WITHDRAWAL TO MALVERN HILL--THE SOLDIER'S LAST WATCH--TROWBRIDGE'S
GRAVE--SCENES IN A HOSPITAL--CAPTURE OF THE WOUNDED--A NOBLE
SURGEON--LINE OF BATTLE--HARD FIGHTING--THE ENEMY REPULSED--HUNTING
FOR FOOD--IN A FARM-HOUSE--PERILOUS POSITION--SECURING THE
SPOILS--RELIEF OF THE FAMISHING--SUBLIME SCENE--ON THE MARCH--GENERAL
KEYES--GUN-BOATS--ARRIVAL AT HARRISON'S LANDING--SAD CONDITION OF
TROOPS--OUR LOSSES--MCCLELLAN'S ADDRESS TO THE ARMY.
When I reached the main army the troops had gained a new position, and
were driving the enemy back. The troops were well nigh exhausted, yet
fighting bravely and determinedly. Night came and put an end to that day's
battle, but instead of spending the night in taking care of our poor
wounded men, we were obliged to retreat, under cover of darkness, to
Malvern Hill, and leave our wounded in the hands of the enemy.
Of the many who died from exhaustion, as well as wounds, during our
retreat from the vicinity of Richmond, I know of none more worthy of
record than that of a young man of my acquaintance who died on the field
the night after this battle. He was not wounded, but died at his post
from sheer exhaustion. In the course of the evening, I had seen and
offered him some brandy from my flask, which I had for the wounded. He was
then scarcely able to stand on his feet, yet he refused to take the
brandy, saying, "that others needed it more than he did; and besides,"
said he, "I never take any intoxicating liquor under any circumstances."
A notice of his death by an eye-witness, given under the heading, "the
Soldier's Last Watch," says: "A lonely grave, a little apart from others,
stands on the ground of one of the battles fought in the retreat from
Richmond, in the summer of 1862, which bears on its wooden head-board
simply the name, TROWBRIDGE.
"The turf covers the remains of a youthful soldier who was not only brave
and patient, but exemplary as a christian. Those battles renewed from day
to day, and attended by so many hardships, destroyed many lives, in
addition to those lost in conflict with the enemy. Hundreds and thousands
of our gallant men, worn out by marches, fighting, hunger, and loss of
sleep, became discouraged, and either recklessly threw themselves into the
jaws of death, or fell into the hands of the enemy, because they were
unable to keep up with their more robust, though not braver companions.
"The circumstances of the death of one of these silent martyrs to their
country were taken down from the lips of a soldier who was with him in
his last hours. It is all that may be known, save to a few bleeding
hearts, of one who, alas! like so many others, sleeps in that saddest of
all places, a battle-field. The worn-out soldier, the day before his
death, said to his lieutenant, 'I am so weak and helpless, I do not know
what I can do further.' He was told to lie down, and get what rest he
could on the battle-field. About ten at night, said his companion, as we
were talking together, an officer of the company came up, and told us we
should retreat at two o'clock in the morning. He ordered us to stand guard
till then, two hours each in turn. We took straws, and drew lots to decide
who should stand first. The lot fell on Trowbridge. I threw myself on the
ground, under a tree, with my blanket drawn over me, and was soon fast
asleep. At twelve I was aroused, but said, 'you must be mistaken; it
cannot be five minutes since I lay down.' We had been ordered not to speak
aloud, or to have a light; and he replied in a whisper, 'Feel the hands of
my watch--it is twelve.'
"I took his place, and he was soon asleep, or seemed to be. At half-past
one o'clock the order came to move. I went to awake Trowbridge, but had no
answer, except that he groaned heavily once and again. I tried to soothe
him, and awake him gently, but he turned aside his head, groaned once
more, and was gone. I struck a match, and looked upon his features; they
were set, and ghastly in death. I placed his hand on my cheek, and asked
him if he was still conscious to press it. There was no response; life was
evidently extinct.
