LEAVE OF ABSENCE--VISIT TO THE WILLIAMSBURG HOSPITALS--EFFECTIVE
PREACHING--YORKTOWN REVISITED--LONGINGS--WHITE HOUSE LANDING--TIRED OF
IDLENESS--PREPARATIONS TO RETURN TO DUTY--STUART'S CAVALRY RAID--A
TRAIN FIRED INTO--FAIR OAKS GROVE--THE STRENGTH OF THE ENEMY--TRYING
TIMES ON THE PENINSULA--THE ENDURANCE OF OUR SOLDIERS--LABORS OF MR.
ALVORD.
While preparations were going on for the great battle in front of
Richmond, I obtained leave of absence for a week, and recruited my
shattered health, lame side and arm. Mr. and Mrs. B. were both gone home
on furlough, and Nellie was at the Williamsburg Hospital. I thought I
should like to visit the different hospitals, while I was thus riding
round from place to place in search of something of interest. I visited
Williamsburg Hospitals, both Union and rebel, and found many things
amusing and interesting.
Nellie was delighted to see me, and told me much of her experience since
the battle of Williamsburg. Her hand was still in a sling, which reminded
me of my first shot at a rebel female. She was a most faithful nurse, and
had endeared herself to all the boys by her kindness and patience toward
them. She introduced me to several of her favorites, calling each by some
pet name, to which they seemed to answer as a matter of course. I spent a
day and a night there, and attended a meeting in the evening, which was
held by a minister from the Christian Commission for the benefit of the
wounded soldiers. Oh, what a sermon was that! The tender mercies of the
Father, the love of the Son of God, were described; the wailings of the
lost and the raptures of the redeemed were portrayed in the most powerful
and touching manner. I have never heard the sinner invited to the cross in
more persuasive strains than flowed from his lips.
His countenance was pleasing, his manners courteous, and his deportment
unassuming. He did not preach one of those high-toned, intellectual
discourses which we so often hear, and which almost invariably fail to
reach the heart. But he preached Christ with such winning simplicity, such
forgetfulness of self, and with such an eager yearning after souls, that
even the most depraved were melted to tears. How soul-refreshing is this
simple mode of preaching! I seem to see him standing before me now, with
uplifted hands, glowing cheeks and streaming eyes--and though I have
forgotten much of the discourse, yet I can distinctly remember the
impression which it made upon me then. It was good, humbling, purifying.
He was evidently not a highly educated man, yet he proclaimed the
unsearchable riches of Christ in such a way as to make the proudest
eloquence and the most profound philosophy, seem in comparison, "like
sounding brass or tinkling cymbal."
Often, when hearing a certain class of ministers preach, I am reminded of
the saying of a good Baptist clergyman with regard to A. and B., two
ministers of his own denomination: "When I hear Brother A. preach, I am in
love with the man; but when I hear Brother B. preach, I am in love with
Jesus." This is the kind of preaching we want--that which makes us fall in
love with Jesus, instead of the preacher. Oh, that there were more of
Christ, and less of self, preached.
After leaving Williamsburg, I kept on down the Peninsula until I came to
Yorktown. After visiting the hospitals there, I then went to the old camp
where I had spent so many weeks. There were the dear old familiar places,
but all that gave them interest were gone now. The old saw-mill, too, was
gone, and all that remained was a heap of ruins, to tell where it once
stood. But there was a spot undisturbed, away in the corner of the peach
orchard, under an isolated pear tree, a heaped up mound, underneath which
rested the noble form of Lieutenant V. It was sweet to me to visit this
spot once more. I knew that in all probability it would be the last time;
at least for a long period, perhaps forever.
When this frail body shall be done with earth,
And this heart shall be free from care;
When my spirit enters that other world,
Oh, say, shall I know thee there?
When the last hours of life are closing around
And death's summons cometh to me;
Will God send an angel messenger down?
Shall I know the bright spirit as thee?
Rest weary heart, rest patient and wait,
Till thy happiness cometh to thee;
Thou'lt meet and thou'lt know when thou gainest that shore
Which opes to eternity.
From Yorktown I went to the White House Landing, where everything looked
neat, orderly, peaceful and happy, as a quiet little country village. The
grounds were laid out in broad streets and squares, which were swept clean
as a floor, and there were long rows of snow-white tents, with their
neatly printed cotton sign-boards, "to guide the traveler on his way" to
the different head-quarters, provost marshal, hospital, sutlers,
blacksmith, etc.
After spending a day there, and beginning to feel tired of idleness, I
made up my mind to return to camp again. So going to Colonel Ingalls, I
procured transportation for myself and horse, and stepping aboard of a
provision train destined for Fair Oaks Station, I anticipated a pleasant
ride; but, as usual, was blessed with quite a little adventure before I
reached my destination. The train started, and, after steaming over the
road for some time at its usual rate, had reached the vicinity of
Tunstall's Station, when we heard the down train whistle, and immediately
after a sharp volley of musketry was fired in the same direction. The
engineer switched off the track, and awaited the other train. It came
thundering on as if the engineer was possessed by the _sauve qui peut_
spirit, and, as it passed, the wildest confusion was visible on board, and
the groans of the wounded could be heard above the screaming of the
engine. On it went, like a streak of lightning, signaling for our train to
follow.
There was no time to be lost; our train was immediately in hot pursuit of
the other, and both were soon at the White House. Among those I saw taken
from the cars wounded, was the spy whom I had met in the rebel camp in
front of Yorktown, and heard haranguing his fellow countryman upon the
important service he had rendered the Confederate Government, and
confessing himself to be the cause of Lieutenant's V's death.
