Chapter 37:
- The pursuit of McClellan continued -- where is old Jackson? -- the Federal troops kept in ignorance of their retreat -- use of Federal cavalry -- the Seventh New -- York -- battle of Malvern Hill -- desperate engagement, July first -- reckless sacrifice of life by Magruder -- gallantry of Colonel Norman -- the enemy, fully routed and demoralized, seek protection under their gunboats.
Wearied beyond all expression by the continual marching and fighting of the past week, I procured a bundle of hay and a few handfuls of corn for my jaded horse, and throwing myself down on a heap of straw beneath the pines, sought some little rest. The continual movement of troops, however, through the night, passing and repassing by a single road within a few feet of me, disturbed my slumber, and half asleep or awake, I heard all kinds of voices and noises around me. Huger's division had at last arrived somewhere in the neighborhood. Jackson's, Longstreet's, and other divisions were distributed in every direction through the neighboring woods, and it was difficult to ascertain in what order; for, having left my horse for five minutes to drink a cup of “rye coffee,” kindly proffered by an aide, I was nearly an hour in finding again the much coveted bed of straw. First, I found myself among Magruder's men; next, I turned down the road a few yards, and found myself in Whiting's division, and, strange as it may seem, I had hunted among nearly all the divisions of the army ere I found my voracious horse, which had eaten up all my bedding.
Unstrapping a blanket, I threw myself among leaves and branches upon the sand, and did every thing I could imagine to court sleep; but just as my eyes closed, some. one would shove me and inquire: “Where is Lee's Headquarters?” “Is this Longstreet's division?” and so on. At other times, I suddenly awoke and found some one mounting my horse in mistake for his own; then, again, loud reports of musketry in [367] front awoke all, and brought us suddenly to our feet. At length, in despair, I rode down to a brook, watered my horse, washed my face, and stood, with bridle in hand, dozing against a tree until morning broke.
More asleep than awake, duties called me in various directions, and the universal bustle indicated that a general engagement was anticipated. Infantry were busy cleaning arms, field officers stood aloof in groups, conversing; generals and staffs moved to and fro, while couriers were everywhere inquiring for Jackson, Longstreet, Hill, Magruder, and all the generals in the army. None could tell where these officers were. A few moments before, such an one was seen passing up the road, another down, but where they were at any particular time the best informed could not pretend to tell. In and out of the woods, they were moving incessantly. “Where is old Jackson, I wonder?” petulantly inquired a dusty courier, with his horse in a foam; “I wish to heaven these generals would have some fixed spot where they might be found; but the devil of it is, old Jackson is always moving about. I think he even walks in his sleep, or never sleeps at all, for here have I been hunting him for the past hour.” Every body in the group laughed, except one seedy, oldish-looking officer, intently listening to the picket-firing in front, whom nobody thought to be more than some old major or other. “Here is Jackson, young man,” said the officer, turning quietly, without a muscle moving. “Return to your post, sir,” said he; “this paper requires no answer.” And he put it in his pocket, and trotted off as unconcerned as if nothing had happened. “Who would have thought that was he?” we all exclaimed. “Oh! 'tis just like him,” said one; “I have known him to dismount and help artillery out of the mud for half an hour at a time, and ride off again without being discovered. He is always poking about in out-of-the-way places: not unfrequently he rides unattended to distant outposts at night, and converses with the pickets about the movements of the enemy, and without more ceremony than you just now saw exhibited. It is his continual industry and sleeplessness that have routed Banks, Shields, and others in the Valley. He is continually moving himself, and expects all under him to be animated by the same solicitude and watchfulness.” [368] It was now past seven A. M., and our advanced guard had been on the move some time, but without discovering the slightest clue to the whereabouts of McClellan and his army. It was conjectured that he had been travelling Mall night through the swamp to reach his gunboats at the river, but in which direction none could imagine. Our troops occupied all the main avenues of his retreat, yet no signs were visible of the route pursued by him. There was but one road left open to him, and that was merely a wagon-track through dense timber, where it was considered improbable any of his forces would pass, although it was far nearer to the river. With troops on three sides of him, it was thought he might make a desperate stand, once again, and endeavor to turn the fortune of war. He was somewhere in this irregular, marshy, swampy, and densely-timbered country, but at what precise point none could imagine.
