The Southern people were still suffering from the delusion2 of Bull Run and had not had time to adjust themselves to the amazing defeats suffered at Fort Henry and Fort Donaldson, to say nothing of the stunning4 victory of the Monitor in Hampton Roads, which had opened the James to the gates of the Confederate Capital.
Jackson was ordered into the Shenandoah Valley to execute the apparently5 impossible task of holding in check the armies of Fremont, Milroy, Banks and Shields, and at the same time prevent the force of forty thousand men under McDowell from reaching McClellan. The combined forces of the Federal armies opposed thus to Jackson were eight times greater than his command. And yet, by a series of rapid and terrifying movements which gained for his little army the title of "foot cavalry6," he succeeded in defeating, in quick succession, each army in detail.
McDowell was despatched in haste to join Fremont and crush Jackson. And while his army was rushing into the Shenandoah Valley, Jackson withdrew and quietly joined the army before Richmond which moved to meet McClellan.
Little Mac, with his hundred and twenty thousand men, had moved up the Peninsula with deliberate but resistless force, Johnston's army retiring before him without serious battle until the Army of the Potomac lay within sight of the spires7 of Richmond. Faint, but clear, the breezes brought the far-off sound of her church bells on Sunday morning.
The two great armies at last faced each other for the first clash of giants, McClellan with one hundred and ten thousand men in line, Johnston with seventy thousand Southerners.
John Vaughan rode along the lines of the Federal host on the afternoon of May 30th, to inspect and report to his Commander. Through the opening in the trees the Confederate army could be plainly seen on the other side of the clearing. The Federal scouts8 had already reported the certainty of an attack.
The Confederates that night lay down on their arms with orders to attack at daylight. Dark clouds had swirled9 their storm banks over the sky before sunset and the heavens were opened. The rain fell in blinding torrents10, until the sluggish11 little stream of the Chickahominy had become a rushing, widening, treacherous12 river which threatened to sweep away the last bridge McClellan had constructed.
The Confederate Commander was elated. The army of his enemy was divided by a swollen13 river. The storm increased until it reached the violence of a hurricane. Through the entire night the lightning flashed and the thunder pealed14 without ceasing. At times the heavens were livid with blinding, dazzling light. Tents were a mockery. The earth was transformed into a vast morass15.
The storm had its compensations for the Northern army though divided. Its frightful16 severity had so demoralized the Confederates that it was nearly noon before General A. P. Hill moved to the attack.
The entrenched17 army was ready. The union pickets19 lay in the edge of the woods and every soldier in the pits had been under cover for hours awaiting the onset20.
With a shout the men in grey leaped from their shelter, pouring their volleys from close charging columns. The rifle balls whistled through the woods, clipping boughs21, barking the trees, and hurling22 the Federal pickets back on their support. In front of the abatis had been planted a battery of four guns. The grey men had fixed23 their eyes on them. General Naglee saw their purpose and threw his four thousand men into the open field to meet them. Straight into each other's faces their muskets25 flamed, paused, and flamed again. The Northern men fixed their bayonets, charged, and drove the grey line slowly back into the woods. Here they met a storm of hissing26 lead that mowed27 their ranks. They broke quickly and rushed for the cover of their rifle pits.
The grey lines charged, and for three hours the earth trembled beneath the shock of their continued assaults.
Suddenly on the left flank of the Federal army a galling28 fire was poured from a grey brigade. The movement had been quietly and skillfully executed. At the same moment General Rodes' brigade rushed on their front with resistless force. The officers tried to spike29 their guns and save them, but were shot down in their tracks to a man. Their guns were lost, and in a moment the men in grey had wheeled them and were pouring a terrible fire on the retreating lines.
The Confederates now charged the Federal centre, and for an hour and a half the fierce conflict raged—charge and countercharge by men of equal courage led by dauntless officers. The union right wing had already been crumpled30 in hopeless confusion, the centre had yielded, the left wing alone was holding its own. It looked as if the whole union army on the South side of the Chickahominy would be wiped out.
