MORE OF THE FIRST BATTLE OF MALVERN--A PAUSE--THE ATTACKS ON THE MAIN
POSITION--REPULSE AFTER REPULSE--VICTORY--STRANGE INCIDENTS OF THE LAST
HOUR OF THE BATTLE.
Still the battle went on--that ferocious attack which seemed to have the
desperation of defence, and that steady defence which appeared to have
the assured confidence of an attack. The smoke gathered rapidly, rolled
away at times, then settled in dense masses, shutting out portions of
the battle-field and whole divisions of either army from view, and
concealing the movements of either belligerent from the other until
lifted in the occasional lulls of the fiery storm or wafted away by the
lazy breeze which came sluggishly over from the James River marshes. Men
fell thickly, crushed, mangled and dead, or so terribly wounded by shot
or shell that life could be henceforth nothing more than one long,
helpless agony. Slightly wounded soldiers went limping to the rear,
seeking surgical aid; while badly wounded men were eagerly caught up and
borne off the field by their "comrades in battle" or by white-livered
recreants, anxious to desert their braver companions and place
themselves in safety. A certain percentage of such craven-hearted libels
on humanity--let it be said here--are always to be found in every army
and on every battle-field, dusky backgrounds against which brave men
show the brighter, and ever ready to take advantage of any circumstance
that will help them to the rear. In the armies of the older and more
warlike nations of Europe, where the reins of discipline are much more
tightly drawn than in our own, such skulking is prevented by
regularly-organized ambulance-parties and by the prompt shooting down of
any officer or soldier, not wounded, who dares to leave the ranks
without orders. Even in our own service, a Taylor is occasionally found,
fighting such a desperate battle as that of the Bad Axe against the
Indians, and posting a line of his most reliable troops in the rear,
with orders to make short work of the skulkers. Such discipline as
this--an enemy in front and an equally dangerous body of friends behind,
is generally found efficacious even for the weakest knees; and but few
hours of such experience are necessary to produce a marked-change in the
steadiness of any corps under fire.
Noon now approached, and the battle had raged for more than two hours,
without any intermission except the occasional lulls when batteries were
limbered up and dragged off at a gallop to new positions, and when
regiments deployed in line or closed in column, making evolutions to the
flanks or movements to the front. Attacks had been fiercely made on
every portion of the Union lines by the maddened rebels--maddened, as
was afterwards discovered, by the gunpowdered whiskey in their canteens;
and they had been quite as fiercely repulsed by the loyal troops, who
neither needed nor received any such stimulus. This defence had been
materially assisted, and the Federal troops enabled to gain ground at
every repulse of the rebels, by the arrival of several regiments of
infantry and two of his best batteries, sent in haste by McClellan from
his main position at Malvern Hill, so soon as the roar of artillery
announced that the fight had fairly begun with the rear-guard.
A little before meridian, the musket fire of the enemy slackened
perceptibly, while their artillery, operating against the Union left,
seemed to redouble its fury. This change was at once made known to
Porter, who as quickly divined the intention of Longstreet. This was to
engage all attention with the Federal left, while several of his
divisions, passing rapidly through roadways and obscure paths in the
woods known only to the native Virginians, were to take the right wing
in flank. Porter immediately directed counter movements to meet
them--movements admirably calculated and as admirably executed. Burns,
with his own and two other brigades, moved rapidly to the right and
deployed in line opposite the edge of the white oaks from which the
rebels must emerge to make their attack. Four batteries went up at a
trot and took position where they were masked by a fringe of bushes and
some patches of tall corn. From this point the artillery could
concentrate a terrible fire of grape, canister and short-fuse shell upon
any part of the opposite woods from which the enemy might make their
appearance. The infantry were ordered to lie down, and were concealed
from view by clumps of trees, corn and underbrush. This repelling force
was not kept long in suspense, and it was evident that the movement had
not been made a moment too soon for safety. Suddenly from the shadow of
the white-oaks, out came the Confederates by regiments, without tap of
drum or bugle-call, pouring from the various openings in double-quick
time, and by the right and left flanks. They filed rapidly right and
left until the woods were cleared; then by a halt and face-to-the-front
they were brought quickly into line of battle. A halt of very brief
space to align and close up ranks, and they were ordered forward to the
attack. On they came, in close order and with long swaying lines,
exulting in the prospect of a successful issue to their bold movement,
and so confident that they would take the Federal flank and rear by
complete surprise, that silence was no longer felt to be necessary and
yells and shouts of triumph were beginning to burst from one portion and
another of their line. Still on they came, and not a shot had been fired
on either side since they emerged from the woods. Their left was thrown
forward in advance of the centre and right, as if seeking to surround
the positions supposed to be held by the Federal troops. They were even
allowed to advance within pistol-shot of some portions of the ambuscade,
before the trap laid for them was sprung.
