Three years in the Sixth Corps

by George T. Stevens

The rebels, now aware of the retreat, were following close at the heels of the Union army, but declined to make any offensive demonstrations, further than picking up stragglers and those that fell out by the way from weakness and fatigue. The main portion of the rebel army was now occupied in important movements in another direction.

Another rapid march, under a burning sun, brought our corps to the ancient capital of the Old Dominion—Williamsburgh. Passing through its streets without halting, taking only time to glance at its now dilapidated buildings, we reached the familiar scenes of the old battle-field, which, three months before, we little expected to recross before the downfall of the rebellion. Here was the plain where a portion of our Second division had, by its gallantry, decided the fate of the battle; the scene of our bivouac in the rain and mud, and the redoubts where lay the wounded rebels, whose groans had rendered the night hideous. In the midst of these scenes we bivouacked again for the night.

At dawn the column moved again, and after a fatiguing march reached Yorktown; our Second division encamping in the works erected by Porter's division during our famous thirty days' siege of that place.

Many of the men had by this time become exhausted; and a long train of ambulances was filled with these and sent ahead on the morning of the 20th. The well ones soon followed toward Fortress Monroe, halting on the field of Big Bethel. This was the first visit of our corps to this disastrous field, and the men rambled about manifesting great interest in the spot rendered sacred by the blood of Winthrop and Greble.

Plums, peaches and sweet potatoes constituted novel additions to the diet of the men, and although the two former were unripe, their good effects were manifested in arresting multitudes of those troublesome cases of diarrhea which had resisted all treatment so long as the men were deprived of acid fruits. Another hard march on the 21st brought the corps again, after five months' absence, to the vicinity of the desolated village of Hampton, and the end of our march for the present. The whole army was crowded along the shores, waiting to embark for Aquia. Transports of every size and description were riding upon the bay or lashed to the wharves, and infantry, cavalry and artillery were crowding toward the beach ready to take their turn to embark. The scene was one of unusual activity, resembling only the one we had witnessed on embarking for the Peninsula months ago.

At length all were on board, and the transports swung out upon the bay and steamed up the Potomac. One of the transports on which a portion of the Second division was embarked, the "Vanderbilt," had been, in other days, an old friend, as she ploughed up and down the Hudson; now her magnificent saloons, which had been of dazzling beauty, were dismantled and disfigured. No gorgeous drapery or gilded mirrors adorned them, but desolation and filth prevailed.

The weather was charming, and, except for the crowded condition of the transports, the trip would have been a delightful one. What a contrast was there in the appearance of those same men now, and when they came down the river in April! Then our ranks were full; the men were healthy and in fresh vigor; their uniforms were new and clean, and their muskets and equipments were polished and glistening. Now, we looked about with sadness when we remembered how many of our former companions were absent, and how few present. We could bring to mind many who went to the Peninsula, full of hope, who had sunk as victims of the malarial poisons, and now rested in humble graves at Yorktown or along the Chickahominy; and many others who had nobly fallen upon the field of strife; and yet others who now were wearing out tedious days of sickness in hospitals or at home.

The little band that remained could hardly be recognized as the same men who left the defenses of Washington but a few months since; their faces were now bronzed from constant exposure to the scorching rays of the sun, and their clothing was worn and soiled. Hats and caps of every description: hats of straw and of palm leaf, of brown wool, black wool, and what had been white wool. Caps military and caps not military, all alike in only one respect, that all were much the worse for wear. It would have puzzled a stranger to have determined from this diversity of apparel, what was the regular uniform of our troops.

We came up the river with feelings far less exultant and confident than those experienced in our downward trip. Indeed a gloom hung over the minds of all. The army was satisfied that General McClellan would be removed from command, and it was said that General Pope or General Burnside would be his successor. Though they remembered the brilliant successes of the one in the west and of the other in the south, many expressed fears that the command of a large army might be as fatal to either of these as it had been to General McClellan.

At sunset of the 23d, the transports bearing the two divisions of the Sixth corps, were anchored just off Alexandria; but none of the men were allowed to go ashore. Spending another night in the crowded vessels, where the foul air prevailing between decks rendered breathing anything but a luxury, the men hailed the appearance of daylight as the time for their liberation from this close and unpleasant confinement.