In my narration of events which occurred during McClellan's Peninsular Campaign I have tried to describe in detail a soldier's experience in camp, on the march, in battle and when retreating before a pursuing foe, as accurately as my memory permits after an interval of more than fifty years. I consider that campaign unsurpassed in hardship, suffering and endurance by any subsequent campaign while I was in the Army of the Potomac, unless perhaps it be the battle of Fredericksburg and General Burnside's "Mud-March," both of which occurred in winter time. I therefore deem it superfluous to burden the remainder of my narrative with similar details.
PART XI.
Harrison's Landing to Fredericksburg, Va.—1862-1863.
The part of the camp at Harrison's Landing occupied by our brigade was, I think, the most unhealthy spot in which I had ever camped. The weather had become intensely hot and water fit to drink was difficult to obtain from a poor spring, at which crowds stood in line waiting for a chance to fill their canteens. The water of the boggy creek was soon contaminated and the sinking of barrels and cracker boxes at its edge had but little effect in purifying it. Nearly a third of our men were soon sick with miasma and swamp fever; the hospitals were over-crowded and the mortality high. Every morning and evening we heard the dead march.
Our second day in this camp was the Fourth of July, and General McClellan caused a salute to be fired at noon at each army corps headquarters. In the afternoon he reviewed us and his address to the Army of the Potomac was read to us on parade. A few days later President Lincoln visited the camp and held a review in the cool of the evening. He was enthusiastically cheered.
About this time I became very ill and had to report to the regimental surgeon, who wanted to send me to the hospital; but I did not want to go there among so many sick and dying men and remained for a few days in my tent, over which we had built an arbor, which was of little use, however, as the camp was exposed to the torrid sun. I became very weak. A kind comrade assisted me from camp to the creek, about a hundred yards away, where he spread my blanket and I lay there under the shade of a tree all day, until he helped me back to camp at night. It was better than remaining in the little shelter tent; but I was so miserable that I cared very little whether I lived or died.
The sick and wounded of the volunteers had a "sanitary commission," supported by the various states, which furnished nurses, supplies and delicacies that the army could not provide. The regulars, when in their own hospitals, received no such attention; they had to get along on soldiers' rations, if they could eat them. At this camp we had company cooks. My comrade brought me rice soup from our kitchen, and on that and some soft crackers and condensed milk, bought at the sutler's, I managed to keep alive. In about ten days I began to improve, but was greatly emaciated, and it was well towards the end of July before I could take my place in the ranks again.
One of our first lieutenants and two second lieutenants, all civilian appointees, who had not shown themselves at any of the recent battles the regiment had been engaged in, turned up at Harrison's Landing and were promptly arrested. They were tried by court-martial and cashiered on July twenty-first, 1862. I believe two of them succeeded in getting back into the army early in 1863, and one—the first lieutenant—redeemed himself by being killed at Gettysburg. I shall not mention the names of these valiant officers; they are recorded in the official Army Register of 1862-'63.
We had been in camp about a week when we were surprised by the reappearance of the captain of our company, whom we had left in Georgetown four months before with a medical excuse from field duty. He was more corpulent and his face was more florid than ever. He brought with him some cases, containing a variety of liquors, which he charged his servant to guard very carefully when he was absent from his tent—which was seldom, as he performed no duties. Few of our officers paid any attention to him or visited him in his tent, with the exception of the three lieutenants under arrest; they were his chums and boon companions from morning till night. My tent was within ear-shot of the captain's and when I lay there while sick or convalescent I could not help hearing their loud talk while they were carousing—a daily occurrence. They fought the seven days' battles all over again, the captain bewailing the ill health which had kept him from the active service which he so ardently desired. Had he been in charge of the brigade he would have formed an oblique square and in that form he would have charged upon the enemy at a double-quick. He demonstrated to the entire satisfaction of his auditors that the impact of the sharp corner of the oblique square could not have failed to break the enemy's center, while the two sides of the square would have brushed away their right and left wings and caused them to be annihilated by our fire. He admitted that such a bold movement could be successfully executed only with reliable troops like the regulars, if led by an officer who was a tactician able to conceive such a daring attack. At times the officers under arrest became maudlin and with tearful voices lamented their hard luck in being under arrest, when the captain would cheer them by saying, "Gentlemen, I know you are all brave men; trust in me, I will see you vindicated! What will you take now?"
This went on until the three officers were cashiered and left camp.
One night soon after the Rebels shelled the camp at Harrison's Landing and there were rumors of another advance on Richmond. The captain hastily departed with bag and baggage, leaving only the empty cases behind. This time we were rid of him for good; he was retired for disability(!) August twenty-seventh, 1862, and we never saw him again. John S. Poland now became captain of my company. He had been graduated from the West Point Military Academy and was a very efficient officer. The departure of our captain, the dismissal of the three lieutenants, a few transfers and some promotions from the ranks, left us with a better lot of officers—men whom the rank and file could respect.