CHAPTER XVIII.
More of the First Battle of Malvern—A Pause—The Attacks on the Main Position—Repulse After Repulse—Victory—Strange Incidents of the Last Hour of the Battle.
Still the battle went on—that ferocious attack which seemed to have the desperation of defence, and that steady defence which appeared to have the assured confidence of an attack. The smoke gathered rapidly, rolled away at times, then settled in dense masses, shutting out portions of the battle-field and whole divisions of either army from view, and concealing the movements of either belligerent from the other until lifted in the occasional lulls of the fiery storm or wafted away by the lazy breeze which came sluggishly over from the James River marshes. Men fell thickly, crushed, mangled and dead, or so terribly wounded by shot or shell that life could be henceforth nothing more than one long, helpless agony. Slightly wounded soldiers went limping to the rear, seeking surgical aid; while badly wounded men were eagerly caught up and borne off the field by their "comrades in battle" or by white-livered recreants, anxious to desert their braver companions and place themselves in safety. A certain percentage of such craven-hearted libels on humanity—let it be said here—are always to be found in every army and on every battle-field, dusky backgrounds against which brave men show the brighter, and ever ready to take advantage of any circumstance that will help them to the rear. In the armies of the older and more warlike nations of Europe, where the reins of discipline are much more tightly drawn than in our own, such skulking is prevented by regularly-organized ambulance-parties and by the prompt shooting down of any officer or soldier, not wounded, who dares to leave the ranks without orders. Even in our own service, a Taylor is occasionally found, fighting such a desperate battle as that of the Bad Axe against the Indians, and posting a line of his most reliable troops in the rear, with orders to make short work of the skulkers. Such discipline as this—an enemy in front and an equally dangerous body of friends behind, is generally found efficacious even for the weakest knees; and but few hours of such experience are necessary to produce a marked-change in the steadiness of any corps under fire.
Noon now approached, and the battle had raged for more than two hours, without any intermission except the occasional lulls when batteries were limbered up and dragged off at a gallop to new positions, and when regiments deployed in line or closed in column, making evolutions to the flanks or movements to the front. Attacks had been fiercely made on every portion of the Union lines by the maddened rebels—maddened, as was afterwards discovered, by the gunpowdered whiskey in their canteens; and they had been quite as fiercely repulsed by the loyal troops, who neither needed nor received any such stimulus. This defence had been materially assisted, and the Federal troops enabled to gain ground at every repulse of the rebels, by the arrival of several regiments of infantry and two of his best batteries, sent in haste by McClellan from his main position at Malvern Hill, so soon as the roar of artillery announced that the fight had fairly begun with the rear-guard.
A little before meridian, the musket fire of the enemy slackened perceptibly, while their artillery, operating against the Union left, seemed to redouble its fury. This change was at once made known to Porter, who as quickly divined the intention of Longstreet. This was to engage all attention with the Federal left, while several of his divisions, passing rapidly through roadways and obscure paths in the woods known only to the native Virginians, were to take the right wing in flank. Porter immediately directed counter movements to meet them—movements admirably calculated and as admirably executed. Burns, with his own and two other brigades, moved rapidly to the right and deployed in line opposite the edge of the white oaks from which the rebels must emerge to make their attack. Four batteries went up at a trot and took position where they were masked by a fringe of bushes and some patches of tall corn. From this point the artillery could concentrate a terrible fire of grape, canister and short-fuse shell upon any part of the opposite woods from which the enemy might make their appearance. The infantry were ordered to lie down, and were concealed from view by clumps of trees, corn and underbrush. This repelling force was not kept long in suspense, and it was evident that the movement had not been made a moment too soon for safety. Suddenly from the shadow of the white-oaks, out came the Confederates by regiments, without tap of drum or bugle-call, pouring from the various openings in double-quick time, and by the right and left flanks. They filed rapidly right and left until the woods were cleared; then by a halt and face-to-the-front they were brought quickly into line of battle. A halt of very brief space to align and close up ranks, and they were ordered forward to the attack. On they came, in close order and with long swaying lines, exulting in the prospect of a successful issue to their bold movement, and so confident that they would take the Federal flank and rear by complete surprise, that silence was no longer felt to be necessary and yells and shouts of triumph were beginning to burst from one portion and another of their line. Still on they came, and not a shot had been fired on either side since they emerged from the woods. Their left was thrown forward in advance of the centre and right, as if seeking to surround the positions supposed to be held by the Federal troops. They were even allowed to advance within pistol-shot of some portions of the ambuscade, before the trap laid for them was sprung.
