<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
<div class="note"><p class="hang">OUR COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE CHICKAHOMINY—PORTER’S
SUCCESSES—DESPATCHES TO THE PRESIDENT—HIS REPLY—HANOVER COURT
HOUSE—TERRIBLE STORM AND FLOOD—HOPES OF THE ENEMY—A SUDDEN AND
STRONG ATTACK—I ACT AS AN ORDERLY—THROUGH THE FLOOD—MY RETURN AND
REPORT—JOYFUL NEWS—MY OWN DISASTER—SCENES IN THE OLD MILL—WAITING
ON THE WOUNDED—MY SUFFERINGS BY THE ROADSIDE—A HARD-HEARTED
CHAPLAIN—A STUMBLING BLOCK.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">For</span> several days the enemy had been concentrating a large force on the
right flank of the Federals, with the intention of cutting off their
communications with the river. A portion of Fitz John Porter’s corps was
detailed to dispose of this force, and also to cut the Virginia Central,
Richmond and Fredericksburg railroads. The communication was cut off, and
after two severe engagements the enemy retreated, leaving behind them
several hundred prisoners, their cannon and camp equipage. On the same day
the following<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</SPAN></span> despatch was sent to the Secretary of War by the commanding
general:</p>
<p>“Camp near New Bridge, May 28th. Porter has gained two complete victories
over superior forces; yet I feel obliged to move in the morning with
reinforcements to secure the complete destruction of the rebels in that
quarter. In doing so I run some risk here, but cannot help it. The enemy
are even in greater force than I had supposed. I will do all that quick
movements can accomplish, but you must send me all the troops you can, and
leave me to full latitude as to choice of commanders. It is absolutely
necessary to destroy the rebels near Hanover Court House before I can
advance.”</p>
<p>To which the President replied: “I am very glad of General Porter’s
victory. Still, if it was a total rout of the enemy, I am puzzled to know
why the Richmond and Fredericksburg railroad was not seized again, as you
say you have all the railroads but the Richmond and Fredericksburg. I am
painfully impressed with the importance of the struggle before you, and
shall aid you all I can consistently with my view of due regard to other
points.”</p>
<p>Two days later McClellan telegraphs again: “From the tone of your
despatches I do not think that you appreciate the value and magnitude of
Porter’s victory. It has entirely relieved my right flank, which was
seriously threatened, it has routed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</SPAN></span> and demoralized a considerable
portion of the rebel forces, taken over seven hundred and fifty prisoners,
killed and wounded large numbers; one gun, many small arms, and much
baggage taken. It was one of the handsomest things in the war, both in
itself and in its results. Porter has returned, and my army is again well
in hand. Another day will make the probable field of battle passable for
artillery. It is quite certain that there is nothing in front of McDowell
at Fredericksburg. I regard the burning of South Anne bridge as the least
important result of Porter’s movement.”</p>
<p>The battle of Hanover Court House was certainly a splendid affair, and a
very important victory to the Army of the Potomac. Three days after this
battle, while the army was divided by the river, a portion of the troops
having crossed over the day before, a most fearful storm swept over the
Peninsula, accompanied with terrible exhibitions of lightning and
explosions of thunder. The water came down all night and all day in
perfect floods, completely inundating the valley through which the
Chickahominy flows, turning the narrow stream into a broad river,
converting the swamps into lakes, and carrying away one bridge and
rendering the other unsafe. And still the rain came pouring down in
torrents, reminding one of that crisis in the world’s history when “the
fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were
opened.” Had it not<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</SPAN></span> been for McClellan’s faith in the bible and in God’s
covenant with Noah, he would no doubt have seriously contemplated building
an ark, in order to save himself and his army from destruction. The rebels
seemed to think this flood was sent as a judgment from the Almighty upon
their hated enemies, and was a direct interposition of Providence in their
behalf, which would enable them to visit wholesale destruction upon the
Yankees.</p>
<p>On the thirtieth of May the enemy, taking advantage of this terrible state
of things caused by the disastrous storm, came rushing down upon our
troops in immense force. A battle opened at about one o’clock in the
afternoon, and after three hours’ desperate fighting, General Casey’s
division, occupying the first line, was compelled to fall back in
considerable disorder upon the second line, causing temporary confusion;
