by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XVII
GLENDALE AND MALVERN HILLS
Captain de Banyan was as cool and indifferent to danger as though he hadbeen shot-proof. Cannon-balls and shell flew through the air; but theveteran paid no attention to them--except that once in a while theyreminded him of Magenta, or some other of the numerous battle-fieldswhere he had displayed his valor. There was little fighting for ourregiment at this point, though there was a sharp action on the right ofthe position.
The rebels attacked our forces with tremendous vigor at Savage's Station.It was believed by their generals that the Union army was utterlydemoralized; that it was retreating in disorder towards the James River;and that a vigorous onslaught would result in its capture. The firstintimation of the blunder was received at Savage's Station, where theConfederates were decisively repulsed; yet the hope was not abandoned ofending the war by the destruction of the Army of the Potomac. The hostsof the rebellion were poured down the roads, where they could interceptthe loyal forces; and the full extent of their blunder was realized onlyat Malvern Hills.
At noon our regiment marched through White Oak Swamp, and late in theevening bivouacked in a field near the road. During all this time theroad was filled with troops, and with trains of army wagons on their wayto the new "base." Very early the next morning, the march was resumed. Itwas an exceedingly hot day, and the troops suffered severely from theheat. Somers was nearly exhausted when the regiment halted at noon near achurch, which the surgeons had already occupied as a hospital. Butnothing could disturb the equanimity of Captain de Banyan. If anopportunity offered, he rested, and went to sleep amid the screamingshells as readily as though he had been in his chamber in the "FifthAvenue." It was not quite so hot as it was at Magenta, nor the marchquite so severe as before Solferino, nor the shot quite so thick as atChapultepec. He never grumbled himself, and never permitted any one elseto do so. If Somers ventured to suggest that events were rather hard uponhim, he wondered what he would have done if he had been at Magenta,Solferino, Balaclava, or Chapultepec.
Somers was disposed to make the best of the circumstances; and thoughhungry, tired and nearly melted, he sustained himself with unfalteringcourage amid the trials of that eventful march. All day long, the tide ofarmy wagons and cattle flowed down the road; and the brigade remainednear the church at Glendale, waiting for them to pass. At dark the orderwas given to move forward, while the roar of cannon and musketryreverberated on the evening air, assuring the weary veterans that thebaptism of blood was at hand for them, as it had been before for theircomrades in arms.
The regiment followed a narrow road through the woods, which was throngedwith the _debris_ of the conflict, hurled back by the fierce assaults ofthe rebels. The cowardly skulkers and the noncombatants of the engagedregiments were here with their tale of disaster and ruin; and, judgingfrom the mournful stories they told, the once proud Army of the Potomachad been utterly routed and discomfited. Cowards with one bar, cowardswith two bars, cowards with no bar, and cowards with the eagle on theirshoulders, repeated the wail of disaster; and the timid would have shrunkfrom the fiery ordeal before them, if the intrepid officers and the massof the rank and file had not been above the influence of the poltroons'trembling tones and quaking limbs.
"Forward, my brave boys! I've been waiting all my lifetime for such ascene as this!" shouted Captain de Banyan, as he flourished his swordafter the most approved style.
"Don't mind the cowards!" said Somers, as the stragglers poured out theirhowls of terror.
There was little need of these stirring exhortations; for the men were aseager for the fight as the officers, and laughed with genuine glee at thepitiful aspect of the runaways. They advanced in line of battle to thesupport of the hard-pressed troops in front of them, and poured awithering fire into the enemy. With that fiendish yell which the Southernsoldiers invariably use in the hour of battle, they rushed forward with afury which was madness, and into which no fear of death entered.
"They are coming!" shouted Somers, as the legions of rebellion surgeddown upon the line, yelling like so many demons, as though they expectedthe veterans to be vanquished by mere noise. "Stand steady, my men!"
"That reminds me of the Russian advance at Magenta," said Captain deBanyan, who happened to pass near the spot where Somers stood.
"The Austrians, you mean," replied Somers, trying to keep as cool andunmoved as his companion.
"Excuse me; I meant the Austrians," replied the captain. "The factis----Forward, my brave fellows!" roared he as the order came down theline.
