THE GRAND RETREAT.
Lee's army in pursuit--Sumner and Smith at Bay--Battle of
Savage's Station--The Vermont Brigade--Sick and wounded
abandoned--Retreat to White Oak Swamp--Battle of White Oak
Swamp--An astonished division--A night march--A mystery--In
sight of the James--Battle of Malvern Hill--Departure of the
princes--Gloom and anxiety--Lee's attack--The rebels
demoralized.
Meanwhile the rebel army, finding no force in front of them, were at
first at a loss to determine what course we had taken; but when it was
discovered that we had withdrawn from before both wings of their army
and that our base of supplies at White House had been abandoned, it was
quickly divined that the Union army was retreating to the James river.
Stuart, with his cavalry, had dashed down to White House and found only
heaps of smoldering ruins; and from the absence of all motion in front
of the right of their line, it was clear that no attempt was to be made
on Richmond. Finding himself thus unexpectedly victorious, Lee at once
ordered his forces, now on the north bank of the Chickahominy, to cross
over and pursue the retreating army.
During the night of the 28th, they had been actively engaged in
rebuilding the bridge destroyed by General Porter, and early on the
morning of the 29th, the main body of Lee's army was pouring across the
river. Hill and Longstreet moved rapidly so as to interpose between our
army and Richmond, and to be able to strike us on the flank; two other
divisions followed on the Charles City road, and Jackson, with his
corps, moved down the bank of the Chickahominy, threatening our rear.
To resist any attack from these approaching columns, Sumner's and
Heintzelman's corps, and our Second division of the Sixth corps, were
formed in line of battle before Savage's Station.
For hours our division, with Sumner's corps, stood in the open field
watching the enemy. Heintzelman withdrew his corps and left Sumner and
Smith to stem the tide that was destined to pour upon us. It seems to
have been the impression of General Heintzelman, who had listened with
credulity to the stories of the immense superiority of the enemy in
numbers, that all hope of resisting the power of Lee's army was gone,
and that there remained nothing for us but to make the best of our way
to the James river without stopping to give the enemy battle.
In the view that there was no safety but in retreat, he was guided by
the opinion of the Commander-in-Chief, who had no thought of any further
resistance than should suffice to bring the men and as much of the
material of the army as could be brought by the teams across the
Peninsula. Not so the old war horse Sumner. He would gladly have
attempted, a few hours later, to have "pushed the rebels into the
Chickahominy," had not his application for help been answered from
beyond White Oak Swamp, "The rear-guard will follow the retreat of the
main body of the army." If there was no hope for the army but rapid
retreat, then it was right for Heintzelman to leave the road clear; for
as it was, with only Sumner's corps and our own division, the road was
packed so full that the men could scarcely march. But if there was an
opportunity of inflicting great injury upon the rebels, as Sumner
believed there was, then we are not surprised at the amazement of the
veteran when he discovered, the battle having commenced, that one corps
had left the line altogether. We were now as near our new base of
supplies as the rebels were to theirs, and here we had enough to last
the army many days. We were, as they had been, on the defensive; and we
had the advantage in position. But there was nothing left for those now
on the line but to make the best resistance possible under the
circumstances, and then fall back to the banks of the James.
About five o'clock the huge cloud of dust in the direction of the camps
we had deserted, gave warning of the approach of that part of the rebel
army which was marching by the Charles City road; and at sunset the
thunders of their artillery burst upon us. For an hour, only the heavy
roar of artillery was heard from both sides. Shells screamed from one
side to the other, and the bright flashes and sharp reports, as they
burst in the air, mingled with the noise and smoke of the battle, as
battery responded to battery. Thus far no discharge of musketry was
heard; but suddenly Magruder's men, with yells and shouts, rushed to the
charge. Streams of fire flashed along the two lines, and the rattle of
innumerable muskets told of closer work than artillery duels. The brave
fellows of Sumner, and of our Vermont brigade, met the assailants with
defiant shouts that rang out above the roar of muskets and cannon.
Leaving Sumner's heroes to contend the ground on their part of the line,
let us glance more in detail at the part borne by our own division in
this battle of Savage's Station.