We had captured many laggards of his army, but they were unable to give the slightest intimation of his route. All they knew was, that his rear was heavily guarded by artillery and cavalry, the latter having orders to shoot any who broke ranks and lagged behind. The teams had gone far ahead, escorted by horsemen, and many drivers had been shot on the spot for unruly behavior. Thousands of the army were ragged, torn, and wounded; but were encouraged by McClellan, who said “he had the rebels, now, just where he wanted them, and should be able to take Richmond much more speedily than before.” They did not believe him, nor did any of the army; the immense crowds of dead and wounded, and their hasty retreat, told too plainly that they were badly whipped, and had better make for their gunboats as speedily as possible. A few hours before the battle of Frazier's Farm, McClellan, they informed us, had addressed the troops there with visible emotion; he besought his men to cheer up, and not be discouraged-begged all, in the name of God, not to disgrace themselves again, but fight manfully for the Union and the old flag! He was confident of whipping us-he had all things “cut and dried” for our destruction at Frazier's, and wag going to attack us with fresh troops, and annihilate our first division before others came up. His position was much higher than ours; the [369] artillery excellently placed, etc.; and he passionately begged the men to stand to their arms, for he intended to destroy us, and push on to Richmond. These prisoners told a doleful tale of affairs since the fight opened at the Branch turnpike on Thursday afternoon. The rank and file knew nothing of Jackson's approach in the direction of Hanover Court-House; but the officers knew: and when asked what the immense destruction of stores meant along the line, they answered ambiguously, spoke of a probable “change of base,” “clearing of the rear,” and of a speedy “march to Richmond.” When Porter's right wing was driven out of Mechanicsville, Ellison's Mills, and Beaver Dam Creek, McClellan laughed, and said he was only “drawing the rebels on to destruction” at Gaines's Mills; and when the whole of the right and part of the centre were driven thence, he said that now the rebels were fairly caught in his toils, he had gotten us all on the north bank, and was going to hurl his strength at our right, feeble as it was, and capture Richmond in one day, before we had time to re-cross and oppose him.
This was all believed by the multitude, who relied implicitly on his word, until the heavy wagon-trains of Porter and other generals began moving towards the James River on Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday, and the torch was applied to their stores. When, added to this, our advance moved down the railroad, and routed their chosen rear-guard at “Savage station” and other places, then the men began to think McClellan was fooling them, and that “on to Richmond” was a hoax! The consequence of this conviction spreading among the troops may be imagined. There were heavy forces stationed at Frazier's to retard our advance, and McCall, Heintzelman, and others, thinking them sufficient, McClellan and the rest pushed forward into the swamp; but when these generals were defeated, McClellan, fearful for the safety of the remainder, detached a whole corps at nine P. M. to arrest our further advance. Their troops, these prisoners informed us, had been on the move night and day since Thursday: the entire army was demoralized, and only kept under subjection by large forces of artillery and cavalry hovering in the rear. The cavalry were of no use they said, only to intimidate the infantry, and were always stationed in the rear during a fight, to cut and shoot any [370] who lagged behind or broke into disorder, allowing no one to pass from the field unless wounded I Here was a sad picture! Cavalry employed to force their infantry to the front! That this is true, is verified by scores, and I myself have seen their cavalry cut and thrust among them when routed, disordered, and unwilling to advance, particularly when our picket-posts were skirmishing in the vicinity of Munson's Hill and Arlington, during the month of September, 1861.
Foot-sore, jaded, ragged, and oftentimes wounded, long files of prisoners passed us during the morning, feeling heartily glad to have fallen into our hands. Many sat by the roadside, chatting intelligently of the course of events ; one and all agreed that it was now impossible to surround McClellan, for he was near his transports, and had a large flotilla of gunboats, with ports open and ready to bombard our army, should we approach too near. Had we but possessed gunboats on the river, we might have achieved wonders; but destitute of this arm, we could only follow as far as practicable, and do our best. From an officer among the prisoners, I heard an incident related, which may be considered worthy of remembrance.