but the rapid advance of Generals Heintzelman and Kearney with their
divisions soon checked the rebels. Sumner, Sedgwick, Couch, Keyes and the
other commanders also labored valiantly to retrieve the injury effected by
the unfortunate retirement of Casey’s command.</p>
<p>The enemy, led by Hill and Longstreet, advanced in massive columns, with
threefold lines, and came boldly on like an overwhelming wave, as if
determined to crush all opposition by the suddenness and fierceness of the
attack. Total annihilation seemed to be their motto, and the determined<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</SPAN></span>
and reckless daring of the fierce and bloodthirsty rebels in such
overpowering numbers carried conviction to many loyal hearts that they
would succeed in driving that devoted fragment of an army into the
Chickahominy, before it would be possible for reinforcements to arrive.</p>
<p>At this time I was in military uniform, mounted upon my rebel horse, and
was acting orderly for General K. Several aides and orderlies had been
sent with messages and despatches, but no reinforcement had yet arrived,
and, taking a Federal view of it, the picture presented a gloomy
appearance. General K. reined in his horse abruptly, and taking from his
pocket an envelope, he hastily wrote on the back of it with a pencil—“In
the name of God bring your command to our relief, if you have to swim in
order to get here—or we are lost.” Handing it to me he said—“Go just as
fast as that horse can carry you to General G., present this with my
compliments, return immediately, and report to me.”</p>
<p>I put poor little “Reb” over the road at the very top of his speed until
he was nearly white with foam, then plunged him into the Chickahominy and
swam him across the river. I met General G. about a hundred rods from the
river making the best of his way toward the bridge. Engineers were at once
set to work strengthening the crazy structure, which was swaying to and
fro with the rushing tide. The eager, excited troops dashed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</SPAN></span> into the
water waist deep, and getting upon the floating planks went pouring over
in massive columns. I preferred to swim my horse back again rather than
risk myself upon such a bridge, for I looked every moment to see it give
way and engulf the whole division in the turbid waters of the swollen
creek. However, all reached the other side in safety, and started along
the flooded road on the double quick. This was cheering news to carry back
to General K., so I started again for the field in order to claim the
reward of “him who bringeth good tidings.”</p>
<p>I found General K. in the thickest of the fight, encouraging his men and
shouting his orders distinctly above the roar and din of battle. Riding up
to him and touching my hat, I reported—“Just returned, sir. General G.,
with his command, will be here immediately.” It was too good to keep to
himself, so he turned to his men and shouted at the top of his
voice—“Reinforcements! reinforcements!” then swinging his hat in the air
he perfectly electrified the whole line as far as his voice could reach,
and the glorious word “reinforcements” was passed along until that almost
exhausted line was reanimated and inspired with new hope.</p>
<p> </p>
<div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/img05.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="caption">ACTING ORDERLY.—Page 178.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While I was thus watching with delight the effects of this joyful news
upon the soldiers, my attention was directed to another object. General
H., who had made himself conspicuous by his <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</SPAN></span>gallant conduct, was struck
by a ball which shattered his arm badly. He was only a few rods from me,
and there was none near to help him. I asked General K. if I might go to
him, and after obtaining permission I rode up to him, leaped from my
horse, and hitched him near by. I then removed the clothing from his arm,
gave him some water, poured some on the wound, and went to my saddle-bags
to get some bandages, when my rebel pony laid hold of my arm with his
teeth and almost tore the flesh from the bone. Not content with that, he
turned his heels in an instant and kicked with both feet, sending me about
a rod. My arm was now almost as bad as General H.’s, and I could do but
little to help him, for in ten minutes it was swollen terribly, and I
could not raise it to my head; finally I was ordered back to an old
saw-mill about a mile and a half from the field, where were considerable
quantities of quarter-masters’ and commissary stores, with orders to have
them removed further to the rear; and all who were able to come to the
front, together with the surgeon and a portion of the hospital corps who
had been left there in charge of the sick, were to lose no time in
