FAIR OAKS.
Seven miles from Richmond, near the York River Railroad, there is a
grove of oaks, so green, so beautiful and fair, that the railroad
station has received the name of Fair Oaks. A highway from Richmond
crosses the railroad near the station called the Nine-Mile Road. The
railroad runs east and the Nine-Mile Road southeast. The highway from
Richmond to Williamsburg runs parallel to the railroad about a mile
south of it, and is crossed by the Nine-Mile Road, a mile southeast
from Fair Oaks. At the junction of the two highways are seven pines,
standing in a cluster on the south side of the Williamsburg road.
The country around is level and covered mainly by a dense forest, but
there is cleared land along the Williamsburg road toward Richmond. On
the 23d of May, General Keyes was ordered to advance to Fair Oaks and
hold the position. General Couch's division was halted at Seven Pines,
while Casey's was thrown forward to Fair Oaks, encamped on Baker's
farm. General Keyes cut down the trees in front of his line beyond Fair
Oaks to form an abattis. They were also felled in front of Couch.
On Friday night, the 30th of May, there was a terrific thunder-storm.
The heavens were sheets of flame, and the clouds poured torrents of
water which deluged the country and flooded the Chickahominy.
Early in the morning on Saturday, the 31st, it was whispered in the
Rebel camp that General Johnston was going to attack the Yankees who
were South of the Chickahominy.[22]
[Footnote 22: Battle-Fields of the South.]
"In such weather?" it was asked.
"The bridges are washed away, and it is impossible for McClellan to
send over his right and center to the assistance of his left. His army
is divided, and we can crush the force on the south side before he can
reinforce it," was the answer.
General Huger's division moved out from Richmond at six o'clock, taking
the Charles City road, which is south of the Williamsburg road, and
which runs south of White-Oak Swamp. He was to make a long and rapid
march east, then turn north, cross the Swamp, gain the rear of General
Couch, and cut off his retreat to Bottom's Bridge. He was to reach his
position and begin the attack at eight o'clock. General Longstreet's
division moved down the Williamsburg road and halted in the woods.
General Whiting moved down the Nine-Mile Road and halted in the woods
in front of Fair Oaks.
President Davis and his Cabinet went out with Longstreet to see the
fight. Eight o'clock--nine o'clock--ten--passed, and there was no
sound of Huger's guns. He was toiling in the mud, moving at a snail's
pace. Longstreet and Whiting were impatiently waiting, concealed from
observation in the woods.
At ten o'clock, General Keyes's pickets captured an aide of General
Johnston in the edge of the woods. He was brought before General Keyes.
While the General was talking with him, two musket-shots were fired in
the woods, which produced an emotion in the young officer so marked
that it was noticed by General Keyes, who feared that something might
be going on in his front, and who immediately issued orders for his
troops to be under arms.
Eleven o'clock came, and General Longstreet, getting out of patience
at Huger's delay, ordered his troops to advance and begin the attack.
His skirmishers went through the woods quickly, and came upon Casey's
skirmishers on the Williamsburg road, and the firing began. But his
regiments were slow in getting on. His artillery sank in the mud.
The rapid increase of the fire along the picket line alarmed General
Keyes, who made quick preparations for whatever might happen.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS.
=UNION TROOPS.=
1 Casey's division.
2 Couch's "
3 Heintzelman's corps.
4 Sumner's "
=REBEL TROOPS.=
5 Whiting.
6 Longstreet.
7 Anderson.
8 Fair Oaks.
9 Seven Pines.][23]
[Footnote 23: The diagram represents the position of the troops
at the beginning of the battle.]
Casey's division faced towards Richmond; Naglee's brigade was on the
railroad,--two regiments north of it; Wessell's brigade was in the
center, near "Fair Oaks," and Palmer's was on the left, south of the
Williamsburg road. Spratt's battery was near the Oaks. Regan's battery
was in rear of Spratt's. Bates's battery was south of the Williamsburg
road, in a redoubt, while Fitch's battery was in rear of the redoubt.
Couch's division at Seven Pines was lying with Graham's brigade between
the Williamsburg road and the railroad, Devens's brigade on the
Williamsburg road, and Peck's brigade on the left.
Up to twelve o'clock there was little firing except by the pickets, and
the men in Casey's command laid aside their arms and prepared to eat
dinner. Soon after noon two shells were thrown into Casey's camp.
