The day and scene were lovely. On the waving wheat-fields and theforests in full foliage, the light of a summer sun fell in flashingsplendor. A slight rain had fallen; the wind was gently blowing; andthe leaves and golden grain were covered with drops which the sunshinechanged to diamonds. Over the exquisite landscape drooped a beautifulrainbow.
Soon blood had replaced the raindrops, and the bright bow spanning thesky was hidden by lurid smoke, streaming aloft from burning buildings,set on fire by shell.
I give but a few words to this first struggle, which I did not witness.
The Federal forces rushed forward, exclaiming:---
"We have come to stay!"
"And a very large portion of them," said one of their officers, GeneralDoubleday, "never left that ground!"
Alas! many thousands in gray, too, "came to stay."
Hill was hard pressed and sent for assistance. Suddenly it appeared fromthe woods on his left, where Ewell's bayonets were seen, coming backfrom the Susquehanna.
Rodes, the head of Ewell's corps, formed line and threw himself into theaction.
Early came up on the left; Rodes charged and broke through the Federalcentre. Gordon, commanding a brigade then, closed in on their rightflank, and the battle was decided.
The great blue crescent was shattered, and gave way. The Confederatespressed on, and the Federal army became a rabble. They retreatedpellmell through Gettysburg, toward Cemetery Hill, leaving theirbattle-flags and five thousand prisoners in our hands.
Such was the first day's fight at Gettysburg. Lee's head of column hadstruck Meade's; each had rapidly been reinforced; the affair became abattle, and the Federal forces were completely defeated.
That was the turning point of the campaign. If this success had onlybeen followed up--if we could only have seized upon and occupiedCemetery Hill!
Then General Meade would have been compelled to retire upon Westminsterand Washington. He would doubtless have fought somewhere, but it is aterrible thing to have an army flushed with victory "after" you!
Cemetery Range was not seized that night. When the sun rose the nextmorning, the golden moment had passed. General Meade was ready.
From right to left, as far as the eye could reach, the heights bristledwith blue infantry and artillery. From every point on the ridge wavedthe enemy's battle flags. From the muzzles of his bronze war-dogs, Meadesent his defiant challenge to his adversary to attack him.
"Come on!" the Federal artillery seemed to mutter fiercely.
And Lee's guns from the ridge opposite thundered grimly in reply,
"We are coming!"
XXIV.
THE ARMY.
Alas!--
That is the word which rises to the lips of every Southerner, above allto every Virginian, who attempts to describe this terrible battle ofGettysburg.
The cheeks flush, the voice falters, and something like a fiery mistblinds the eyes. What comes back to the memory of the old soldierswho saw that fight is a great picture of heroic assaults, ending infrightful carnage only,--of charges such as the world has rarely seen,made in vain,--of furious onslaughts, the only result of which wasto strew those fatal fields with the dead bodies of the flower of theSouthern race.
And we were so near succeeding! Twice the enemy staggered; and one moreblow--only one more! promised the South a complete victory!
When Longstreet attacked Round Top Hill, driving the enemy back totheir inner line, victory seemed within our very grasp--but we could notsnatch it. The enemy acknowledge that, and it is one of their own poetswho declares that
"The century reeled When Longstreet paused on the slope of the hill."
Pickett stormed Cemetery Heights, and wanted only support. Five thousandmen at his back would have given him victory.
There is a name for the battle of Gettysburg which exactly suitsit--"The Great Graze!"
You must go to the histories, reader, for a detailed account of thisbattle. I have not the heart to write it, and aim to give you a fewscenes only. In my hasty memoirs I can touch only upon the salientpoints, and make the general picture.
The ground on which the battle was fought, is familiar to manythousands. A few words will describe it. Cemetery Ridge, where GeneralMeade had taken up his position, is a range of hills running northwardtoward Gettysburg, within a mile of which place it bends off to theright, terminating in a lofty and rock-bound crest.