In April, 1861, when General Scott made a great fuss in the papers about the peril of Washington, among the first to volunteer their services was the celebrated Seventh regiment of New-York City--a corps that was the pet of the whole country, being, perhaps, better drilled than any other volunteer regiment in the world. They mustered about eight hundred bayonets; had four or five fancy suits; the best of arms; the best blood of New-York was enrolled in their rank and file-in short, the men of this regiment were dandies and “exclusives.” They had a pretty drum corps of forty drummers, and a splendid mixed band of seventy silver and reed instruments; and when they thought proper to parade, the whole city was on tiptoe with curiosity. Upon their arrival at Washington, and during the entire journey, artists of illustrated sheets were ever on the spot ready with pencil in hand to sketch the most insignificant event. When at the capital, these carpet knights refused to cross the Potomac for active service, and soon returned to New-York with flying banners, as if returning from [371] conquest. Then came the time when Banks's army, routed by Jackson at Front Royal, rushed in disordered masses to Washington, and again the cry was raised of “the Capitol in danger,” and the “gallant Seventh” volunteered to go to its defence a second time. This time they found a master in McClellan, who unceremoniously marched them to his lines in front of Richmond! In a few days the “week's campaign” opened, and the first fight in which they participated was at Frazier's Farm, where they left hundreds of bodies and knapsacks behind them! I had seen scores of our men with knapsacks, on which was painted “Fifteenth Massachusetts,” “Twelfth New-York,” “Twentieth Rhode Island,” “Seventh New-York,” etc., but it never occurred to me that this was the Seventh New-York whose fine appearance in Broadway and in Washington, on festal occasions, was the everlasting theme of reporters, and the envy of every other military organization in the States. In looking at the number of dead bodies scattered far and wide, I could not but meditate on the havoc which our dusty, ragged, and powder-stained Southerners had made in this, the finest regiment of the North!
From the uncertainty that prevailed regarding McClellan's force, position, and intentions, it was dangerous to push on the advance rapidly. Magruder therefore moved his division cautiously through the woods and along the wretched lanes, expecting to find the Federals drawn up in every open space we came across. A strong body of skirmishers, supported by a few pieces of artillery, followed the advance of the cavalry, who diligently reconnoitred every wood ere the main body followed, At a tortuous gait, regiment after regiment filed past Frazier's towards the south-east, in the direction of the river, halting incessantly, while artillery shelled the woods; feeling about in a wide expanse of timbered swamp for the ubiquitous McClellan and his “Grand army of the Potomac.” He could be found nowhere, and some began to imagine that he had effected an inglorious flight to James River, there to embark for parts unknown. The First North-Carolina cavalry--or rather what remained of that gallant regiment — was ordered to the front, and had lively recollections of the enemy's uncivil greeting at Frazier's Farm early on Sunday morning. They [372] galloped forward gaily, however, at the bugle-call, and dashed off down the lane on a scout, north of where McClellan was supposed to be. All listened attentively for distant firing, and about one P. M., shots were rapidly exchanged to the south-east, towards the river, in the neighborhood of Carter's farm, about two miles distant. After a tedious advance of more than four hours, beating about through the timber, in this rugged, thickly-timbered swamp, the enemy were at last found, admirably posted in strong force I The advance was now taken up with spirit; the men seemed delighted. It was thought that. Holmes's division might still succeed in flanking the enemy near the river, and get in their rear. Jackson was on their left flank, and Longstreet close up on the right, Magruder being the centre; all our troops, consequently, were within a radius of ten miles, the wings gradually converging to a point. McClellan's only outlet was the river, where he had the advantage of his gunboats and transports. But it must be remembered that the ground towards the river was undulating, and rising far above the ordinary level in that vicinity, was admirable for defence. In fact, it was discovered that the enemy were strongly posted on Malvern Hill, (near the river;) and all approach, for more than a mile, being through open, undulating fields on Carter's farm, they had an unbroken view of our advance from the timber, and could sweep us at leisure with more than fifty pieces of different calibres! Woods to our rear, left, and right-open fields to the front gradually rising for half a mile; a plateau of six hundred yards still beyond; while farther still, commanding all approach, rose abruptly Malvern Hill, on and around which were massed their heaviest artillery.1