Suddenly there was a heavy roll of musketry in the woods. Officers
sprang to their feet. They knew that it portended trouble. There was a
quick saddling of horses and buckling on of belts. Orders were issued
in imperious tones.
The men left their coffee-pots and plates of rice, seized their guns,
and formed in line.
Casey's division was composed of undisciplined troops which had joined
the army after its arrival upon the Peninsula. The men had had no
experience, and yet they were placed in advance, nearest the enemy,--an
oversight which was dearly paid for.
The force which Johnston had brought out numbered not far from thirty
thousand. Casey's division numbered not far from seven thousand.
Like an avalanche was the advance of the Rebels upon this small,
undisciplined force. Generals Anderson, D. H. Hill, Jenkins, Pegram,
and Wilcox swept along the Williamsburg road, striking Palmer's brigade
on the left flank.
General Casey's pickets were but a short distance from camp, and
they came streaming back in confusion, followed by the Rebels in
masses. General Keyes saw that it was no feint, but an attack by an
overwhelming force. He despatched a messenger to General Heintzelman,
who was behind him towards Bottom's Bridge, for reinforcements. The
firing became quick and heavy. General Sumner, three miles distant
across the Chickahominy, heard it, and ordered his command under arms.
The aide sent to Heintzelman lost his way in the woods, and was a long
while in bearing the important message. Keyes saw that there was danger
on Casey's left, south of the Williamsburg road, where the Rebels were
appearing in great force, and he ordered Peck's brigade of Couch's
division to advance and support Palmer. Spratt's battery, near Fair
Oaks, opened upon the Rebels as they came through the woods on the
right, supported by the Eleventh Maine, One Hundredth New York, One
Hundred and Fourth Pennsylvania, and Ninety-Second New York.
In the center, the One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania was sent forward
to sustain the pickets, but quickly returned in confusion.
The Rebel lines came into the open field, following the retreating
pickets. All of Casey's guns opened with canister, and the fire was
so severe that General Hill ordered his men to lie down, as it was
impossible to advance in the face of such a storm.[24] General Hill
dismounted from his horse, and criticised the fire of the different
batteries. Longstreet's line was more than a mile in extent, and yet
Huger and Whiting had not fired a cartridge. The fire was so terrible
from the batteries, and from Palmer's, Wessell's, and Naglee's lines,
that Longstreet changed his plan of attack, and, instead of advancing
directly upon the center, attacked on both flanks. Some of his
regiments filed towards the south, and crept through the bushes unseen
by Casey. The others moved north, some in front of Naglee, and prepared
to charge upon Spratt's battery. General Casey saw the plan. He rode
along the line, called upon three of Naglee's regiments to drive the
enemy into the woods. There was a rail-fence between the combatants,
but the troops sprang over it with a cheer, formed in line, and fought
the enemy face to face. The battle raged with great fury around the
Oaks.
[Footnote 24: Battle-Fields of the South, Vol. II. p. 4]
The enemy was held in check a few minutes by the three regiments, but,
being superior, advanced once more, firing as they came on. Naglee held
his ground till the fighting was at close quarters,--till some of the
Eleventh Maine were bayoneted. The order to retreat was given, and the
lines fell back, followed closely by the enemy, who made a rush for
Spratt's battery, and captured one of the guns.
Elated, the Rebels halted to reform their lines, before pushing on to
other successes. But while re-forming, Bates and Fitch opened wide gaps
in their ranks at every discharge of grape and canister. Once more
they came on, shouting and screaming, and delivering their volleys and
receiving the steady fire streaming from the rifles of Naglee's line,
reinforced now by a regiment from General Peck's brigade of Couch's
division.
Their line of march is from southwest to northeast. They come upon the
left of Naglee's position, curling round his flank, and pouring a
cross fire into the rifle-pits. Colonel Bailey, Major Van Valkenburg,
and Adjutant Ramsey of the artillery are killed, other officers are
wounded. The advancing host leap over the slight earthworks, seize the
guns, and prepare to turn them upon the backs of the men on Naglee's
right. It is no use to contend for the ground or the guns against the
superior force, and the men fall back once more. Casey's whole line
also retreats to that held by General Couch.
Up to this moment, Longstreet's grand division only has been engaged;
but two regiments of General Couch's division, who are moving up the
railroad to support Naglee, see across the field beyond the Fair Oaks
long lines of men,--some standing in battle line, and others advancing
in column along the railroad. It is Whiting, who is deploying his
forces from the Nine-Mile Road.
