Without waiting to take breath, each regiment as soon as it arrives on the field, is ordered to charge independently of the others. The third brigade is first; and first of its regiments, the Twentieth New York, with their sabre bayonets, are ready; and the shout, "Forward, double quick!" rings along the line. The Germans waver for a moment; but presently with a yell they rush down the hill, suddenly receiving a volley from a rebel line concealed behind a fence; but the Germans, regardless of the storm of bullets, rush forward; the rebels breaking and flying to the rear in confusion, while the Germans hotly pursue them. Next, on the left of the Twentieth, the gallant Seventh Maine charges; rushing forward into the midst of the cornfield, they, too, are met by concealed foes. Although they are concealed from our view, the crashing of musketry tells us of the struggle which they maintain.
The gallant regiment makes its way down the slope, almost to the earthworks of the enemy, when the men throw themselves upon the ground behind a rail fence. Here, subjected to the shells from the Union and rebel batteries, the regiment can neither advance or retreat; but our batteries, finding that their shots are as fatal to our men as to the rebels, allow the remaining fragments of the regiment to retire from the perilous position.
On the right of the Seventh Maine comes the glorious Forty-ninth and our own Seventy-seventh, Captain Babcock in command. On the right of all is the old Thirty-third, within supporting distance. The men of the Seventy-seventh rush forward over their fallen comrades, making toward a small school house which stands upon the Sharpsburgh and Hagerstown turnpike, behind which is a grove swarming with rebel troops. Our boys are almost on the road, when, at a distance of less than thirty yards, they find themselves confronted by overwhelming numbers, who pour a withering fire into their ranks. The Seventy-seventh receives the fire nobly, and, although far ahead of all the other regiments, stands its ground and returns the fire with spirit, although it is but death to remain thus in the advance. The brave color-bearer, Joseph Murer, falls, shot through the head; but the colors scarcely touch the ground when they are seized and again flaunted in the face of the enemy. Volley after volley crashes through our ranks; our comrades fall on every side; yet the little band stands firm as a rock, refusing to yield an inch. At this juncture, General Smith, riding along the line and discovering the advanced and unprotected position of the regiment, exclaims, "There's a regiment gone," and sends an aide to order it to retire. The order was timely, for the rebels were planting a battery within twenty yards of the left of the regiment, which would, in a moment longer, have swept it to destruction.
The regiment reformed behind the crest, in line with the other regiments of the brigade, all of which had been forced to fall back; but the line held was far in advance of that held by Sumner's troops when the division arrived. Thirty-three of the little band had fallen; they were less than two hundred men when they came upon the field. In the Seventh Maine the loss was still greater; of the one hundred and seventy men who went into the fight, one-half were killed or wounded; more than eighty of those noble forms were prostrated like the slashings in their own forests. The Thirty-third lost fifty in killed and wounded. The total loss to our Third brigade was three hundred and forty-three; of the Second division, three hundred and seventy-three; of the corps, four hundred and thirty-eight.
Our men lay down behind the ridge to protect themselves from the rebel batteries; yet even here the shells came, carrying death to many of our number. The Vermont brigade was sent to the assistance of French's division, who, having expended their ammunition, were making feeble resistance to the enemy. The Vermonters behaved with their usual gallantry, resisting the advance of the enemy; and although frequently subjected to the fire of artillery, they held their ground bravely. The brigade was composed of men who could always be depended on to do what they were ordered to do.
The advent of the Sixth corps upon the field had decided the contest upon the right of the line, and after the first charge by the Third brigade the battle lulled. Of all the brilliant charges made in the army on that memorable day, none was more gallant or more important in its results than this noble charge of the Third brigade of Smith's division. Although the infantry on both sides became comparatively quiet, artillery thundered from every eminence in possession of our own or the enemy's batteries. Shells and cannister tore through the Union ranks, making in parts of the line fearful havoc. Thus, for nine long hours, our Sixth corps endured this fiery ordeal, when darkness closed over the field of strife.
Meanwhile, on the left, Burnside became hotly engaged. At nine o'clock in the morning, his troops moved down toward the stone bridge, over which they hoped to cross. The hills on either side slope down almost to the water's edge; the road leading to the bridge winding through a ravine, and then on the other side ascending through another ravine to the highlands. No sooner had the head of the column descended into this amphitheater of hills, than the rebels opened a destructive fire from behind defenses which they had thrown up along the hillsides. Rifle pits, and breastworks of rails and stones, concealed thousands of infantry, who, from their secure position, poured volley after volley into the advancing column; while batteries, placed upon the heights, brought an enfilading fire upon the bridge and its approaches. In the face of this reception, the Ninth corps formed in line of battle. One brigade with fixed bayonets charged upon the bridge; but the concentrated fire of the enemy forced it back. Charge after charge was ordered and executed by different portions of the command with like success. At length a battery was brought to bear directly upon the enemy's position at the farthest end of the bridge, and, aided by these guns, fresh troops charged with great enthusiasm, carrying the bridge and planting their colors on the opposite side of the stream. Sturgis' division immediately advanced up the slope, driving the enemy before it. Meanwhile Rodman's division had succeeded, after a desperate fight, in crossing the stream below, and had also gained a position along the crest of the hills. The enemy having the range perfectly, made the position along the crest of the hills untenable, and the men were forced to fall back a little; lying close upon the ground to avoid the shells that burst about them.
At length, at three o'clock, General Burnside ordered a general advance. The divisions moved in fine order, but were soon met by the enemy in overpowering numbers. The whole line became hotly engaged. All the reserves were brought into action, and still the rebels poured upon the Union men in increasing numbers; pressing their flank and turning the attack into a doubtful defense. It seemed impossible for the corps to hold its position against the overwhelming force opposed to it. At this juncture General Burnside sent to General McClellan for aid. Porter's troops were still in reserve; but McClellan refused to relieve the hardly pressed corps. Again Burnside sends word, "I cannot hold my position half an hour longer, unless I am reinforced;" and again the appeal is met with refusal. Contrary to his own expectations, Burnside's forces held their ground until darkness put an end to the strife.
Thus our own Sixth corps, and Burnside's corps, held the ground they had each by most desperate fighting wrested from the hands of the enemy; and in spite of the peril which had threatened the right, when Hooker's braves were forced back, the center, where Sumner's brave men fell back for the third time with empty cartridge boxes, and the left, where Burnside was so hardly pressed, the advantage remained with our army; and the weary soldiers lay down in the expectation of renewing the battle in the morning.
Their valor had saved them from defeat; they hoped to make the battle that should come, a complete victory.