MALVERN HILL--CONCLUSION
Malvern Hill was a small elevation, not over sixty feet high at its
topmost point, on the north bank of the James River. The plateau above
was nearly large enough for the entire army, and the approach from the
north was rather abrupt, while on the south it was protected by Western
River and heavy timber and brush.
The Army of the Potomac took its final stand around this hill in a
huge semi-circle, the right and the left resting upon the river, where
the gunboats could offer a good support. Back of the Hill was Harrison
Landing, which was to be the last stopping place for the great army.
It was the intention of the Confederate leaders to force the fighting
simultaneously all along the line, but when the time for action came
this was impossible. Owing to the denseness of the forests and the
lack of topographical knowledge of the country, some of the divisions
went astray and at the important moment were a mile or more away from
where they should have been. Nor were some of the Union troops better
off. Having retreated in haste and dropped their guns, they, seeing the
gunboats on the river ready to support them, ran forward again to find
their weapons, and meeting some of the advancing Confederates produced
a confusion which broke up all of the plans laid for that section of
the battleground.
From early morning the artillery were engaged, but it was not until
about one o’clock that the real attack of the Confederates began. From
that time on until nine in the evening the battle waged with relentless
fury at one spot or another, until, seeing they could not force the
Federals from their chosen position, the army of the South withdrew,
and McClellan was allowed to go his own way. The losses during the
retreat from before Richmond were over fifteen thousand men upon each
side.
Early in the morning the Goreville Volunteers found themselves resting
upon their arms on a small elevation some distance from the main hill.
Here was planted a strong battery which they had been called upon to
support. So far this battery had not been into action, but now, at
eleven o’clock, it began to belch forth at the Confederates who were
advancing in a hollow of the woods below. Only a few shots were fired,
the men in gray taking to cover as soon as possible.
“We’re out for hot work to-day,” said Louis, decidedly. “General Lee is
going to do his level best to break our backbone.”
“Yah, und maybe it vos his own packbone vill got proke,” put in Hans
Roddmann. “I been fightin’ so much der last week it seems like I can’t
do noddings else.”
One man had disappeared from the ranks without being either killed or
wounded. That was Jerry Rowe. Two days before Jerry had flung down
his gun and started on a run for Harrison Landing, and there he was
now, skulking among the wagons, waiting for the troops to embark for
Washington. Fortunately, neither side had many such arrant cowards as
this lad was.
“Attention!” came the cry. “Look to your guns, boys, and see if they
are loaded and in good condition. No play to-day. The general expects
every man to do his duty.”
“We will! We will! Down with the rebs! Let us drive ’em clear back to
Richmond!”
“Hurrah for Little Mac!”
Two hours went by, and again the battery opened up, as a long line of
men in gray were seen coming through the hollow at double-quick. The
shots did good execution, but the line came on through the brush, over
fallen trees and rocks, until it was advancing straight up the little
hill.
“Company, attention! Charge bayonets! Forward!”
The battery had blazed away right in the faces of the men in gray,
who were yelling at the top of their voices. But leaving their dead
and dying behind they strove to reach the cannons. Now the boys in
blue swung out to meet them. Crack! crack! went the rifle shots, like
barrels of hail, as line after line swung into position, fired, and
wheeled away to make room for the next. The execution was fearful and
the men in gray faltered at the very mouths of the pieces they desired
to capture.
But now reinforcements were coming--a large band of cavalry, with
colors flying and the trumpeter blaring wildly. Down the hollow at
breakneck speed and up the other side, the horses snorting and prancing
as they smelt the smoke and the burnt powder--on and on, until the
foot-soldiers had to leap aside to avoid being trodden upon. The
Montgomery Grays led the van, and Louis saw Andy in the fore, with
saber waving over his head. Andy was yelling and Louis almost imagined
he heard his words, but that was impossible in the unearthly racket
upon every side. The battle was opened in earnest now and sunset would
not see it ended.