Then what a change!--like that when the thunder-storm, long gathering
but still silent, breaks at once into desolating fury. It seemed as if
at one and the same instant the four Union batteries opened, and a
terrible concentrating storm of flame and projectiles leaped from the
muzzles of twenty-four pieces of artillery and burst upon their centre
with devastating effect. In an instant after, the infantry sprung to
their feet, and a sheet of fire burst from right to left, one deadly and
irresistible shower of lead sweeping through the rebel ranks that had so
little expected such a reception. They hesitated--halted--recoiled.
Before they could recover from the awful shock, volley after volley was
poured into their wavering lines, and they could not again be brought
forward. On the instant when their discomfiture was clearly perceived, a
charge was ordered against them. The Union men dashed forward, glad to
have that order at last, and breaking into ringing cheers--the first in
which they had indulged that day. The rebels could not stand a moment
before that impetuous onset, but broke and ran for the cover of the
white-oaks, leaving the ground of the conflict almost impassable with
the terrible piles of their dead and wounded.
A general advance of our lines was now ordered, and the command was
obeyed with alacrity. The rebel front, weakened by the withdrawal of so
many troops for the grand flanking movement, gave way before they could
be reached with the steel; and their three-deep lines became mixed up in
the most hopeless disorder. Kearney's division made a gallant charge, in
this movement, Sickles' Excelsior Brigade once more evidencing that
splendid steadiness with the bayonet which had been so conspicuous at
Williamsburgh and Fair Oaks. General Heintzelman joined in this
brilliant advance, his tall form and blue blouse conspicuous as he rode
rapidly along the lines, speaking words of cheer and steadying the men
who did not need urging forward.
The Union batteries had meanwhile kept up their terrible fire, while
those of the enemy were silenced one after another and drawn off with
the recoiling troops, with the exception of one battery, which
maintained its fire with invincible obstinacy. It was felt that this
battery must be taken or silenced. A stream of men in dingy French blue
were seen to leap forward, and it was known that the Excelsior boys were
making a dash at the battery. The gunners saw the movement, began to
limber up their pieces and succeeded in galloping away with four of
them. But the two remaining guns could not be handled quickly enough,
and the Excelsiors took them with a rush and a cheer, and in such
excellent spirits that one of them was the moment after sitting astride
of each gun and waving his cap in token of victory. The battle-flag of
one of the Georgia regiments, and three hundred prisoners, were also
captured in this gallant dash, which effectually showed how little the
spirits of the Army of the Potomac had been damped by recent
misfortunes. General Heintzelman lost his horse by the last fire of one
of the captured pieces, and at the same time received a wound in the
arm--fortunately not serious. The repulse of the rebels was now
complete. Longstreet was compelled to "retire" and not by any means in
"good order," leaving the field with its dead and wounded, and many arms
and other trophies, in the possession of the Federal forces.
Of course this success could not be followed up, the object of the
battle having been to secure an uninterrupted line of march to the James
River. And of course the Union generals were well aware that while the
rebels possessed any remaining strength, they would not give up their
cherished object of crippling or destroying the main body before it
could reach the shelter of the river and the gun-boats. Fresh troops
would be brought up; and but little time would be allowed the Federal
troops to recover from the fatigue and excitement of that arduous
morning. The rebel plan evidently was to give the Federal forces no
rest--to precipitate fresh masses of their own troops continually upon
them, when weary and exhausted with previous fighting; and when they
were at last fairly worn out and incapable of further exertion, to
"gobble them up" (to use an expressive, though not elegant phrase) or
destroy them in detail and at leisure. The theory was admirable, and
both brain and heart were necessary to prevent its being carried out in
successful practice.
The Federal dead were buried on the field where they had so bravely
fallen; the wounded were sent on to Harrison's Landing; the slaughtered
rebels were left to the tender care of their approaching comrades; the
prisoners were gathered together and put properly under guard; and then
the army-corps of General Fitz-John Porter fell back under previous
orders to the strong position of Malvern Hill proper, where McClellan
was certain he would at once be attacked by the rebels in force, its
possession being the most important point in their plan of action, and
its triumphant retention one of the most important in his own.
The first battle of Malvern was ended; but the curtain was soon to rise
on a still more fearful scene of slaughter and one yet more uneven in
its character as regarded the losses of the Union army and the rebels.