reporting themselves for duty on the field.</p>
<p>Upon arriving at the old saw-mill I found it crowded with wounded men who
had crawled there from the battle-field, to have their wounds dressed if
possible, and if not to lie down and <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</SPAN></span>suffer where the shot and shell
could not reach them. I delivered my orders. In a few moments more there
was not a soul left to minister to those poor fellows who were huddled
together in that mill by the score; all had gone to the front, and I was
left there in a sad plight.</p>
<p>I put my vicious little “Reb” in a building near the mill, where there was
plenty of hay and corn, but did not dare to unsaddle him. I then examined
the extent of the injury done to my arm, and found it was worse than I had
supposed. It was badly mangled by the horse’s teeth, and in one place a
large piece of flesh was torn from the arm and hung by small shreds. But
the arm was not the worst; he had kicked me in the side, which had lamed
and bruised me sadly. Yet this was no time to groan over a slight kick
from a horse, when so many lay around me with shattered limbs and ghastly
saber wounds, some of them even now in the very agonies of death. So,
resolutely saying to pain and lameness, “Stay thou here while I go
yonder,” I bound up my arm in a sling, and set about removing the
blood-clotted clothing from the wounds of those who needed it most; but
having neither knife or scissors, I was obliged in many instances to use
my teeth in order to tear the thick woolen garments stiffened and
saturated with blood, the very remembrance of which now makes me feel
rather uncomfortable in the gastric region; but then there was no
unpleasant sensation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</SPAN></span>The next thing to be thought of was, how I could procure some bandages;
but as to getting them from the saddle-bags, I would as soon have thought
of bearding a lion in his den, as of tempting the jaws of that ferocious
animal again. However, there were two houses within a mile, and I decided
to try my fortune in that direction. First of all I went among the sick,
who were left there by the surgeon, and inquired if there were any who
were able to assist me in dressing wounds. Yes, I found two; one a little
mail-carrier, and the other a commissary sergeant, both of whom were
scarcely able to stand alone. These two I set to work pouring cold water
upon the wounded limbs occasionally, and giving the men water to drink
until I returned.</p>
<p>At the first house I went to they would not let me in at all, but raised
the window and wished to know what was wanted. I told them, anything that
would admit of tearing up for bandages. No, they had nothing of the kind,
and closed the window again. I limped along to the next house. A man came
to the door, holding it, to prevent my attempting to get in. The same
question was asked, and a similar answer returned. By this time my
patience and strength were both exhausted, and my mind was made up with
regard to the course I should pursue. Therefore, drawing both my pistols
from my belt, I demanded some cotton, new or old—sheets, pillow-cases, or
any other<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</SPAN></span> article which would answer the purpose for bandages. The man
trembled from head to foot, and called his wife to know if she could let
me have anything of the sort; yes, she could, if I would pay her for it;
and of course I was willing to pay her; so she brought me an old sheet, a
pair of pillow-cases, and three yards of new factory cotton cloth, for
which she demanded five dollars. Happening to have only three dollars in
change, I told her I thought that would be sufficient; and so saying, I
left immediately.</p>
<p>I did not know, until I had proceeded some distance, that the blood was
running from my arm in a perfect stream. In my excitement and
determination, I had grasped one of my pistols with the lame hand and
started those terrible gashes bleeding afresh. I grew faint and dizzy, and
sat down by the road-side to gather a little strength before proceeding
further. While I sat there I saw a horseman coming in the distance, but
could not tell whether it was friend or foe, for it was growing dark. I
waited until he came nearer, when I was rejoiced to see that it was a
chaplain; not Mr. B., but of course he was a good man, being a chaplain
and a Federal. So I felt that relief was at hand. But imagine my
disappointment and chagrin when he came up and, priest-like, looked upon
me, “and passed by on the other side.” Well, after all, I did not care so
much for myself, but I thanked heaven that he had come on<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</SPAN></span> the poor men’s
account, for he would, no doubt, do much during the night to relieve their
sufferings.</p>