At Seven Pines Heintzelman had made a stubborn stand. General Keyes saw a hill between the lines of battle which might save the day if he could reach it in time. He must take men between two battle lines to do so. The Confederate Commander, divining his intention, poured a galling fire into his ranks and began a race with him for the heights. Keyes won the race and formed his line in the nick of time. The tremendous fire poured down from this new position was too much for the assaulting Southern column and it halted.
The Confederate forces had forced the Federal lines back two miles as the river fog and the darkness slowly rose and enveloped31 the field. General Johnston ordered his men to sleep on the fields and camps they had captured. A minute later he was hurled32 from his horse by an exploding shell and was borne from the field dangerously wounded. The first day's struggle had ended in reverses for the invading enemy. The Confederates had captured ten guns, six thousand muskets, and five hundred prisoners, besides driving McClellan's forces two miles from the opening battle lines.
Between the two smoke-grimed, desperate armies locked thus in close embrace there could be no truce33 for burying the fallen or rescuing the wounded. Over the rain-soaked fields and woods for two miles behind the Confederate front lay the dead, the dying, and the wounded, the blue side by side with their foes35 in grey. Dim fog-ringed lanterns flickered36 feebly here and there like wounded fireflies over the dark piles on the ground.
The Southern ambulance corps37 did its best at its new trade. Their long lines of wagons38 began to creep into Richmond and fill the hospitals. Shivering white-faced women, wives, sweethearts, mothers, sisters were there looking for their own, praying and hoping. All day they had shivered in their rooms at the deep boom of cannon40, whose thunder rattled41 the glass in the windows through which they gazed on the deserted42 streets. It was the first lesson in real war, this hand to hand grip of the two giants whose struggle must decide the fate of Richmond.
The wagons left their loads and rattled back over the rough cobble stones and out on the muddy roads to the front again. The night would be all too short for their work.
In their field hospital, the surgeons, with bare, bloody43 arms, were busy with knife and saw. Boys who had faced death in battle without a tremor44, now pale and trembling, watched the growing pile of legs and arms. Alone in the darkness beyond the voice or touch of a loved hand they must face this awful thing and hobble through life maimed wrecks45. They looked over their shoulders into the murky46 darkness and envied the silent forms that lay there beyond the reach of pain and despair. All night the grim tragedy of the knife and saw, and the low moans that still came from the darkness of the woods!
Sunday morning, the second day of June, dawned over the battle-scarred earth—an ominous47 day for the armies of the Republic—for the sun rose on a new figure in command of the men in grey. Robert E. Lee had taken the place of Joseph E. Johnston.
General G. W. Smith, second in command when Johnston fell, had formed his plan of battle, and the new head of the Confederacy, with his high sense of courtesy and justice, permitted his subordinate to direct the conflict for the day.
As the sun rose, red and ominous through the dark pine forest, General Smith quickly advanced his men at Fair Oaks Station, down the railroad, and fell with fury on the men in blue, who crouched48 behind the embankment. The men were less than fifty yards apart, and muskets blazed in long level sheets of yellow flame. No longer could the ear catch the effect of ripping canvas in the fire of small arms. The roar was endless. For an hour and a half the two blazing lines mowed each other down in their tracks without pause. The grey at last gave way and fell back to the shelter of their woods and gathered reinforcements. The union lines had been cut to pieces and suddenly ceased firing while their support advanced.
The roaring hell had died into a strange ominous stillness. John Vaughan had just dashed up to the embankment with orders from McClellan to hold this position until Haskin's division arrived. He sprang on the embankment and looked curiously49 at the long piles of grey bodies lying in an endless row as far as the eye could reach. Over the tree tops, faintly mingling50 with the low cry of a dying boy of sixteen, came the sweet distant notes of a church bell in Richmond.
"God in heaven—the mockery of it!" he cried.
A great shout swept the blue lines. Hooker's magnificent division of fresh troops swept into view, eager for the fray51. They rapidly deployed52 to the right and left. In front of them lay the open blood-soaked field, and beyond the deep woods bristling53 with Southern bayonets. The new division leaped into this open field, with a wild shout, their eyes set on the woods. They paused, only to fire, and their double quick became a race.
