A splendid picture met the eye. Two miles distant Hooker was fighting the rebels on the other side of Fort Page. From the latter point the rebel artillery was playing upon his lines. Between Hancock and the fort were two lesser works, at intervals of half a mile. Their garrisons quickly retreated on seeing him, and retired on the main force—the movement before practiced on the left, and one which plainly indicated that the rebel force was too small to hold the line. But it was also evident, from the determined stand made in and near Fort Page, that the rear guard was under orders to make a desperate maintenance of its position.
Although Hancock had a regiment with him besides his own, yet his force was scarcely five thousand, all told, and totally separated from the main body. If overpowered in front, retreat would be utterly impossible through the narrow gorge behind them. General Keyes appeared on the field at this moment, and told General Hancock that he did not visit him to assume the command as ranking officer, but to see him, Hancock, “carry the left.” General Keyes at once sent back for a support of cavalry and artillery. This was about one o’clock in the afternoon. For some reason, General Sumner omitted ordering the reinforcements forward.
A regiment was soon in the enemy’s deserted works (No. 3 from York river). The old flag was raised with wild cheers from its parapet; and eight cannon were quickly unlimbered in the field beyond. A smaller, intermediate outwork was still held between this and Fort Magruder. In front of it a line of rebel skirmishers deployed, but were quickly dispersed and forced to retire. In five minutes the Union guns were playing, some on the great fort at six hundred yards distance, the rest on the woods to the north, through which the rebels were retreating on their main body.
Just then the clouds broke away in the west, and a flood of light came in upon the whole panorama. Nothing could be more beautiful and inspiriting. The deserted rebel forts, surmounted with Federal colors; Hancock’s infantry awaiting orders in battle line; a signal officer waving to the centre his flag-signals from the parapet of work No. 3; the long fire-belching, smoke-canopied curve of Fort Page in the distance; still further beyond, white flashes, and huge clouds of smoke appearing from Hooker’s battle-ground on the left, of whose desperate contest the stunning roll of musketry and roar of cannon gave true token—all these combined formed a broad battle-picture worthy of Varney.
Wheeler’s artillery fired with precision and rapidity for an hour, the fort answering gun for gun. But the rebel infantry seemed to have their hands full in managing Hooker, and as it was not yet practicable to storm the fort, the Union forces found little to do, and stood under fire of the artillery with small loss, awaiting a share in the business. It was not long in coming, and came in the shape which more than one observer had feared from the outset. It was preceded at four o’clock by one of those dead, ominous half hour pauses which so often make the decisive turn of an engagement. Many thought the enemy were retreating. Others, who have had occasion to dread these still and awful lapses from the bloody work of a field-day, prognosticated an unknown danger impending close at hand.
Suddenly there burst from the woods on the right flank a battalion of rebel cavalry! Then, to the right and left of the horse, three regiments of infantry supporting it!
But General Hancock was equal to the crisis. Forming his infantry against this sudden attack, he held them in magnificent order, while the rebel foot and horse came on, cheering, firing, and charging in gallant and imposing style. Wheeler’s battery turned and poured hot volleys into them as they came, and over five thousand muskets riddled them through and through. But they kept on—nearer—nearer—closing up, cheering, and sure of their power to sweep the Federals before them.
Thus they came, swifter than it can be told, until their line, now broken and irregular, was within two hundred yards of the unwavering columns. Then Hancock showed himself the coolest and bravest of the brave. Taking off his hat, and using the courtly prefix of the olden time, he said: “Ready, now! Gentlemen, CHARGE!” The whole line swept forward, as the reaper’s sickle rushes through the grain. Its keen edge had not yet touched the enemy, when his ranks broke simultaneously, fled in confusion to the rear, and the field of Williamsburg was won.
About five o’clock P. M. some excitement was caused in the rear, and soon an officer, with his staff, rode to the opening in the woods where he could get a view of the field. It was General McClellan. The moment he was seen, loud and deafening cheers rose up along the lines of the centre, and rolled away to the right and left, imparting a new enthusiasm to the forces. The chief officers were quickly consulted, and reinforcements were sent to the aid of Hancock and Hooker. Hancock’s brilliant and successful charge had already won the day on the right, and the effect of it in the panic and rout of the rebels was becoming sensibly felt in front of Hooker’s division, when the long-looked for assistance came to his side. The rebels promptly retired, and the desperate struggle of the day closed on a splendidly contested field. The men were compelled to bivouack on the ground, with the rain still falling, in proud anticipation of a renewal of the conflict in the morning.