The Vermont brigade having the advance of the division, General Brooks
at once threw his regiments to the front. The Fifth and Sixth as
skirmishers, supported by the Third and Second in line of battle, the
Fourth being thrown upon the flank, the brigade advanced rapidly through
a wide strip of woods. Suddenly, as the line of skirmishers emerged from
the woods they received the fire of a battery and of a strong line of
battle. The Fifth at once charged upon the force in front, which
scattered in all directions. The rebels were beaten back both from our
own and from Sumner's front; but only to reform and press forward again
from the cover of the woods to which they had retreated, to give battle
with new vigor. Again the flash and roar of musketry mingled with the
wild yells of the rebels and the manly shouts of the Unionists, and
again nothing could be seen but the clouds of smoke, out of which sprung
the vivid blaze of the cannon, and the quick flash of the rifles. Every
now and then, fresh troops arriving upon the field would send up the
shout above all the other noise of battle, and then nothing but the
continuous din of arms could be heard. Three rebel regiments now
advanced against the Fifth Vermont; but the brave fellows secured a good
position and held it, in spite of every effort of the rebels to dislodge
them. The other regiments were not so hotly engaged as the Fifth. Two
hundred of the men of that regiment were killed, wounded or missing.
Fifty of their dead bodies were left on the field. Davidson's and
Hancock's brigades guarded important positions, but were not actively
engaged.
The conflict raged till eight o'clock, when the confederates, repulsed
at every point, beaten and discouraged, left the field, and no more was
seen of them. The whole loss to the confederates in this engagement was
about four hundred.
Before midnight, the rear-guard had turned toward White Oak Swamp,
leaving many hundreds of our brave wounded and sick men lying upon the
green sward, or collected under rude shelters. Here, large groups were
gathered under the shade of some large tree; and there, long lines of
staggering invalids, leaning upon their guns or staffs for support,
tottered after the retreating column, in the hope of being able to reach
with it a place of safety.
Surgeons were left to care for these unfortunate ones who could not get
off; and a small amount out of the abundance of provisions that was
condemned to destruction was saved for them. Of all the sad scenes which
had made the Peninsula swarm with melancholy memories, nothing we had
seen could compare with this most sorrowful of all. Twenty-five hundred
of our sick and wounded were left to fall into the hands of the enemy.
At nine or ten in the evening, we withdrew from our position before
Savage's Station, and marched rapidly toward White Oak Swamp. The road
was completely filled with wagons, ambulances and artillery, mingled
with horsemen and infantry, all crowding forward with utmost speed.
Never had our men experienced so severe a march. They were obliged to
pick their way among the teams, losing all organization, each man bent
upon making his way forward regardless of others.
At length, toward morning, we crossed White Oak creek, ascended a little
elevation on the further side, and lay down upon the grass completely
exhausted and worn out.
The sun was shining brightly when we were roused from our heavy
slumbers. The morning passed in perfect quiet except the rattle of the
trains which had parked here over night, and now were hurrying along the
narrow road, wagons and artillery rushing by with all speed to allow
room for the immense collection to file out. This process continued till
afternoon, and was the only source of excitement to us except the
distant roar of battle on the left, where McCall and Hooker were hotly
engaged. Thus matters continued until about two o'clock; the men seeking
shelter among the pines or resting quietly after their weary night's
march. A picket line composed of men from the various regiments of our
Third brigade, Second division, guarding our extreme right flank. All
were listless and little dreaming of the tremendous storm of iron hail
which was gathering to break upon us in a moment.
Suddenly, like a thunderbolt, seventy-five pieces of artillery belched
forth their sheets of flame and howling shells; and in an instant, our
whole division was thrown into the most perfect confusion by the deadly
missiles which flew among us in every direction. Such cannonading had
never before been heard by our army, and before our batteries could
reply with any effect, the horses were killed, the gunners dispersed and
the pieces disabled. It was a most perfect surprise; no one was
prepared; men ran hither and thither seeking shelter behind any object
which seemed even sufficient to conceal them from the view of the enemy.
It appeared that Jackson had effected a crossing of the river, and with
great secrecy made his way to the border of White Oak creek, where,
concealed by trees and underbrush, he had massed his batteries, and when
all was in perfect readiness had opened upon us this storm of death.
Unutterable confusion prevailed for a time; riderless horses galloped
madly to the rear; men rushed here and there; officers wandered about
without commands, and men were left without directions how to act.