The main position occupied by McClellan was a splendid one for defence;
and, thanks to what De Joinville calls the "happy foresight of the
General, who, notwithstanding all the hindrances presented by the nature
of the soil to his numerous artillery, had spared no pains to bring it
with him"--the preparations for holding that position were magnificently
adequate. The extreme right flank was comparatively narrow, and as it
was a point liable to a determined attack, strong earth-works had been
hastily thrown up entirely across it, and it had been further protected
by a thick, impenetrable mass of abattis, the materials for which were
so plentifully furnished by the Virginia woods and in the construction
of which the quasi-mechanical army was rapidly efficient. The left was
protected by the James River and the terror-inspiring gun-boats. In
front the hill sloped gently down to the Charles City and Richmond road,
and other points by which the enemy must debouch to begin the attack.
On this natural plateau not less than three hundred pieces of
artillery--a number fabulous in any preceding struggle in the history of
the world--were placed in battery; so arranged that they would not
interfere With the fire of the infantry along the natural glacis up
which the assailants would be obliged to advance unsheltered. In the
skirts of the woods lying beyond the foot of the hills, long lines of
rifle-pits had been dug--these, and the woods beyond, occupied by a
brigade of Maine and Wisconsin infantry and a portion of Berdan's
celebrated regiment, to act as sharp-shooters.
The sun was sinking rapidly westward in the direction of Richmond--that
coveted capital of Secessia, for the possession of which so much blood
and treasure had been unavailingly expended; the trees, which for so
many hours had afforded no shelter from the blinding blaze, except
immediately beneath their spreading branches and dust-dimmed leaves,
began to cast long shadows eastward; and the fervent heat began to be
more sensibly tempered by the breeze creeping in from the placid James.
Still the Union troops were resting on their arms, weary but undaunted,
awaiting the approach of the Confederates, then (at five o'clock)
reported as advancing to the attack. The line was formed as follows: the
remnants of Porter's and Sumner's corps on the right; Franklin and
Heintzelman in the centre; and Couch's division of Keyes' corps on the
left. In position, on the left, were two New York batteries, Robertson's
United States battery of six pieces, Allen's Massachusetts and Kern's
Pennsylvania batteries. Griffin's United States battery, Weeden's Rhode
island, and three from New York, held positions in the centre. On the
right were Tidball's, Weed's and Carlisle's regular batteries, a German
battery of twenty-four pounders, a battery belonging to the Pennsylvania
reserve, and one New York battery--in all about eighty pieces.
Within a few minutes of five the signal officers at the various stations
waved their telegraphic bunting, announcing the approach of the rebels
under Magruder, and immediately afterwards they appeared in sight, in
large dense masses reaching apparently quite across the country to the
West, North-west and West-south-west,--with cavalry on either flank and
artillery thickly scattered at various points, all along their line.
Stretching away from the foot of Malvern Hill, in the hostile direction,
lay a large open space known as Carter's Field--a field destined that
day to be more thickly sown with dead than almost any historic spot on
the globe except some portions of the field of Waterloo or that of
Grokow. It was a mile long by three quarters of a mile in breadth,
enclosed by thick woods on the three distant sides, while that towards
the Hill was open. On the two sides flanking the enemy's approach our
sharp-shooters were principally concealed. Entirely across Carter's
Field stretched the rebel line, while in depth their columns extended so
far back that the eye of the signal officer lost them in a wavering line
far away in the thick woods extending beyond the scene of the morning's
battle.
The Union forces rose up wearily but steadily, and awaited the approach
of the Confederate host, known to be at least twice or thrice their own
number, and led on by that sanguinary commander otherwise described by a
writer who accompanied him through all his battles in the United States
service and thoroughly knows his habits of speech and action,[13]--as
"the flowery and ever-thirsty John Bankhead Magruder--the pet of
_Newport_ and the petter of _old wine_." The rebels moved forward in
good order; slowly at first, and then, as if spurred on irresistibly
from behind in all parts of the field, the whole dingy-gray mass broke
from the "common time" step into that "dog-trot" known in the tactics of
the present day as the "double-quick." At the same moment they broke
into those shrieks of horrible dissonance, remarked in the fight of the
morning, rising even above the din of the opening artillery, and more
resembling the whoops of the copper-skinned warriors of the renegade
Albert Pike, than soldiers of what is called a Christian nation, led on
by a commander believing himself the very "pink of chivalry."
[Footnote 13: White--"Mexican War Sketches."]