The Southern batteries followed and tore great holes in their ranks. They closed them with low quick sullen54 orders sweeping55 on. They reached the edge of the woods and poured into its friendly shelter. And then above the tops of oak and pine and beech56 and ash and tangled57 undergrowth came the soul-piercing roar of two great armies, fearless, daring, scorning death, fighting hand to hand, man to man, for what they believed to be right.
The people in church turned anxious faces toward the sound. Its roar rang above the sob58 of organ and the chant of choir59.
Bayonet clashed on bayonet, as regiment60 after regiment were locked in close mortal combat. Hour after hour the stubborn unyielding hosts held fast on both sides. The storm weakened and slowly died away. Only the intermittent61 crack of a rifle here and there broke the stillness.
There was no shout of victory, no sweep of cheering hosts—only silence. The Confederate General in command for the day had lost faith in his battle plan and withdrew his army from the field. The men in blue could move in and camp on the ground they had held the day before if they wished.
But there was something more important to do now than maneuver62 for position in history. The dead and the dying and wounded crying for water were everywhere—down every sunlit aisle63 of the forest they lay in heaps. In the open fields they lay faces up, the scorching64 Southern sun of June beating piteously down in their eyes—the blue and the grey side by side in death as they fought hand to hand in life.
The trenches65 were opened and they piled the bodies in one on top of the other, where they had fallen. They turned their faces downward, these stalwart, brave American boys that the grave-diggers might not throw the wet dirt into their eyes and mouths. O, aching hearts in far-away homes, at least you were not there to see!
Both armies paused now to gird their loins for the crucial test. General Lee was in the saddle gathering66 every available man into his ranks for his opening assault on McClellan's host. Jackson was in the Shenandoah Valley holding three armies at bay, defeating them in detail and paralyzing the efficiency of McDowell's forty thousand men at Fredericksburg, by the daring uncertainty67 of his movements.
The first act of Lee was characteristic of his genius. Wishing to know the exact position of McClellan's forces, and with the further purpose of striking terror into his antagonist's mind for the safety of his lines of communication, he conceived the daring feat3 of sending a picked body of cavalry under the gallant68 J. E. B. Stuart completely around the Northern army of one hundred and five thousand men.
On June the 12th, Stuart with twelve hundred troopers, fighting, singing, dare-devil riders to a man, slipped from Lee's lines and started toward Fredericksburg. The first night he bivouacked in the solemn pines of Hanover. At the first streak69 of dawn the men swung into their saddles in silence.
Turning suddenly to the east he surprised and captured the Federal pickets without a shot. In five minutes he confronted a squadron of union cavalry. With piercing rebel yell his troopers charged and scattered70 their foes.
Sweeping on with swift, untiring dash they struck the York River Railroad, which supplied McClellan's army, surprised and captured the company of infantry71 which guarded Tunstall's Station, cut the wires and attacked a train passing with troops.
Riding without pause through the moonlit night they reached the Chickahominy at daybreak. The stream was out of its banks and could not be forded. They built a bridge, crossed over at dawn, and the following day leaped from their saddles before Lee's headquarters and reported.
A thrill of admiration72 and dismay swept the ranks of the Northern army and started in Washington a wave of bitter criticism against McClellan. No word of reply reached the world from the little Napoleon. He was busy digging trenches, felling trees and pushing his big guns steadily73 forward and always behind impregnable works. He was a born engineer and his soul was set on training his great siege guns on the Confederate Capital.
On the 25th of June his advance guard had pressed within five miles of the apparently doomed74 city. His breastworks bristled75 from every point of advantage. His army was still divided by the Chickahominy River, but he had so thoroughly76 bridged its treacherous waters he apparently had no fear of coming results.
On June the 27th Stonewall Jackson had slipped from the Shenandoah Valley, baffling two armies converging on him from different directions, and with a single tiger leap had landed his indomitable little army by Lee's side.
