Destruction and Reconstruction Part 4

Leaving a staff officer to direct my rear regiment--the 7th, Colonel Hays--to form in the wood as a reserve, I ordered the attack, though the deployment was not completed, and our rapid march by a narrow path had occasioned some disorder. With a rush and shout the gorge was pa.s.sed and we were in the battery. Surprise had aided us, but the enemy's infantry rallied in a moment and drove us out. We returned, to be driven a second time. The riflemen on the slope worried us no little, and two companies of the 9th regiment were sent up the gorge to gain ground above and dislodge them, which was accomplished. The fighting in and around the battery was hand to hand, and many fell from bayonet wounds. Even the artillerymen used their rammers in a way not laid down in the Manual, and died at their guns. As Conan said to the devil, "'Twas claw for claw." I called for Hays, but he, the promptest of men, and his splendid regiment, could not be found. Something unexpected had occurred, but there was no time for speculation. With a desperate rally, in which I believe the drummer-boys shared, we carried the battery for the third time, and held it. Infantry and riflemen had been driven off, and we began to feel a little comfortable, when the enemy, arrested in his advance by our attack, appeared. He had countermarched, and, with left near the river, came into full view of our situation. Wheeling to the right, with colors advanced, like a solid wall he marched straight upon us. There seemed nothing left but to set our backs to the mountain and die hard. At the instant, crashing through the underwood, came Ewell, outriding staff and escort. He produced the effect of a reenforcement, and was welcomed with cheers. The line before us halted and threw forward skirmishers. A moment later, a sh.e.l.l came shrieking along it, loud Confederate cheers reached our delighted ears, and Jackson, freed from his toils, rushed up like a whirlwind, the enemy in rapid retreat.

We turned the captured guns on them as they pa.s.sed, Ewell serving as a gunner. Though rapid, the retreat never became a rout. Fortune had refused her smiles, but Shields's brave "boys" preserved their organization and were formidable to the last; and had Shields himself, with his whole command, been on the field, we should have had tough work indeed.

Jackson came up, with intense light in his eyes, grasped my hand, and said the brigade should have the captured battery. I thought the men would go mad with cheering, especially the Irishmen. A huge fellow, with one eye closed and half his whiskers burned by powder, was riding c.o.c.k-horse on a gun, and, catching my attention, yelled out, "We told you to bet on your boys." Their success against brother Patlanders seemed doubly welcome. Strange people, these Irish! Fighting every one's battles, and cheerfully taking the hot end of the poker, they are only found wanting when engaged in what they believe to be their national cause. Excepting the defense of Limerick under brilliant Sarsfield, I recall no domestic struggle in which they have shown their worth.

While Jackson pursued the enemy without much effect, as his cavalry, left in front of Fremont, could not get over till late, we attended to the wounded and performed the last offices to the dead, our own and the Federal. I have never seen so many dead and wounded in the same limited s.p.a.ce. A large farmhouse on the plain, opposite the mouth of the gorge, was converted into a hospital. Ere long my lost 7th regiment, sadly cut up, rejoined. This regiment was in rear of the column when we left Jackson to gain the path in the woods, and before it filed out of the road his thin line was so pressed that Jackson ordered Hays to stop the enemy's rush. This was done, for the 7th would have stopped a herd of elephants, but at a fearful cost. Colonel Hays was severely wounded, among many others, and the number of killed was large. Upon my promotion to Major-General, Hays succeeded to the command of the brigade, served through the war, returned to the practice of the law, and died in New Orleans. He was brother to Colonel Jack Hays, formerly of Texas, now of California, and shared much of the fighting ability of that renowned partisan.

The young officer who guided us through the wood deserves mention, as he was one of the first to reach the battery, where he was killed.

Lieutenant English, near Harper's Ferry, Virginia, proved to be his name and place of birth.

Many hours pa.s.sed in discharge of sad duties to the wounded and dead, during which Fremont appeared on the opposite bank of the river and opened his guns; but, observing doubtless our occupation, he ceased his fire, and after a short time withdrew. It may be added here that Jackson had caused such alarm at Washington as to start Milroy, Banks, Fremont, and Shields toward that capital, and the great valley was cleared of the enemy.