Gallantly, it must be owned by all who saw the movement, did the
gray-clads spring forward to the encounter, rushing over the field at
an accelerating speed which soon increased to a full run. Then and not
till then again burst the deadly storm of defence. From the Federal
lines across the hill there belched murderous blasts of grape and
canister into their front, and from the rifle-pits and woods went
shrieking showers of rifle shots and Minie balls into their flanks, the
two terrible influences almost sweeping them away like leaves caught by
the gale. They fell by hundreds at a discharge, encumbering the ground
and leaving wide gaps in their ranks; yet still their dense columns
closed again and dashed resolutely up, until more than two-thirds the
distance across Carter's Field was accomplished. Here the carnage, from
the combined effects of artillery and small-arms at short range, became
absolutely terrible among the rebels--such a spectacle as even loyal
soldiers, gazing at it, could not but feel to be a species of wholesale
murder for which the cause could no more than give excuse. The bones in
the rebel regiments seemed to be crushed like window-glass in a
hailstorm; masses of gory pulp that had but a few moments before been
men, began to form an absolute coating for the ground; and the fierce
yells of attack had become awfully commingled with the shrieks of those
mangled beyond endurance and dying in agony. It was too much for human
bravery to withstand--probably no troops in the world would have stood
longer under that withering fire, than the brave but misguided tools of
the secession heresy. Their lines began to waver with a ricketty,
swaying motion, to and fro, as if the whole body was one man and he was
exhausted and tottering; then there-was a movement to the "right about,"
and the whole head of the column sought hasty shelter under the friendly
woods in the rear, from which they had so lately debouched.
A terrific artillery-duel proper was now commenced, and kept up for more
than an hour, the Confederates showing no disposition to renew the
attack, and the Federal forces contented to hold them at bay under
circumstances in which the balance of damage by artillery must be so
largely in their own favor. Then came a sudden lull in the storm, during
which the Confederates made preparations to capture the flanking
rifle-pits of the Federals, which had annoyed them so severely in the
charge. Several desperate attempts were made upon them in quick
succession, and they were taken and retaken repeatedly. In the end,
however, they were permanently held by the defenders, whose stubborn
pluck, aided by the enfilading fire of the advanced batteries, proved
more than a match for the determined bravery of the attacking forces.
On the summit of Malvern Hill, and nearly in the middle of the plateau
formed by the whole eminence, stands a red brick mansion-house, quaintly
built, antique and sombre. The house is of two stories, long and low.
Solemn shade-trees surround it; and corn and wheat fields stretch away
from the Virginia fences of its spacious yard, down the slope of the
hill and across the lowland to the margin of the James. In time of
peace, this old house boasted a most charming situation, and the view
from the verandah was one of the very finest in the country, taking in
at a glance the long line of the winding river for many miles in either
direction, and looking up the river, the high range of bluffs on the
other side on which has been erected that serious obstacle to an advance
on Richmond by water--Fort Darling. At the eastern end of the mansion
stand the inevitable "negro-quarters," now empty and deserted, and with
nothing about them to remind one of their former dusky denizens, except
that unmistakable odor which supplies an obvious parody on Moore's aroma
of the roses in the broken vase. Opposite the west end of the house is a
deep, roof-covered well; and around this crowds of the wounded and
thirsty Union soldiers were continually gathered during the fight,
drinking in, as fast as permitted, that sweetest as well as freest of
Nature's blessings--water.
On the west gable of this mansion, on the afternoon of the battle, a
signal-officer was stationed, with his ten-foot staff and odd-shaped
parti-colored yard of muslin, and his field-glass. His view extended far
in the direction of Richmond, taking in the various camps of Wise's
Legion, Jackson's and Huger's divisions, and others of the rebel forces;
while riverwards his eye could easily reach, with the aid of the glass
and when the smoke of the field did not arise too thickly, the famed
Drury's Bluff and the redoubtable Fort Darling itself, still frowning
defiance at the threatening little Monitor.
The failure to take the rifle-pits had been followed by a second lull,
betokening, to the experienced soldier, fresh rebel preparations for an
attack in another quarter. Suddenly, when the sun was just sending the
last of its rays through the murky clouds of the battle-field, as if in
indication that the eye of heaven had not wholly deserted the
brotherhood of Cain,--the Federal signal-officers in the distance waved
their flags, and other signal-officers in the vicinity repeated their
motions. These pantomimic exhibitions, mysterious to the unpractised
eye, told to the officers in command, that the Confederates, strongly
reinforced by the fresh troops of Jackson and Huger, and their troops
inspired by fresh draughts of the maddening gunpowdered whiskey, were
being marshalled for another and final attack upon the Federal position.
