Meade’s rear brigade was now brought up and deployed on the left of the first, in the direction of the Massaponax, thus further extending the front.
The leading brigade made straight for the tongue of woodland which interposed between Lane and Archer. As they neared the Confederate line, the Pennsylvanians, masked by the trees, found that they were no longer exposed to fire, and that the coppice was unoccupied. Quickly crossing the border, through swamp and undergrowth they pushed their way, and, bursting from the covert to the right, fell on the exposed flank of Lane’s brigade. The fight was fierce, but the Southerners were compelled to give ground, for neither Archer nor Gregg was able to lend assistance.
Meade’s second brigade, though following close upon the first, had, instead of conforming to the change of direction against Lane’s flank, rushed forward through the wood. Two hundred paces from the embankment it came in contact with Archer’s left, which was resting on the very edge of the coppice. The Confederates were taken by surprise. Their front was secured by a strong skirmish line; but on the flank, as the thickets appeared impenetrable, neither scouts nor pickets had been thrown out, and the men were lying with arms piled. Two regiments, leaping to their feet and attempting to form line to the left, were broken by a determined charge, and gave way in disorder. The remainder, however, stood firm, for the Federals, instead of following up their success in this direction, left Archer to be dealt with by the third brigade of the division, which had now reached the railroad, and swept on towards the military road, where Gregg’s brigade was drawn up within the forest. So thick was the cover, and so limited the view, that General Gregg, taking the advancing mass for part of Archer’s line retiring, restrained the fire of his men. The Federals broke upon his right. He himself fell mortally wounded. His flank regiment, a battalion of conscripts, fled, except one company, without firing a shot. The two regiments on the opposite flank, however, were with great readiness turned about, and changing front inwards, arrested the movement of the enemy along the rear.
The Federals had now been joined by a portion of the first brigade, inspirited by their victory over Lane, and the moment, to all appearance, seemed critical in the extreme for the Confederates. To the left rear of the attacking column, Meade’s third brigade was held in check by Walker’s batteries and the sturdy Archer, who, notwithstanding that a strong force had passed beyond his flank, and had routed two of his regiments, still resolutely held his ground, and prevented his immediate opponents from joining the intruding column. To the right rear, opposite Pender, Gibbon’s division had been checked by the fire of the great battery near Bernard’s Cabin; two of his brigades had been driven back, and the third had with difficulty gained the shelter of the embankment. So from neither left nor right was immediate support to be expected by Meade’s victorious regiments. But on the Richmond road were the divisions of Birney and Newton, with Doubleday’s and Sickles’ not far in rear, and 20,000 bayonets might have been thrown rapidly into the gap which the Pennsylvanians had so vigorously forced. Yet Jackson’s equanimity was undisturbed. The clouds of smoke and the thick timber hid the fighting in the centre from his post of observation on Prospect Hill, and the first intimation of the enemy’s success was brought by an aide-de-camp, galloping wildly up the slope. “General,” he exclaimed in breathless haste, “the enemy have broken through Archer’s left, and General Gregg says he must have help, or he and General Archer will both lose their position.” Jackson turned round quietly, and without the least trace of excitement in either voice or manner, sent orders to Early and Taliaferro, in third line, to advance with the bayonet and clear the front. Then, with rare self-restraint, for the fighting instinct was strong within him, and the danger was so threatening as to have justified his personal interference, he raised his field-glasses and resumed his scrutiny of the enemy’s reserves on the Richmond road.
1.45 p.m. His confidence in his lieutenants was not misplaced. Early’s division, already deployed in line, came forward with a rush, and the Stonewall Brigade, responding with alacrity to Jackson’s summons, led the advance of Taliaferro.
The counterstroke was vigorous. Meade’s brigades had penetrated to the heart of the Confederate position, but their numbers were reduced to less than 2,000 bayonets; in the fierce fighting and dense thickets they had lost all semblance of cohesion, and not a single regiment had supported them. The men looked round in vain for help, and the forest around them resounded with the yells of the Confederate reinforcements. Assailed in front and flank by a destructive fire, the Pennsylvanians were rapidly borne back. Hill’s second line joined in Early’s advance. Gibbon was strongly attacked. Six brigades, sweeping forward from the forest, dashed down the slopes, and in a few moments the broken remnants of the Federal divisions were dispersing in panic across the plain. As the enemy fled the Confederate gunners, disregarding the shells of Franklin’s batteries, poured a heavy fire into the receding mass; and although instructions had been given that the counterstroke was not to pass the railroad, Hoke’s and Atkinson’s brigades,[[9]] carried away by success and deaf to all orders, followed in swift pursuit. Some of Birney’s regiments, tardily coming forward to Meade’s support, were swept away, and the yelling line of grey infantry, shooting down the fugitives and taking many prisoners, pressed on towards the Richmond road. There the remainder of Birney’s division was drawn up, protected by the breast-high bank, and flanked by artillery; yet it seemed for a moment as if the two Confederate brigades would carry all before them.
The troops of Meade and Gibbon were streaming in confusion to the rear. Two batteries had been abandoned, and before Hake’s onset the left of Birney’s infantry gave ground for fifty yards. But the rash advance had reached its climax. Unsupported, and with empty cartridge-boxes, the Southerners were unable to face the fire from the road; sixteen guns had opened on them with canister; and after suffering heavy losses in killed, wounded, and prisoners, they withdrew in disorder but unpursued.
The success of the Second Army Corps was greater than even Jackson realised. Meade and Gibbon had lost 4,000 officers and men; and it was not till late in the afternoon that they were rallied on the river bank. The casualties in Birney’s division swelled the total to 5,000, and the Confederate counterstroke had inflicted a heavier blow than the tale of losses indicates. Not only the troops which had been engaged, but those who had witnessed their defeat, who had seen them enter the enemy’s position, and who knew they should have been supported, were much disheartened.
2.30 p.m. At 2.30 p.m., soon after the repulse of Hake and Atkinson, Burnside, having just witnessed the signal failure of a fourth assault on Longstreet, sent an urgent order to Franklin to renew his attack. Franklin made no response. He had lost all confidence both in his superior and his men, and he took upon himself to disobey.
On the Confederate side Taliaferro and Early, with part of the Light Division, now held the railway embankment and the skirt of the woods. D. H. Hill was brought up into third line, and the shattered brigades of A. P. Hill were withdrawn to the rear. During the rest of the afternoon the skirmishers were actively engaged, but although Jackson’s victorious soldiery long and eagerly expected a renewal of the assault, the enemy refused to be again tempted to close quarters.