This crest was Meade's right. His line stretched away southward then,and ended at Round Top Hill, the southern extremity of the range, aboutfour miles distant. From one end to the other of the extensive range,bayonets glistened, and the muzzles of cannon grinned defiance.
Opposite the Cemetery Range was a lower line of hills, called SeminaryRange. Upon this Lee was posted, Ewell holding his left, A. P. Hill hiscentre, and Longstreet his right.
Between the two armies stretched a valley, waving with grain and dottedwith fruit-trees, through which ran the Emmettsburg road, on the westernside of a small stream. The golden grain waved gently; the limpid waterlapsed away beneath grass and flowers; the birds were singing; the sunwas shining--it was the strangest of all scenes for a bloody conflict.
I rode along the line of battle, and curiously scanned the features ofthe landscape. There is a frightful interest connected with ground whichis soon going to become the arena of a great combat. A glance told methat the enemy's position was much the stronger of the two. Would Leeattack it?
From the landscape I turned to look at the army. Never had I seen themso joyous. It would be impossible to convey any idea of the afflatuswhich buoyed them up. Every man's veins seemed to run with quicksilver,instead of blood. Every cheek was glowing. Every eye flashed with superbjoy and defiance. You would have supposed, indeed, that the troops wereunder the effect of champagne or laughing gas. "I never even imaginedsuch courage," said a Federal officer afterward; "your men seemed to bedrunk with victory when they charged us!"
That was scarce an exaggeration. Already on the morning of battle theypresented this appearance. Lying down in line of battle, they laughed,jested, sang, and resembled children enjoying a holiday. On the facesof bearded veterans and boy-soldiers alike was a splendid pride. Thevictories of Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville had electrified thetroops. They thought little of a foe who could be so easily driven; theylooked forward to victory as a foregone conclusion--alas! they did notremember that they held the heights at Fredericksburg; and that Meadeon Cemetery Hill was an adversary very different from Hooker in theSpottsylvania Wilderness!
Such was the spectacle which I witnessed, when after delivering mymessage to General Lee, I rode along the Southern line. I think thegreat commander shared in some measure the sentiment of his troops. Hisbearing was collected; in his eye you could read no trace of excitement;the lips covered by the gray mustache were firm and composed; and hegreeted me with quiet courtesy:--but in the cheeks of the great soldiera ruddy glow seemed to betray anticipated victory.
I confess I shared the general sentiment. That strange intoxication wascontagious, and I was drunk like the rest with the thought of triumph.That triumph would open to us the gates of Washington and bring peace.The North scarcely denied that then--though they may deny it to-day.The whole country was completely weary of the war. There seemed to beno hope of compelling the South to return to the Union. A victory overMeade, opening the whole North to Lee, promised a treaty of peace. Theday had arrived, apparently when the army of Northern Virginia, musketin hand, was about to dictate the terms of that document.
"Lee has only to slip the leash," I thought, as I gazed at the army,"and these war-dogs will tear down their prey!"
Alas! they tore it, but were torn too! they did all at Gettysburg thatany troops could do.
What was impossible, was beyond even their strength.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE WRESTLE FOR ROUND TOP HILL.
From the morning of the second of July to the evening of the third, thefields south of Gettysburg were one great sc
ene of smoke, dust, uproar,blood; of columns advancing and returning; cannon thundering; menshouting, yelling, cheering, and dying; blue mingled with gray in savageand unrelenting battle.
In that smoke-cloud, with the ears deafened, you saw or heard littledistinctly. But above the confused struggle rose two great incidents,which on successive days decided every thing.
The first of them was Longstreet's assault on the enemy's left wing, infront of Round Top Hill.
Lee had displayed excellent soldiership in determining upon thismovement, and it will be seen that it came within an inch of success.Standing upon Seminary Range, near his centre, he had reconnoiteredGeneral Meade's position through his field-glass, with great attention;and this examination revealed the fact that the Federal line wasprojected forward in a salient in front of Round Top Hill, a jaggedand almost inaccessible peak, near which rested General Meade's extremeleft.