Everything was thrown into wild confusion by the arrival of the trains and
the news of the attack. The troops at the White House were immediately
called out under arms to protect the depot. All this excitement had been
produced by a detachment of Stuart's cavalry, consisting of about fifteen
hundred men, and which resulted in the slight disaster to the train; the
burning of two schooners laden with forage, and fourteen Government
wagons; the destruction of some sutler's stores; the killing of several
of the guard and teamsters; some damage done to Tunstall's Station; and
the tearing up of a portion of the railroad. There was but little damage
done to the train, considering that there were three hundred passengers.
Some military officers of high rank were on board, who would have been a
rich prize for the rebels if they had succeeded in capturing the train;
but it had eluded their grasp by the admirable conduct and presence of
mind of the engineer, who crowded on all possible steam, and escaped with
his freight of human life with only a loss of fourteen in killed and
wounded.
As soon as the wounded were taken care of I visited the provost marshal,
and made known the fact that there was among the wounded a rebel spy who
required immediate attention. He sent a guard with me, who searched his
person and found satisfactory proof that my statement was correct. He was
only slightly wounded, and by the time the railroad was repaired he was
able to bear the fatigue of a journey to headquarters, and I returned to
camp.
On the twenty-fifth of June the battle of Fair Oaks Grove was fought.
Hooker's command had been ordered to occupy a new and important position,
when they were suddenly attacked while passing through a dense thicket and
almost impassable swamp. The foe was gradually pushed back until he was
obliged to seek safety behind his rifle-pits. About noon General
McClellan, who had remained at headquarters to communicate with the left
wing, rode upon the field and, to the joy of his soldiers, ordered them
again to advance. The order was cheerfully obeyed, and after renewed
desperate fighting, at sunset the day was won by the Federal arms.
At this time it was not necessary for me to use any stratagem in order to
visit the rebel encampment, for all that was necessary to be known of the
rebel force and movements had been already ascertained. Consequently I was
quietly awaiting further developments, and while waiting was trying to
make myself generally useful in the hospitals. A singular case came under
my notice there: that of a man being stunned by the near approach of a
cannon-ball. It did not come in contact with even his clothing, and yet he
was knocked down senseless, and for several days he could neither hear nor
speak.
I think the most trying time that the Army of the Potomac ever had on the
Peninsula was in front of Richmond, just before the seven days'
battle--that is to say, if anything could be worse than the seven day's
battle itself. A heavy and almost incessant firing was kept up day and
night, along the entire left wing, and the men were kept in those rifle
pits, (to say in water to the knees is a very moderate estimate), day
after day, until they looked like fit subjects for the hospital or
lunatic asylum, and those troops in camp who were not supposed to be on
duty, but were kept in reserve, were often called out ten times in one
night. The firing would become so alarmingly hot that it was supposed a
general engagement was at hand; but on going out to the front, perhaps it
would cease for a moment, then they would be ordered back to camp again.
In that manner I have known the entire force to be kept in motion almost
all night, and sleep for any one was a thing out of the question.
It soon became evident that there was some movement on foot which was not
understood by the great mass of the army, and I have no doubt it was a
good thing that the troops did not even imagine that a retreat was already
being planned by their commander. The men endured all these hardships most
uncomplainingly; yes, cheerfully; and every day was supposed to be the
last ere they would walk the streets of Richmond triumphantly, and thus
reap the fruits of their summer's campaign.
The constant fire kept up along the entire line, and the frequent charges
made upon rifle-pits, rapidly increased the numbers in the hospital, and
kept the surgeons and nurses busy night and day, and then they could not
attend to all who required assistance. Just at this particular juncture I
remember the timely aid afforded by the members of the Christian
Commission and Tract Society. They brought relief not only in one sense,
but in many. Spiritual food for the hungry, dying soldier--consolation for
the worn out and discouraged--delicacies for the sick and
feeble--warm-gushing heart sympathy for the suffering, and actual
assistance with their own hands in cases of amputations, and the removal
of the sick from one place to another. Rev. Mr. Alvord gives a very modest
account of the services which he rendered, when he says: "I went to the
hospitals, where I worked hour after hour with the surgeons. Men were
brought in with all sorts of wounds. Surgeons were scarce and were engaged
in amputations, so you know I could attend to minor matters. Where the
bullet had gone through body or limb, I could dress it perhaps as well as
any one; also, all sorts of flesh wounds. I cannot tell you of the variety
of operations I performed. The wounds had been stiffening since the day
before, not having been dressed. I enjoyed the work, as in every case such
relief was given. Then I could carry water to the thirsty, and speak words
of comfort to the dying; for, as you may suppose, there were many in this
state."
Again he says: "Just now, by my side, lies a Philadelphia zouave, a fine
boy to whom I have been ministering. I gave him some hot tea, with the
charming crackers Mr. Broughton sent; he is now sitting up, looking more
cheerful. I mention this in detail, that you may have a specimen of the
work which occupies one every moment through the day and night, who is
able or willing to work in this department. On the other side of me, as I
write here on my knees, lies a colored boy, haggard and sick, to whom I
have given medicine and similar food. His dark face is full of gratitude."
Many an hour I have worked and watched in hospitals by the side of Mr.
Alvord, and marked his cheerful christian spirit and warm sympathies for
the sufferers. And often, on a march, I have gone to him, and asked if he
would let some weary sick soldier ride in his carriage, who had fallen out
by the way--and my request was never refused, although to do so he would
sometimes have to walk through the mud himself, his horse being frequently
heavily loaded. I have also distributed publications for him, and have
stood by the cot of many a dying soldier where he has ministered
consolation to the departing spirit. He is one of those who will have many
stars in his crown of rejoicing when eternity unfolds the results of his
faithful labors.