Generals Smith and Davidson occupied an old fashioned wooden house which
stood upon the brow of the elevation above and facing the bridge. About
it were many orderlies, holding their horses, or lounging carelessly, or
chatting with each other. The very first volley riddled the house with
shells; orderlies rushed from the place in consternation and the inmates
quickly appeared without, gazing in amazement toward the source of this
unexpected cause of the tumult. The gray-haired owner of the house was
cut in two as he stood in the door, and several other persons were more
or less injured. General Smith, at the moment the cannonade opened, was
engaged at his rude toilette; his departure from the house was so hasty
that he left his watch, which he did not recover. He coolly walked off
to a less exposed position and devoted himself to restoring order. One
regiment, as soon as the shells began to fly, rushed pell-mell to the
rear, none of the men standing upon the order of their going.
During all this time a few of the regiments held their ground without
moving. By active exertions, on the part of officers, order was restored
and the whole division fell back a short distance, taking up a position
at the edge of a strip of woods, which commanded an open field. General
Smith, with his accustomed fearlessness, was to be seen riding along his
lines exhorting his men to coolness, and by his own composure restoring
confidence to them. The design of Jackson, to cross the stream, was
frustrated. The firing soon ceased, and, as darkness came on, quiet
again reigned, except now and then a little skirmishing.
At nine o'clock in the evening, under cover of the darkness, we silently
and hastily withdrew. All orders were given in whispers; men refrained
from conversation; and everything indicated the most intense anxiety on
the part of our generals for the safety of the army. Thus, in silence,
we hastened on our way; the weary and exhausted troops scarcely able to
keep awake while they marched. No better illustration can be given of
the intense state of anxiety, excitement and doubt which prevailed, than
the following little incident, which occurred during this night march.
Our Third brigade, leading the Second division, had halted where the
narrow road passed through a piece of woods, waiting a moment for the
road to clear, or for the guides to report the direction for the march.
Generals Franklin and Davidson, with officers of Davidson's brigade,
were grouped together near the head of the column, sitting upon their
horses. The weary men, almost overcome by sleep, were leaning upon their
muskets or lying in the road half asleep. Officers nodded and swung this
way and that in their saddles. The stillness of death prevailed. In an
instant, without any perceptible cause, as though a breath from some
evil genius had swept the narrow track, every man was gone from the
road. They stood in the woods looking with breathless wonder into the
road for the unseen danger. After the first moment of surprise, the word
passed along, in low tones, "Attention!" Not a living being could be
seen in the road, and all was silence. Recovering from the first
surprise, General Davidson looked for General Franklin, who, but a
moment before, was dozing by his side. "General Franklin! General
Franklin!" called the general in a loud whisper, but nothing could be
found of him, and we saw no more of him that night. What was the cause
of this sudden alarm we never knew. Possibly, a riderless horse might
have suddenly startled those in front, or, quite as likely, there was no
cause whatever; but the incident illustrates the state of feeling in the
army that night.
At length, just as the gray light of the morning was streaking the
skies, we came in sight of the majestic James river. Every man took a
long breath, as though relieved of a heavy load of anxiety. Officers
clasped their hands and exclaimed, "Thank God." The worn out men stepped
lighter, for they had arrived at the haven of their hopes. Again they
experienced a feeling of safety. We filed into a beautiful clover field,
and there the exhausted columns sunk down for a brief rest. Brief it was
to be, for scarcely had two hours passed when we were ordered into line
of battle. We moved back through the woods, crossing a little stream,
and formed in a wheat field, where the grain stood in shocks. Here we
remained, watching the enemy, who stood in our front, contenting
themselves with occasional sallies of their skirmishers, while the great
battle of Malvern Hill was in progress on our left, where the booming of
our field pieces and the dull roar of the heavy guns from the gunboats
was heard for many hours. At length, as night came on, the sound of
battle died away, and all was again quiet. Now we heard cheers on the
left, and, looking in that direction, we saw, approaching at great
speed, the commander of the Union army. Cheers greeted him as he rode
along the line, and hats were thrown high in the air in honor of the
chief.
As the leading corps of the army had fallen back from White Oak Swamp,
they had occupied a superb position on the James river, called Malvern
Hill. The wagons and other impedimentia of the army had also arrived
there, and were secured behind the southern slope of the hill. The place
was admirably adapted for a defensive battle. It was a lofty plateau,
rising not less than one hundred and fifty feet above the plain, sloping
gently toward the north and east, down to the border of the forest. The
approach to this sloping field was rendered difficult by ravines, which
ran along the front; and the enemy, if he approached, must do so by way
of the roads which crossed them.