If this weak point could be carried, "it appeared" said Lee, "that itspossession would give facilities for assailing and carrying the moreelevated ground and crest beyond."
As to the importance of that crest--namely Round Top Hill--hear GeneralMeade:--
"If they had succeeded in occupying that, it would have prevented mefrom holding any of the ground which I subsequently held to the last."
Lee determined to attack the salient, making at the same time a heavydemonstration--or a real assault--upon the Federal right, oppositeEwell.
All his preparations were not made until the afternoon. Then suddenly,Longstreet's artillery opened its thunders.
At that moment the spectacle was grand. The heights, the slopes, thefields, and the rugged crest opposite, were enveloped in smoke and firefrom the bursting shell. The sombre roar ascended like the bellowing ofa thousand bulls, leaped back from the rocks, and rolled away, in wildechoes through the hills. All the furies seemed let loose, and yet thiswas only the preface.
At four in the evening the thunder dropped to silence, and along thelines of Hood and McLaws, which formed the charging column, ran a wildcheer, which must have reached the ears of the enemy opposite.
That cheer told both sides that the moment had come. The word wasgiven, and Longstreet hurled his column at the blue line occupying apeach-orchard in his front.
The blow was aimed straight at the salient in the Federal line, and inspite of a brave resistance it was swept away; McLaws advancing rapidlytoward the high ground in its rear. At one blow the whole left wing ofGeneral Meade's army seemed thrown into irretrievable confusion, andHood pressing forward on McLaws's right, hastened to seize upon thefamous Round Top, from which he would be able to hurl his thunder uponthe flank and rear of the Federal line of battle.
The scene, like the conflict which now took place, was wild andsingular. The crest of Round Top Hill was a mass of rock, which roseabruptly from the rough and jagged slope. It was unoccupied--forthe sudden overthrow of the force in front of it had not beenanticipated--and one headlong rush on the part of Hood alone seemednecessary to give him possession of the real key of the whole position.
Hood saw that at a glance, and dashed up the slope at the head of hismen. It was scarcely an order of battle which his troops presented atthis moment. But one thought burned in every heart. The men swarmed upthe hill-side; the woods gave back the rolling thunder of theircheers; already the Southern battle-flags carried by the foremost werefluttering on the crest.
The mass rushed toward the red flags; for an instant the gray figureswere seen erect upon the summit--then a sudden crash of musketryresounded--and a mad struggle began with a Federal brigade which hadhastened to the spot.
This force, it is said, was hurried up by General Warren, who findingthe Federal signal-officers about to retire, ordered them, to remain andcontinue waving their flags to the last; and then, seizing on the firstbrigade he could find, rushed them up the slope to the crest.
They arrived just in time. Hood's men were swarming on the crest. A loudcheer arose, but all at once they found themselves face to face with aline of bayonets, while beyond were seen confused and struggling masses,dragging up cannon.
What followed was a savage grapple rather than an ordinary conflict.Only a small part of Hood's force had reached the summit, and this wasassailed by a whole brigade. The fight was indescribable. All thatthe eye could make out for some moments in the dust and smoke, wasa confused mass of men clutching each other, dealing blows with thebutt-ends of muskets, or fencing with bayonets--men in blue and gray,wrestling, cursing, falling, and dying, in the midst of the crash ofsmall-arms, and the thunder of cannon, which clothed the crest in flame.
When the smoke drifted, it was seen that the Confederates had beenrepulsed, and driven from the hill. Hood was falling back slowly, likea wounded tiger, who glares at the huntsman and defies him to the last.The slope was strewed with some of his bravest. The Federal cannonroaring on Round Top Hill, seemed to be laughing hoarsely.
McLaws, too, had fallen back after nearly seizing upon the crest inhis front. The enemy had quickly re-enforced their left, with brigades,divisions, and corps, and the Confederates had been hotly assailed intheir turn. As night descended, the whole Southern line fell back. Thepallid moonlight shone on the upturned faces of the innumerable dead.
