of gunboats was discovered, and on the long peninsula between Herring Run and the James the exhausted army reached a resting-place.  But so great was the disorder, that during the whole of that day nothing was done to prepare a defensive position; a ridge to the north, which commanded the whole camp, was unoccupied; and, according to the Committee of Congress which took evidence on the conduct of the war, “nothing but a heavy rain, thereby preventing the enemy from bringing up their artillery, saved the army from destruction."* (* Report on the Conduct of the War page 27.) McClellan’s own testimony is even more convincing.  “The army,” he wrote on July 8, the second day after the battle, “is thoroughly worn out and requires rest and very heavy reinforcements...  I am in hopes that the enemy is as completely worn out as we are...The roads are now very bad; for these reasons I hope we shall have enough breathing space to reorganise and rest the men, and get them into position before the enemy can attack again..  It is of course impossible to estimate as yet our losses, but I doubt whether there are to-day more than 50,000 men with the colours."* (* O.R. volume 11 part 1 pages 291, 292.)

As his army of 105,000 men, during the whole of the Seven Days, lost only 16,000, the last admission, if accurate, is most significant.  Nearly half the men must either have been sick or straggling.

It was not because the Confederates were also worn out that the Federals were given time to reorganise and to establish themselves in a strong position.  Jackson, the moment it was light, rode through the rain to the front.  Learning that the enemy had evacuated their position, he ordered his chief of staff to get the troops under arms, to form the infantry in three lines of battle, and then to allow the men to build fires, cook their rations, and dry their clothes.  By 11 o’clock the ammunition had been replenished, and his four divisions were formed up.  Longstreet’s brigades had pushed forward a couple of miles, but no orders had reached the Valley troops, and Major Dabney rode off to find his general.  “I was told,” he writes, “that he was in the Poindexter House, a large mansion near Willis’ Church.  Lee, Jackson, Dr. McGuire, and Major Taylor of Lee’s staff, and perhaps others, were in the dining-room.  Asking leave to report to General Jackson that his orders had been fulfilled, I was introduced to General Lee, who, with his usual kindness, begged me to sit by the fire and dry myself.  Here I stayed much of the day, and witnessed some strange things.  Longstreet, wet and muddy, was the first to enter.  He had ridden round most of the battle-field, and his report was not particularly cheerful.  Jackson was very quiet, never volunteering any counsel or suggestion, but answering when questioned in a brief, deferential tone.  His countenance was very serious, and soon became very troubled.  After a time the clatter of horses’ hoofs was heard, and two gentlemen came in, dripping.  They