Anticipating his arrival, the Confederate general had hurled Hill's corps against the union right wing under Porter. Throughout the day of the 26th and until nine o'clock at night the battle raged with unabated fury. The losses on both sides were frightful and neither had gained a victory. But at nine o'clock the Federal Commander ordered his right wing to retreat five miles to Gaines Mill and cover his withdrawal77 of heavy guns and supplies. They were ordered at all hazards to hold Jackson's fresh troops at bay until this undertaking78 was well under way. It was a job that called for all his skill in case of defeat. It involved the retreat of an army of one hundred thousand men with their artillery79 and enormous trains of supplies across the mud-scarred marshy80 Peninsula. Five thousand wagons loaded to their utmost capacity, their wheels sinking in the springy earth, had to be guarded and transported. His siege guns, so heavy it was impossible to hitch81 enough horses to move them over roads in which they sank to the hubs, had to be saved. Three thousand cattle were there, to be guarded and driven, and it was more than seventeen miles to the shelter of his gunboats on the James.
During the night his wagon39 trains and heavy guns were moved across the Chickahominy toward his new base on the James.
The morning of the 27th dawned cool and serene82. Under the cover of the night the silent grey army had followed the retiring one in blue. The Southerners lay in the dense83 wood above Gaines Mill dozing84 and waiting orders.
A balloon slowly rose from the Federal lines and hung in the scarlet85 clouds that circled the sun. The signal was given to the artillery that the enemy lay in the deep woods within range and a storm of shot and shell suddenly burst over the heads of the men in grey and the second day's carnage had begun.
For once Jackson, the swift and mysterious, was late in reaching the scene. It was two o'clock when Hill again unsupported hurled his men on the Federal lines in a fierce determined86 charge. Twenty-six guns of the matchless artillery of McClellan's army threw a stream of shot and shell into his face. Never were guns handled with deadlier power. And back of them the infantry, thrilled at the magnificent spectacle, poured their hail of hissing lead into the approaching staggering lines.
The waves of grey broke and recoiled87. A blue pall88 of impenetrable smoke rolled through the trees and clung to the earth. Under the protection of their great guns the dense lines of blue pushed out into the smoke fog and charged their foe34. For two hours the combat raged at close quarters. A division of fresh troops rushed to the Northern line, and Lee observing the movement from his horse on an eminence89, ordered a general attack on the entire union front.
It was a life and death grapple for the mastery. Jackson's corps was now in action. A desperate charge of Hood's division at last broke the union lines and the grey men swarmed90 over the Federal breastworks. The lines broke and began to roll back toward the bridges of the Chickahominy. The retreat threatened to become a rout91. The twilight92 was deepening over the field when a shout rose from the tangled masses of blue stragglers by the bridge. Dashing through them came the swift fresh brigades of French and Meager93. General Meager, rising from his stirrups in his shirt sleeves, swung his bare sword above his head, hurled his troops against the advancing Confederate line and held it until darkness saved Porter's division from ruin.
McClellan's one hope now was to pull his army out of the deadly swamps in which he had been caught and save it from destruction. He must reach the banks of the James and the shelter of his gunboats before he could stop to breathe. At every step the charging grey lines crashed on his rear guard. Retreating day and night, turning and fighting as a hunted stag, he was struggling only to escape.
That there was no panic, no rout, was a splendid tribute to his organizing and commanding powers. His army was an army at last in fact as well as in name—a compact and terrible fighting machine. The oncoming Confederate hosts learned this to their sorrow again and again in the five terrible days which followed.
On July 1st, McClellan reached the shelter of his gunboats and intrenched himself on the heights of Malvern Hill. On its summit he placed tier after tier of batteries swung in crescent line, commanding every approach. Surmounting94 those on the highest point he planted seven of his great siege guns. His army surrounded this hill, its left flank resting on the James and covered by his gunboats.
It was late in the afternoon before Lee ordered a general attack. The grey army was floundering in the mud in a vain effort to reach its fleeing enemy in force. At noon they were still burying the dead on the blood-soaked field of Glendale where McClellan's gallant rear guard had stood until the last wagon train had safely arrived at Malvern Hill.
Ned Vaughan's company had been hurried from the West to the defense95 of Richmond, and reached the field on the night of the 30th, too late for the battle of Glendale, but in time to walk over its scarred soil in the soft moonlight and get his first glimpse of war. He was yet to see a battle.