“Close up!” It was an order to the Union men, and they closed up
around the battery, ready to defend every gun to the last. Still the
Confederate cavalry came up, until the leading horse confronted that
line of glistening bayonets, and then they paused. But only for an
instant; there was a break, and the cavalry rushed through. The battery
was lost and the Union men scattered in every direction, most of them
flying to the woods on the west. The gunners lay dead at the wheels of
their pieces, faithful to the last.
But the victory was a short-lived one. Word had been sent how the
battery was being pressed, and a body of New York volunteers were
hurried through the woods to the support of the Pennsylvania men.
With a ringing cheer they burst into the clearing and the cavalry
were shot down, horses and riders, in a fashion that made the leaders
think a whole division of the enemy pressed them. The order was given
to retreat and they scattered, just as did the Union men but a short
quarter of an hour before, and some went into that same woods to the
west.
Hatless, saberless, and shot through the left arm, Andy dashed into
that thicket to avoid the rain of bullets pouring into what was left of
the Montgomery Grays. Poor Firefly limped painfully, shot through the
flank. It had been a daring charge, but a useless one, for the battery
was again in the hands of Union gunners. He panted for breath and wiped
the sweat and dirt from his face.
“Andy!”
“Louis! By all that’s wonderful! Where did you come from?”
“We were driven into this woods by your cavalry--or some cavalry that
was with yours. How did you get here?”
“Some Union reserves came up and we had to scatter or be cut down to
a man. Oh, but it’s a fearful day for both sides! I wish this war was
over, Louis.”
“You don’t wish it any more than I do, Andy. It’s not all glory, is it?”
“Hardly. But, hark! Some troops are coming!”
“And I am not armed!”
“Nor I! Listen--they seem to be passing to our right. We had better
separate.”
“You are badly wounded, and so is Firefly.”
“So are you wounded. Your cheek is covered with blood.”
“That’s only a scratch, Andy. But one of your horses stepped on my
ankle and that’s not so nice. Hello, what’s the meaning of that?”
The conversation was broken off and both young soldiers stared through
the thickets. A strange, heavy smoke was rolling their way. Firefly
sniffed it and began to circle about uneasily.
“Andy, I think--”
“The woods are on fire!”
“You are right--and, see! the fire is behind us, too!”
They swung around. It was true, either by accident or design the forest
had been ignited, and now the dry brush was burning like so much
tinder. From here and there came a distant cry for help.
“It looks as if we were hemmed in, Louis. What shall we do?”
“Do? Get out--just as fast as we can. Come, there seems to be a clear
space to our left.”
They hurried off. The wind now began to blow, carrying the burning
embers close to each. Firefly snorted in alarm and could scarcely be
controlled. As Andy passed under a low-branched tree the animal gave a
sudden bound and threw his young master backward. The next instant he
was out of sight.
Louis ran forward. Andy lay where he had fallen, motionless and with
his eyes closed. His head had struck the root of a bush and he was
senseless.
“Andy! Andy!” cried Louis, pleadingly, but there was no response.
The young Union soldier looked back. The fire was advancing with
frightful rapidity. He must run with all his might if he would save
himself from the devouring element.
But could he leave Andy, his enemy and yet his best friend? No,
never! “I’ll die with him before I’ll do it!” he muttered between his
set teeth, and caught up the motionless form and slung it over his
shoulder. The burden was a heavy one, but he struggled on manfully.
[Illustration: “I’LL DIE WITH HIM BEFORE I’LL DO IT!”--_Page 426._]
But now he could not go much farther. Every nerve had been strained to
its utmost. He stumbled rather than ran a few steps more. Ah, what was
this--a tiny stream! He plunged into the water and allowed his clothing
to become saturated. He also threw some of the water into Andy’s face.
“Louis--what--what happened?” and Andy’s eyes opened widely.
“Firefly threw you and ran off, Andy. I carried you here. We are not
yet safe.”