We pa.s.sed the night high up the mountain, where we moved to reach our supply wagons. A cold rain was falling, and before we found them every one was tired and famished. I rather took it out of the train-master for pushing so far up, although I had lunched comfortably from the haversack of a dead Federal. It is not pleasant to think of now, but war _is_ a little hardening.

On the 12th of June the army moved down to the river, above Port Republic, where the valley was wide, with many trees, and no enemy to worry or make us afraid. Here closed Jackson's wonderful Valley campaign of 1862.[3]

[Footnote 3: A part of the foregoing text was published in the number of the "North American Review" for March, 1878, under the t.i.tle of "Stonewall Jackson and the Valley Campaign." In a kind and friendly letter, dated New York, March 21, General Shields corrects some misapprehensions into which I had fallen, more especially concerning his _personal_ connection with the events described. I had been unable to procure a copy of General Shields's report, which, he informs me in the same letter, was suppressed by Secretary Stanton.]

The Louisiana brigade marched from its camp near Conrad's store, to join Jackson at Newmarket, on the 21st of May. In twenty days it marched over two hundred miles, fought in five actions, of which three were severe, and several skirmishes, and, though it had suffered heavy loss in officers and men, was yet strong, hard as nails, and full of confidence. I have felt it a duty to set forth the achievements of the brigade, than which no man ever led braver into action, in their proper light, because such reputation as I gained in this campaign is to be ascribed to its excellence.

For the first time since several weeks, friend Ewell and I had a chance to renew our talks; but events soon parted us again. Subsequently he was wounded in the knee at the second battle of Mana.s.sas, and suffered amputation of the leg in consequence. His absence of mind nearly proved fatal. Forgetting his condition, he suddenly started to walk, came down on the stump, imperfectly healed, and produced violent haemorrhage.

About the close of the war he married Mrs. Brown, a widow, and daughter of Judge Campbell, a distinguished citizen of Tennessee, who had represented the United States at the court of St. Petersburg, where this lady was born. She was a kinswoman of Ewell, and said to have been his early love. He brought her to New Orleans in 1866, where I hastened to see him. He took me by the hand and presented me to "my wife, Mrs.

Brown." How well I remember our chat! How he talked of his plans and hopes and happiness, and of his great lot of books, which he was afraid he would never be able to read through. The while "my wife, Mrs. Brown,"

sat by, handsome as a picture, smiling on her General, as well she might, so n.o.ble a gentleman. A few short years, and both he and his wife pa.s.sed away within an hour of each other; but his last years were made happy by her companionship, and comfortable by the wealth she had brought him. Dear d.i.c.k Ewell! Virginia never bred a truer gentleman, a braver soldier, nor an odder, more lovable fellow.

On the second day in this camp General Winder came to me and said that he had asked leave to go to Richmond, been refused, and resigned. He commanded Jackson's old brigade, and was aggrieved by some unjust interference. Holding Winder in high esteem, I hoped to save him to the army, and went to Jackson, to whose magnanimity I appealed, and to arouse this dwelt on the rich harvest of glory he had reaped in his brilliant campaign. Observing him closely, I caught a glimpse of the man's inner nature. It was but a glimpse. The curtain closed, and he was absorbed in prayer. Yet in that moment I saw an ambition boundless as Cromwell's, and as merciless. This latter quality was exhibited in his treatment of General Richard Garnett, cousin to Robert Garnett, before mentioned, and his codisciple at West Point. I have never met officer or soldier, present at Kernstown, who failed to condemn the harsh treatment of Garnett after that action. Richard Garnett was subsequently restored to command at my instance near Jackson, and fell on the field of Gettysburg.

No reply was made to my effort for Winder, and I rose to take my leave, when Jackson said he would ride with me. We pa.s.sed silently along the way to my camp, where he left me. That night a few lines came from Winder, to inform me that Jackson had called on him, and his resignation was withdrawn.

Charles Winder was born in Maryland, graduated at West Point in 1850, embarked soon thereafter for California in charge of a detachment of recruits, was wrecked on the coast, and saved his men by his coolness and energy. He left the United States army to join the Confederacy, and was killed at Cedar Run some weeks after this period. Had he lived, he would have reached and adorned high position.

