May 30th. The New York Herald came in camp to-day, containing full accounts of the disastrous overthrow of our army in the valley, and the panic it has created in Washington. It seems the militia have been called upon, just as they were in 1861, to go to the defense of the capital. In the evening, Doctor McKim, Captain McKay, and I rode along the corps front from one end to the other, to get an idea of the position. Everything seems to be in splendid condition, but what a dreadful thing it is to think of all this force lined up for the express purpose of destroying our fellow creatures! War is certainly a dreadful calamity. On our way back, stopped at brigade headquarters to get the news. On the 24th, Key’s corps, Nagle’s brigade, of Casey’s division in front, made a reconnoisance from the old camp near Bottom Bridge, and advanced beyond Savage’s Station. There they struck a heavy force of rebel cavalry, infantry, and artillery. After a short fight, the rebels retreated and Nagle’s brigade bivouacked on the battle field; on the 27th the whole force moved forward again, Nagle’s brigade still in advance, finally halting, and establishing a picket line within five miles of Richmond. Half a mile in rear of Nagle, Wessel’s and Palmer’s brigades are posted in reserve, while Couch’s division occupies a line running just in front of Seven Pines, on the Williamsburg road; and Fair Oaks, on the Richmond and York river railroad. All these troops, belong to the Fourth corps, and are commanded by Keys. Yesterday, the rebels, tired of our inactivity, began the initiative, by engaging our pickets with skirmishers; the fight lasted all day, involving the whole line. At daylight again this morning, they opened, and Casey had to send Peck’s brigade to enable Nagle to hold his position, although well intrenched. From what is known, we conclude the enemy are preparing for a formidable attack. It seems very curious, that notwithstanding the known proximity of the rebel army, and the fact that we came here for the express purpose of attacking and fighting it, we are held back, and all our movements are hesitating, slow, and timid. Only two corps have crossed the river thus far, which in case of a sudden attack, may find themselves in a very awkward position. Why these corps should be posted so far in advance, separated by a treacherous river from their support, does not seem clear to the average man, especially as there is no apparent reason why we should not close right up, and pitch in.
Before we got back to camp, the sky became overcast, dark masses of clouds rolled threateningly overhead, and presently the lightning flashed around us in a vivid and terrible manner. Heavy peals of thunder followed and then the rain came down in sheets; in less than five minutes the fields and camps were flooded, and the roads filled with water, rushing down to join the river.
After a good supper in a tight tent, some of us spent the evening with the colonel, talking over the events of the day in front, and the possible effect of the tremendous rain upon the river separating our forces. The Chickahominy drains the high country for many miles, and owing to its sinuosities and shallowness, easily overflows its banks, and becomes unfordable. Many of the negroes hereabouts tell us it spreads out, sometimes overflowing the bridges and cutting off all communication for days with either side. Knowing these facts, it seems extraordinary we were not all moved over together. The colonel thinks it poor generalship, and is getting anxious to be transferred to the western armies, which he thinks are better handled than ours. We all agreed we were on the eve of a great battle, and that in a few hours, probably, we shall be called upon to prove our mettle. About nine o’clock, we drank a punch and turned in, to go to sleep, the rain still falling and the camp most uncomfortable.
