Outlying pickets had of course been thrown out from General Porter's force, now posted to keep the advancing rebels at bay until the still immense trains of stores and ammunition could be conveyed to Harrison's Landing, and the siege-guns and field-batteries placed in position at Malvern Hill and other points guarding the new base. McClellan had evidently calculated upon making the last and effectual stand at Malvern Hill, and the rebels had quite as evidently calculated upon his doing so if allowed to reach it; and on the issue of the struggle in that neighborhood was to depend the question whether the Union forces were to be driven pell-mell into the James River, surrender or hold their own and repulse their assailants. Sudden attacks and attempts at surprise were naturally expected by the rear-guard at any moment; and against these usual and unusual precautions had been taken, which would have satisfied old Frederick himself—that hard-headed old soldier who dreaded nothing in war but an attack by surprise.
The nature of the country in the neighborhood as well as indeed along the whole line from the Chickahominy to the James, abounding as it did in woods and swamps, made it impossible to form extended lines of battle even at the spot where successful defence and the holding of a certain position appeared to be the most necessary. Many regiments had not even room to deploy more than half the length of their proper fronts; and the full strength of the command could not possibly be brought to bear against an attacking foe, distributed as it was in knots for miles across the country.
These natural obstacles, meanwhile, were not disadvantageous to the rebels. Their superior knowledge of the section, with its numerous minor swamp-roads, forest-paths and approaches necessarily unknown to the Union forces, gave them immense advantages, such as they had not been slow to improve, in corresponding circumstances, during the whole of the preceding campaign. Aware of these facts, a night attack on Monday might have been expected by the Federal officers, and the men had slept on their arms in anticipation of it. But White Oak Swamp had been too severe a trial of courage and energy; they were not disposed to attack again before receiving more of the reinforcements steadily pouring onward from Richmond; and as a consequence the wearied troops had been allowed to pass the night without disturbance, and they had even overhauled the remains of rations remaining in their haversacks and made their scanty and unsavory breakfasts, long before the expected hostile cloud burst upon them.
It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning when some of the scouts of Smith's brigade came in and announced the enemy advancing in force. In a moment after, the rattling rolls of drums and the brazen notes of bugles resounded among the bivouacs; and with the regimental and national colors planted at prominent points before arranged, the regiments formed upon them and took up the positions assigned. Some of the brigades were hidden in the cornfields adjoining the encampment; some were drawn up along the lines of fences, affording little protection, but obscuring knowledge of the field by an enemy attempting to reconnoitre from a distance; several regiments were thrown into the woods right and left; and a considerable portion of the command awaited the attack on open ground, without other protection than God, the justice of their cause, and their own valor. Kern's Pennsylvania Battery, Martin's Massachusetts, and Carlisle's and Tidball's Regular Batteries, were on the ground. They moved up nearer the front than they had before been lying, the Regular Batteries in the main road and upon an eminence to the right. Kern took position near the edge of the swamp on the left; and Martin found post in a wheat-field to the right. Several brigades of infantry were also thrown well in advance, though not in range of the artillery; and so prepared, the Union troops awaited what they felt was to be a decisive conflict.
Gradually the "crack! crack! crack!" of a scattering fire of small-arms, which had been heard for a quarter of an hour to the westward, came nearer and nearer, as the pickets were driven in, contesting their ground stubbornly as they fell back. On came the Confederates, slowly at first and afterwards with more rapidity, throwing out clouds of skirmishers, in the rear of which the main body marched in such formations as the nature of the ground permitted. Whenever they deployed in line of battle, instead of the customary arrangement of a single line of two ranks, they formed in three lines "closed en masse," thus making their front six ranks deep. This disposition of course was calculated to give increased weight in a bayonet charge, and indeed to make it well nigh irresistible; but besides the fact that the solid formation would render the execution of artillery among them much more destructive, in the event of a repulse it would be almost impossible to rally them, as the different regiments would necessarily lack space in which to manœuvre, the lines inevitably mix up in an inextricable mass, and the whole body become a disorganized mob. Some of the rebel divisions were formed in column, either of division or company, all closed up at half distance.
It was a matter of remark to the Union officers who saw the advance of the Confederate forces on that day—the most formidable advance, perhaps, that they have made during any battle of the war,—that there were no flashing and showy uniforms, and that but few flags were seen. The same remark had before been made during other conflicts of the Peninsular campaign, and the contrast thus presented to the gaudy and careless dressing of many of the Union troops, seemed one to reflect credit on the Confederate prudence at the expense of that quality on which they had so prided themselves—their chivalry. Except as the sun shone on the sloping musket-barrels and bristling bayonets, there were few brilliant objects in all that formidable array, on which the sharp-shooters of the Federal army could readily fix as targets. Few bright buttons flashed on uniforms, even of officers, and shoulder-straps were so uncommon as to make it difficult to distinguish an officer (even a field or staff officer, if not on horseback) from a private. Our own forces, throughout the war, have probably been needlessly reckless in this regard; and there is no doubt that the brilliant uniforms, particularly of the various Zouave corps, have often made them more easily distinguishable and added to their losses when fighting at long range. But the truly brave man is not apt to consider the consequences to his own safety, of wearing a dress or carrying an insignia which he would otherwise bear with propriety and with pride. It was an inviting mark which Henri of Navarre offered to the foe at Ivry, in the white plume with which he led on his followers; and Murat, when he made those desperate charges to which reference has before been made during the progress of this narration, must have known that his flashing silks, his feathers and embroidery, put his life much more in danger than that of an officer less conspicuously clad; but neither the foe of the League nor the brother-in-law of Napoleon remembered the danger when the glory was to be won and the great object of the soldier accomplished. Perhaps that duellist may be pardoned by those who look on, when he carefully removes from his person every mark that could furnish a target to his enemy, but he is no more than pardoned; and if there is one redeeming trait in the detestable character of the duellist, it is to be found in that ready exposure of his life to the chances of fate and skill, which does not stop to calculate a button or measure the narrowest line of aim which can be presented to an adversary. Straitened circumstances and the want of many of the appliances of luxury, may have had something to do with the lack of personal display on the part of the Confederates, more especially the officers, throughout the struggle; but a long time will elapse before the non-chivalrous "Yankees" whom they have despised, will cease to believe that commendable anxiety for personal safety has lain at the bottom of the self-denial.
The fire of the rebel skirmishers, in this advance, was met promptly by those of the Union army, and so sharply that the former were soon driven back pell-mell on the main body. The Federal sharp-shooters, taking advantage of every tree, rock or knoll, frequently overlapping their flanks, kept up a continual and most destructive fire on the steadily advancing lines and columns. The Confederates came on in excellent order, their dingy lines sometimes bulging to the front, then occasionally bending rearwards,—now the left wing curving forward, and then the right swaying in an opposite direction. But these trifling deviations from mathematical lines were always quickly corrected, and the "dress" of their long fronts was really so good as to give evidence of continued and careful drill on the part of the men and much ability on that of the officers.
A heavy gray-clad body of rebels advanced in soldierly style until they came within two hundred yards of the position occupied by Couch's division, which was lying down in the weeds and partially screened by them. A blast of bugles—a roll of drums—a few sharp words of command; and up rose the before-dormant mass to their feet. A scorching, withering fire of small-arms, delivered by companies from left to right, and with the greatest deliberation, was sent directly into the faces of the advancing rebels—such a close and deadly fire as seems almost as impossible to advance against as against the lightnings of heaven. They halted, wavered, and gave signs of confusion; but they were soon restored to order and again came on. Again one of those close and terrible volleys was poured into them, thinning the ranks and encumbering every step with dead; and again they halted and wavered. This time they deployed in line of battle and commenced a fierce fire on the opposing divisions; accompanied by yells peculiar to themselves—such as no other civilized troops in the world have ever uttered—not a hurrah, a cheer, or even a roar, but a shriek as dissonant as the Indian war-whoop, and more terrible.
On the right and on the left the enemy came hurrying up, their columns at a double quick. But they were met and brought to a stand at every point. Their artillery, ordered to the front, dashed up by batteries, took positions, unlimbered and opened savagely. The Union batteries, already posted, commenced their splendid practice. Sheet after sheet of deadly flame burst from one side and the other of the combatants; the rattling crack of the volleys of firearms became blended with the heavy metallic ring and sullen boom of the artillery; and the first battle of Malvern Hill—that which was to decide the approach to the main position—was now fairly begun.
From various and hitherto unknown paths through the woods and marshes, the gray-clads came on in swarms, every moment adding to the formidable character of the attack, the evident numbers of the assailants, and the certainty that the struggle was to be a close and terrible one. But the gathering thousands were fiercely met by the blue-clad veterans of the Union, and repeatedly driven back in confusion. Let this be recorded, from the personal knowledge of sharers in that combat—whatever after-history may choose to consider authority on the subject,—that the Federal troops never permanently yielded one foot of ground during the fight, however worn-out with fatigue, embarrassed by a cramped position, outnumbered and at one time half-surrounded.