And now a great weariness and depression fell upon me. I was threatened with a return of the illness experienced the previous autumn. For many weeks I had received no intelligence from my family. New Orleans had fallen, and my wife and children resided there or on an estate near the city. I hoped to learn of them at Richmond; change might benefit health, and matters were quiet in the Valley. Accordingly, a short leave was asked for and granted; and although I returned within three days to join my command on the march to Cold Harbor, we were absorbed in the larger army operating against McClellan, and I saw but little of Jackson.

I have written that he was ambitious; and his ambition was vast, all-absorbing. Like the unhappy wretch from whose shoulders sprang the foul serpent, he loathed it, perhaps feared it; but he could not escape it--it was himself--nor rend it--it was his own flesh. He fought it with prayer, constant and earnest--Apollyon and Christian in ceaseless combat. What limit to set to his ability I know not, for he was ever superior to occasion. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances it was difficult to estimate him because of his peculiarities--peculiarities that would have made a lesser man absurd, but that served to enhance his martial fame, as those of Samuel Johnson did his literary eminence. He once observed, in reply to an allusion to his severe marching, that it was better to lose one man in marching than five in fighting; and, acting on this, he invariably surprised the enemy--Milroy at McDowell, Banks and Fremont in the Valley, McClellan's right at Cold Harbor, Pope at second Mana.s.sas.

Fortunate in his death, he fell at the summit of glory, before the sun of the Confederacy had set, ere defeat, and suffering, and selfishness could turn their fangs upon him. As one man, the South wept for him; foreign nations shared the grief; even Federals praised him. With Wolfe and Nelson and Havelock, he took his place in the hearts of English-speaking peoples.

In the first years of this century, a great battle was fought on the plains of the Danube. A determined charge on the Austrian center gained the victory for France. The courage and example of a private soldier, who there fell, contributed much to the success of the charge. Ever after, at the parades of his battalion, the name of Latour d'Auvergne was first called, when the oldest sergeant stepped to the front and answered, "Died on the field of honor." In Valhalla, beyond the grave, where spirits of warriors a.s.semble, when on the roll of heroes the name of Jackson is reached, it will be for the majestic shade of Lee to p.r.o.nounce the highest eulogy known to our race--"Died on the field of duty."

I reached Richmond, by Charlottesville and Lynchburg, the day after leaving camp, and went to the war office, where I found letters from my family. My wife and children had left New Orleans on a steamer just as Farragut's fleet arrived, and were on the Atchafalaya River with friends, all well. While reading my letters, an acquaintance in high position in the office greeted me, but went on to say, if I knew what was afoot, my stay in Richmond would be short. Taking the hint, and feeling improved in health in consequence of relief from anxiety about my family, I returned to the station at once, and took rail to Charlottesville. Arrived there, I met the Valley army in march to the southeast, and joined my command.

That night we camped between Charlottesville and Gordonsville, in Orange County, the birthplace of my father. A distant kinsman, whom I had never met, came to invite me to his house in the neighborhood. Learning that I always slept in camp, he seemed so much distressed as to get my consent to breakfast with him, if he would engage to have breakfast at the barbarous hour of sunrise. His house was a little distant from the road; so, the following morning, he sent a mounted groom to show the way. My aide, young Hamilton, accompanied me, and Tom of course followed. It was a fine old mansion, surrounded by well-kept grounds. This immediate region had not yet been touched by war. Flowering plants and rose trees, in full bloom, attested the glorious wealth of June. On the broad portico, to welcome us, stood the host, with his fresh, charming wife, and, a little retired, a white-headed butler. Greetings over with host and lady, this delightful creature, with ebon face beaming hospitality, advanced, holding a salver, on which rested a huge silver goblet filled with Virginia's nectar, mint julep. Quant.i.ties of cracked ice rattled refreshingly in the goblet; sprigs of fragrant mint peered above its broad rim; a ma.s.s of white sugar, too sweetly indolent to melt, rested on the mint; and, like rose buds on a snow bank, luscious strawberries crowned the sugar. Ah! that julep! Mars ne'er received such tipple from the hands of Ganymede. Breakfast was announced, and what a breakfast! A beautiful service, snowy table cloth, damask napkins, long unknown; above all, a lovely woman in crisp gown, with more and handsomer roses on her cheek than in her garden. 'Twas an idyl in the midst of the stern realities of war! The table groaned beneath its viands. Sable servitors brought in, hot and hot from the kitchen, cakes of wondrous forms, inventions of the tropical imagination of Africa, inflamed by Virginian hospitality. I was rather a moderate trencherman, but the performance of Hamilton was Gargantuan, alarming. Duty dragged us from this Eden; yet in hurried adieus I did not forget to claim of the fair hostess the privilege of a cousin. I watched Hamilton narrowly for a time. The youth wore a sodden, apoplectic look, quite out of his usual brisk form. A gallop of some miles put him right, but for many days he dilated on the breakfast with the gusto of one of Hannibal's veterans on the delights of Capua.