Longstreet sat on a fence, cutting a stick with his penknife, when anEnglish officer near him exclaimed:--
"I would not have missed this for any thing?"
Longstreet, laughed grimly.
"I would like to have missed it very much!"[1] he said.
[Footnote 1: His words.]
XXVI.
THE CHARGE OF THE VIRGINIANS.
Lee's great blow at the enemy's left had failed. He had thrown hisentire right wing, under Longstreet, against it. The enemy had beendriven; victory seemed achieved;--but suddenly the blue lines hadrallied, they had returned to the struggle, their huge masses had rolledforward, thrown Longstreet back in turn, and now the pale moon lookeddown on the battlefield where some of the bravest souls of the South hadpoured out their blood in vain.
Lee had accomplished nothing, and one of his great corps was pantingand bleeding. It was not shattered or even shaken. The iron fibre wouldstand any thing almost. But the sombre result remained--Longstreet hadattacked and had been repulsed.
What course would Lee now pursue? Would he retire?
Retire? The army of Northern Virginia lose heart at a mere rebuff? Lee'sveteran army give up the great invasion, after a mere repulse? Troopsand commander alike shrunk from the very thought. One more trial ofarms--something--an attack somewhere--not _a retreat_!
That was the spirit of the army on the night of the second of July.
A flanking movement to draw the enemy out of their works, or a secondattack remained.
Lee determined to attack.
Longstreet and Ewell had accomplished nothing by assailing the rightand left of the enemy. Lee resolved now to throw a column against itscentre--to split the stubborn obstacle, and pour into the gap with thewhole army, when all would be over.
That was hazardous, you will say perhaps to-day, reader. And you havethis immense argument to advance, that it failed. Ah! these arguments_after the event_! they are so fatal, and so very easy.
Right or wrong, Lee resolved to make the attack; and on the third ofJuly he carried out his resolution.
If the writer of the South shrinks from describing the bloody repulse ofLongstreet, much more gloomy is the task of painting that last charge atGettysburg. It is one of those scenes which Lee's old soldiers approachwith repugnance. That thunder of the guns which comes back to memoryseems to issue, hollow and lugubrious, from a thousand tombs.
Let us pass over that tragedy rapidly. It must be touched on in thesememoirs--but I leave it soon.
It is the third of July, 1863. Lee's line of battle, stretching alongthe crest of Seminary Ridge, awaits the signal for a new conflict witha carelessness as great as on the preceding day. The infantry arelaughing, jesting, cooking their rations, and smoking their pi
pes. Theragged cannoneers, with flashing eyes, smiling lips, and faces blackenedwith powder, are standing in groups, or lying down around the pieces ofartillery. Near the centre of the line a gray-headed officer, in plainuniform, and entirely unattended, has dismounted, and is reconnoitringthe Federal position through a pair of field-glasses.
It is Lee, and he is looking toward Cemetery Heights, the Mount St. Jeanof the new Waterloo--on whose slopes the immense conflict is going to bedecided.
Lee gazes for some moments through his glasses at the long rangebristling with bayonets. Not a muscle moves; he resembles a statue. Thenhe lowers the glasses, closes them thoughtfully, and his calm glancepasses along the lines of his army. You would say that this glancepenetrates the forest; that he sees his old soldiers, gay, unshrinking,unmoved by the reverses of Longstreet, and believing in themselves andin him! The blood of the soldier responds to that thought. The face ofthe great commander suddenly flushes. He summons a staff officer andutters a few words in calm and measured tones. The order is given. Thegrand assault is about to begin.
That assault is going to be one of the most desperate in all history.Longstreet's has been fierce--this will be mad and full of headlongfury. At Round Top blood flowed--here the earth is going to be soakedwith it. Gettysburg is to witness a charge recalling that of the sixhundred horsemen at Balaklava. Each soldier will feel that the fate ofthe South depends on him, perhaps. If the wedge splits the tough grain,cracking it from end to end, the axe will enter after it--the work willbe finished--the red flag of the South will float in triumph over a lastand decisive field.
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins. Page 8