But a few moments elapsed before the roar of the Confederate batteries
gave proof that this warning had not been in vain. Every piece they
could bring to bear sent its missiles of death hurtling into the Union
lines, the next charge to be made under cover of that cannonade. But
probably even they had not calculated upon such a reply as was given by
the artillery of McClellan. Never before, since war became a science of
butchery, did so many pieces thunder at once upon the devoted ranks of
any attacking force. Never before were the very peals of the artillery
of heaven so terribly rivalled. Only a portion of the Union guns had
before been brought into play: now nearly the whole three hundred
belched forth their deadly defiance in crashing and booming repetitions.
Those who heard the sound will never forget it; nor will many of them
live to hear that sound repeated. Far away among the mountains, a
hundred and fifty miles distant, the boom of that terrible cannonade was
heard, announcing the conflict to loyalist and rebel who had no other
means of knowing that it was in progress. At times the firm earth shook
with the continued reverberations, as if an earthquake was passing; and
combatants even stood still in the very face of the deadliest danger,
under a momentary impression that some fearful convulsion of nature must
be in progress and that the sinking sun must be going down on the last
day of a crumbling earth.
The rebel artillery was skilfully managed, and their range proved to be
excellent; while the management and effect of the Union guns can only be
described by one word--magnificent. The superior weight and management
of the Federal metal was manifest from one fact if no other--the
continual limbering up and changing positions of the rebel pieces, to
escape the deadly aim of artillerymen who have probably never been
excelled in any service. The only historian who has as yet dealt with
the events of that great day,[14] says that it was "madness for the
Confederates to rush against such obstacles," and that during the entire
day, owing to the weight and superior management of the Federal
artillery, they fought "without for a single moment having a chance of
success." And yet this was the artillery of an army, and this was the
army itself, spoken of by detractors as "defeated" and "demoralized,"
and utterly incapable of further offensive movements against Richmond,
however rested and reinforced!
[Footnote 14: De Joinville.]
Under cover of the smoke of this fire, the mighty hosts of Huger,
Jackson and Magruder advanced to the second general assault. Onward they
rushed, and, emerging from the sulphurous clouds, rolled forward in
heavy columns. They presented a still more imposing front than at the
first attack, stretching more than half a mile across the fatal Carter's
Field, with scarce a break or an interval in its entire length. On they
pressed--steadily, resolutely, desperately--pausing an instant to pour
in their fire, and then forward again at quick step. The advance was met
with belching volumes from rifles, muskets and batteries, sending such
storms of "leaden rain and iron hail" as no body of men on earth could
hope to withstand, and joining with the shrieks and shouts of the
combatants and the dying, to create such a din as might well have given
the impression that the chains of Pandemonium were unloosed and all the
lost replying to the thunders of heaven with screams of blasphemy and
desperation.
At this moment, too, a new element of terror and destruction broke
suddenly into the conflict. As if the powers of the air had indeed begun
to take part in the struggle, fiery meteors fell out of the air, from a
direction not commanded by the Federal batteries--fiery meteors before
which whole ranks of men seemed like stubble before the scythe. One of
them would fall hissing through the air, burst with a horrible
explosion, and the moment after nothing would remain of the ranks of
rebels within thirty or forty feet of it, but a mass of shattered and
mangled fragments, limbs torn from limbs and heads from bodies. At first
the rebels could not understand the meaning of this new and awful
visitation, and even the Union troops were not for the time aware what
new power had come to their aid, destroying more of the enemy at a blow
than their heaviest and best-served batteries. But the signal officer on
the gable of the old mansion on Malvern Hill saw, and soon communicated
the fact to the officers in command--that the gun-boats Galena and
Aroostook (not the Monitor, as has been sometimes reported), had steamed
up from their anchorage at Curl's Neck, two miles below, and opened
furious broadsides of shell from their heavy rifled guns. These shells
were the terrible missiles working that untold destruction in the rebel
ranks; and the horrors and dangers of the fight to them must have been
intensely aggravated by these fiery monsters that came tearing and
shrieking through the forest and exploded with concussions that shook
the earth like discharges from whole batteries. Only after the battle
was over could the ravages made by this agency be fully appreciated,
from the effects produced on natural objects lying in the line of their
course. In many places, avenues rods long and many feet in width, were
cut through the tree-tops and branches; and in not a few instances,
great trees, three and four feet in diameter, were burst open from
branch to root, split to shreds and scattered in splinters in all
directions.