CHAPTER VI.

"THE SEVEN DAYS AROUND RICHMOND."

Leaving Gordonsville, we proceeded in a southeasterly direction, pa.s.sing Louisa Court House and Frederickshall, and camped at Ashland on the Fredericksburg Railway, twelve miles north of Richmond, on the evening of the 25th of June. To deceive the enemy, General Lee had sent to the Valley a considerable force under Generals Whiting, Hood, and Lawton.

The movement was openly made and speedily known at Washington, where it produced the desired impression, that Jackson would invade Maryland from the Valley. These troops reached Staunton by rail on the 17th, and, without leaving the train, turned back to Gordonsville, where they united with Jackson. The line from Gordonsville to Frederickshall, south of which point it had been interrupted, was used to facilitate our movement, but this was slow and uncertain. The advance frequently halted or changed direction. We were pushing between McDowell and McClellan's right, over ground recently occupied by the enemy. Bridges had been destroyed, and, to conceal the movement, no guides were trusted--an over-caution occasioning delay.

During the day and night of the 25th I suffered from severe pains in the head and loins, and on the morning of the 26th found it impossible to mount my horse; so the brigade marched under the senior colonel, Seymour, 6th regiment. A small ambulance was left with me, and my staff was directed to accompany Seymour and send back word if an engagement was imminent. Several messages came during the day, the last after nightfall, reporting the command to be camped near Pole Green Church, beyond the Chickahominy; so far, no fighting. Lying on the floor of a vacant house at Ashland, I had scarce consciousness to comprehend these messages. Pains in head and back continued, with loss of power to move my limbs.

Toward daylight of the 27th sleep came from exhaustion, and lasted some hours. From this I was aroused by sounds of artillery, loud and constant, brought by the easterly wind. Tom raised me into a sitting posture, and administered a cup of strong coffee. The sound of battle continued until it became unendurable, and I was put into the ambulance by Tom and the driver, the former following with the horses. We took the route by which the troops had marched, the din of conflict increasing with every mile, the rattle of small arms mingling with the thud of guns. After weary hours of rough road, every jolt on which threatened to destroy my remaining vitality, we approached Cold Harbor and met numbers of wounded. Among these was General Elzey, with a dreadful wound in the head and face. His aide was taking him to the rear in an ambulance, and, recognizing Tom, stopped a moment to tell of the fight. Ewell's division, to which Elzey and I belonged, had just been engaged with heavy loss. This was too much for any illness, and I managed somehow to struggle on to my horse and get into the action.

It was a wild scene. Battle was raging furiously. Shot, sh.e.l.l, and ball exploded and whistled. Hundreds of wounded were being carried off, while the ground was strewn with dead. Dense thickets of small pines covered much of the field, further obscured by clouds of smoke. The first troops encountered were D.H. Hill's, and, making way through these, I came upon Winder's, moving across the front from right to left. Then succeeded Elzey's of Ewell's division, and, across the road leading to Gaines's Mill, my own. Mangled and bleeding, as were all of Ewell's, it was holding the ground it had won close to the enemy's line, but unable to advance. The sun was setting as I joined, and at the moment cheers came up from our left, raised by Winder's command, which had turned and was sweeping the Federal right, while Lawton's Georgians, fresh and eager, attacked in our front. The enemy gave way, and, under cover of the night, retired over the Chickahominy. Firing continued for two hours, though darkness concealed everything.