“You carried me, Louis? How good of you! And the fire is behind?” By
a superhuman effort Andy started up. “We must go farther.”
“Yes. If you can walk give me your hand. See, there is a road and
beyond is a clearing. Come!”
On they went, side by side, Louis supporting Andy, who was still dizzy.
The clearing reached, they saw another road, and beyond was an open
field where a regiment of Union men were battling bravely against a
broken line of gray. Here both came to a halt and gazed into each
other’s eyes.
“We must part, Andy! Good-bye!”
“Good-bye, Louis, and I’ll never forget you. May God spare your life!”
“And may He spare yours, also!”
They shook hands and turned in opposite directions. It was the last the
chums saw of each other for many months to come.
The memorable day was drawing to a close when Louis found the
Goreville Volunteers, or what was left of them, for the charge at
Malvern Hill had cost the command dear. Brave Callings was dead and so
were ten others, and six men were missing. But, cut up as it was, the
company was joined to the remnants of several others and sent to the
aid of the center of the line.
At nine o’clock the Volunteers lay down on their arms, worn out to
such a degree that hardly a soldier could keep open his eyes. But the
Confederates had been repulsed in handsome shape, and, as worn out as
their enemy, they were perfectly willing to withdraw and leave the
victory wherever it might rest--which was with the Union forces.
* * * * *
And here properly ends my story of a young soldier in blue and a
young soldier in gray. A few days later found the Goreville Volunteers
at Harrison Landing, ready to return by water to Washington or to go
wherever they were sent. A slight attack was made by the Confederates,
but it soon ceased, and the troops of General Lee marched back to the
neighborhood of Richmond. From this point Andy, still suffering from
his wounds, was allowed to return, for the time being, to his home.
Firefly had again turned up, and youth and horse soon found themselves
safe in Lee Run once more. Need I say anything of the warm greeting the
young Confederate received from his parents and his sister?
“And Louis saved you from the fire, did he?” said Grace, when Andy’s
story was told. “How noble of him! He is surely a real hero, even if he
is a Unionist!” and her eyes beamed with pleasure. She was thoroughly
glad to learn, later on, that Louis was safe.
“Now you are home, you must take it easy for a while,” said Andy’s
parents. “You have done enough for the cause.” And the youth who had
worn the gray was quite content to rest for the time being.
“I am coming home on furlough.” That was the message Lucy and Martha
brought home from the Goreville post-office one day. There was a great
bustle all over the house, and when the time came how all waited for
the train to arrive!
“I see him! There is Louis!” cried Lucy, and then all rushed forward,
to kiss the young soldier and to shake hands over and over again.
“My boy! My boy!” murmured Mrs. Rockford, straining him to her breast.
“God be thanked for this day!” And the tears of joy streamed down her
cheeks.
“I want to ask you one thing,” said Louis to his father, after the
greeting was over. “Did you receive that document I sent--the one made
out by Mr. Faily?”
“I did. It came yesterday morning. The edge of the envelope was burnt,
and the address scorched, but the document and letter were intact. An
hour after they came Mr. Hammer called. I showed him the document and
he was thunderstruck. He got out as soon as he could, and by the way he
acted I do not believe he will bother us any more.”
“Good!” cried the young soldier. And his heart was lighter than ever.
“Louis, you have done your duty, and more,” said his father,
affectionately. “I am proud of such a son.”
“And we are all proud!” cried Martha. “Just as proud as we can be!”
* * * * *
The great rebellion is now only a matter of history. Many of those
who wore the blue and the gray are sleeping side by side on the great
battlefields. To those who laid down their lives, the Peninsular
Campaign was the end of all, but to the great majority it was but the
beginning of a conflict which was to wage fiercely for three years
longer. Louis and Andy were destined to serve further, the one under
the stars and stripes, the other under the stars and bars. But, come
what might, neither was to forget those first battles, when each did so
nobly Defending His Flag.
THE END.
=Transcriber’s Notes=
Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Illustrations have been moved nearer to the text to which they refer.