Panting, swearing, whooping and bleeding, the Confederate lines had been
pushed on, until they had reached a point nearly as far in advance as in
the former attack. But here, beneath the storm of canister, case-shot
and grape-shot, solid-shot, shell and musketry, human endurance failed
and even the madness of intoxication grew useless. The hurricane of
metal was too deadly for mortal man to withstand. No efforts could urge
them further forward; and finding it impossible to run to the end that
gauntlet of iron and lead, they once more wavered and broke, faced about
and sought the shelter of the woods, leaving Carter's Field burdened
with its second terrible harvest of death for that day--the dead in
actual heaps and winrows, and the wounded one mere struggling, writhing
and groaning mass.
But why repeat the story that has no variety except in horror? Again and
again, with fresh troops flung every time to the front, that mad attempt
to carry Malvern Hill was repeated and repulsed. An attack--a repulse;
and each time with added but never-varied slaughter. The consumption of
raw spirits among the rebel ranks must have been enormous during the
day; for every rebel canteen found on the field had been filled with
that maddening compound, with or without the fiendish addition of the
sulphur and nitre of gunpowder. Their attacks were like the rolling of
billows toward a beach: their waves of battle swept up with raging
fierceness, but broke and receded at every dash; and, like the waves
when the tide is fast ebbing, the surging lines broke farther off at
each advance. The attack on Malvern Hill had failed--at what a fearful
expenditure of valor and courage on the part of the Union troops, only
those who participated can ever know;--and at what a cost of life to the
rebels, only that Eye which looked down from a greater height than that
of the signal-officer on the gable of the old mansion, could have power
to measure!
During the last of these rebel attacks, the gun-boats were signalled to
cease firing, lest their shells might prove equally fatal to friends and
foes; and the Union forces were ordered to prepare for an advance, as
Porter had determined to act, temporarily at least, on the offensive,
and thus crown the events of a day which had been virtually one of
splendid victory for the Union arms. Just when the rebels were halting
and wavering under the effects of the renewed artillery fire poured out
to meet them, Burns', Meagher's, Dana's and French's brigades, of the
right, were ordered to charge. The order did not come too soon for the
brave fellows who had been chafing like caged lions at the necessity of
fighting all day on the defensive. Right gallantly and with ringing
cheers did they spring forward, until within a hundred yards of the
enemy, when they halted and sent a scorching fire of musketry directly
into their faces. Couch's division on the left had been thrown forward
almost at the same moment, and the order was obeyed with equal alacrity
and effect. Then the whole line was ordered to advance, and away they
went with ringing shouts, like so many confined school-boys suddenly let
out for an hour's play, but going, alas!--to a game of "ball" that
entailed death on many of the players.
The brave Irishmen of Meagher were already in the advance, blazing and
chopping away with that indomitable good humor which seems to be the
normal condition of the Hibernian when fairly launched into his darling
fight. In this general advance Duryea's blue, red and baggy Zouaves led
the way, as they had done in many a fight before, and always with
success,--dashing savagely on the foe with ear-splitting shouts peculiar
to themselves, and borrowed from the well-known war-cry of the
corresponding regiments in the French service. The long Federal line of
bristling steel pushed on at double-quick with irresistible force; and
it was only for an instant that any portion of the Confederate line
stood to meet it. At last discouraged and appalled--perhaps as much by
the appearance and the war-cry of the never-defeated Zouaves as by any
other agency that could have been brought to bear upon them,--they first
wavered in front, then grew unsteady in the main body, and at last broke
and fled in confusion and indecent haste, seeking once more the shelter
of the woods from which they were no more to emerge as an attacking
party.
The Federal troops were not allowed to follow them to the woods, night
falling and the commander being indisposed to allow his exhausted troops
any further exertion. The rebels left, in this last attack, several
dismounted pieces of artillery, many blown-up caissons, and thousands of
small arms, besides a thousand unhurt prisoners and a field literally
covered with dead and wounded. The battle of Malvern Hill was over,
though the rebel artillery continued to belch at intervals until after
ten o'clock at night, the Federal advanced batteries replying to every
fire. At length, and when the still summer night had thus far fallen on
the late scene of conflict, the last rebel shot was sullenly fired, the
last response was made by the Federal gunners, and the long conflict
ceased. The baffled and beaten rebels, who had certainly fought with
bravery and determination worthy of a better cause, fell back behind the
sheltering woods and commenced their final retreat towards Richmond,
having received at last a satisfactory taste of the quality yet
remaining in the outnumbered, harrassed, but never-discouraged and
ever-dangerous Army of the Potomac.