A group of grey schoolboy comrades were burying one of their number beneath a tall pine in the edge of an old field. He joined the circle and watched them. They dug the grave with their bayonets, tenderly wrapped the body in the battle flag of the South and covered it with their hands. One of them recited a beautiful Psalm96 from memory, and not a word was spoken as they drew the damp earth up into a mound97. A whip-poor-will began his song in the edge of the woods as he passed on.
A few yards further a man in grey was cutting a forked limb into a crutch98. Something dark lay huddled99 on the brown straw. It was a wounded man in blue. The Southerner lifted his enemy, and placed the crutch under him.
"Now, partner," he said cheerfully, "you're all right. You'll find the hospital down there by them lights. They'll look out for ye."
Ned wondered vaguely100 how he would really feel under his first baptism of fire. He was only a private soldier in this company which had been ordered East. He had resigned from the first he had helped to raise—the ambitions and intrigues101 of its officers had aroused his disgust and he had taken a place in the ranks of the first company sent to Virginia. He had made up his mind he would wear no signs of rank that were not fairly won on the field of battle.
To-morrow he was going to face it at short range. Everywhere were strewn canteens, knapsacks, broken guns and blankets. He came suddenly on a trench18 behind which the men in blue had fought from dark to dark. It was full of dead soldiers.
His regiment was up before day to move at dawn. His company had been assigned to a regiment of veterans who had fought at Bull Run and had been in three of the battles before Richmond. Their ranks were thin and the Western boys were given a royal welcome.
The seasoned men were in good humor, the new company serious. Ned was carefully shaving by the flickering102 light of the camp fire.
"What the divil are you doin' that for?" his Irish messmate asked in amazement103.
"You want to know the truth, Haggerty?" Ned drawled.
"That's what I want——"
"We're going into our first battle, aren't we?"
"Praise God, we are!"
"And we may come out a corpse104?"
"Yis——"
"I'm going to be a decent one."
"Ah, go'long wid ye—ye bloody young spalpeen—ye're no more afraid than I am!"
"Maybe not, Haggerty, but it's a solemn occasion, and I'm going to look my best."
"Ye'll live ter see many a scrap105, me bye!"
"Same to you, old man! But I'm going to be clean for this one, anyhow."
The regiment marched toward Malvern Hill at the first streak of dawn. It was slow work. Always the artillery ahead were sticking in the mud and the halts were interminable.
The new company grew more and more nervous:
"What's up ahead?"
They asked it at every halt the first three hours. And then their disgust became more pronounced.
"What in 'ell's the matter?" Ned groaned106.
"Don't worry, Sonny," an old corporal called, "you'll get there in time to see more than you want."
The regiment reached the battle lines at one o'clock. The morning hours had been spent in driving in the skirmishers and feeling the enemy's positions. Lee had given orders for a general charge on a signal yell from Armistead's brigade. He was now waiting the arrival of all his available forces before attacking.
Late in the afternoon General D. H. Hill heard a shout followed by a roar of musketry and immediately ordered his division to charge. No other General seemed to have heard it and the charge was made without support. It was magnificent, but it was not war, it was sheer butchery. No army could have stood before the galling fire of those massed batteries.
Ned's regiment had deployed in a wood on the edge of a wide field at the foot of the hill. Their movement caught the eye of a battery on the heights which opened with six guns squarely on their heads.
The struggling, shattered remnants of a regiment which had been all but annihilated108 fell back through these woods, stumbling against the waiting men.
Ned saw a soldier with a Minie ball sticking in the centre of his forehead, the blood oozing109 from the round, clean-cut hole beside the lead. He was walking steadily backward, loading and firing with incredible rapidity. The company halted behind the troops held in reserve, but the man with the ball in his forehead refused to go to the rear. He wouldn't believe that he was seriously hurt. He jokingly asked a comrade to dig the ball out. He did so, and the fellow dropped in his tracks, the blood gushing110 from the wound in a stream.
The uncanny sight had sickened Ned. He looked at his hand and it was trembling like a leaf.