"I made an attempt to find the surgeon, or chaplain, but they had both
gone forward with the army. So I searched his pockets, and taking from
them six dollars for his mother, and a letter directed to himself, I
replaced the envelope, that his name, at least, might be known to those
who should find the body. Several days after this, I was one of the number
detailed to go back to that spot and bury the dead. On searching near the
place where Trowbridge died, I found a grave with a wooden tablet, bearing
his name. Not far distant was a house at which I called, and asked the
inmates if they knew anything of that grave. The woman of the family then
brought forward an envelope, (the very one that I had replaced), and said
they had buried a soldier there, from whose pocket it was taken. It was a
relief to know what had become of the body. Of course I wrote to his
mother, sending the money, and giving an account of her son's last
moments, and his burial."
This is only a solitary instance of the bravery and faithfulness of the
men who fought those terrible battles, day after day, many of whom died
with their muskets in their hands, and without receiving a wound, died
from hunger, thirst, and fatigue.
There was a farm-house near the battle-field, to which the wounded were
carried, and the surgeons of the Union Army made it their headquarters
during the battle. I will not attempt to describe the scenes which I
witnessed in that building, for it beggars all description. The poor
fellows seemed to know that they could not be removed, and would
inevitably fall into the hands of the enemy. One man asked a surgeon, who
had just performed an operation on one of his arms, "Doctor, is there no
alternative--must I be taken prisoner?" The doctor was only a boy in
appearance, a little Scotchman, and as noble-hearted a man as ever
amputated a limb. He replied, in broad Scotch, "No, my man, there is no
alternative; but keep up a good heart, I am not going to leave you, I
shall be a prisoner for your sakes, and will take care of you as long as I
can." He did so, and was really taken prisoner, but was not permitted to
do much for those for whom he had made such a noble sacrifice. He was
Doctor Cleland, of Detroit, Michigan.
When the order was given to retreat that night, I started with my colt,
having a good saddle and bridle on him now, which I had taken off a dead
horse on the battle-field, and reached Malvern Hill about two o'clock in
the morning. After hitching my horse, and unstrapping a small bag of oats
and my blanket from the saddle, I fed him, and proceeded to take a glance
around, to see how things looked. The artillery was already in position,
and the weary troops were in line of battle, but flat on the ground and
fast asleep--all except the guards, who were pacing backward and forward
in front of the line, ready to arouse the sleepers at any moment. Feeling
safe to consign myself to the arms of Morpheus after this reconnoissance,
I returned, wrapped myself in my blanket, and slept until the thundering
of cannon awoke me in the morning.
Malvern Hill is an elevated plateau, about a mile and a half by
three-fourths of a mile in area, nearly cleared of timber, and with
several converging roads running over it. In front there are numerous
ravines. The ground slopes gradually toward the northeast to the wooded
plain beyond, giving clear ranges for artillery in different directions.
The batteries were advantageously posted on those hills, while the reserve
troops were sheltered as much as possible by the ravines. The artillery of
the reserve was placed in position so as to bring the concentrated fire of
sixty guns to bear upon the enemy's front and left, approaching from
Richmond or White Oak Swamp. The brave Colonel Tyler, First Connecticut,
with great exertion succeeded in getting ten of his siege guns in position
on the highest point of the hill; the men having to haul many of them up
by hand. Commodore Rodgers, commanding the flotilla on James river,
placed his gun-boats in position to protect the left flank and to command
the approaches from Richmond.
The battle commenced about nine o'clock in the morning, and raged all day
with terrible fury. At three in the afternoon the enemy attacked our right
and center with tremendous force both of artillery and infantry. The
artillery was replied to with good effect, but our infantry lay upon the
ground and withheld their fire until the advancing column was within short
musket range, when they sprang to their feet and poured in a deadly volley
which entirely broke the attacking force, and drove the rebels back some
eight hundred yards in great confusion.
The battle raged most furiously hour after hour, the enemy advancing in
massive column, often without order, but with perfect recklessness; and
the concentrated fire of our gun-boats, batteries and infantry mowing down
the advancing host in a most fearful manner, until the slain lay in heaps
upon the field.
At four o'clock the firing ceased along the rebel line, and it was
supposed the battle was over; but it proved only a calm before a more
terrible storm.