The loss in my command was distressing. Wheat, of whom I have written, was gone, and Seymour, and many others. I had a wretched feeling of guilt, especially about Seymour, who led the brigade and died in my place. Colonel Seymour was born in Georgia, but had long resided in New Orleans, where he edited the leading commercial paper--a man of culture, respected of all. In early life he had served in Indian and Mexican wars, and his high spirit brought him to this, though past middle age.

Brave old Seymour! I can see him now, mounting the hill at Winchester, on foot, with sword and cap in hand, his thin gray locks streaming, turning to his st.u.r.dy Irishmen with "Steady, men! dress to the right!"

Georgia has been fertile of worthies, but will produce none more deserving than Colonel Seymour.

The following morning, while looking to the burial of the dead and care of the wounded, I had an opportunity of examining the field of battle.

The campaign around Richmond is too well known to justify me in entering into details, and I shall confine myself to events within my own experience, only enlarging on such general features as are necessary to explain criticism.

The Chickahominy, a sluggish stream and subject to floods, flows through a low, marshy bottom, draining the country between the Pamunky or York and James Rivers, into which last it discharges many miles below Richmond. The upper portion of its course from the crossing of the Central Railroad, six miles north of Richmond, to Long Bridge, some three times that distance to the southeast, is parallel with both the above-mentioned rivers. The bridges with which we were concerned at and after Cold Harbor were the Federal military bridges, Grapevine, York River Railroad, Bottom's, and Long, the lowermost; after which the stream, affected by tide, spread over a marshy country. The upper or Grapevine Bridge was on the road leading due south from Cold Harbor, and, pa.s.sing Savage's Station on York River Railroad, united with the Williamsburg road, which ran east from Richmond to Bottom's Bridge. A branch from this Williamsburg road continued on the south bank of the Chickahominy to Long Bridge, where it joined the Charles City, Darbytown, and Newmarket roads coming south-southeast from Richmond.

Many other roads, with no names or confusing ones, crossed this region, which was densely wooded and intersected by sluggish streams, draining the marshes into both the Chickahominy and James. We came upon two of these country roads leading in quite different directions, but bearing the same name, Grapevine; and it will astound advocates of phonics to learn that the name of _Darby_ (whence Darbytown) was thus p.r.o.nounced, while it was spelt and written _Enroughty_. A German philologist might have discovered, unaided, the connection between the sound and the letters; but it would hardly have occurred to mortals of less erudition.

At the beginning of operations in this Richmond campaign, Lee had seventy-five thousand men, McClellan one hundred thousand. Round numbers are here given, but they are taken from official sources. A high opinion has been expressed of the strategy of Lee, by which Jackson's forces from the Valley were suddenly thrust between McDowell and McClellan's right, and it deserves all praise; but the tactics on the field were vastly inferior to the strategy. Indeed, it may be confidently a.s.serted that from Cold Harbor to Malvern Hill, inclusive, there was nothing but a series of blunders, one after another, and all huge. The Confederate commanders knew no more about the topography of the country than they did about Central Africa. Here was a limited district, the whole of it within a day's march of the city of Richmond, capital of Virginia and the Confederacy, almost the first spot on the continent occupied by the British race, the Chickahominy itself cla.s.sic by legends of Captain John Smith and Pocahontas; and yet we were profoundly ignorant of the country, were without maps, sketches, or proper guides, and nearly as helpless as if we had been suddenly transferred to the banks of the Lualaba. The day before the battle of Malvern Hill, President Davis could not find a guide with intelligence enough to show him the way from one of our columns to another; and this fact I have from him.

