in Richmond. "The Confederate Congress had adjourned in such haste as to show that the members were anxious to provide for their own personal safety. President Davis sent his family to North Carolina, and a part of the government archives were packed ready for transportation. At the railroad dépôts were piles of baggage awaiting transportation; and the trains were crowded with women and children, going to distant points in the country, and escaping from the alarm and distress in Richmond."*

What must have been the surprise of the rebels, when the next morning, after the display of such bravery and strength, the Union army had commenced a most perilous retreat from the Chickahominy towards the James River! The pursuit, at first cautious in the extreme, became a succession of most violent assaults from an army roused by all the moral effects of a great victory. At Malvern Hill, while two-thirds of his men were yet struggling to disengage themselves from the swamps of the Chickahominy and the furious attacks of the enemy, Gen. M'Clellan found it necessary to make a bold stand to save the Army of the Potomac from destruction.

On the first day of July, Jackson moved on to the attack, with Whiting's division on his left, D. H. Hill's on the right, and Ewell's in the centre. Huger's and Magruder's men came up to join in the action, while Longstreet and A. P. Hill were held in reserve. The forces of D. H. Hill advanced against our right; but they were swept down by a fire that no men could resist. Jackson sent his own division and a part of Ewell's to Hill's support; but success on that part of the field was impossible. On our left, Magruder ordered fifteen thou sand infantry to charge. "There was," says Pollard, “a run of more than six hundred yards up a rising ground, an unbroken flat beyond of several hundred yards, one hundred pieces of cannon behind breastworks, and heavy masses of infantry in support. The brigades advanced bravely across the open field, raked by the fire of the cannon and large

*Pollard, p. 211.

bodies of infantry. Some were broken, and gave way; others approached close to the guns, driving back the infantry, compelling the advanced batteries to retire to escape capture, and mingling their dead with those of the enemy. To add to the horrors of the scene, and the immense slaughter in front of the batteries, the gunboats increased the rapidity of their broadsides; and the immense missiles came through the air with great noise, tearing off the treetops, and bursting with loud explosions. Towards sunset, the concussion of artillery was terrific. The hill was clothed in sheets of flame; shells rained athwart the horizon; the blaze of the setting sun could scarcely be discerned through the canopy of smoke which floated from the surface of the plains and rivers. Piles of dead lay thick, close to the enemy's batteries; and the baleful fires of death yet blazed among the trees, where our shattered columns had sought an imperfect cover behind the slight curtain of the fort." Night came on to stop this dreadful carnage. The rebels retired, feeling that they had not strength enough left for what they had hoped would be a grand final triumph. They had failed in their brilliant charge, and innumerable fugitives carried dismay to Richmond. Our right was unbroken. We had gained a great victory, and yet Gen. M'Clellan fled from it as from a crushing defeat. The rebel brigadier-general J. R. Tremble says, "The next morning, by dawn, I went off to ask for orders, when I found the whole army in the utmost disorder; thousands of straggling men, asking every passer-by for their regiment; ambulances, wagons, and artillery obstructing every road; and altogether, in a drenching rain, presenting a scene of the most woful and disheartening confusion."

Just when our splendid troops, with spirits still unbroken, were expecting every moment to receive the order to advance through these shattered rebel forces to Richmond, which was now so nearly helpless at their feet, they were ordered to retreat. It was too much to bear. Some cursing, and gnashing their teeth with rage, others weeping with

disappointment, these noble men were hurried away to seek a place of safety, leaving multitudes of their dead and wounded to the care of the enemy.

For three months of excessive caution, these heroic men had fought their way up to within four miles of Richmond, during which the Confederates had every opportunity to rally all their men, and prepare for the conflict; and they had used it with the utmost industry and skill. After one continuous battle, lasting seven days, during which they had suffered incredible hardships, amid the carnage of battle-fields and the mire and miasma of the swamps, and seen more than fifteen thousand of their brave comrades slaughtered, wounded, or captured, they had at length wrenched victory from the grasp of their deadly enemies, and were yet eighty-six thousand men of unfaltering courage and unconquerable prowess; but they were now to leave their fields of heroic daring in disgrace! Never was obedience a sterner test of loyalty; but they obeyed. The campaign of the Peninsula was over; and our enraged, dispirited army must haste to unite with Pope's command to save Washington.