The reader may imagine our own situation compared with this admirably selected position, and the desperate work intrusted to us. It was McClellan's last stand, and there was every indication that he meant to defend it to the last extremity, as a means of protecting his further retreat to the river. The incessant cannonade from Curl's Neck, and the [373] untiring energy of the gunboats, rendered it impossible for Holmes to flank him, or get in the rear; while the absence of roads to our front, right, and left, prevented a vigorous advance in those quarters. Forming in the woods, however, our infantry advanced, and soon disposed of the Federal outposts, for they ran at the first fire, and many surrendered. While feeling our way in the timber, to the right and left of McClellan's formidable position, we were opposed by heavy bodies of infantry; but from their feeble style of fighting it was evident they were ordered to fall back gradually, so as to entice us into the open fields, where their artillery could play with effect. Our generals in front seeing the intention, halted their forces in the edge of the timber, and consulting with Magruder, explained the true posture of affairs. It was evident the enemy would not trust their infantry; and for us to succeed with them it was absolutely necessary for a heavy force of artillery to move up and cover any further advance.
It was now past four P. M., and if any thing was to be attempted the work must be quick and desperate! The artillery could not get up in time; hence, trusting to the impetuous valor of his troops, Magruder insisted upon charging the position, no matter what might be the cost! Cobb and others endeavored to explain, and invited Magruder to visit the scene! There was a run of more than six hundred yards up a rising ground, an unbroken flat beyond of several hundred yards, one hundred pieces of cannon behind breastworks, and heavy masses of infantry in support! Arguments were unavailing-Magruder was General, and ordered it-he was the only one responsible! Let the men advance and charge! Was he tipsy? I know not, though common report avows he was; and passing, I wondered whether he had returned to his old habits at such an important moment, to frustrate all our designs by passion and intoxication! Hundreds are willing to swear that he was unfit to command on that day, and complaints were afterwards made to the War Department regarding him. But to the battle.
Cobb was unwilling to slaughter his brigade, and told Magruder so, but added: “If you command me to go, I will charge until my last man falls!” He was commanded. Gathering his devoted Georgians and Louisianians around him, he [374] explained the situation, and moved forward, with the promise of ample reenforcements. On the edge of the timber Cobb was exhausted, and gave over the command to Colonel Norman, of the Second Louisiana. Creeping through the woods as far as practicable, Norman deployed the brigade in open ground, and rushed up to the plateau at the “double-quick.” Directly this gallant command arrived in full view, a flash of light gleamed from the woods and hill in front, belching forth shell, canister, and grape in their midst; and the aim being accurate, scores of our men fell at every discharge. Heroically riding to the front, the intrepid Norman coolly gave commands in a clear, calm voice; his devoted companions closing up their shattered ranks, advanced with yells of defiance, and under the storm of fifty pieces, and thousands of rifles to their rear, young Norman advanced with colors flying to within a hundred yards of the guns, and there halted. With clothes all tattered, hatless, sabre in hand, this heroic Louisianian turned in his saddle, ordered his men to lie down, and anxiously looked back for the promised reenforcements. Woods to his rear, dark and silent, gave no sign of their approach; yet singly and alone, before heaven and earth, this man of steel held the ground, and though his command was momentarily wasting like snow, encouraged his veterans, re-formed the line, and yelled defiance at the masses of infantry who hovered near, but dared not approach. For more than twenty minutes Norman held his ground; but finding half the command lying dead, he gathered all that remained in compact order, and filed obliquely to the woods. But here he breathed his last. The Federals had sent through the timber a brigade to cut off his retreat. Our men, exasperated by their losses, gave a loud shout, and assailed them with such fury, that they broke and fled after a fight of ten minutes, leaving the remnant of this command to retire to the rear, to mourn the loss of hundreds, who, like Norman, fell, sabre in. hand, with their face to the enemy.