People find a small cable in the middle of the ocean, a thousand fathoms below the surface. For two days we lost McClellan's great army in a few miles of woodland, and never had any definite knowledge of its movements. Let it be remembered, too, that McClellan had opened the peninsular campaign weeks before, indicating this very region to be the necessary theatre of conflict; that the Confederate commander (up to the time of his wound at Fair Oaks), General Johnston, had been a topographical engineer in the United States army; while his successor, General Lee--another engineer--had been on duty at the war office in Richmond and in constant intercourse with President Davis, who was educated at West Point and served seven years; and then think of our ignorance in a military sense of the ground over which we were called to fight. Every one must agree that it was amazing. Even now, I can scarcely realize it. McClellan was as superior to us in knowledge of our own land as were the Germans to the French in their late war, and owed the success of his retreat to it, although credit must be given to his ability. We had much praying at various headquarters, and large reliance on special providences; but none were vouchsafed, by pillar of cloud or fire, to supplement our ignorance; so we blundered on like people trying to read without knowledge of their letters.

To return to the field of Cold Harbor, the morning (Sat.u.r.day) after the battle. McClellan had chosen an excellent position, covering his military bridges over the Chickahominy. His left, resting on the river, and his center were covered by a small stream, one of its affluents, boggy and of difficult pa.s.sage. His right was on high ground, near Cold Harbor, in a dense thicket of pine-scrub, with artillery ma.s.sed. This position, three miles in extent, and enfiladed in front by heavy guns on the south bank of the Chickahominy, was held by three lines of infantry, one above the other on the rising ground, which was crowned with numerous batteries, concealed by timber. McClellan reported thirty-six thousand men present, including Sykes's and Porter's regulars; but reenforcements brought over during the action probably increased this number to fifty thousand. Lee had forty thousand on the field.

Longstreet attacked on our right, near the river, A.P. Hill on his left.

Jackson approached Cold Harbor from the north, his divisions in column on one road as follows: Ewell's, Whiting's, Lawton's (Georgians), and Winder's. At Cold Harbor Jackson united with the division of D.H. Hill, in advance of him, and directed it to _find_ and attack the enemy's right. His own divisions, in the order above named, were to come up on D.H. Hill's right and connect it with A.P. Hill's left. Artillery was only employed by the Confederates late in the day, and on their extreme left.

D.H. Hill and Ewell were speedily engaged, and suffered heavily, as did A.P. Hill and Longstreet, all attacking in front. Ignorance of the ground, densely wooded, and want of guides occasioned confusion and delay in the divisions to Ewell's rear. Lawton came to Ewell's support, Whiting to A.P. Hill's; while of the three brigades of the last division, the second went to Longstreet's right, the third to A.P.

Hill's center, and the first was taken by Winder, with a fine soldierly instinct, from right to left, across the battle, to reenforce D.H. Hill and turn the Federal position. This movement was decisive, and if executed earlier would have saved loss of men and time. So much for fighting on unknown ground.

During the day of Sat.u.r.day, McClellan remained on the south bank of the Chickahominy with guns in position guarding his bridges; and the only movement made by Lee was to send Stuart's cavalry east to the river terminus of the York Railway, and Ewell's division to the bridge of that line over the Chickahominy and to Bottom's, a short distance below. Late in the evening General Lee informed me that I would remain the following day to guard Bottom's and the railway bridges, while Stuart's cavalry watched the river below to Long Bridge and beyond. From all indications, he thought that McClellan would withdraw during the night, and expected to cross the river in the morning to unite with Magruder and Huger in pursuit. Holmes's division was to be brought from the south side of the James to bar the enemy's road; and he expressed some confidence that his dispositions would inflict serious loss on McClellan's army, if he could receive prompt and accurate information of that General's movements.

Meantime, I would remain until the following (Sunday) evening, unless sooner convinced of the enemy's designs, when I would cross Grapevine Bridge and follow Jackson. It is to be presumed that General Lee disclosed so much of his plans to his subordinates as he deemed necessary to insure their intelligent execution.

The morning light showed that the Federals had destroyed a part of the railway bridge near the center of the stream. We were opposite to Savage's Station (on the line toward Richmond), from which distinct sounds reached us, but dense forest limited vision to the margin of the river. Smoke rising above the trees, and explosions, indicated the destruction of stores. In the afternoon, a great noise of battle came--artillery, small arms, shouts. This, as we afterward learned, was Magruder's engagement at Savage's Station, but this din of combat was silenced to our ears by the following incident: A train was heard approaching from Savage's. Gathering speed, it came rushing on, and quickly emerged from the forest, two engines drawing a long string of carriages. Reaching the bridge, the engines exploded with terrific noise, followed in succession by explosions of the carriages, laden with ammunition. Sh.e.l.ls burst in all directions, the river was lashed into foam, trees were torn for acres around, and several of my men were wounded. The enemy had taken this means of destroying surplus ammunition.