Cedar Mountain, and "the second Bull Run" as it is commonly called, followed not long after; and, while men and parties differed as to the responsibility, the disgrace came upon the nation to heighten the dissatisfaction with the conduct of the war.

Why were all these disasters? Why did not our brave and superb army of the Potomac capture the rebel capital? Why, instead, must our own capital be menaced in consequence of disgraceful defeat, when our forces were apparently strong enough to achieve victory? By many it will be answered, they were not well commanded; by others, that they were not properly re-enforced, and were attempting impossibilities. Only one answer, however, can be final. The nation was not yet ready to do justice. If we had closed the war then, there would have been no proclamation of liberty.

ANTIETAM.

The Confederate idea of carrying the war into the North had been delayed much longer than was intended; but the result of M'Clellan's Peninsular campaign, and Pope's defeat at "the second Bull Run," determined this question. On the first day of September, Gen. Lee, with a large portion of the Army of Virginia, moved towards Maryland: on the 6th he was in Frederick City, from which he marched his aggressive force to the severe defeat of South Mountain.

On the 16th, these old antagonists, M'Clellan and Lee, with large armies, met on the field of Antietam. The impetuous Hooker hurled his brave division against the veterans of Stonewall Jackson, and compelled them, after a dreadful conflict, to recede from their position. Early came forward to replace Jackson's division, which, however, unsubdued, would soon re-appear on the field. Rickett and Meade now moved forward with spirit, and drove back the rebel lines. Hood's division, which had disappeared, came up again with great energy. Doubleday's "best brigade moved forward in double-quick, and seized the crest of the hill. Their brave commander, Hartsuff, fell, severely wounded; but they held this critical point alone for half an hour. Rickett's division marched boldly to this centre, but recoiled from the terrific fire of the foe. Mansfield came to their help, but was driven back. On our right, Doubleday's guns destroyed a rebel battery. Rickett's men rallied and stood firm, but were not able to advance. Hooker brought up Crawford's and Gordon's brigades and Mansfield's troops to his aid, and commenced a forward movement, to carry the woods; but, receiving a severe wound, was compelled to retire from the field. Sumner, now in command here, brought up to the bloody cornfield Sedgwick's division of his own corps. The rebel M-Laws, after a severe night's march, moved into the field to the support of Jackson, and,

with Walker's and Early's divisions, assailed our brave men with dreadful energy, and retook the cornfield, but recoiled from the murderous fire of our batteries. Franklin, with his fresh troops, now appeared in the battle. He sent Slocum to the centre, and ordered Smith to retake the contested ground. Rushing suddenly upon the rebels, they were swept from the field, which thereafter remained in our hands.

For four dreadful hours, French's division of Sumner's corps withstood the onsets of the Confederates, having gained an advanced position at the close of the day. Richardson's division of the same corps came into action, the Irish brigades being conspicuous for gallant and fearless bearing. The enemy now attempted to turn, first the left, and then the right, of this division, but were repulsed with heavy loss. They then charged with desperation upon the centre, but were hurled back with great slaughter. The brave Gen. Richardson fell, and Hancock took his place. Further attempts of the rebels showed that they had been seriously weakened by their losses; and the night closed the action here, leaving the advantage with us.

In the afternoon, M'Clellan ordered up a large number of Porter's corps, held till then in reserve. Burnside, now reenforced, charged across the bridge and up the hill, and took the heights. A. P. Hill's division, coming up fresh from Harper's Ferry, rushed upon our ranks, now disordered by victory, and hurled them back; but, recoiling from the terrific fire of our batteries, they made no attempt to cross the bridge. The lion-hearted Jackson, after reconnoitring, declined the attempt to obey the orders of Lee to turn our right, and wrench a victory from the firm, determined ranks of our bleeding freemen. So closed, indecisively, "the bloodiest day that America ever saw." More than eighty-seven thousand Union men and at least sixty thousand Confederates entered the field; while the num

* Greeley, ii. 211.

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