General Couch is made acquainted with the fact. He sends for the other
two regiments of the brigade. Whiting pours his troops into the gap
between Naglee and Couch, and cuts off the four regiments from the
troops at Seven Pines.
The regiments thus isolated are thrown back towards Grape-Vine Bridge.
While this is transpiring on the right, there is disaster in the
center, and on the left. The Rebels there are pushing on. Keyes rallies
his troops. He sends forward regiment after regiment from his second
line, to strengthen that in front, to hold his ground if possible,
but it is growing thin. It sways to and fro, and breaks at last. It
crumbles, piecemeal,--the troops hastening towards the Seven Pines. He
has one regiment still in reserve,--the Tenth Massachusetts.
He throws it into the broken gap. It requires nerve and muscle to
march in where all are fleeing,--to be a breakwater where the flood
sweeps all before it. But the regiment goes in as cheerfully as to a
dress-parade. They deliver their volleys with deliberate aim. They hold
their ground.
Three hundred yards in the rear, Heintzelman, Keyes, Casey, Naglee, and
other officers are rallying the men. Fugitives are stopped, regiments
which have been so stubbornly contesting the ground are induced to try
it once more.
"Had that regiment been two minutes later," says General Keyes, "they
would have been too late to occupy that fine position, and it would
have been impossible to have formed the next and last line of battle,
which stemmed the tide of defeat and turned it toward a victory."[25]
[Footnote 25: Keyes's Report.]
Thus far the Rebels have had it all their own way. Casey has been
driven a mile. His camp is in the hands of Longstreet. He has lost many
guns. Longstreet has made so good a beginning that, although Huger
has not made his appearance from the South, the prospect is good for
overwhelming the Union force on the southern bank.
But other actors arrive upon the ground,--the men who tossed their
knapsacks into the woods at Williamsburg,--who became a wall of adamant
on that memorable field. Berry and Jameson march up the Williamsburg
road and move out upon the left of the line forming behind the Tenth
Massachusetts. Berry pushes down into the border of the swamp; Jameson
sends one regiment to Peck and one to Birney, and moves straight on
towards the abattis of fallen trees in front of Couch's line along the
Williamsburg road with his two remaining regiments. His men lie down
behind the fallen trees and pour their volleys into the advancing foe,
moving on in stately grandeur. Jameson, unmindful of the storm around
him, rides up and down the line, exposed to the fire of the enemy, not
a hundred yards distant. Sheltered by the abattis, his two regiments
are immovable. Like a hillock in the path of an avalanche, they turn
the overwhelming force aside. It flows round them, right and left, but
does not advance along the road.
Berry, far down in the woods towards White Oak Swamp, is pouring
a terrible fire upon the masses, who still press toward Seven
Pines. He holds them in check, repulsing all the assaults. There,
in the thickest of the fight, is that young officer who made his
last will and testament at Yorktown,--the "hero of the day" at
Williamsburg,--animating the troops by his fearless daring, and there
he gives his life to his country, shot through the brain.
In the rear of Seven Pines is the hospital, full of weak and sickly
men, prostrated by fevers. They hear the tide of battle rolling nearer
hour by hour. A soldier from the front says that the line is giving way
and the Rebels are sweeping all before them. The words fall on the ears
of Lieutenant Rice, of the Eleventh Maine. He springs to his feet, and
grasps a gun. "All of you who can hold up your heads, follow me!" he
shouts.[26] Men who have not been able to stand upon their feet spring
up at the word. They are pale, sallow, emaciated, with sunken eyes and
hollow cheeks. They form in line, twenty of them, seize their muskets.
The fever is consuming them, but there is a warmer flame within their
breasts,--the unquenchable desire to save their comrades from defeat
and their country from destruction. Lieutenant Rice leads the weak and
tottering party to the front. He moves on close to the enemy. He is one
of the best marksmen of his regiment, and soldier after soldier falls
from the ranks of the enemy by his unerring aim. He fires seven times,
and then goes down before the bullets of the foe.
[Footnote 26: Adjutant-General's Report, Maine, 1862.]
There is Willie Parker of the Eleventh Maine, a mere boy, who beholds
the Rebel colors advancing from the woods, borne by a stalwart soldier.
