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An Original Belle, a novel by Edward Payson Roe

Chapter 35. The Grand Assault

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_ CHAPTER XXXV. THE GRAND ASSAULT

"After seeming ages had passed," Blauvelt resumed, having taken a few moments of rest, "the fire of our artillery slackened and soon ceased, and that of the rebete also became less rapid and furious. We saw horses brought up, and some of our batteries going to the rear at a gallop. Could our guns have been silenced? and was disaster threatening us? Our anxiety was so great that the two correspondents and I rushed out and were speedily reassured. There was our infantry, still in line, and we soon saw that reserve batteries were taking the place of those withdrawn. We afterward learned that General Meade and brave General Hunt, Chief of Artillery, had ordered our guns to be quiet and prepare for the assault which they knew would follow the cannonade.

"The wind blew from us towards the enemy, and our unbroken lines were in view. All honor to the steadfast men who had kept their places through the most awful artillery combat ever known on this continent. For nearly two mortal hours the infantry had been obliged to lie still and see men on every side of them torn and mangled to death; but like a wide blue ribbon, as far as the eye could reach, there they lay with the sunlight glittering on their polished muskets. The rebels' fire soon slackened also. We now mounted the friendly rock, and I was busy with my glass again. As the smoke lifted, which had covered the enemy's position, I saw that we had not been the only sufferers. Many of their guns were overturned, and the ground all along their line was thick with prostrate men.

"But they and their guns were forgotten. Their part in the bloody drama was to be superseded, and we now witnessed a sight which can scarcely ever be surpassed. Emerging from the woods on the opposite ridge, over a mile away, came long lines of infantry. Our position was to be assaulted. I suppose the cessation of our firing led the enemy to think that our batteries had been silenced and the infantry supports driven from the hill. The attacking column was forming right under our eyes, and we could see other Confederate troops moving up on the right and left to cover the movement and aid in carrying it out.

"There was bustle on our side also, in spite of the enemy's shells, which still fell thickly along our line. New batteries were thundering up at a gallop; those at the front, which had horses left, were withdrawn; others remained where they had been shattered and disabled, fresh pieces taking position beside them. The dead and wounded were rapidly carried to the rear, and the army stripped itself, like an athlete, for the final struggle.

"Our batteries again opened with solid shot at the distant Confederate infantry, but there was only the hesitation on their part incident to final preparation. Soon on came their centre rapidly, their flank supports, to right and left, moving after them. It proved to be the launching of a human thunderbolt, and I watched its progress, fascinated and overwhelmed with awe."

"Were you exposed at this time to the enemy's shells?" Marias asked.

"Yes, but their fire was not so severe as it had been, and my interest in the assault was so absorbing that I could scarcely think of anything else. I could not help believing that the fate of our army, perhaps of the country, was to be decided there right under my eyes, and this by an attack involving such deadly peril to the participants that I felt comparatively safe.

"The scene during the next half-hour defies description. All ever witnessed in Roman amphitheatres was child's play in comparison. The artillery on both sides had resumed its heavy din, the enemy seeking to distract our attention and render the success of their assault more probable, and we concentrating our fire on that solid attacking column. As they approached nearer, our guns were shotted with shells that made great gaps in their ranks, but they never faltered. Spaces were closed instantly, and on they still came like a dark, resistless wave tipped with light, as the sun glinted on their bayonets through rifts of smoke.

"As they came nearer, our guns in front crumbled and decimated the leading ranks with grape and canister, while other batteries farther away to the right and left still plowed red furrows with shot and shell; but the human torrent, although shrinking and diminishing, flowed on. I could not imagine a more sublime exhibition of courage. Should the South rear to the skies a monument to their soldiers, it would be insignificant compared with that assaulting column, projected across the plain of Gettysburg.

"At the foot of the ridge the leaders of this forlorn hope, as it proved, halted their troops for a moment. As far as the smoke permitted me to see, it seemed that the supporting Confederate divisions had not kept pace with the centre. Would the assault be made? The familiar rebel yell was a speedy answer, as they started up the acclivity, firing as they came. Now, more vivid than the sunlight, a sheet of fire flashed out along our line, and the crash of musketry drowned even the thunder of the cannon.