And this division was charging up that awful hill again. Ned saw a private soldier who belonged to one of its regiments111 deliberately112 walk across the field alone and join his comrades as if nothing of importance were going on. And yet the bullets were whistling so thickly that their "Zip! Zip!" on the ground kept the air filled with flying dirt and tufts of grass—a veritable hail of lead through which a sparrow apparently couldn't fly.
The fellow was certainly a fool! No man with a grain of sense would do such a thing alone—maybe with a crowd of cheering men, but only a maniac113 could do it alone—Ned was sure of that.
A shell smashed through the top of a tree, clipped its trunk in two and down it came with a crash that sent the men scampering114.
A solid shot came bounding leisurely115 down the hill and rolled into the woods. A man just in front put out his foot playfully to stop it and it broke his leg.
The shriek116 of shell and the whistle of lead increased in terrifying roar each moment and Ned felt a queer sensation in his chest—a sort of shortness of breath. In a moment he was going to bolt for the rear! He felt it in his bones and saw no way to stop it. He lifted his eyes piteously toward the Colonel who sat erect117 in his saddle stroking the neck of a restless horse with his left hand.
The veteran saw the boy's terror under his trial of fire and his heart went out to him in a wave of fatherly sympathy.
He rode quickly up to Ned:
"Won't you hold my horse's bridle118 a minute, young man, while I use my glasses?" he asked coolly.
Ned's trembling hand caught the reins119 as a drowning man a straw. The act steadied his shaking nerves. As the Colonel slowly lowered his glasses Ned cried through chattering120 teeth:
"D-d-d-on't y-you think—I-I-I—am d-d-doing p-pretty well, C-colonel, f-f-f-for my f-f-ffirst battle?"
The Colonel nodded encouragingly:
"Very well, my boy. It's a nasty situation. You'll make a good soldier."
And then the order to charge!
Across the level field torn by shot and shell, the regiment swept in grey waves. The gaps filled up silently. They started up the hill and met the sleet121 of hissing death. The hill top blazed streams of yellow flame through the pall of smoke. Men were falling—not one by one, but in platoons and squads122, rolling into heaps of grey blood-soaked flesh and rags. The regiment paused, staggered, reeled and rallied.
Haggerty fell just in front of Ned, who was loading and firing with the precision of a machine. If he had a soul—he didn't know it now. The men were ordered to lie down and fire from the ground.
Haggerty caught Ned's eye as it glanced along his musket24 searching for his foe through the cloud of blue black smoke that veiled the world.
"Roll me around, Bye," the Irishman cried, "and make a fince out of me—I'm done for."
Ned paid no attention to his call, and Haggerty pulled his mangled123 body down the hill and doubled himself up in front of his friend.
"Keep down behind me, Bye," he moaned. "I'll make a good fort for ye!"
It was useless to protest, he had erected124 the fort to suit himself and Ned was fighting now behind it. The sight of his dying friend steadied his nerves and sent a thrill of fierce anger like living fire through his veins125. His eye searched the hilltop for his foe. The smoke rolled in dark grey sulphurous clouds down the slope and shut out the sky line. He waited and strained his bloodshot eyes to find an opening. It was no use to waste powder shooting at space. He was too deadly angry now for that.
A puff126 of wind lifted the clouds and the blue men could be seen leaping about their guns. They looked like giants in the smoke fog. Again he fired and loaded, fired and loaded with clock-like, even steady, hand. It was tiresome127 this ramming128 an old-fashioned muzzle-loading musket lying flat on the ground. But with each round he was becoming more and more expert in handling the gun. His mouth was black with powder from tearing the paper ends of the cartridges129. The sulphurous taste of the powder was in his mouth.
From the centre of the field rose the awful Confederate yell again. A regiment of Georgians, led by Gordon were charging. Waiting again for the smoke to clear in front Ned could see the grey waves spread out and caught the sharp word of command as the daring young officers threw their naked swords toward the sky crying:
"Forward!"
And then they met the storm. From grim, black lips on the hill crest130 came the answer to their yell—three hundred and forty mighty131 guns were singing an oratorio132 of Death and Hell in chorus now from those heights. Half the men seemed to fall at a single crash and still the line closed up and rushed steadily on, firing and loading, firing and loading,—running and staggering, then rallying and pressing on again.