"That flag must come down!" he says, as he raises his gun. There is a
flash, a screaming in the air, as the swiftly-whirling bullet passes
on. The color-bearer reels, staggers, and falls.
There is Sergeant Katon, the standard-bearer of the Eleventh, holding
up, as high as he can reach, the broken flag-staff, while kneeling
beside the dead body of Corporal Maddocks, who has fallen while
guarding the torn and tattered but precious standard,--all this while
the tempest surges around them, over them, through them; the very blast
of death!
An officer with one hundred men, who has been out on picket, comes up
the road.
"Where is my regiment?" he asks of the grim and veteran Heintzelman.
"I cannot tell you, sir."
"But I would like to join it."
"Very well, but if it is fighting you want, just go in, Colonel, for
there is good fighting all along the line."
The battle rages furiously. Five o'clock--six o'clock--half past
six--Berry holds them by the swamp, Jameson holds them with his three
hundred men on the Williamsburg road; but between Seven Pines and Fair
Oaks the tide is drifting on.
Jameson resolves to advance. The Rebels in front of him fall back along
the road to Richmond. Thus, while Whiting is pushing east over the
Nine-Mile Road, Jameson is marching west towards the Rebel capital,
driving all before him.
"Fall back" is the imperative order which he receives. He would a great
deal rather go on.
"What would you have done, if you had not been ordered back?" a friend
asked.
"I would have been in Richmond or in Heaven before night," was the
reply.[27]
[Footnote 27: Adjutant-General's Report.]
But he obeys orders. Yet he cannot go back the way he advanced; the
enemy is between him and Seven Pines. He faces south, picks his
way through White Oak Swamp, comes round to Seven Pines, and again
confronts the enemy.
The day is closing. Darkness is coming on. The Yankees are not yet
swept into the Chickahominy. Longstreet has had success, but it is not
a great victory. The Union line has been pushed back a mile and a half.
It has been broken,--almost disorganized. Berry's brigade is as firm
and solid as ever. Jameson's has been divided and sent to different
parts of the field. Casey's division has crumbled. Couch's has been
broken. A great crowd of stragglers is moving towards Bottom's Bridge.
Couch with two regiments and a battery have been pushed north towards
Grape Vine Bridge. Such is the position at seven o'clock, as Whiting,
fresh and vigorous, brings his brigade down the railroad to finish the
work of this day.
But now there is another actor,--General Sumner, who has crossed the
Chickahominy at Grape-Vine Bridge, and is pushing on with Sedgwick's
gallant division.
General Sumner ordered his corps to be under arms at one o'clock. As
the firing grew loud, he moved his troops to the Chickahominy and
waited for orders to cross. He commenced crossing at three o'clock,
but the swamp was flooded, and it was only by great exertion and
perseverance that he was able to get Kirby's battery to the south bank.
Gorman's brigade led the column, composed of the First Minnesota,
Fifteenth Massachusetts, Second New York Volunteers, and Thirty-Fourth
New York,--Gorman joined General Couch. Kirby, with his six Napoleon
guns, followed, and Dana's brigade closed the column, composed of
the Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, Seventh Michigan, and
Forty-Second New York. General Sumner rapidly formed his line, facing
south. Whiting, up to this time, had been pressing straight on towards
the Seven Pines. He turned to crush this new force which had appeared
unexpectedly on his flank.
It is a cloudy night and darkness is stealing on, as the Rebels change
their front and move towards the north to sweep all before them. They
advance across the field and through the woods, delivering a rapid
fire. Suddenly there bursts a sheet of flame from Sumner's ranks.
The Rebels fall back, rally their broken lines, advance again, nearer
and with desperation. "Canister! Canister! Give them canister!" is
Kirby's order as he moves from gun to gun. The battle-cloud grows
thick beneath the heavy vapors rising from the swamp. Quick, incessant
flashes momentarily light up the deepening darkness. It is not possible
for men to face so terrible a storm. Vain are all the efforts of the
Rebel officers to rally their bleeding ranks.
Sumner has stood his ground. The time has come to advance. The
Thirty-Fourth and Forty-Second New York, Fifteenth and Twentieth
Massachusetts, and Seventh Michigan move forward.
There are two fences in front of them, and beyond the farthest one is
the Rebel line waiting their advance. The soldiers know that it will
be the last march of many, but with a cheer heard above the roar of
battle, they rush into the darkness, dash the fences under foot, and
spring upon the enemy's lines. It is the work of a minute. One short
struggle, a volley, a holding of the breath, muttered curses, shouts,
groans, a clashing of bayonets, the trampling of ten thousand feet, and
the field is clear of the enemy!
