"Suddenly a halt was made,--there was a deep pause, and the line wavered from right to left. We now saw the character of the enemy's works. A ravine deep and wide yawned before us, while from the other side of the crest of the almost perpendicular bank, a breastwork of logs was erected, from behind which the dastard invaders were pouring murderous volleys upon our troops. The pause made by our troops was but a brief breathing space. The voice of Law was heard, 'Forward, boys! charge them!' and with a wild, mad shout our impetuous soldiery dashed forward."[40] [Footnote 40: Richmond Whig, June 29, 1862.] THE MOVEMENT TO JAMES RIVER. On the morning of the 28th, General Keyes and General Porter, followed by long trains of wagons and herds of cattle, moved towards the south, through the dark forests of White-Oak Swamp. At White-House landing, sloops, schooners, barges, and steamers were departing for Yorktown. At Savage Station the torch was applied to all the stores which could not be removed. Barrels of pork, beef, sugar, bags of coffee, boxes of bread, were destroyed. A railroad train loaded with ammunition was standing on the track. The engine was ready for use. Far down the track, there was a pillar of cloud rising from the burnt bridge across the Chickahominy. The cars were set on fire. The engineer stepped upon the engine for the last time, and pulled the throttle. The wheels began to turn. He opened the valve to its full width, and jumped upon the ground. The engine sprang down the descending grade, propelled by the pent-up power. It is two miles from the station to the bridge, and over this distance it rushed like an unchained tiger. Sparkling, crackling, roaring with increasing velocity, dashing along the fields, over the meadows, through the forests, a trail of fire, a streaming banner of flame and smoke, a linked thunderbolt, rumbling, growling, exploding, leaping from the abutment full forty feet, bursting into a million fragments, jarring the earth with the mighty concussion, and disappearing beneath the waters, a wreck, a ruin forever! General McClellan was obliged to leave some of his sick and wounded. Many soldiers shed tears as they bade a last farewell to their comrades. "I would rather die than fall into the hands of the Rebels," said one. "O my God! is this the reward I deserve for all the sacrifices I have made, the battles I have fought, and the agony I have endured from my wounds?"[41] was the despairing cry of another. [Footnote 41: Peninsular Campaign.] "Do not be ashamed of your cause. Defend it boldly, and put your trust in God"; were the words of one noble chaplain, Rev. Mr. Marks, who would not leave them, but who remained to be a prisoner for their sakes. They prayed together and sang a hymn. "Jesus, my God, I know his name, His name is all my trust; He will not put my soul to shame, Nor let it e'er be lost." They were comforted, and resolved to meet their fate like men.