At six o'clock the enemy suddenly opened upon the left of our line with
the whole strength of his artillery, and fiercely pushed forward his
column of attack to carry the hill. His infantry in immense force formed
under cover of the woods, and starting on a run across the open space,
charging almost up to the muzzle of the guns of our advance batteries,
came rushing on with yells and imprecations--but in a moment the whole
hill was one blaze of light--those terrible siege guns had belched forth a
murderous fire, and a simultaneous volley from the gun boats, infantry and
numerous batteries, sent the enemy reeling back to shelter, leaving the
ground covered with their dead and wounded. Then our men dashed forward
with the bayonet, with wild shouts and cheers, capturing prisoners and
colors, and driving the routed rebels in confusion from the field.
At a little past four in the afternoon, when there was a lull in the
terrible storm of grape and cannister, I ventured to go to a house which
stood about half way between our line of battle and that of the enemy. I
found a large quantity of flour, bacon, smoked ham, etc. The appearance of
everything in the house indicated that the family had left suddenly,
without disturbing anything. The dishes were on the table, as if the
family had risen from dinner; the beds and bedding too remained
undisturbed; the late inhabitants seemed to have thought of nothing but of
saving their lives and escaping from the Yankees.
[Illustration: FOOD FOR THE FAMISHING.--Page 227.]
I was not long in searching cupboard, pantry and store-room, and
appropriating tea, baking-soda, cream-of-tartar, et cetera. But in order
to reach the house unobserved by the rebels I had been obliged to
crawl there on my hands and feet, and now the question arose how was I to
carry anything back with me? Taking a bed-quilt I spread it on the floor
and commenced selecting the most important articles, such as a small bag
of flour, ham, an iron spider, a large coffee-pot, and some other things;
after tying these up in the quilt I attached a long bed-cord to the
bundle, intending to drag it along the ground. Just as I was completing my
arrangements, a shell came crashing through the side of the house, and
passing through the window on the opposite side, it made the house tremble
as if shaken by an earthquake. Then another and another came in quick
succession until I was obliged to seek refuge in the cellar. The rebels
evidently thought that the house contained a band of our sharpshooters,
and were determined to dislodge them if possible, for they brought three
pieces to bear upon it for about twenty minutes, until they succeeded in
setting it on fire. Before the echo of the last shot had died away I heard
the crackling of the fire above my head, and thought it prudent to make an
attempt to escape. I did not find it very difficult to do so, as the fire
was principally confined to the upper part of the house. So taking my
precious burden of provisions, which still lay unharmed on the floor, I
began my retreat in the same manner in which I had advanced, drawing my
pack after me by means of the cord. I could not make much progress,
however, for I found it very difficult to drag that immense weight over
the rough ground. But I at length succeeded in reaching the lines, and was
hailed by hearty cheers from those who were anxiously awaiting the result
of my hazardous mission. Several of the boys caught up the spoil and
carried it to the rear, where we built a fire and commenced cooking
immediately. An hour later we had a nice lot of hot bread, fried ham and
tea ready for disposal.
Oh, I shall never forget the thrill of pleasure which I experienced when I
carried this food and set it before those famishing men, and saw them eat
it with a sort of awe and reverence as if it had fallen from heaven. One
of the men looked up, with moistened eyes, and said: "Bob, do you know
that this food has been sent us by our heavenly Father, just as much as
the manna was sent to the Children of Israel? That boy risked his life in
procuring it for us, but he never would have returned from that burning
building if God had not shielded him from the bursting shell. I believe it
has just come in time to save me from sharing the fate of poor
Trowbridge."
The battle of Malvern Hill presented, by far, the most sublime spectacle I
ever witnessed. All the battles I had seen before, and those which I have
seen since, were nothing to be compared to it. The elevated position which
the army occupied, the concentration of such an immense force in so small
compass, such a quantity of artillery on those hills all in operation at
the same time, the reflection of the flashes of fire from hundreds of guns
upon the dense cloud of smoke which hung suspended in the heavens, turning
it into a pillar of fire which reminded one of the camp of the Israelites
and of God's dealings with His people of old, the vivid flashes of
lightning, the terrific peals of thunder mingled with the continuous blaze
of musketry, sudden explosions of shell and the deafening roar of cannon,
combined to make a scene which was _awfully grand_. My soul was filled
with the sublimity and grandeur of the scene, notwithstanding the ghastly
wounds and piteous groans of the mangled, helpless ones around me. Thus it
continued from seven to nine in the evening, the most thrilling picture
which the imagination can conceive.