On the right ten thousand men under Hill slipped out into line as if on dress parade—long lines of handsome boyish Southerners. The big guns above saw and found them with terrible accuracy. A wide lane of death was suddenly torn through them before they moved. They closed like clock work and with a cheer swept forward to the support of the men who were dying on the blood-soaked slope.
Ned's heart was thumping133 now. He felt it coming, that sharp low order from the Colonel before the words rang from his lips. His hour had come for the test—coward or hero it had to be now. It was funny he had ceased to worry. He had entered a new world and this choking, blinding smoke, the steady thunder of guns, the long sheets of orange fire that flashed and flashed and blazed in three rings from the hill, the ripping canvas of musketry fire in volleys, the dull boom of the great guns on the boats below, were simply a part of the routine of the new life. He had lived a generation since dawn. The years that had gone before seemed a dream. The one real thing was Betty's laughing eyes. They were looking at him now from behind that flaming hill. He must pass those guns to reach her. Not a doubt had yet entered his soul that he would do it. Men were falling around him like leaves in autumn, but this had to be. He saw the end. No matter how fierce this battle, McClellan was only fighting to save his army from annihilation. Lee was destroying him.
The order came at last. The Colonel walked along in front of his men with bared head.
"Now, boys,—that battery on the first crest—we've half their men—charge and take those guns!"
The regiment leaped to their feet and started up the hill. They had lost two hundred men in their first sweep. There were six hundred left.
"Hold your fire until I give the word!" the Colonel shouted.
The smoke was hanging low, and they had made two hundred yards before the blue line saw them through the haze134. The hill blazed and hissed135 in their faces. The massed infantry behind the guns found their marks. Men dropped right and left, sank in grey heaps or fell forward on their faces—some were knocked backwards136 down the slope. Yet without a pause they climbed.
Three hundred yards more and they would be on the guns. And then a sheet of blinding flame from every black-mouthed gun in line double shotted with grape and canister! The regiment was literally137 knocked to its knees. The men paused as if dazed by the shock. The sharp words of cheer and command from their officers and they rallied. From both flanks poured a murderous hail of bullets—guns to the right, left and front, all screaming, roaring, hissing their call of blood.
The Colonel saw the charge was hopeless and ordered his men to fire and fall back fighting. The grey line began to melt into the smoke mists down the hill and disappeared—all save Ned Vaughan. His eyes were fixed on that battery when the order to fire was given. He fired and charged with fixed bayonet alone. He never paused to see how many men were with him. His mind was set on capturing one of those guns. He reached the breastworks and looked behind him. There was not a man in sight. A blue gunner was ramming a cannon. With a savage138 leap Ned was on the boy, grabbed him by the neck and rushed down the hill in front of his own gun before the astounded139 Commander realized what had happened. When he did it was too late to fire. They would tear both men to pieces.
The regiment had rallied in the woods at the edge of the field from which they had first charged.
Ned Vaughan led his prisoner, in bright new uniform of blue, up to the Colonel and reported.
"A prisoner of war, sir!"
The Colonel took off his hat and gazed at the pair:
"Aren't you the boy who held my horse?"
Ned saluted140:
"Yes, sir."
"Then in the name of Almighty141 God, where did you get that man?"
Ned pointed142 excitedly to the hilltop:
"Right yonder, sir,—there's plenty more of 'em up there!"
The Colonel scratched his head, looked Ned over from head to heel and broke into a laugh.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said at last. "Take him to the rear and report to me to-night. I want to see you."
Ned saluted and hurried to the rear with his prisoner.
The sun was slowly sinking in a sea of blood. The red faded to purple, the purple to grey, the grey into the shadows of night and still the guns were thundering from their heights. It was nine o'clock before they were silent and Lee's torn and mangled army lay down among their dead and wounded to wait the dawn and renew the fight. They had been compelled to breast the most devastating143 fire to which an assaulting army had been subjected in the history of war. The trees of the woods had been literally torn and mangled as if two cyclones144 had met and ripped them to pieces.