<p>Taking courage, I made my way slowly toward the mill, where I found, on my
arrival, the chaplain dismounted, coat off, and wisp in hand, rubbing and
brushing every speck of mud from his horse. After performing this
important duty, he then went to the nearest house, ordered supper, and
after partaking of a warm meal, he returned to the mill. Oh how glad I was
that all these preliminaries were gone through with, for now he would at
once enter upon the care of the wounded, and my heart ached for those two
sick boys, who were still attending to the wants of such as they could
assist, notwithstanding they required waiting upon themselves.</p>
<p>The wounded were coming in faster than ever, and I was busy tearing up the
cotton in strips, and trying to bind up some of the poor mangled limbs,
the little sick sergeant being my right hand man. I looked around for the
chaplain, but he was no where to be seen. I hobbled out to the building
where I had seen him put his horse, to see if he had really gone away; no,
he had not gone. There he lay on the floor, upon which was a quantity of
hay, wrapped up in his blanket, apparently unconscious that there was any
such thing as suffering in the world. Oh how I wanted to go to him,
quietly lay my hand on him, and say:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</SPAN></span> “Chaplain, will you be so kind as to
take the saddle from my horse; it has been on since early morning, and I
am not able to take it off.” Not that I cared particularly for having the
saddle removed, but just for sake of having “Reb” bring the chaplain to
his senses, and give him a little shaking up, so that he might realize
that these were war times, and that consequently it was out of the
question for chaplains in the army, especially in time of battle, to</p>
<p class="poem">Be carried to the skies<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On flowery beds of ease;</span><br/>
While others fought to win the prize,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And sailed through bloody seas.</span></p>
<p>But instead of doing so, I sat down and wept bitter tears of
disappointment and sorrow, and then, with a heavy heart and aching limbs,
I returned again to the mill.</p>
<p>All that weary night my heart burned with indignation, and I seemed
endowed with supernatural powers of endurance, for when morning came and
found me still at my post, without having tasted food for twenty-four
hours, I felt stronger and fresher than I had done the day before. My two
young sick friends had been persuaded to lie down, and were now fast
asleep, side by side with the wounded. But where was the chaplain? What
had become of him? He had escaped with the earliest dawn, without so much
as inquiring whether the men were dead or alive. This was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</SPAN></span> the conduct of
a man who professed to be a faithful follower of Him who went about doing
good! This was a man whom I had reverenced and loved as a brother in
Christ. Oh, what a stumbling-block that man was to my soul; for weeks and
months Satan took occasion to make this a severe temptation and trial to
me. I was tempted to judge every christian by that unholy example, and to
doubt the truth of every christian experience which I heard related from
time to time. But, thank God, I had the example of my faithful friend, Mr.
B., to counterbalance this, and by God’s grace I was enabled to rise above
this temptation. My doubts were gradually removed, and my faith in
christians re-established—but I never sufficiently recovered from my
feelings of disgust towards that particular chaplain, to ever again be
able to persuade myself to listen to a sermon delivered by him, or to
attend any religious meeting at which he presided. I always looked upon
him afterwards, as “one who had stolen the livery of heaven to serve the
devil in;” a mere whited sepulchre, and unworthy the sacred name of a
minister of the Gospel.</p>
<p class="poem">Oh, may our sympathizing breasts<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That generous pleasure know;</span><br/>
Kindly to share in others’ joy,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And weep for others’ woe.</span><br/>
<br/>
When poor and helpless sons of grief<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In deep distress are laid;</span><br/>
Soft be our hearts their pains to feel,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And swift our hands to aid.</span><br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</SPAN></span><br/>
On wings of love the Saviour flew,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To bless a ruined race;</span><br/>
We would, O Lord, thy steps pursue,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy bright example trace.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr style="width: 50%;" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />