Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

When we reached our position along a wide and deep ravine, it was almost dark and objects at some distance could only be distinguished with difficulty. An irresolute fire was opened upon us from the opposite side of the ravine, to which we immediately replied, although all we could see of the foe were the flashes of their guns, which stopped in about ten minutes after which we received the command to cease firing. Half a dozen were wounded in this short engagement, but none killed. We remained silent in our position, awaiting a possible attack, hearing very plainly some of the commands given by the Rebel officers on the opposite side of the dark ravine. From the ravine itself, we heard groans and cries of wounded men who were evidently Rebels, for one among them, probably an officer, in his delirium sometimes cried out, "Charge, Ninth Georgia!"

The firing on other parts of the line of battle did not cease entirely for an hour or more, and then the enemy seemed to have retired, leaving us completely victorious. I think it must have been much later than ten o'clock, when the word was quietly passed along the ranks to quit our position and creep back as silently as possible. I did this a part of the way, then went the rest of the distance in a crouching position, until we were halted and re-formed our line. Then we marched a little farther, halted again, and sat on the ground, resting and wondering what these movements meant.

Later, the first sergeant of my company called me and conducted me to the adjutant, who ordered me to make my way to the Malvern house, where one of our lieutenants and a company of our men had been left as a guard at the general hospital, and to inform the officer to hold himself and his men in readiness to rejoin the regiment when it passed during the night or morning. Since we were in the field I had been selected several times for special duties, but I did not like this one in the least. I knew the general direction of the Malvern house, whence we had come, and if I could gain the Quaker Road the rest would be easy. But to reach this road it was necessary to cross some fields and a piece of woods, and it struck me I had a good chance of being shot by some picket, or getting lost and being taken prisoner.

The sky was overcast and the night dark. I made my way cautiously towards the woods and just before reaching them passed over an elevated piece of ground, where evidently one of our batteries had been stationed during the day. I inferred this from a number of dead horses, some with their stiffened legs up in the air, and among them a few dark forms which I knew but too well were the bodies of artillerists. I hurried over this place and gained the edge of the woods—which I dreaded the most on account of pickets, but was not challenged. I halted a moment and listened, thinking I heard the clatter of accoutrements and the heavy tramp of marching men. I knew that this could only be some of our army and felt much relieved.

Presently I was among them on the Quaker Road, for the woods proved to be shallow. These soldiers belonged to another corps and were retreating very reluctantly toward the James river. There was much grumbling among them; they wondered why, after a victory and with a retiring enemy, they were ordered to leave a strong position. We learned later that some of the corps commanders had importuned General McClellan to hold Malvern Hill, but the General ruled against it, giving as his reason the difficulty of supplying the army in that location.

I reached the Malvern house a little before midnight and found a sentinel who directed me to the lieutenant in charge. He was fast asleep. I awakened him and repeated the adjutant's orders. He ordered some of the men to watch the road near the corner of the house and notify him when the regiment appeared. On looking around I saw that the house was brightly lighted and there was much commotion caused by officers and orderlies rushing in and out of General Porter's headquarters; it was also the principal hospital, and in the out-buildings and some tents I could see surgeons attending the wounded and performing amputations by candle-light, while the ground back of the house was covered with wounded soldiers.

I did not tarry long to look at this heart-rending scene, but made my way along the front of the house and the out-houses. I was hungry and was looking around to find something to eat. My haversack was almost empty; and I knew the necessity of saving something for the morrow, as we were not likely to get any rations until we came to our supply trains. As we had not been able to make coffee for some days, I had plenty of that and sugar, but I had no meat and only a few crackers, so I prowled around until I observed a half dozen soldiers near the corner of a fence where there was a heap of boxes and barrels, which proved to be commissary stores left unguarded and probably forgotten. I joined the group and found them dipping their tin cups into a barrel, of which they had knocked in the head, and filling their canteens with what I knew from the odor to be whiskey. This seemed a heaven-sent opportunity and one not to be neglected. I emptied my canteen of water and filled it with whiskey. Some boxes of hard-tack had been opened, from which I filled my haversack. There were still some barrels of whiskey, also barrels of pork, which the group decided it would be unsafe to break open on account of the noise it would make. I dipped my quart cup into the barrel once more and hurried away with it in my hand, returning to the guard with whom I shared its contents. I kept silent regarding my canteen, however. I did not dare tell my comrades where I got the liquor, for fear some of them would become intoxicated; so I was forced to invent a tale of having received it from one of the hospital stewards, who was a friend of mine. I took especial care to guard my canteen with its precious contents, then wrapped myself in my blanket and went to sleep among my comrades.

I was awakened at daylight when our brigade approached. We hurried to the road and waited until the regiment came along, then joined its ranks. Sykes's division was again covering the retreat of the army. The First Brigade, under Colonel Buchannan, formed the rear guard while our brigade immediately preceded them. It was storming, as it generally did after a battle, and the rain soon came down in torrents, wetting us to the skin in a few minutes. It was a cold, chilly rain which lasted all day.

The army had been retreating from a defeated enemy on this road all night, again leaving many of our wounded behind. By the time we reached Haxall's and the bottom-lands, we found the road in a frightful condition. Cut up as it had been by thousands of wagons and artillery, it was now a liquid quagmire from the torrential rain. We tore down fences and crossed fields to avoid some impassable places. We waded through many ditches and small streams, often knee-deep, and had many halts and interruptions, often coming to a halt in a part of the road where it was impossible to sit down for a much-needed rest, unless we should sit in mud nearly a foot deep. My shoes were soon filled with gritty liquid mud which chafed the skin and made marching very painful and distressing. At one time I just saved myself from falling, while crossing a stream, and my rifle slipped from my grasp and was submerged in the muddy water. I doubt if I could have discharged it if I had needed to do so.

I cannot describe our misery and suffering on this day, the seventh of the retreat, and by far the worst of all. We had reached the limit of endurance, weakened as we were by battles, marching and want of food. We had become callous and cared little what became of those who dropped out from exhaustion or of small squads of wounded men who were limping painfully along the road, sometimes being knocked down and crying out in anguish for help. The rule of self-preservation had a deplorable demonstration on this awful day.