Upon the crest was posted the battery of siege guns which had escaped
the hands of the enemy; and nearly three hundred field pieces were
arranged along the heights, so that the fire might pass over the heads
of the infantry, who were arranged upon the glacis, up which the enemy
must charge, hidden, for the most part, by the tall wheat and corn. Here
the main body of the army was posted. First, nearest the James, was
Porter's corps; then Heintzelman's, Keyes', Sumner's and our Sixth
corps, occupying the right flank, two or three miles from the position
where the rebels must advance with their main force. The fleet of
gunboats floated upon the river, on our left flank, ready to send their
screaming monster shells into the ranks of the advancing enemy.
Against this position, naturally almost impregnable, Lee hurled his
hosts, with the design of giving the final blow to the Union army, which
should insure its destruction and capture. The rebel army confidently
believed that the army of the north must now be compelled to surrender
or be driven into the James.
If the rebels were confident and exultant, our own men were filled with
the deepest despondency.
Exhausted by a month of constant labor and watchfulness, with fighting
and marching and digging, now, as they believed, fleeing from the face
of an enemy immensely superior to them in numbers, it is not to be
wondered at that they were apprehensive of the worst results.
Paymasters sought refuge with their treasures in the gunboats on the
river. The Prince De Joinville and his nephews, the Count De Paris and
Count De Chartes, who had acted as aides de camp to General McClellan,
who had been with us from the beginning, active, brave men, who were
frequently where the danger was greatest, and who had entered our
service with the determination of seeing it to the end, now departed;
they, too, finding a respite from their toils upon one of the gunboats.
The young men were accompanied on board by the staff and by the
Commander-in-Chief himself. From the deck of the vessel he communicated
his orders by the signal flags, to those left in command on shore. Here,
with his young friends, and in consultation with the commander of the
fleet, he remained until about five o'clock, when he rode down the lines
to the rear of our corps, where he spent the time till darkness put an
end to the fight.
Such was the sad state of feeling in our army. Yet, exhausted and
depressed as they were, our men were as brave and determined as ever.
They had yet a country; and they knew that the fate of that country
depended upon the result of this encounter, and they resolved to acquit
themselves with heroism and even desperation.
Lee had marshaled his whole force in front of our strong position. He
wrote to each of his division commanders ordering an assault, and
directing, when they heard the yell of Armistead's troops, to charge
also with yells.
The yell was heard, and some of the divisions, but not all, pressed
forward to a wild charge.
The rebels came on heroically, but were sent reeling back down the slope
in confusion and disorder. Again and again they renewed the charge from
under cover of the woods which skirted the base of the slope. They would
start across the open space, charging our batteries with wild yells, but
the heavy fire of our guns and the steady volleys of our infantry sent
them back as often to the shelter of the woods. At times our infantry
would reserve their fire till the rebel columns had run the gauntlet of
shot and shell from our batteries, almost reaching our lines, when with
exultant cheers they would bound forward to seize the prize now almost
within their grasp, when our men would open upon them a single volley,
and, leaping over the breastworks, pursue the panic-stricken assailants,
capturing prisoners and colors, and driving the rebels in confusion down
the slope. Thus the battle raged with terrible fury; every attempt on
the part of the enemy failing, until darkness set in, and the rebel
chiefs were glad to let the battle subside; though it was not till nine
o'clock the artillery firing ceased.
The weight of the attacks had been upon our center. Here Couch, Sumner
and Heintzelman withstood the shock of battle for hours, only a part of
Porter's corps being engaged, and neither our Sixth corps nor Casey's
division of Keyes' corps being actively in the fight.
The rebel General Trimble thus describes the condition of their army on
the morning after the battle:
"The next morning by dawn I went off to ask for orders, when I found the
whole army in the utmost disorder. Thousands of straggling men were
asking every passer-by for their regiments; ambulances, wagons and
artillery obstructing every road; and altogether in a drenching rain
presenting a scene of the most woful and heart-rending confusion."
Had but a show of an attack upon such an army been made, it must have
resulted in defeat and utter rout to the rebels.