Already, by Porter's retreat, the brave fellows in Liberty Hall Hospital, mangled and sick, groaning with wounds, and delirious with fevers, were abandoned, deserted, to fall into the hands of an enemy known to be merciless.
And now the siege of Richmond was to be abandoned, and the men who but two days before had exulted in the glad hope of a speedy entrance into the city, which even now lay just within our grasp, were to turn their backs as fugitives before their enemies! It was a time of humiliation and sorrow. Every man was weighed down with a terrible anxiety. Officers hurried to and fro, silently and hastily forwarding the preparations for the retreat. The great caravan of army trains was on its way under the direction of scores of officers, and with it were escorts of cavalry and infantry.
At three o'clock Sunday morning the 29th, the Sixth corps quietly evacuated its works and proceeded in the direction of Savage's Station. The men slung their knapsacks and quietly moved off. A scene of desolation met their view as they passed along. Tents cut to pieces, commissary stores thrown upon the ground or burning in heaps, blankets and clothing piled promiscuously about, not considered worth carrying away; all indicating a retreat under most disastrous circumstances.
We had been preceded by Keyes' corps, which had started at noon the day before, crossed White Oak creek and occupied the opposite side, acting as advance guard for our long trains which were now making all haste toward the James river.
The endless streams of army wagons, artillery trains and ambulances were all pouring down the roads from the various camps, and crowding into the narrow paths that led to the opposite side of the Peninsula. Porter's infantry mingled with the trains, and thousands of cattle driven along through the woods by the roadside made a strange scene. Franklin's, Sumner's and Heintzelman's corps were to guard the rear, and it was with secrecy that we had left the rifle pits; for the enemy was close upon us ready to take advantage of every movement. A picket guard was left to deceive the rebels, while regiment after regiment silently disappeared, leaving only the pickets to hold the long line of earthworks. These brave men waited hour after hour for the signal to retire. The gray lights of the morning broke upon them, yet there was no sign for them to join their commands. At length, when they had given up all hope of being relieved, they were signaled to leave the breastworks, and under cover of the morning mists, they quickly joined their comrades.
The Second division moved in the direction of Savage's Station, while the First kept on to the crossing of White Oak Swamp, acting as rear-guard to Porter's corps. We of the Second division kept along the high lands which skirt the Chickahominy, when, after marching about two miles, the division was brought to bay by the pursuing enemy. Facing about we waited in line of battle for our trains to get out of the way; when we again resumed the retreat. While here, General McClellan, with his immense staff, rode by us on his way toward Harrison's Landing. He passed White Oak Swamp the same day, and waited the arrival of the army; which, hindered by battles and innumerable difficulties, did not come up with its commander again till the 1st of July.
We arrived at Savage's Station at 4 P.M. Here trains and troops were crowded together in wonderful confusion. Immense heaps of commissary stores, arms and ammunition were waiting destruction lest they should fall into the hands of the enemy, and hundreds of sick and wounded men were taking sad leave of their friends; for it had been determined that these brave unfortunate men must be left to the tender mercies of the rebels. Again the division was formed in line of battle to protect our pioneers and the regiments which were engaged in the destruction of the stores. The long railroad bridge across the river at this point had been burned. The work of destruction went on at a marvelous rate. Boxes of hard bread, hundreds of barrels of flour, rice, sugar, coffee, salt and pork were thrown upon the burning piles and consigned to the flames. One heap of boxes of hard bread as large as a good sized dwelling made a part of the sacrifice. Boxes of clothing and shoes were opened and every man as he passed helped himself to whatever he thought worth carrying away. Notwithstanding thousands helped themselves, and huge boxes of clothing were cast into the flames, we found on our return to the Peninsula two years afterwards, that the inhabitants for a long distance around were clothed and shod with articles left by us at Savage's Station on the grand retreat. The people had also made large gains by gathering up the coats, pants, shirts and shoes left on the ground and selling them in Richmond and elsewhere.
It was easy thus to dispose of commissary and quartermaster's stores, but to destroy the immense magazines of cartridges, kegs of powder, and shells, required more care. These were loaded into cars; a long train was filled with these materials, and then, after setting fire to each car, the train was set in motion down the steep grade. With wildest fury the blazing train rushed; each revolution of the wheels adding new impetus to the flying monster, and new volumes to the flames. The distance to the bridge was two miles. On and on the burning train thundered like a frightful meteor. Now, the flames being communicated to the contents of the cars, terrific explosions of shells and kegs of powder lent new excitement to the scene. The air was full of shrieking, howling shells, the fragments of which tore through the trees and branches of the forest; and huge fragments of cars were seen whirling high in the air.
At length the train reached the river; and such was its momentum, that, notwithstanding the bridge was burned, the engine and the first car leaped over the first pier in the stream, and the cars hung suspended. While this destruction was going on, Smith's division moved back beyond Savage's Station, toward White Oak Swamp, marching, with frequent halts, three or four miles, when we were ordered to retrace our steps with all speed, to reinforce Sumner's corps, which was engaging the enemy. The heat of the day was most oppressive. Many of our men fell with sunstroke. Among those who thus suffered was General Davidson.