General Johnston has failed in what he intended to accomplish. He is
borne from the field at this hour, wounded by a shell from Kirby's
battery.
"As I rode down through the field," says a Rebel officer, "I met
Franks, one of Longstreet's aides, looking as blue as indigo. What is
the matter, Franks? Not satisfied with the day's work?" I inquired.
"Satisfied be hanged! I saw old Jeff, Mallory, Longstreet, and Whiting,
and all of them, looking as mad as thunder. Just to think that Huger's
slowness has spoiled everything! There he has been on our right all day
and hasn't fired a shot, although he had positive orders to open the
fight at eight o'clock in the morning."[28]
[Footnote 28: Battle-Fields of the South.]
There are indescribable scenes of horror after a great battle,--the
removal of the wounded, bleeding, dying, giving utterances to groans
extorted by the intense pain,--the work at the hospitals, where the
disabled, one by one, are laid before the surgeons. Yet, amid their
terrible sufferings, the men are often cheerful, and hopeful for this
life and the life which is to come.
A chaplain says: "Amongst the badly wounded was Joseph Bynon of
Alleghany City, Pennsylvania, a young man of the most generous nature,
universally popular in his regiment, and the staff of a widowed mother.
He was lying on a blanket near the house, wounded in the bowels. I
asked him about his sufferings. He replied, that he did not suffer
much, that he was faint from the loss of blood as he supposed. I saw
from his pulse that he had but a few moments to live, and said to him,
"'Joseph, are you willing and ready to die? I am afraid you cannot
live.'
"'Well, doctor,' he whispered, 'I should like to live; I love my
mother; this will be a great sorrow to her. And I should like to do
something for my little nephew and niece. But there is another life,
and I know I shall find mother there. I feel I have been a great
sinner; in many things I have done wrong; but ever since my conversion
I experienced in Camp Johnson, I have tried to follow my Saviour, and
now I die trusting. My mind wanders; I find it difficult to think and
speak. In praying to God, I may not say the things that are right; do,
doctor, lift up my hands and clasp them together, and pray for me!'
"I lifted up the hands crimsoned with his own blood, and pressing them
in mine, commended him to the Merciful One, who for us all had suffered
the bitterness of death. He repeated word for word, prayed for his
mother, and then said, 'O Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the
world, take away my sin; into Thine hand I commend my spirit!'
"The storm of battle raged again. The enemy's shells burst around
the hospital, and the wounded were removed. He was lifted into an
ambulance, but died before it reached Savage Station. Thus giving his
life to his country, he passed on into the service of his God."[29]
[Footnote 29: Chaplain Marks.]
At daybreak on Sunday morning, an orderly belonging to the Rebel army
rode out of the woods into the Union lines.
"Where is General Anderson," he asked.
"Here he is. What do you want of him?" said a colonel.
"I have a despatch for him from General Pryor."
"I will take it. Soldiers, guard this man. You are my prisoner."
The orderly was much astonished to find himself a prisoner. The
despatch gave information of the disposition of the Rebel forces for
the battle soon to recommence.
During the night the balance of Sumner's corps crossed the
Chickahominy, and at daybreak the troops, thus strengthened, were able
to renew the battle. Sedgwick remained where he fought on Saturday.
Richardson's division was next on his right. He formed in two
lines,--with French's brigade in front on the railroad, and Howard and
Meagher in the second line in his rear. Kearney, Couch, and Hooker,
with the remnants of Casey's division, were in the vicinity of Seven
Pines.
It would require many pages to give in detail the fight of Sunday
morning. It must be given as a picture.
It began at five o'clock. At that hour, the Rebels are discovered
south of the railroad in the woods in front of Richardson. Pettit
opens with shells, and the stillness of the Sabbath is broken by
deep reverberations rolling along the Chickahominy. There is a gap
between Richardson and Kearney. Richardson moves toward Seven Pines
to close it. From the woods where Pettit drops his shells, there is a
volley--another--another--and the men drop from Richardson's ranks. The
Rebels advance and attack French's brigade at short range. For an hour
the men stand in their places, and deliver their fire upon the columns
which are pushed against them. Reinforcements come up from Longstreet's
reserves. Howard is brought up from the second line to meet them. His
horse is shot. He is twice wounded in the right arm, and is forced to
leave the field. His arm is shattered, and the surgeon says it must
come off. He meets Kearney, who lost his left arm years ago.