Wright's brigade was also sent forward, but met with a similar fate. It seemed as if Magruder was intent on killing his men by detachments, for there seemed to be no settled plan of action; and instead of rapidly pushing forward reenforcements to succor those in front, the unfortunate [375] commanders were compelled to stand before the enemy's pieces, without support, until decimated, and then retire as formerly. Several brigades at different times were hurled against this position, but with like success. Some advanced farther than others, and our dead were numerous under the cannon's mouth; but after running for a mile under a murderous fire, they lacked the strength to climb breastworks in the face of masses of the enemy. The Mississippi and some other brigades actually drove the enemy from the guns; but they were met by overwhelming numbers, who had rested all day in the shade, and had not been subjected to many hours' hard marching and fighting. To add to the horrors of the scene, and the immense slaughter in front of this tremendous battery, the gunboats increased the rapidity of their broadsides, and the immense missiles coursed through the air with great noise, tearing off the tree-tops and bursting with loud explosions.
It was now dark, and little could be done. We were gradually approaching McClellan's wings, and he considered it expedient to retire his infantry, leaving the work to be done by his artillery. By this time several of our pieces had been moved up to the front, and two companies of the Washington Artillery did great service in silencing some of the enemy's guns. Why those companies were not ordered up before, to cover our attack, may be explained, perhaps, by some future historian. All I know is, that curses were on every lip against Magruder, and from men whose position warrants me in thinking they had solid reasons for their angry vituperation. All I dare say now is, that I never heard a mortal man so despised and execrated among all classes of military men; and when the amount of carnage is considered, of which he was the occasion, it would seem that their violent language was excusable, for under those guns lay dead, that night, hundreds of the best and worthiest men the South ever produced — a bleeding, mangled monument, illustrative of the ignorance, stupidity, or drunkenness of one petted and flattered for talents he seldom exhibits.
As soon as darkness permitted, the enemy silently retreated Prom their position, and it was well they did so, for troops were gradually encircling, and would have captured them, [376] ere the rising of the sun. Still eager for fight, our advance crept closer and closer, and during the night made a rush upon their infantry, and took the place, together with many prisoners, small arms, and several guns; but it must be admitted that the great mass of their forces had silently withdrawn into the swamp, none knew whither. Such a spectacle as the scene presented on this memorable hill none who saw it will ever forget. The dead, wounded, and dying of all regiments were scattered about in mangled heaps, for more than a mile, while around and underneath the guns, majors, captains, colonels, and dozens of our men were seen just as they had fallen, sabre in hand, and with face to the enemy! Many were headless — the swords of some broken ; and leaning over one of the captured pieces was a young officer, who, I thought, was simply resting; on closer inspection I found him to be lifeless; he had died as he had stood, hatless, revolver and sword in hand! Truly, our loss at this place was horrible; the best brigades in the service-regiments which had acquired historic fame — were cut up unnecessarily, in the attempt to carry the place, unassisted by artillery.