Then what a change!—like that when the thunder-storm, long gathering but still silent, breaks at once into desolating fury. It seemed as if at one and the same instant the four Union batteries opened, and a terrible concentrating storm of flame and projectiles leaped from the muzzles of twenty-four pieces of artillery and burst upon their centre with devastating effect. In an instant after, the infantry sprung to their feet, and a sheet of fire burst from right to left, one deadly and irresistible shower of lead sweeping through the rebel ranks that had so little expected such a reception. They hesitated—halted—recoiled. Before they could recover from the awful shock, volley after volley was poured into their wavering lines, and they could not again be brought forward. On the instant when their discomfiture was clearly perceived, a charge was ordered against them. The Union men dashed forward, glad to have that order at last, and breaking into ringing cheers—the first in which they had indulged that day. The rebels could not stand a moment before that impetuous onset, but broke and ran for the cover of the white-oaks, leaving the ground of the conflict almost impassable with the terrible piles of their dead and wounded.
A general advance of our lines was now ordered, and the command was obeyed with alacrity. The rebel front, weakened by the withdrawal of so many troops for the grand flanking movement, gave way before they could be reached with the steel; and their three-deep lines became mixed up in the most hopeless disorder. Kearney's division made a gallant charge, in this movement, Sickles' Excelsior Brigade once more evidencing that splendid steadiness with the bayonet which had been so conspicuous at Williamsburgh and Fair Oaks. General Heintzelman joined in this brilliant advance, his tall form and blue blouse conspicuous as he rode rapidly along the lines, speaking words of cheer and steadying the men who did not need urging forward.
The Union batteries had meanwhile kept up their terrible fire, while those of the enemy were silenced one after another and drawn off with the recoiling troops, with the exception of one battery, which maintained its fire with invincible obstinacy. It was felt that this battery must be taken or silenced. A stream of men in dingy French blue were seen to leap forward, and it was known that the Excelsior boys were making a dash at the battery. The gunners saw the movement, began to limber up their pieces and succeeded in galloping away with four of them. But the two remaining guns could not be handled quickly enough, and the Excelsiors took them with a rush and a cheer, and in such excellent spirits that one of them was the moment after sitting astride of each gun and waving his cap in token of victory. The battle-flag of one of the Georgia regiments, and three hundred prisoners, were also captured in this gallant dash, which effectually showed how little the spirits of the Army of the Potomac had been damped by recent misfortunes. General Heintzelman lost his horse by the last fire of one of the captured pieces, and at the same time received a wound in the arm—fortunately not serious. The repulse of the rebels was now complete. Longstreet was compelled to "retire" and not by any means in "good order," leaving the field with its dead and wounded, and many arms and other trophies, in the possession of the Federal forces.
Of course this success could not be followed up, the object of the battle having been to secure an uninterrupted line of march to the James River. And of course the Union generals were well aware that while the rebels possessed any remaining strength, they would not give up their cherished object of crippling or destroying the main body before it could reach the shelter of the river and the gun-boats. Fresh troops would be brought up; and but little time would be allowed the Federal troops to recover from the fatigue and excitement of that arduous morning. The rebel plan evidently was to give the Federal forces no rest—to precipitate fresh masses of their own troops continually upon them, when weary and exhausted with previous fighting; and when they were at last fairly worn out and incapable of further exertion, to "gobble them up" (to use an expressive, though not elegant phrase) or destroy them in detail and at leisure. The theory was admirable, and both brain and heart were necessary to prevent its being carried out in successful practice.
The Federal dead were buried on the field where they had so bravely fallen; the wounded were sent on to Harrison's Landing; the slaughtered rebels were left to the tender care of their approaching comrades; the prisoners were gathered together and put properly under guard; and then the army-corps of General Fitz-John Porter fell back under previous orders to the strong position of Malvern Hill proper, where McClellan was certain he would at once be attacked by the rebels in force, its possession being the most important point in their plan of action, and its triumphant retention one of the most important in his own.