"Unfounded reports were circulated that the troops of this brigade were the first to give way, when the first attack of the enemy was made.
"It is not improper to state here that no charges of bad conduct are made against the troops upon its right, but that this brigade remained at its post and successfully resisted a simultaneous attack from the front, until the troops upon its right were doubled back and were retreating in disorder through and along its lines."
The presence of a general officer in authority, or an intelligent staff officer representing him, would have averted the useless slaughter of the evening of the 5th, and the disaster of the evening of the 6th, which, for a time, threatened the safety of the whole army. A brigade or more of troops thrown on the enemy's left by a little détour on either evening would have doubled it back and given us, with little loss, that part of the field and a free swing for the next day.
The success in gaining ground on the 5th left our right in the air, bent to the front, with the enemy on its flank, thus inviting the attack made the next day by General J. B. Gordon, which drove back the main part of the Sixth Corps on the Union centre. Gordon's attack was a repetition of Stonewall Jackson's flank movement at Chancellorsville, and it should have been so far anticipated as to cause its disastrous failure.
In field-hospital, on seeing a staff officer of mine (Captain Thomas J. Black, who was having a wounded hand dressed), I discussed the situation, and predicted the enemy would seize the favorable opportunity of attacking. Anticipating the attack, my servant (Andy Jackson), in his eager solicitude for my safety, kept by horse near the tent, saddled, so I might, when it came, be assisted on him, and escape. Gordon's men advanced far enough for their bullets to pass through the hospital tents, but the hospital was not taken.
General Shaler's brigade of the First Division, Sixth Corps, having been placed on the extreme right of the Sixth, was the first to give way; then, the enemy being well on the rear of the Second Brigade as well as on its flank, and it being at the same time attacked from the front, it also gave way in some confusion, but, under its brave officers, Colonels Ball, Horn, and McClennan, Lieutenant-Colonels Granger, Ebright, Binkley, and others, it was soon assembled in good line in front of Gordon's advancing column, where it did much to arrest it. Generals Seymour and Shaler being separated from their brigades, while searching for them were both captured.(10)
But somebody needed, and sought, a "scapegoat." There were only three regiments in the Second Brigade—6th Maryland, 110th and 122d Ohio, which had served under Milroy in the Shenandoah Valley in 1863. Somebody reported to the press, and probably to Grant, that on the evening of the 6th of May troops that had fought there under Milroy were on the extreme right of the army, and were the first to give way. This was necessarily false, as these troops were not then on the extreme right at all, and did not retire until the force to their right had been broken and routed. General Grant to Halleck, in an excusatory and exculpatory letter (May 7th), as to the disaster on his right, said: "Milroy's old brigade was attacked and gave way in great confusion, almost without resistance, carrying good troops with them."(10) This statement may have been made to tickle Halleck's ear, as he was known to hate Milroy and his friends, but it was, nevertheless, untrue and grossly unjust. Of the three regiments from the Shenandoah Valley, 494 (one third their number) fell dead or wounded on that field, through inefficiency and blunders of high officers who were never near enough to it to hear the fatal thud or passing whiz of a rifle ball. Many others of these regiments had fallen (nearby) on the heights of Orange Grove, the November before. Grant, long after, acknowledged the injustice of his statement.
After I had been wounded, though yet in command of the attacking force, a Major rode up from the left, and reported to me that his officers and men were falling fast, and expressed the fear that they could not be long held to their work. He was directed to cheer them with the hope that the expected support would soon arrive. As he swung his horse around to return, it was shot, fell, and the Major, lighting on his feet, without a word quickly disappeared (as seen by the light of flashing rifles) among the dense scrub pines. He never was seen again, nor his body found. He must have been killed, and his body consumed late by the great conflagration which, feeding on the dry timber and débris, swept the battle-field, licking up the precious blood and cremating the bodies of the martyr dead. This was the gallant McElwain, who, in the early morning, expressed so much anxiety for my safety.
Colonel William H. Ball, on hearing, late at night, of my wound, inquired particularly as to its nature, and being assured it was serious, characteristically exclaimed: "Good! he will get home now and survive the war; his fighting days are over." Not so, nor yet with him. As I was borne to the left along the rear of the line on a stretcher towards the field-hospital, about midnight, a quickened ear caught the sound of a voice, giving loud command, familiar to me years before at my home city. I summoned the officer, and found him to be my fellow-townsman, Colonel Edwin C. Mason, then commanding the 7th Maine. A day or two more and he, too, was severely wounded.
I had seen something of war, but, for the first time, my lot was now cast with the dead, dying, and wounded in the rear. A soldier on the line of battle sees his comrades fall, indifferently generally, and continues to discharge his duty. The wounded get to the rear themselves or with assistance and are seen no more by those in battle line. Some of the medical staff in a well organized army, with hospital stewards and attendants, go on the field to temporarily bind up wounds, staunch the flow of blood, and direct the stretcher- bearers and ambulance corps in the work of taking the wounded to the operating surgeons at field-hospital. The dead need and generally receive no attention until the battle is ended.