The men dropped in their tracks to snatch a few hours' sleep.
The low ominous sounds that drifted from the darkness could not be heeded145 till to-morrow. Here and there a lantern flickered as they picked up a wounded man and carried him to the rear. Only the desperately146 wounded could be helped. The dead must sleep beneath the stars. The low, pitiful cries for water guided the ambulance corps as they stumbled over the heaps of those past help.
The clouds drew a veil over the stars at midnight and it began to pour down rain before day. The sleeping, worn men woke with muttered oaths and stood against the trees or squatted147 against their trunks seeking shelter from the flood. As the mists lifted, they looked with grim foreboding but still desperate courage to the heights. Every rampart was deserted. Not one of those three hundred and forty guns remained. McClellan had withdrawn148 his army under the cover of the night to Harrison's Landing.
It would be difficult to tell whose men were better satisfied.
"Thank God, he's gone from there anyhow!" the men in grey cried with fervor149.
Now they could get something to eat, bury their dead and care for all the wounded. McClellan's Peninsula Campaign had ended. His Grand Army had melted from a hundred and ten thousand fighting men in line to eighty-six thousand. The South had lost almost as many.
From the wildest panic into which the advance of his army had thrown Richmond, the Confederate Capital now swung to the opposite extreme of rejoicing for the deliverance, mingled150 with criticism of their leaders for allowing the Federal army to escape at all.
The gloom in Washington was profound.
An excited General rushed to the White House at two o'clock in the morning, roused the President from his bed and pleaded for the immediate107 dispatch of a fleet of transports to Harrison's Landing as the only possible way to save the army from annihilation.
The President soothed151 his fears and sent him home. He was not the man to be thrown into a panic. Yet the incredible thing had happened. His army of more than two hundred thousand men, under able generals, had been hurled back from the gates of Richmond in hopeless, bewildering defeat, and he must begin all over again.
One big ominous fact loomed152 in tragic153 menace from the smoke and flame of this campaign—the South had developed two leaders of matchless military genius—Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. It was a fact the President must face and that without fear or favor to any living man in his own army.
He left Washington for the front at once. He must see with his own eyes the condition of the army. He must see McClellan. The demand for his removal was loud and bitter. And fiercest of all those who asked for his head was the iron-willed Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton, his former champion.
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1
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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4
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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8
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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9
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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12
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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13
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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14
pealed
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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16
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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entrenched
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| adj.确立的，不容易改的(风俗习惯) | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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19
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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21
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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22
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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23
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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26
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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27
mowed
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| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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30
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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33
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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34
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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36
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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38
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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39
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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40
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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41
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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42
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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43
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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44
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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45
wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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46
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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47
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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48
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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50
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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51
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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52
deployed
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的过去式和过去分词 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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53
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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54
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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55
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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56
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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57
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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58
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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59
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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60
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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61
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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62
maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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63
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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64
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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65
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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66
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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67
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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68
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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69
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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70
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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71
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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72
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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73
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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74
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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75
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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76
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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77
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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78
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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79
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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80
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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81
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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82
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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83
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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84
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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85
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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86
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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87
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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88
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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89
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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90
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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91
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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92
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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93
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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94
surmounting
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| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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95
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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96
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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97
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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98
crutch
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| n.T字形拐杖；支持，依靠，精神支柱 | |
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99
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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100
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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101
intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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102
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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103
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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104
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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105
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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106
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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107
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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108
annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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109
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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110
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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111
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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112
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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113
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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114
scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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115
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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116
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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117
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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118
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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119
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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120
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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121
sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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122
squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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123
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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124
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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125
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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126
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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127
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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128
ramming
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| n.打结炉底v.夯实（土等）( ram的现在分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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129
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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130
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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131
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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132
oratorio
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| n.神剧，宗教剧，清唱剧 | |
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133
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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134
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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135
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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136
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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137
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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138
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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139
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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140
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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141
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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142
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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143
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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144
cyclones
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| n.气旋( cyclone的名词复数 )；旋风；飓风；暴风 | |
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145
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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146
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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147
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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148
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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149
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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150
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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151
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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152
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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153
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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