Inside the battery sights as ghastly met the view. The few cannon which had been brought up towards the close of the day, did great execution among the masses drawn up here, and scores seemed to have fallen from the accuracy of our fire. A wounded Federal officer, whom I assisted, told me that all that was needed in our first assault was fresh troops to follow up the movement, for on more than one occasion the Federals rushed out from the batteries, and could not be induced to return. In several instances, indeed, our troops got in between the guns, and had cleared them, but the want of timely reenforcements defeated our plans. Several prisoners said it was downright madness in our generals to attack in the manner they did, and their gunners seemed to pity the immense sacrifice to which we had been exposed. Could not Lee have assumed command at this point when things were evidently going wrong? Undoubtedly; “but then,” say some, “it would not have been ‘ in form’ to take command from a major-general, and pretend to instruct him on the field.” True, a general is supposed to know his business; but no sane person would argue that [377] thousands of men must be sacrificed in his experiments if he has yet to learn the art of war. It is enough that men volunteer for the cause, and are willing to die, in the legitimate prosecution of warfare. I know of no rule that requires a commander-in-chief to remain quiet, merely from “professional delicacy,” when subordinates are acting against the best counsel of those in front — contrary to the knowledge of men who have thoroughly reconnoitred the ground, and in defiance of all considerations arising from the strength of the enemy's position. If such is the result of that “professional delicacy” one commander bears another, the sooner it is abolished the better for thousands of brave patriots, who blindly believe that the talents of their commanders are commensurate with the position they hold.2
It is true, Malvern Hill was ours, but at a cost which the capture of that formidable position could never repay; for I am certain thousands were unnecessarily slaughtered, and that had the advance been commanded by Longstreet, Jackson, or the Hills, not one half the carnage would have ensued. Although Magruder did eventually enter the work, it added nothing to his merit, but, if any thing, detracted from the little reputation he had gained at Bethel, at the expense of D. H. Hill. With such a magnificent command as was intrusted to him, Magruder might have rendered his name for ever illustrious; but from the moment that he commenced his advance [378] down the railroad on Sunday afternoon until this miserable sacrifice of life at Malvern Hill,--he did naught but fume, and fret, and quarrel with the best officers under him; and his commands were sometimes so contradictory that those of his own staff could not comprehend or deliver them intelligibly to brigadiers or colonels. In a word, he acted as a man usually does when he is out of his proper sphere. As an engineer and artillerist there are few to surpass him, but intrust “planning” to him, and he fails. He can “execute” with vigor what Lee or Jackson are well fitted to plan, nothing more.
When it was discovered that McClellan had again retired, and was in full retreat, Lee instantly recommenced the advance, although it rained in floods. But the Federals seemed to have vanished once more in this densely-timbered swamp. The outposts saw no signs of them, and most of the day was lost before it was ascertained whither McClellan had fled. Towards night it was discovered he had conducted his whole force by a narrow road through a thick swampy wood, several miles in extent, and was safe under his gunboats at Harrison's Landing, having occupied the neighboring hills and strongly fortified them! Our advance to his position could be made but by one road that which he had traversed-and, as it was very narrow and swept by numerous artillery, pursuit was impossible. Some of our cavalry, who penetrated several miles through the swamp, captured a few prisoners in the bushes, and from them we learned the story of their last march and escape.
Malvern Hill was ordered to be defended to the last extremity, as that position alone insured the safety of the Federal army. Several parts of the hill were vacated, when our brigades impetuously advanced to the assault, but observing that single brigades were unsupported, the enemy returned. All were in breathless suspense; for had we captured it early in the day, McClellan's army were in full view retiring rapidly towards the river, and could be shelled at discretion. When night fell, their retreat was taken up in earnest-our men were on three sides of them-and the greatest quietness prevailed, for it was thought the discharge of a single musket would have revealed their passage through the dense timber. Along this narrow road, then, the whole army had rapidly retired, and as [379] the dead and wounded were an incumbrance at such a juncture, thousands were left behind to the mercy of the rebels I Wagons, stores, hospitals, guns-dismounted and not — were unheeded, and left in great number; while hundreds of foot-sore, lame, and exhausted men were picked up in every field. I myself saw not less than several squads of twenty or more coming to meet us,when our advance cavalry approached; while every house, barn, bush, or sheltering wood, contained hundreds of sick and wounded. The enemy's march through this narrow lane is represented to have been rapid-regiments mixed with regiments, men of all corps hurried along in great anxiety, ragged, weary, dirty, armed and unarmed, and perfectly dispirited. They were thoroughly beaten, and had the retreat lasted but a day or two longer, or had we overtaken and engaged them in any open space, they could not have stood an hour; in fact, they were so completely demoralized that all their anxiety was to reach the river, towards which they rushed in tremendous haste. Nor were hundreds satisfied when reaching the river; for, forgetful of discipline and all things else in a desire to remove far from danger, they seized the boats and hurried to the opposite banks, or to the various islands of the James. These latter were subsequently taken off by their own boats, but Confederate detachments on the south bank captured the former, who were immediately sent to the tobacco-warehouses of Richmond.
