So complete was the repulse that the Rebel troops became a mob, and fled in terror towards Richmond.
"Many old soldiers," says a Rebel officer, "who had served on the plains of Arkansas and Missouri wept in the bitterness of their souls like children. Of what avail had it been to us that our best blood had flowed for six long days? Of what avail all of our unceasing and exhaustless endurance? Everything seemed lost, and a general depression came over all our hearts. Batteries dashed past in headlong flight. Ammunition, hospital, and supply wagons rushed along, and swept the troops away with them from the battle-field. In vain the most frantic exertions, entreaty, and self-sacrifice of the staff officers! The troops had lost their foothold, and all was over with the Southern Confederacy!"[43]
General Magruder's arrival alone saved Hill from an ignominious flight.
Through the night there was the red glare of torches upon the battle-field where the Rebel wounded were being gathered up. Great was the loss. Up to daylight there was no apparent diminution of the heart-rending cries and groans of the wounded. A mournful wail was heard from Glendale during that long, dismal night.[44]
THE BATTLE OF MALVERN.
The battle-field of July 1st, 1862, bears the pleasant name of Malvern. It is on the north bank of the James,—an elevated plain near the river, but declining gently towards the north,—divided into corn and wheat fields, bordered on the east and west and south by wooded ravines. The estate is owned by
Dr. Carter. Although it bears a name so pleasant, there have been sad scenes upon those fertile fields,—not alone the shock, roar, and horror of a great battle, but the low wail of mothers for their infants, torn from their arms and sold to slave-traders,—the agonies of men under torture of the whip, their flesh torn and mangled by an unfeeling master.
"Was he a good master?" I asked of an old negro at City Point, in July, 1864.
"No, sir. He was very bad, sir. He was de wussest dat eber was, sir. He was so bad dat we call him Hell Carter, sir. 'Cause we tink dat de Lord will send him to de bad place one ob dese days, sir. He go dere sure, sir."
The mansion is a quaint old structure, built of red bricks, surrounded by elms, and commanding a wide panorama of the James, of the valley of the Appomattox, and the distant Richmond hills.