Owing to the fact that this battle was so largely an artillery-duel, as
has before been remarked, the opportunities for the display or
observation of personal bravery were comparatively limited, and mostly
confined to a short period towards the close of the battle. That the
Union troops would have shown the same personal dash and daring
throughout, had the plan of the General in command made hand-to-hand
fighting advisable--was fully proved by the short conflict which closed
the day. In that short period occupied by the advance of the two wings
and afterwards of the main body, two or three incidents occurred, which
some of the combatants will yet remember when their attention is thus
called to them, and without which this battle-picture, necessarily very
defective, and aiming much more at truth than sensation, would be found
almost destitute of details.
In the first advance, no less than three color-bearers, carrying the
same flag of one of the regiments of Meagher's Irish brigade, were shot
down within less than five minutes. When the third fell, a Lieutenant in
the color-company of the same regiment, who had not many months before
deserted the mock combats of the stage for the sanguinary fights of
actual warfare, concluded to try _his_ success at carrying the dangerous
bunting. He seized the staff and held it, himself untouched, for several
minutes, while bullets were actually riddling the flag. At the end of
that time a stalwart Irishman, finding his rifle-barrel heated and the
ramrod jammed in attempting to load, made two or three ineffectual jerks
at the rod, found that it was impossible to remove it; then grasped the
weapon by the muzzle, whirled it half a dozen times around his head,
bringing the butt down in each instance with crushing force, on the head
of a foe; and finally, giving it another and longer whirl, with a wild
"Whooruh!" that might have originated among the bogs of Connaught, sent
it whirling among the enemy with such force that it literally plowed its
way through them and left a perceptible track of fallen foemen. "Be the
Hill of Howth!" roared Paddy, when he had completed this exploit. "It's
meself hasn't the bit of a muskit left to fight wid at all at all! Here,
Captain!" to the Lieutenant holding the flag, "it's meself should be
houldin' that, and not you!" and at the word he grasped the staff out of
the officer's hands and plunged still farther forward among the enemy
with it, than it had before been carried by either of the bearers,
coming out of the fight at last without a scratch.
At very nearly the same time, and at the point in the rebel front
assailed by Meagher's brigade, another scene was presented, perhaps
unexampled in the history of war. A Georgia regiment (Georgia has sent
out some of the very best and most determined fighters of the whole
rebel army) was in the front and immediately opposed to the jolly New
York Irishmen. The evening being a hot one, most of the Irish boys had
prepared themselves for the charge by throwing off knapsacks, coats, and
even hats, so as to "fight asier." Their habit of doing this, by the
way, in hot weather and in the excitement of battle, has not only cost
the government a round sum for new clothing and equipments, but given
many opportunities to the Confederates for boasting of a victory when
they had won nothing of the kind. They have regarded the thrown-away
coats and knapsacks as evidence of a panic and a rout, when the fact is
that they have only evidenced Paddy's desire, quoted above, to "fight
asy."
In the present instance, Capt. S----, a young Irishman, of Meagher's
Brigade, a fire-boy and a gymnast, was surrounded by a knot of his
fellows, and they were making good progress in driving back the Georgia
regiment, when the Captain encountered the Major of the Georgians.
Whether something in the eye of each defied the other, will perhaps
never be known; but certain it is that Captain S---- sprung for a
single combat with the Major, and that the Major, quite as willing,
sprung forward with a corresponding intention. A few passes were made
with the sword by each, and then both seemed to forget the use of the
weapon. In half a minute swords were dropped, and the two combatants
were clenched, pounding away with their _fists_! Something after the
manner of the armies of old time when two great warriors met
single-handed, the combatants on both sides seemed to stand still for
the moment and look on at this singular struggle--this novelty in deadly
war. Captain S---- was the heavier man, but the Georgia Major the
nimbler, and they seemed very well matched. The Confederates were giving
way on either side, and the Georgia regiment must necessarily retreat
decidedly in a moment. The effort of Captain S---- accordingly seemed to
be directed to first "knocking" the Major "out of time," and then making
a captive of him; while probably the Major had no fancy for that
termination of the affair. At length the rush came from behind and on
either side, and the whole group were irresistibly borne backward. Some
of the Georgia soldiers grasped the Major from behind, and attempted to
drag him off. Some of the Irishmen rushed forward to assist in holding
him. In a minute more, not two men, but dozens, were engaged in a
fist-fight, not a weapon being used. Directly Captain S---- managed to
get in a blow under the chin of the Major, and in the neighborhood of
the gullet, which sent him backwards nearly insensible. As he fell he
kicked with mechanical force, and the kick striking the Captain in the
lower abdomen, "doubled him up" effectually. The Georgians were still
laboring to save their commander from capture, and Captain S---- and his
men to take him, or _as much as they could of him_. The _finale_ was
that the Georgia Major was lugged off and rescued by his men, and that
Captain S----, clinging to him with the proverbial Kilkenny tenacity,
succeeded in dragging off him his coat, sword and belts, and
revolver,--leaving the foe very much in the condition of his own
men--that of shirt and trowsers.