After this queer action had ceased, as sunset was approaching, and all quiet at Bottom's Bridge, we moved up stream and crossed Grapevine Bridge, repaired by Jackson earlier in the day. Darkness fell as we bivouacked on the low ground south of the river. A heavy rain came down, converting the ground into a lake, in the midst of which a half-drowned courier, with a dispatch, was brought to me. With difficulty, underneath an ambulance, a light was struck to read the dispatch, which proved to be from Magruder, asking for reenforcements in front of Savage's Station, where he was then engaged. Several hours had elapsed since the courier left Magruder, and he could tell nothing beyond the fact of the engagement, the noise of which we had heard. It must be borne in mind that, during the operations north of the Chickahominy, the divisions of Magruder and Huger had remained in position between McClellan's left and Richmond.

In the night the enemy disappeared from Savage's, near which we pa.s.sed the following (Monday) morning, in march to rejoin Jackson. We encountered troops of Magruder's, Huger's, and other divisions, seeking to find their proper routes. Countless questions about roads were asked in vain. At length, we discovered that Jackson had followed the one nearest the Chickahominy, and about noon overtook the rear of his column, halted in the road. Artillery could be heard in front, and a staff officer was sent to find out the meaning of it.

Enfeebled by pain, I used an ambulance to husband my little strength for emergencies; and I think it was here that General Wade Hampton, accompanied by Senator Wigfall, came up to me. Hampton had been promoted to brigadier for gallantry at Mana.s.sas, where he was wounded, but not yet a.s.signed to a command. Wigfall had left the army to take a seat in the Confederate Congress as Senator from Texas, and from him I learned that he was in hopes some brigadier would be killed to make a place for Hampton, to whom, as volunteer aide, he proposed to attach himself and see the fun. Finding me extended in an ambulance, he doubtless thought he had met his opportunity, and felt aggrieved that I was not _in extremis_. Hampton took command of a brigade in Jackson's old division the next day, and perhaps his friend Wigfall enjoyed himself at Malvern Hill.

The staff officer returned from the front and reported the situation.

D.H. Hill's division was at White Oak Swamp Creek, a slough, and one of "despond" to us, draining to the Chickahominy. The enemy held the high ground beyond, and artillery fire was continuous, but no infantry was engaged. There was no change until nightfall, when we bivouacked where we were. Our loss, _one_ artilleryman mortally wounded, proved that no serious effort to pa.s.s the slough was made; yet a prize was in reach worth the loss of thousands. While we were idly sh.e.l.ling the wood, behind which lay Franklin's corps--the right of McClellan's army--scarce a rifle shot to the southwest, but concealed by intervening forest, Longstreet and A.P. Hill were fighting the b.l.o.o.d.y engagement of Frazier's Farm with Heintzelman and McCall, the Federal center and left.

Again, fractions against ma.s.ses; for of the two divisions expected to support them, Magruder's and Huger's, the latter did not get up, and the former was taken off by a misleading message from Holmes, who, from the south bank of the James, had reached the Newmarket road a day later than was intended. Longstreet and Hill fought into the night, held a large part of the field, and captured many prisoners (including General McCall) and guns, but their own loss was severe. After the action, Franklin quietly pa.s.sed within a few yards of them, joined Heintzelman, and with him gained Malvern Hill, which McClellan had fortified during the day, employing for the purpose the commands of Keyes and Porter.

On the succeeding morning (July 1), Jackson followed the enemy's track from White Oak Swamp Creek toward Malvern Hill, pa.s.sing the field of Frazier's Farm, and Magruder's division, which had arrived in the night and relieved the exhausted commands of Longstreet and Hill.

Malvern Hill was a desperate position to attack in front, though, like Cold Harbor, it could be turned on the right. Here McClellan was posted with his whole force. His right was covered by Turkey Creek, an affluent of the James; his left was near that river and protected by gunboats, which, though hidden by timber, threw sh.e.l.ls across his entire front.