The enemy had been temporarily checked, and the brigade advanced topursue the advantage gained. They poured another terrible volley into therebels; when a regiment of the latter, infuriated by whiskey and thefierce goadings of their officers, rushed down with irresistible forceupon a portion of the Union line, and succeeded in making a partial breakin our regiment. The only remaining line officer in one of the companieswhere the rupture occurred was wounded at this critical moment, and borneunder the feet of the excited combatants.
"Lieutenant Somers, take command of that company!" shouted the colonel,as he dashed towards the imperiled portion of the line.
Somers made haste to obey the order when the line was giving way beforethe impetuous charge. He felt that the safety of the whole army dependedupon himself at that momentous instant, and that on the salvation of thearmy rested the destiny of his country. What was the life of a singleman, of a hundred thousand even, compared with the fearful issue of thatmoment? It was the feeling of the young soldier, and he was ready to laydown his life for the flag which symbolized the true glory of the nation.
"Rally round me!" he cried, as he discharged his revolver into the breastof a brave captain who was urging his company forward with the mostunflinching resolution. "Down with them!" he shouted, as he waved hissword above his head.
"Hurrah!" roared a brave sergeant near him, and the cry was taken up bythe gallant fellows who had been pressed back by sheer force of numbers.
"Forward!" shouted Somers, as he dashed down a bayonet, which would havetransfixed him on the spot if he had not been on the alert.
The men rallied, and stood boldly up to the work before them. They wereinspired by the example of the young lieutenant; and the rebel regimentslowly and doggedly retired, leaving many of their number dead or woundedon the field, and a small number as prisoners in the hands of Somers'snew command.
After alternate repulses and successes, the rebels were signally defeatedand driven back. It was a sharp and decisive struggle; but again had thearmy been saved from destruction, and the long line of army wagons stillpursued its way in safety towards the waters of the James.
Again had the rebel general's brilliant calculation failed. His troops,maddened by the fires of the whiskey demon, had done all that men orfiends could do; but the trained valor of the Army of the Potomac hadagain saved the country. Onward it marched towards the goal of safetyunder the sheltering wings of the gunboat fleet in the river.
All night long the men marched, with frequent intervals of rest, as themovements of the army trains required them. There was no sleep, evenafter that hard-fought battle; no real rest from the exciting and wearingevents of the day. There was little or no food to be had; and thefainting soldiers, though still ready to fight and march in theirweakness, longed for the repose of a few hours in camp. But not yet wasthe boon to be granted. On the following morning, our regiment arrived atMalvern Hills, where they were again formed in line of battle, inreadiness to receive the menacing hosts of the rebels.
"We are all right now, Somers," said Captain de Banyan while they werewaiting for the onset.
"Not quite yet, captain. Don't you see those signal-flags on the housesyonder?"
"They mean something, of course. I did not intend to say there will be nofighting; only, that we have a good position, and all the rebels in theConfederacy can't start us now."
"Those flags indicate that the rebels are moving."
"Let
them come; the sooner the better, and the sooner it will be over.Hurrah!" exclaimed the captain, as the inspiring strains of the band inthe rear saluted his ears.
Cheer after cheer passed along the extended lines as the notes of the"Star-spangled Banner" thrilled the hearts of the weary, faintingsoldiers. The bands had not been heard during the operations in front ofRichmond; and their music, as Sergeant Hapgood expressed it, "soundedlike home."
"That does me good, Somers," continued the captain. "There's nothing likemusic for the nerves. It wakes men up, and makes them forget all theirtroubles. Forward, the light brigade!" he added, flourishing his sword inthe air. "I suppose you know that poem, Somers?"
"Of course; I know it by heart; read it in school the last day I everwent."
"Did you, indeed?"
"Nothing very singular about that, is there?"
"Rather a remarkable coincidence, I should say," replied the captain witheasy indifference, as he twirled his sword on the ground.
"I don't see it."
"You read the poem at school, and I was in that charge."
"You?"
"Yes, my boy. I was a captain in that brigade. But what called thecircumstance to my mind was the music which struck up just now. I had abugler in my company who played 'Hail, Columbia' during the whole of thefight."
