The Empty Sleeve: or, The Life and Hardships of Henry H. Meacham, in the Union ArmyMeacham, Henry H.
History
The Empty Sleeve: or, The Life and Hardships of Henry H. Meacham, in the Union Army
Meacham, Henry H.
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives
We were well supplied with rations, but the hardships were too much for
us; we daily grew weak and poor, and at that time, it did not seem that
I could keep with them much longer. But I little knew then what a man
can stand if obliged to.
When we left Spottsylvania, we marched in a southerly direction,
crossing the Po and Tar Rivers, and after a long and tiresome march, we
arrived at the North Anna River. This we crossed at one of the fords,
the first that we knew the foe were near; and the orders given to make
no noise in crossing. The banks were very steep on the southern side.
After crossing and ascending the hill, we formed our lines (there was
not more than a brigade that crossed at that time), and commenced our
advance. We had not far to go before coming in contact with the rebel
pickets, to whom we paid no attention, but kept steadily along, when
they broke in utter confusion, and retreated back to their general
lines. We advanced but a short distance before halting and building
breastworks; but we could not get them completed before the rebels were
upon us again, with twice our number. They halted a moment at our first
volley; but again they started and pressed on, but to no purpose, for
the incessant stream of fire and leaden hail was more than they could
stand. They succeeded in turning our right, which brought them in range
of our artillery, when seventeen pieces opened on them. This was more
than they could endure, and what were left fled back, leaving their dead
and wounded in our hands, with many prisoners. Their loss was heavy,
while ours was very light. The next morning, we advanced to Nolen's
Station, on the Virginia Central road, and commenced tearing up the
track. After we had completed this, the weather was rainy and the night
dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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