Three years in the Sixth Corps

by George T. Stevens

The conflict raged till eight o'clock, when the confederates, repulsed at every point, beaten and discouraged, left the field, and no more was seen of them. The whole loss to the confederates in this engagement was about four hundred.

Before midnight, the rear-guard had turned toward White Oak Swamp, leaving many hundreds of our brave wounded and sick men lying upon the green sward, or collected under rude shelters. Here, large groups were gathered under the shade of some large tree; and there, long lines of staggering invalids, leaning upon their guns or staffs for support, tottered after the retreating column, in the hope of being able to reach with it a place of safety.

Surgeons were left to care for these unfortunate ones who could not get off; and a small amount out of the abundance of provisions that was condemned to destruction was saved for them. Of all the sad scenes which had made the Peninsula swarm with melancholy memories, nothing we had seen could compare with this most sorrowful of all. Twenty-five hundred of our sick and wounded were left to fall into the hands of the enemy.

At nine or ten in the evening, we withdrew from our position before Savage's Station, and marched rapidly toward White Oak Swamp. The road was completely filled with wagons, ambulances and artillery, mingled with horsemen and infantry, all crowding forward with utmost speed. Never had our men experienced so severe a march. They were obliged to pick their way among the teams, losing all organization, each man bent upon making his way forward regardless of others.

At length, toward morning, we crossed White Oak creek, ascended a little elevation on the further side, and lay down upon the grass completely exhausted and worn out.

The sun was shining brightly when we were roused from our heavy slumbers. The morning passed in perfect quiet except the rattle of the trains which had parked here over night, and now were hurrying along the narrow road, wagons and artillery rushing by with all speed to allow room for the immense collection to file out. This process continued till afternoon, and was the only source of excitement to us except the distant roar of battle on the left, where McCall and Hooker were hotly engaged. Thus matters continued until about two o'clock; the men seeking shelter among the pines or resting quietly after their weary night's march. A picket line composed of men from the various regiments of our Third brigade, Second division, guarding our extreme right flank. All were listless and little dreaming of the tremendous storm of iron hail which was gathering to break upon us in a moment.

Suddenly, like a thunderbolt, seventy-five pieces of artillery belched forth their sheets of flame and howling shells; and in an instant, our whole division was thrown into the most perfect confusion by the deadly missiles which flew among us in every direction. Such cannonading had never before been heard by our army, and before our batteries could reply with any effect, the horses were killed, the gunners dispersed and the pieces disabled. It was a most perfect surprise; no one was prepared; men ran hither and thither seeking shelter behind any object which seemed even sufficient to conceal them from the view of the enemy.

It appeared that Jackson had effected a crossing of the river, and with great secrecy made his way to the border of White Oak creek, where, concealed by trees and underbrush, he had massed his batteries, and when all was in perfect readiness had opened upon us this storm of death. Unutterable confusion prevailed for a time; riderless horses galloped madly to the rear; men rushed here and there; officers wandered about without commands, and men were left without directions how to act. Generals Smith and Davidson occupied an old fashioned wooden house which stood upon the brow of the elevation above and facing the bridge. About it were many orderlies, holding their horses, or lounging carelessly, or chatting with each other. The very first volley riddled the house with shells; orderlies rushed from the place in consternation and the inmates quickly appeared without, gazing in amazement toward the source of this unexpected cause of the tumult. The gray-haired owner of the house was cut in two as he stood in the door, and several other persons were more or less injured. General Smith, at the moment the cannonade opened, was engaged at his rude toilette; his departure from the house was so hasty that he left his watch, which he did not recover. He coolly walked off to a less exposed position and devoted himself to restoring order. One regiment, as soon as the shells began to fly, rushed pell-mell to the rear, none of the men standing upon the order of their going.

During all this time a few of the regiments held their ground without moving. By active exertions, on the part of officers, order was restored and the whole division fell back a short distance, taking up a position at the edge of a strip of woods, which commanded an open field. General Smith, with his accustomed fearlessness, was to be seen riding along his lines exhorting his men to coolness, and by his own composure restoring confidence to them. The design of Jackson, to cross the stream, was frustrated. The firing soon ceased, and, as darkness came on, quiet again reigned, except now and then a little skirmishing.

At nine o'clock in the evening, under cover of the darkness, we silently and hastily withdrew. All orders were given in whispers; men refrained from conversation; and everything indicated the most intense anxiety on the part of our generals for the safety of the army. Thus, in silence, we hastened on our way; the weary and exhausted troops scarcely able to keep awake while they marched. No better illustration can be given of the intense state of anxiety, excitement and doubt which prevailed, than the following little incident, which occurred during this night march. Our Third brigade, leading the Second division, had halted where the narrow road passed through a piece of woods, waiting a moment for the road to clear, or for the guides to report the direction for the march. Generals Franklin and Davidson, with officers of Davidson's brigade, were grouped together near the head of the column, sitting upon their horses. The weary men, almost overcome by sleep, were leaning upon their muskets or lying in the road half asleep. Officers nodded and swung this way and that in their saddles. The stillness of death prevailed. In an instant, without any perceptible cause, as though a breath from some evil genius had swept the narrow track, every man was gone from the road. They stood in the woods looking with breathless wonder into the road for the unseen danger. After the first moment of surprise, the word passed along, in low tones, "Attention!" Not a living being could be seen in the road, and all was silence. Recovering from the first surprise, General Davidson looked for General Franklin, who, but a moment before, was dozing by his side. "General Franklin! General Franklin!" called the general in a loud whisper, but nothing could be found of him, and we saw no more of him that night. What was the cause of this sudden alarm we never knew. Possibly, a riderless horse might have suddenly startled those in front, or, quite as likely, there was no cause whatever; but the incident illustrates the state of feeling in the army that night.