelve thousand five hundred, began; but it was not carried on with a degree of alacrity satisfactory to the War Department or the President.
The wharves along the river side became the scene of immense activity.
Ambulances crowded along the banks of the river, laden with sick and wounded, while those from the hospitals able to walk, tottered along with trembling steps, their wan faces and sunken eyes telling their story of suffering. Transports were in waiting for these, and were rapidly filled with their freight of suffering humanity. Everything not movable was ordered to be destroyed. Tents were struck and taken to the pickets who had left them behind, and everything betokened an important movement. Three or four days were spent in momentary expectation of the order to "fall in," but still the situation remained unchanged.
At length, on the 16th of August, all was ready and the men were ordered to pack their knapsacks; but the men of the Sixth corps remained in camp until the sun"s rays became scorching; then the column moved rapidly eastward. A hard day"s march on the 16th and another on the 17th, brought the corps in sight of the Chickahominy. It crossed a pontoon bridge of enormous extent, in the construction of which ninety boats were used, and the length of which was over two thousand feet.
Thoroughly exhausted the men bivouacked on the eastern bank of the Chickahominy.
The rebels, now aware of the retreat, were following close at the heels of the Union army, but declined to make any offensive demonstrations, further than picking up stragglers and those that fell out by the way from weakness and fatigue. The main portion of the rebel army was now occupied in important movements in another direction.
Another rapid march, under a burning sun, brought our corps to the ancient capital of the Old Dominion--Williamsburgh. Pa.s.sing through its streets without halting, taking only time to glance at its now dilapidated buildings, we reached the familiar scenes of the old battle-field, which, three months before, we little expected to recross before the downfall of the rebellion. Here was the plain where a portion of our Second division had, by its gallantry, decided the fate of the battle; the scene of our bivouac in the rain and mud, and the redoubts where lay the wounded rebels, whose groans had rendered the night hideous. In the midst of these scenes we bivouacked again for the night.
At dawn the column moved again, and after a fatiguing march reached Yorktown; our Second division encamping in the works erected by Porter"s division during our famous thirty days" siege of that place.
Many of the men had by this time become exhausted; and a long train of ambulances was filled with these and sent ahead on the morning of the 20th. The well ones soon followed toward Fortress Monroe, halting on the field of Big Bethel. This was the first visit of our corps to this disastrous field, and the men rambled about manifesting great interest in the spot rendered sacred by the blood of Winthrop and Greble.
Plums, peaches and sweet potatoes const.i.tuted novel additions to the diet of the men, and although the two former were unripe, their good effects were manifested in arresting mult.i.tudes of those troublesome cases of diarrhea which had resisted all treatment so long as the men were deprived of acid fruits. Another hard march on the 21st brought the corps again, after five months" absence, to the vicinity of the desolated village of Hampton, and the end of our march for the present.
The whole army was crowded along the sh.o.r.es, waiting to embark for Aquia. Transports of every size and description were riding upon the bay or lashed to the wharves, and infantry, cavalry and artillery were crowding toward the beach ready to take their turn to embark. The scene was one of unusual activity, resembling only the one we had witnessed on embarking for the Peninsula months ago.
At length all were on board, and the transports swung out upon the bay and steamed up the Potomac. One of the transports on which a portion of the Second division was embarked, the "Vanderbilt," had been, in other days, an old friend, as she ploughed up and down the Hudson; now her magnificent saloons, which had been of dazzling beauty, were dismantled and disfigured. No gorgeous drapery or gilded mirrors adorned them, but desolation and filth prevailed.
The weather was charming, and, except for the crowded condition of the transports, the trip would have been a delightful one. What a contrast was there in the appearance of those same men now, and when they came down the river in April! Then our ranks were full; the men were healthy and in fresh vigor; their uniforms were new and clean, and their muskets and equipments were polished and glistening. Now, we looked about with sadness when we remembered how many of our former companions were absent, and how few present. We could bring to mind many who went to the Peninsula, full of hope, who had sunk as victims of the malarial poisons, and now rested in humble graves at Yorktown or along the Chickahominy; and many others who had n.o.bly fallen upon the field of strife; and yet others who now were wearing out tedious days of sickness in hospitals or at home.
The little band that remained could hardly be recognized as the same men who left the defenses of Washington but a few months since; their faces were now bronzed from constant exposure to the scorching rays of the sun, and their clothing was worn and soiled. Hats and caps of every description: hats of straw and of palm leaf, of brown wool, black wool, and what had been white wool. Caps military and caps not military, all alike in only one respect, that all were much the worse for wear. It would have puzzled a stranger to have determined from this diversity of apparel, what was the regular uniform of our troops.
We came up the river with feelings far less exultant and confident than those experienced in our downward trip. Indeed a gloom hung over the minds of all. The army was satisfied that General McClellan would be removed from command, and it was said that General Pope or General Burnside would be his successor. Though they remembered the brilliant successes of the one in the west and of the other in the south, many expressed fears that the command of a large army might be as fatal to either of these as it had been to General McClellan.
At sunset of the 23d, the transports bearing the two divisions of the Sixth corps, were anch.o.r.ed just off Alexandria; but none of the men were allowed to go ash.o.r.e. Spending another night in the crowded vessels, where the foul air prevailing between decks rendered breathing anything but a luxury, the men hailed the appearance of daylight as the time for their liberation from this close and unpleasant confinement.
The process of disembarking progressed rapidly, and the divisions were marched through the city to a field about a mile beyond its limits, where we encamped near Fort Ellsworth.
Although this was on Sunday morning, and it was known that Pope"s army was fighting the enemy even before we left the Peninsula, and was in need of reinforcements; yet no signs of marching occurred until Thursday.
Let us now turn back for a moment and hastily glance at the movements of General Pope and his army, which had now for several days been actively engaged. The battle of Cedar Mountain was fought on Sat.u.r.day, August 9th. General Banks, pushing his corps toward Cedar Mountain, and, finding the enemy in his front, had boldly attacked him. The confederate forces were led by General Jackson, and outnumbered the forces under General Banks. The field was hotly contested for an hour and a half, when our forces were obliged to fall back; but being reinforced by Rickett"s division, they were able to prevent the enemy from occupying the field. During the night, Jackson withdrew his forces, leaving the ground in our hands, which was at once occupied by the Union forces.