"The mad impulse of battle was upon me, as upon every one, and I rushed down nearer our lines to get a better view, also from the instinctive feeling that that attack must be repulsed, for it aimed at nothing less than the piercing of the centre of our army. The front melted away as if composed of phantoms, but other spectral men took their place, the flashes of their muskets outlining their position. On, on they came, up to our front line and over it. At the awful point of impact there was on our side a tall, handsome brigadier, whose black eyes glowed like coals. How he escaped so long was one of the mysteries of battle. His voice rang out above the horrid din as he rallied his men, who were not retreating, but were simply pushed back by the still unspent impetus of the rebel charge. I could not resist his appeal, or the example of his heroism, and, seizing a musket and some cartridges belonging to a fallen soldier, I was soon in the thick of it. I scarcely know what happened for the next few moments, so terrible were the excitement and confusion. Union troops and officers were rushing in on all sides, without much regard to organization, under the same impulse which had actuated me. I found myself firing point-blank at the enemy but a few feet away. I saw a rebel officer waving his hat upon his sword, and fired at him. Thank Heaven I did not hit him! for, although he seemed the leading spirit in the charge, I would not like to think I had killed so brave a man. In spite of all our efforts, they pushed us back, back past the battery we were trying to defend. I saw a young officer, not far away, although wounded, run his gun a little forward with the aid of the two or three men left on their feet, fire one more shot, and fall dead. Then I was parrying bayonet thrusts and seeking to give them. One fierce-looking fellow was making a lunge at me, but in the very act fell over, pierced by a bullet. A second later the rebel officer, now seen to be a general, had his hand on a gun and was shouting, 'Victory!' but the word died on his lips as he fell, for at this moment there was a rush in our rear. A heavy body of men burst, like a tornado, through our shattered lines, and met the enemy in a hand-to-hand conflict.

"I had been nearly run over in this charge, and now regained my senses somewhat. I saw that the enemy's advance was checked, that the spot where lay the Confederate general would mark the highest point attained by the crimson wave of Southern valor, for Union troops were concentrating in overwhelming numbers. The wound in my hand had broken out afresh. I hastened to get back out of the melee, the crush, and the 'sing' of bullets, and soon reached my old post of observation, exhausted and panting. The correspondents were still there, and one of them patted me on the shoulder in a way meant to be encouraging, and offered to put my name in his paper, an honor which I declined. We soon parted, unknown to each other. I learned, however, that the name of the gallant brigadier was Webb, and that he had been wounded. So also was General Hancock at this point.

"The enemy's repulse was now changed into a rout. Prisoners were brought in by hundreds, while those retreating across the plain were followed by death-dealing shot and shell from our lines. As I sat resting on my rock of observation, I felt that one could not exult over such a foe, and I was only conscious of profound gratitude over my own and the army's escape. Certainly if enough men, animated by the same desperate courage, had taken part in the attack, it would have been irresistible.

"As soon as I saw that the battle at this point was practically decided, I started back towards our left with the purpose of finding my regiment and our surgeon, for my hand had become very painful. I was so fortunate as to meet with my command as it was being moved up within a few rods of the main line of the Third Corps, where we formed a part of the reserve. Joining my little company and seeing their familiar faces was like coming home. Their welcome, a cup of coffee, and the redressing of my wound made me over again. I had to answer many questions from the small group of officers remaining, for they, kept in the rear all day, had not yet learned much about the battle or its results.

"While I gladdened their hearts with the tidings of our victory, our surgeon growled: 'I'll have you put under arrest if you don't keep quiet. You've been doing more than look on, or your hand would not be in its present condition.'

"Soon after I fell asleep, with my few and faithful men around me, and it was nearly midnight when I wakened."

"It's very evident that none of your present audience is inclined to sleep," Marian exclaimed, with a deep breath.

"And yet it's after midnight," Mr. Vosburgh added. "I fear we are taxing you, captain, far beyond your strength. Your cheeks, Marian, are feverish."

"I do not feel weary yet," said the young officer, "if you are not. Imagine that I have just waked up from that long nap of which I have spoken. Miss Marian was such a sympathetic listener that I dwelt much longer than I intended on scenes which impressed me powerfully. I have not yet described my search for Strahan, or given Mr. Merwyn such hints as my experience affords. Having just come from the field, I do not see that he could gain much by undue haste. He can accomplish quite as much by leaving sometime tomorrow. To be frank, I believe that the only place to find Strahan is under a rebel guard going South. Our troops may interpose in time to release him; if not, he will be exchanged before long."

"In a matter of this kind there should be no uncertainty which can possibly be removed," Merwyn said, in a husky voice. "I shall now save time by obtaining the information you can give, for I shall know better how to direct my search. I shall certainly go in the morning."

"Yes, captain," said Marian, eagerly. "Since you disclaim weariness we could listen for hours yet. You are a skilful narrator, for, intensely as your story has interested me, you have reserved its climax to the last, even though your search led you only among woful scenes in the hospitals."

"On such scenes I will touch as lightly as possible, and chiefly for Mr. Merwyn's benefit; for if Strahan had been left on the field, either killed or wounded, I do not see how he could have escaped me." Then, with a smile at the young girl, he added: "Since you credit me with some skill as a story-teller, and since my story is so long, perhaps it should be divided. In that case what I am now about to relate should be headed with the words, 'My search for Strahan.'" _

Read next: Chapter 36. Blauvelt's Search For Strahan

Read previous: Chapter 34. A Glimpse Of War, Continued

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