Artillery on both sides became heavily engaged. The ——th Virginia, during one of those sudden and mysterious lulls coming suddenly in battle as in other commotions of the elements, found itself, after hard fighting, with nothing to do but to watch that corner of the fight immediately before it. The corner was but a small, smoke-shrouded one. Only general officers, aides, and couriers ever really saw a battle-field. The ——th Virginia gazed with feverish interest on what it could see and guessed that which it could not. It could guess well enough that for the grey the struggle was growing desperate.
All this field was up and down, low ridge and shallow ravine. The ——th Virginia held a ridge. Over against it was a blue battery, and beyond the battery there might be divined a gathering mass of infantry. The ——th Virginia looked to its cartridge boxes. “Wish we had some guns! There won’t be much of this left—What’s that? Praise the Lord!” At a gallop, out of the smoke to the right, came a section of a grey battery, the guns leaping and thundering. Red-nostrilled, with blood-shot eyes up strained the horses. At the ridge-top, with an iron clang, all stopped. At once the gunners, grey wraiths in grey smoke, were busy; busy also at once the shapes upon the opposite ridge, blue wraiths in grey smoke. There was shouting, gesturing, then the flare and shriek of crossing shells. The ——th Virginia, still in possession of its spare moment, watched with an interest intense and critical. “Hello!” it said. “That’s the homesick battery! That’s the Botetourt Artillery!”
Out of the haze in front, above the opposing crest, came a glint of bayonets, the blue infantry, coveting the grey ridge, moving forward under artillery support. The ——th Virginia handled its rifles. Ready—take aim—fire! The blue failed to acquire the coveted ridge. The ——th Virginia, at rest once again in its corner of the field, looked sideways to see what the homesick battery was doing. There was a silence; then, “Give them a cheer, men!” said the colonel. “They’re dying fast, and it always was a brave county!”
The shells from the many blue cannon came many and fast. It was necessary to clear the ridge of that grey section which stood in the way of a general advance. The gunners fell, the gunners fell, the officers, the horses. Dim in the universal cloud, from the left, a force was seen approaching. “Grey, I think,” said the lieutenant commanding this section of the Botetourt Artillery. “J.J. Smith, climb up on the roof of that cabin, and see what you can see!”
J.J. Smith climbed. “Lieutenant Norgrove! Lieutenant Norgrove! they’re damn-Yankees—”
Out of the smoke came a yellow light and a volley of lead. Gunner Number 8, J.J. Smith, fell from the roof of the cabin, desperately wounded. “Double canister!” shouted Norgrove.
An orderly came up the back side of the ridge. The ——th Virginia was needed to cover a break in the line to the right. Off perforce went the regiment, with one backward look at the homesick battery, left without infantry support. An aide dashed up, rose in his stirrups, and shouted, “Move your guns to the ridge in your rear!” He was gone; Botetourt looked and shook its head. The horses were all killed. “Put your hands to them, men!” ordered Norgrove—and they tried. But the scrub was thick, the ground rough; there burst a frightful fire, shell and musketry, and on came the blue wave hurrahing. “All right! We can’t!” shouted Norgrove. “Load! This hill’s Botetourt County—Take aim!—and we don’t propose to emigrate! Fire!”
The blue guns threw death. Deep, many-atomed, resistless, up roared the blue wave. It struck and went over Botetourt County, and, taking the two guns, turned them on the Botetourt men. There were few Botetourt men now, Botetourt was become again the wilderness. Norgrove jerked the trail from a gun, a man in blue calling on him all the time to surrender. He made at the man, who lifted his rifle and fired. Norgrove fell, mortally wounded, fell by the side of J.J. Smith. He put his arms about the gunner, “Come on! Come on!” he cried.... The wave swept over Botetourt County, the dead and the dying.
The ——th Virginia, fighting strongly in another quarter of the field, came in mid-afternoon to a stand between charges. All knew now that the day was going against them. The smoke hung thick, a dark velvet in the air, torn in places by the lightning from the guns. Grey and blue—all was dimly seen. The flags looked small and distant, mere riddled and blood-stained rags. The voice of War was deep and loud. The ——th Virginia, looking up from a hollow between the hills, saw two grey guns, stolid in the midst of wreck and ruin. The plateau around had a nightmare look, it was so weighted and cumbered with destruction. There was an exploded caisson, a wreck of gun-carriages. Not a horse had been spared. The agony of them was ghastly, sunk in the scrub, up and down and on the crest of the ridge.... A few grey gunners yet served the grey guns.
A captain, young, with a strong face and good brown eyes, stood out, higher than the rest, careless of the keening minies, the stream of shells. “A habit is a habit, men! This battery’s got a habit of being steadfast! Keep it up—keep it up!”