As soon as the firing ceased the rear of the army began to move off in the
direction of Harrison's Landing, and the exhausted troops in front threw
themselves upon the ground to rest.
The greater portion of the transportation of the army having been started
for Harrison's Landing during the night, the order was at once issued for
the movement of the army upon the final repulse of the enemy at Malvern
Hill. The troops were to move by the left and rear; General Keyes' corps
being ordered to remain in position until all had moved off--then to cover
the retreat.
General McClellan, in his official report, awards great credit to General
Keyes for the manner in which he carried out these orders. He took every
advantage of the ground to open new avenues to aid the movement, and made
preparations to obstruct the roads as soon as the army had withdrawn.
In this way the march to Harrison's Landing was continued; the bridges
were all destroyed and timber felled across the roads immediately after
the army passed, thus rendering any rapid pursuit by the enemy impossible.
The trains were kept in the middle of the road, leaving room for the
infantry on each side, so as to be in good position to repel any attack
which might be made during the march. His dispositions were so successful
that, to use his own words: "I do not think more vehicles or any more
public property were abandoned on the march from Turkey bridge than would
have been left, in the same state of the roads, if the army had been
moving toward the enemy instead of away from him; and when it is
understood that the carriages and teams belonging to the army, stretched
out in one line, would extend not far from forty miles, the energy and
caution necessary for their safe withdrawal from the presence of an enemy
in vastly superior numbers will be appreciated."
"High praise," says the commanding general, "is also due to the officers
and men of the First Connecticut Artillery, Colonel Tyler, for the manner
in which they withdrew all the heavy guns during the seven days and from
Malvern Hill. Owing to the crowded state of the roads the teams could not
be brought within a couple of miles of the position; but these energetic
soldiers removed the guns by hand for that distance, leaving nothing
behind."
The enemy followed the army with a small force, and occasionally threw a
few shells at the rear-guard, but were quickly dispersed by our batteries
and gun-boats, and on the evening of the third of July the entire army
reached the Landing.
The troops presented a most distressing appearance as they drew up in
line, and stacked their guns at Harrison's Bar. The rain had been pouring
down most of the night, and was still drenching the poor battle-worn,
foot-sore soldiers, and turning the roads into beds of mortar, and the low
marshy ground at the Landing into such a condition that it was impossible
to get along dry shod, except for those who rejoiced in the possession of
high boots.
The aggregate of our entire losses in the seven days' battles, from the
twenty-sixth of June to the first of July, inclusive, was ascertained,
after arriving at Harrison's Landing, to be fifteen thousand two hundred
and forty-nine, namely: fifteen hundred and eighty-two killed; seven
thousand seven hundred and nine wounded, and five thousand nine hundred
and fifty-eight missing.
On the fourth of July the following address was issued to the troops by
General McClellan:
"HEADQUARTERS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC
_Camp near Harrison's Landing_, July 4, 1862.
"Soldiers of the Army of the Potomac:--Your achievements of the last
ten days have illustrated the valor and endurance of the American
soldier. Attacked by superior forces, and without hope of
reinforcements, you have succeeded in changing your base of operations
by a flank movement, always regarded as the most hazardous of military
expedients. You have saved all your material, all your trains and all
your guns, except a few lost in battle, taking in return guns and
colors from the enemy. Upon your march, you have been assailed day
after day, with desperate fury, by men of the same race and nation,
skillfully massed and led. Under every disadvantage of number, and
necessarily of position also, you have in every conflict beaten back
your foes with enormous slaughter. Your conduct ranks you among the
celebrated armies of history. No one will now question that each of
you may always with pride say: 'I belong to the Army of the Potomac.'
You have reached the new base, complete in organization and unimpaired
in spirit. The enemy may at any moment attack you. We are prepared to
meet them. I have personally established your lines. Let them come,
and we will convert their repulse into a final defeat. Your
Government is strengthening you with the resources of a great people.
On this, our nation's birth-day, we declare to our foes, who are
enemies against the best interests of mankind, that this army shall
enter the capital of the so-called confederacy; that our national
constitution shall prevail, and that the Union, which can alone insure
internal peace and external security to each State, 'must and shall be
preserved,' cost what it may in time, treasure, and blood."