It is a somewhat pitiful conclusion to this little reminiscence of
S----'s odd adventure, that the next morning, in his tent, showing the
captured weapons to one of his comrades, the revolver went off
accidentally and blew the Captain's left arm to fragments! Such are the
chances of war--a soldier escaping unhurt amid a very rain of destroying
missiles, and meeting wounds and disablement from a trifling accident in
a moment of fancied security!
The third incident of that day, and still more notable than either of
the others, occurred on the left while the incidents previously recorded
were taking place on the right and in the centre. When Couch's division
were just advancing to the attack and at the very moment when the
conflict began to grow close and deadly, some of the men in the front,
and the rebels as well, witnessed a spectacle equally startling and
unexplainable. A figure in white burst suddenly through from the Union
rear to the front, prostrating a dozen men with the irresistible
rapidity of the movement; and then it sprung into the very thick of the
rebels and commenced its most singular and primitive warfare. Of the
hundreds who unavoidably saw the apparition (for apparition it certainly
seemed) not one will ever forget it or remember it without a shudder.
The figure was that of a very tall man, evidently of immense natural
strength, with a face shrunk to skeleton thinness and terrible staring
eyes rendered more fearful by the heavy red beard and long matted hair.
It was dressed in what appeared to be white trousers, but barefoot; and
its upper clothing seemed to be a shirt beneath and a loose flowing
white robe hanging from the shoulders. In its hand this terrible figure
carried a club of green sapling oak, heavily knotted at the end, about
five feet in length, two inches in diameter at the butt and tapering to
where it was grasped at the lower end. A more effective weapon in close
combat could not be devised; and with this weapon, and with fierce yells
that seemed like those emanating from the throat of an infuriate madman,
this strange combatant began laying about him in the rebel ranks,
crushing heads, breaking arms, and killing and disabling scores of armed
men. No sword could reach him, and no bullet appeared to strike him,
though dozens of the rebels discharged muskets and even revolvers at
him, at close range, when it began to be apparent on which side he was
fighting. Up went that mighty flail, and down it came again on the heads
of the human tares of rebeldom who so needed threshing out in the very
garner of wrath. More than one of the Union men in the vicinity of the
strange spectacle, who happened to have been classic readers in other
days, gazing at the white figure and its terrible prowess, thought of
Castor and Pollux and the apparitions in white which decided the battle
on the shore of Lake Regilius, when the Thirty Cities warred against
Rome. But there was nothing of the supernatural in this figure; for
after a few moments of wonderful immunity in the midst of that plunging
fire, and after a destruction of life which seemed really wonderful to
be accomplished by one single man,--fate withdrew the shield which had
been interposed before him. The great club was full uplifted in the air,
when the combatants saw him suddenly waver and stagger, then saw the
deadly weapon drop, a stream of spouting blood from the wounded breast
gush over the white garment, and that tall figure and ghastly face sink
downward to the earth, one last long yell, wilder and more fearful than
any that had preceded it, sounding the signal of his death, and the
battle again going on over the trampled body.
It was not until hours after that the mystery of the white figure was
fully explained. The poor fellow had been a soldier of one of the
Western regiments, ill with fever, and sent on to Harrison's Landing
with the first of the troops who reached the James. In his delirium he
had no doubt heard the booming of the cannon in the morning attack, and
gathered the impression that a battle must be going on and that _he_
should not be absent. He had managed, by some means, to elude the guards
and the few hospital nurses yet spared to the army; had escaped from the
temporary hospital, barefoot and clothed only in his white drawers,
shirt, and a sheet thrown around his shoulders; had made his way,
unseen, through the woods and over the marshes lying between Harrison's
Landing and Malvern; had provided himself probably by means of his still
remaining jack-knife, with that singular but fatal weapon of offence;
and then, nerved with fictitious strength by his fever and the sights
and sounds of battle raging before him, he had rushed into the conflict
as before described, dying a death more noble than the lingering decay
of fever, after working such destruction among the rebel ranks as he
might never have been able to do in the pride of his health and manhood.
And here this extended picture of one of the most important battles ever
yet fought on this continent, must close, except so far as in
side-issues connected with it may happen to be involved some of the
persons more intimately concerned in the progress of this relation.