"I am unwilling to slaughter my brigade," said General Cobb, "but, if you command me, I shall make the charge if my last man falls."
"I intend to make the charge, no matter what it costs," said Magruder.
The commanders went to their brigades, murmuring that Magruder was drunk, that it would be madness to make the attack.[45]
Magruder formed his line in the woods. Armistead's brigade moved upon the Union picket line and drove it back. "Advance rapidly, press forward your whole line, and follow up Armistead's successes. They are reported to be getting off," was Lee's message to Magruder.
It was past six o'clock before Mahone, Ransom, Wright, Jones, and Cobb were ready. At the word of command, fifteen thousand men move from the shelter of the woods and appear upon the open plain, moving in solid phalanx,—close, compact, shoulder to shoulder, to capture, by a desperate charge, the batteries upon the hillside. It is madness! Success has made them reckless.
With shoutings and howlings they break into a run. Instantly the hill is all aflame, from base to summit. Shells, shrapnel, and canister are poured upon them. There is the bellowing of a hundred cannon, mingled with the
multitudinous rattling of thousands of small arms.
The Rebel lines melt away,—whole squadrons tumbling headlong. In vain the effort, the men waver, turn, and disappear within the woods.
Magruder is furious at the failure. Again the attempt,—again the same result.
The sun is going down behind the hills when he makes his last effort. Meagher and Sickles go up from the right, and strengthen Porter's center. There is a shifting of batteries,—a movement to new positions,—a re-arranging of regiments. The artillery on both sides, and the gunboats, keep up a constant fire.