Thus the left was saved. Meanwhile McCook, with as magnificent regiments as ever came from the Army of the Potomac, or from any army of volunteers in the world, was doing equally well toward the centre. His division was handled in such a way as to save great effusion of blood, while equally important results were obtained. Thus the reserves were kept as much as possible from under fire, while those to the front were engaged. The lists of killed and wounded will show that, while as heavy fighting was done here as anywhere on the right or centre, the casualties are fewer than could have been expected.
It would scarcely be interesting to prolong details where the course of one division so nearly resembled that of the others. But let me sketch the close. An Illinois battery, serving in the division, was in imminent danger. The Sixth Indiana was ordered to its relief. A rapid rush; close musketry firing; no need of bayonets here; the battery is safe. The enemy are to the front and right. Advancing and firing right oblique, the Sixth pushes on. The Rebel colors fall. Another volley; they fall again. Another volley; yet once more the colors drop. There is fatality in it, so the Rebels seem to think at least, as they wheel and disappear.
And then Rousseau's Brigade is drawn off in splendid style, as if coming in from parade, conscious of some grand master of reviews watching their movements. So there was—the Rebel general. As he saw the brigade filing back, he pushed his forces forward again. Kirk's Brigade advanced to meet them, coming out of the woods into an open field to do so. They were met by a tremendous fire, which threw a battalion of regulars in front of them (under Major Oliver, I think,) into some confusion. They retire to reform, and meanwhile down drops the brigade, flat on the ground. Then, as the front is clear, they spring up, charge across the open field—never mind the falling—straight on, on to the woods—under cover, with the enemy driven back by the impetuous advance. And now he rallies. Fierce musketry firing sweeps the woods. They advance—thirty rods, perhaps—when the Twenty-ninth Indiana gets into a marsh, and falls partially to the rear. Heavier comes the leaden hail. Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth both fall back fifteen or twenty rods; they rally and advance; again they are hurled back; again they start forward; and this time they come in on the vulnerable points. The enemy flees. Colonel Waggoner's Fifteenth Indiana comes up to the support; the enemy disappear; fresh troops take their places, and for them the fight is ended. I might describe similar deeds of Willich's and Harrison's regiments, but "from one learn all."
Farther to the right, McClernand and Hurlbut were gallantly coming on with their jaded men. The soldiers would fight—that was the great lesson of the battle. If surprised, and driven off in consequence of surprise, that can hardly be wholly charged on them. Four times McClernand regained and lost again the ground to the front of his division. Similar were Hurlbut's fortunes.
But I must abandon these details. Beginning at the left we have followed the wave of successes that swept us forward again, from spot to spot, over the hard-lost fields of Sunday—our paeans of victory, the wild cheers of our successful soldiers, sounding the requiem of the fallen Rebels, who have atoned for their treason by the brave man's death. Nelson, Crittenden, McCook, Hurlbut, McClernand have borne their divisions through the fray. It lasted longer on the right, and was as rarely interesting as the chess-game of a master. Let us trace it through.
In speaking of the beginning of Monday's battle, I mentioned Major-General Lew. Wallace's opening the ball at seven o'clock, by shelling with enfilading fires a Rebel battery. A few shots demonstrated to the Rebels that their position was untenable. The instant Sherman came in to protect his left, Wallace advanced his infantry. The Rebel battery at once limbered up and got out of the way. The advance had withdrawn the division from Sherman. Making a left half-wheel, to get back into the neighborhood of our line, they advanced some two hundred yards, which brought them to a little elevation, with a broad, open stretch to the front.
As the division halted on the crest of the swell, there passed before them a rare vision. Away to the front were woods. Through the edge of the timber, skirting the fields, the head of a Rebel column appeared, marching past in splendid style on the double-quick. Banner after banner appeared; the "stars and bars" formed a long line, stretching parallel with Wallace's line of battle. Regiment after regiment followed on, the line lengthened, and doubled and trebled; the head of the column was out of sight, and still they came. Twenty regiments were counted passing through these woods. The design was plain. The Rebels had abandoned the idea of forcing their way through our left, and now the manifest attempt was to turn our right.
Batteries were ordered up—Thompson's and Thurber's—and the whole column was shelled as it passed. The Rebels rapidly threw their artillery into position, and a brisk cannonading began. After a time, while the fight still rested with the artillery, the Rebels opened a new and destructive battery to the right, which our men soon learned to know as "Watson's Louisiana Battery," from the marks on the ammunition-boxes they forced it from time to time to leave behind.
Batteries, with a brigade of supporting infantry, were now moved forward over open fields under heavy fire, to contend against this new assailant. The batteries opened, the sharpshooters were thrown out to the front to pick off the Rebel artillerists, the brigade was ordered down on its face to protect it from the flying shell and grape. For an hour and a half the contest lasted, while the body of the division was still delayed, waiting for Sherman. By ten o'clock Sherman's right, under Colonel Marsh, came up. He started to move across the fields. The storm of musketry and grape were too much for him, and he fell back in good order. Again he started on the double, and gained the woods. The Louisiana Battery was turned; Marsh's position left it subject to fire in flank and front, and it fled. The other Rebel batteries at once did the same; and Wallace's Division, up in an instant, now that a master move had swept the board, pushed forward. Before them were broad fallow fields, then a woody little ravine, then corn-fields, then woods.
The left brigade was sent forward. It crossed the fallow fields, under ordinary fire, then gained the ravine, and was rushing across the corn-fields, when the same Louisiana steel rifled guns opened on them. Dashing forward they reached a little ground-swell, behind which they dropped like dead men, while skirmishers were sent forward to silence the troublesome battery. The skirmishers crawled forward till they gained a little knoll, not more than seventy-five yards from the battery. Of course the battery opened on them. They replied, if not so noisily, more to the purpose. In a few minutes the battery was driven off, with artillerists killed, horses shot down, and badly crippled every way. But the affair cost us a brave man—Lieutenant-Colonel Garber—who could not control his enthusiasm at the conduct of the skirmishers, and in his excitement incautiously exposed himself. All this while Rebel regiments were pouring up to attack the audacious brigade that was supporting the skirmishers, and fresh regiments from Wallace's Division came up in time to checkmate the game.