On the 7th day of August, Crawford's brigade, of Banks' corps, had been pushed forward in the direction of Slaughter Mountain, to support General Bayard, whose brigade of cavalry was being driven back in that direction by the enemy; and on the 9th, to support this movement of Crawford, Banks was directed to take up a strong position a short distance in his rear. Rickett's division, of McDowell's corps, was posted three miles in rear of Banks' position, and within easy supporting distance.
Desultory artillery firing was kept up all day on the 9th; yet General Banks, apparently, did not think the enemy were in force, for, during the afternoon, he left the strong position which he had taken, by order of General Pope, and advanced to assault the enemy, believing that he could crush his advance before the main body came up.
The enemy was strongly posted, and sheltered by woods and ridges; while Banks had to pass over an open field, which was swept by the fire of the enemy thus concealed.
The intention of Jackson, in this advance, was to crush a detachment of Pope's army before the balance could come to its support. Banks, in thus advancing to the assault, aided him in his design, which otherwise would have been an entire failure.
Cedar Mountain, the position occupied by Jackson, is thus described: "The mountain is one of remarkable beauty. At a distance of four or five miles from its base it seems to rise like a perfect cone from the plain below, and from its base to its summit scarcely a deflection is to be observed in its outline form—a perfectly straight line, as if nature had formed it in the same manner that school-boys form sand-hills. The sides of the mountain are covered with a heavy growth of timber: its summit is reached by a poor road. The height of the summit is, perhaps, eight hundred feet above Cedar Creek."
Early in the day of the 9th, General Geary's brigade was sent to hold Telegraph Hill, from which our signal-officers had been driven. To approach this hill was sure slaughter; but the veteran brigade moved on, through a storm of shot and shell, and occupied the position.
Thirty pieces of cannon on our side, and as many on the side of the enemy, were belching forth their fire. There was no part of the Federal lines but that was swept by this fire.
A little after three o'clock the Seventh Regiment was ordered over the crest of the hill, into a cornfield beyond. While advancing to this position, a most terrific cannonade was directed against it. It seemed as if every cannon was being directed against this band of heroes; but it never faltered in this march of death, moving coolly on, regardless of the missiles that were tearing through its bleeding ranks. Comrades were falling, and brothers dying; the mangled, bleeding victims of the fury and violence of war were left thick, making the ground sacred on which they fell; but the line wavered not. Reaching a low place, the regiment halted, and the boys threw themselves upon the ground; and thus for a long hour they lay, in an open field, exposed to a hot sun, with a hail-storm of grape, canister, and shell falling thick and fast around them. Men gave up their lives so gently, that it was almost impossible to tell the living from the dead. The fatal missile struck its victim, leaving the lifeless clay in the same attitude which the living body but just before occupied. During that fatal period death assumed a real character, while life seemed but a dream.
The engagement had now become general. The brigade of General Prince had advanced on the left of Geary, occupying the prolongation of the line. Artillery replied to artillery, musketry to musketry, bayonet to bayonet, in this deadly strife. Daring warmed into rashness, and bravery into recklessness.
About four o'clock the regiment was ordered into a meadow, which position it promptly occupied, although the fire had not slackened, and carnage marked its advance. After dressing the lines, the regiment opened fire; and there it stood without a support, facing, in a death-struggle, three times its number. The fiery Creighton received a wound which compelled him to leave the field. The noble Crane was disabled; and the brave Molyneaux, for the moment, took command. Seeing the regiment nearly surrounded, and exposed to an enfilading fire, which was fast thinning the ranks, he ordered it to retreat; but heroic young Clarkey, mistaking it for an order to charge, dashed gallantly forward, at the head of his command. After understanding the order, he had barely time to fall back before the wings of the rebel host closed in.