"We will buy our gloves together, Kearney," is the salutation of this
Christian soldier and patriot.
But the onset of his brigade is magnificent. The rebel line is
shattered by the resistless charge.
Hooker comes up the railroad. He falls like a thunderbolt upon the
enemy in front, breaking, dividing, shattering them. They flee in
confusion. Sickles is advancing along the Williamsburg road, Berry and
Jameson are moving over the ground of Saturday between the Seven Pines
and White-Oak Swamp. Richardson and Sedgwick are also in motion. From
Fair Oaks to the swamp south of Seven Pines, the Union line advances
over the bloody field. It is like the swinging of a wide gate, with its
hinges near Fair Oaks, and reaching past Seven Pines to the swamp.
It is a triumphant march. The Rebels have failed in what they
attempted, and are fleeing with broken, demoralized ranks to Richmond.
Hats, caps, blankets, knapsacks, guns, all are thrown aside. The road
is filled with the fleeing fugitives. Heintzelman and Sumner press on
within four miles of the city. No troops oppose them.
"I have no doubt but we might have gone right into Richmond," says
General Heintzelman.[30]--"I think that if the army had pressed after
the enemy with great vigor, we should have gone to Richmond," is the
opinion of General Keyes.[31]
[Footnote 30: Testimony, p. 352.]
[Footnote 31: Testimony, p. 609.]
"They (the Federals) missed an opportunity of striking a decisive blow.
These opportunities never returned," writes Prince de Joinville of
France.[32]
[Footnote 32: Army of the Potomac, p. 79.]
General McClellan recalled the troops from their pursuit, and
established his lines as they were on the morning of Saturday.
The loss on the Union side was 5,737. The Rebel loss, as reported in
Smith's, Longstreet's, and Hill's divisions, was 6,783. Whiting's
division also suffered severely, so that the entire Rebel loss was
about 8,000.
A month passed by. General McClellan was preparing for a siege. There
were six bridges built across the Chickahominy, which required labor
day and night. The men were obliged to work up to their arms in the
water. Miles of corduroy roads were constructed. The ground was so
swampy and marshy that nothing could be done by horses. All the
timber hauled to construct the bridges and the batteries was drawn
by the men. The month of June was rainy. There were frequent storms,
succeeded by hot sunshine. Sickness, in all its frightful forms, made
its appearance. The men became discouraged. It was expected, day after
day, that the attack would commence; but the commanding officers
issued orders that no batteries should open till all were ready. The
army, meanwhile, began to be depleted of troops. Thousands were sent
to the hospitals, and other thousands were carried out to their last
resting-place, on the banks of the dark, dismal, sluggish stream, which
soon became the river of death.
Reinforcements were called for and received: McCall's division of
Pennsylvania Reserves, which reached the army on the 12th and 13th of
June.
On the night of the 13th, General Stewart, with 1,800 Rebel cavalry,
appeared in rear of the army. He came first upon two squadrons of
Regular cavalry, at Hanover Old Church, overpowering and capturing
them; then pushed on to Gorlick's Landing, on the Pamunkey, burning two
schooners and fourteen wagons; then moved to the railroad at Tunstall's
Station.
The train first arriving was one going east with sick and wounded men.
The engineer saw the cavalrymen on the track as he rounded a curve.
They motioned him to stop, but he put on more steam, and the train
rushed past with lightning speed. Hundreds of bullets were aimed at
him, but he escaped unharmed.
General Stewart crossed the Chickahominy at Long Bridge, below Bottom's
Bridge, and came upon a Union hospital at Baltimore Cross Roads. He
placed a guard over the hospital, and treated the sick men humanely.
But the fright was very disastrous to many who found themselves thus
suddenly in the hands of the enemy. Several died during the night.
In the pockets of one Union soldier, after death, the chaplain found
some touching and beautiful letters from a little brother and sister,
telling him how much they missed him, how they longed for his return,
how they counted the days until he might come back, but above all
telling how proud they were of their soldier brother. And they never
heard a drum beat nor a fife play without thinking of him, and feeling
glad that they had one noble brother to fight for their country.[33]
[Footnote 33: Chaplain Marks.]