"'Hail, Columbia?'" demanded Somers.
"Certainly; the fellow had a fancy for that tune; and though it wasn'texactly a national thing to the British army, he always played it when hegot a chance. Well, sir, I think that bugler did more than any other manin the charge of the light brigade. He never lost a note, and it firedthe men up to the pitch of frenzy."
"He was a brave fellow," replied Somers languidly; for he was toothoroughly worn out to appreciate the stories of his veteran companion.
"He was the most determined man I ever met in my life. He was killed inthe charge, poor fellow; but he had filled his bugle so full of wind,that the music did not cease till full five minutes after he wasstone-dead."
"Come, come, captain! that's a little too bad," said Somers seriously.
"Too bad? Well, I should not be willing to take oath that the time wasjust five minutes after the bugler died. I did not take out my watch, andtime it; and, of course, I can only give you my judgment as to theprecise number of minutes."
"You are worse than Baron Munchausen, who told a story something likethat; only his was the more reasonable of the two."
"Somers, my boy! you have got a villainously bad habit of discreditingthe statements of a brother-officer and a gentleman," said Captain deBanyan seriously.
"And you have got a bad habit of telling the most abominable stories thatever proceeded from the mouth of any man."
"We'll drop the subject, Somers; for such discussions lead to unpleasantresults. Do you see that rebel battery?" added the captain, pointing to aroad a mile off, where the enemy had taken position to shell the Unionline.
"I see it."
The rebel battery opened fire, which was vigorously answered by the otherside. The scene began to increase in interest as the cannonade extendedalong the whole line; and, through the entire day, there raged the mostfurious artillery conflict of the war. The rebel masses were hurled timeafter time against the Union line; but it maintained its position like awall of iron, while thousands of the enemy were recklessly sacrificed inthe useless assault. General M---- had probably drunk more than his usualquantity of whiskey; and, though he was as brave as a lion, hundreds ofhis men paid the penalty with their lives of his rashness andindiscretion.
Night came again upon a victorious field, while hundreds of weepingmothers in the neighboring city sighed for the sons who would return nomore to their arms; and while mothers wept, fathers groaned and sistersmoaned, the grand army of the Confederacy had been beaten, and the proudrulers of an infatuated people were trembling for their own safety in thepresence of the ruin with which defeat threatened them.
After the battle commenced the movement of the Army of the Potomac downthe river to Harrison's Landing. The rain fell in torrents, and thesingle road was crowded with troops and wagons. Though the exhaustedsoldiers slept, even while the guns of the enemy roared in front of them,and during the brief halts which the confusion in the road caused, therewas no real repose. The excitement of the battle and the retreat, and theundefinable sense of insecurity which their situation engendered,banished rest. Tired Nature asserted her claims, and the men yielded tothem only when endurance had reached its utmost limit.
At Harrison's Landing, the work of intrenching the position wasimmediately commenced; and it was some days before the army were entirelyassured that defeat and capture were not still possible. The failure ofthe campaign was not without its effect upon the troops. They felt, that,instead of marching under their victorious banners into the enemy'scapital, they had been driven from their position. It was not disaster,but it was failure. Though the soldiers were still in good condition, andas ready as ever to breast the storm of battle, they were in a measuredispirited by the misfortune.
General McClellan and General Lee had each failed to accomplish hispurpose. It was the intention of the latter to send Stonewall Jacksoninto the rear of the Union army, cut it off from its base of supplies,and then attack in front and on the left. The plan was defeated byGeneral McClellan's change of base, which was forced upon him by thecutting-off of his communications with the Pamunkey River. The Uniongenerals, who were first attacked on the right, supposed they wereconfronted by Jackson, who had come down to flank them in this direction;while Lee intended that he should attack farther down the Peninsula. Eachcommanding general, to some extent, mistook the purpose of the other.Whatever errors were made by the grand players in this mighty game, aboutone thing there can be no mistake--that the courage and fortitude of therank and file saved the Army of the Potomac, and pushed aside the mightydisaster in which its ruin would have involved the country. All honor tothe unnamed heroes who fought those great battles, and endured hardshipswhich shall thrill the souls of Americans for ages to come!
