The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-11-26
THE IRON BRIGADE
A STORY OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC

precision. playing at parade at the edge
of the grave" says Ewell, comes forward,
guide center, its color bearer out TO the
front, its right and left general guides on
the line, its captains sprung TO the outer
TANKS of their companies, for all the world
as though they were calmly doing battalion
drill at Belle Plaine. Its dandy lieuten-
ant colonel is in command, he of the ia
nous NAME, for already its colonel and ma
jor have been helped TO the rear, shot al
most as they issued from the wood. AL
ready little C'Connor, heroic leader of the
Black Hats, MORALLY stricken, is lying
gasping in rear OF his wrathful, swift-thin-
ming ranks. Then gallant May, major of
the cheering Hoosiers, he whom we saw
his wounded horse to the arms of his men,
his soldier spirit fitting away with the
close of the day. Already. far on the right,
straight forward past Gibbons smoking
guns. halts Ills companies on the line with
l Hamilton's stalwart Seventh, and, all four
regiments now, the men OF the West are
blazing red against the black background
of the distant woods, for night and hell
seem to come down together. In the fierc-
est attack of the hot campaign Ewell and
Taliaferro, five to one in point of brigades,
two to one in point of numbers, one to one
in point of result. bear down on the ranks
of that gallant command, supple as steel
as it leaps to the fight, rigid as rock as it
counters the blow, yielding never a foot to
that splendid advance.
shall iron break the Northern iron-or
steel?' mutters Old Jack in the words of
the prophet, his eyes filled with trouble, his
teeth firm set, as once again the cheering,
banner,waving, fre-fashing ranks of his
devoted battalions sweep down the gentle
slope until almost lost in the smoke of the
opposite lines, then slowly settle to a halt,
astounded, for, though full half of its left
wing seems shot out Of line, and the Hoo
siers and Black Hats are shrunk to half
their original strength, there, shoulder to
shoulder. daring, defiant, indomitable,
stands the brigade, the swart faces of the
men lit by the fash of their guns, and
Ewell, grim old soldier, borne to the rear
with a shattered thigh, groans to his
mournful aids that at last the division has
met its match.
Jackson's pale face is rigid as he himself
bends over his loyal second in command,
and his lips move in prayer, never in i'm
precation, ere they issue their next order,
TRY again" And this time Trimble. too,
drives in with Lawton, only to see that ma
chinelike regiment to the east of the Black
Hats, despite the numbers dropping in their
tracks and dribbling away from the ex-
IRENE right under the deluge of shrapnel
from the Southern guns, doing more fancy
drill in front of the foe, changing front for
ward by company under command of that
gamecock of a lieutenant colonel, and then
Louisiana men. "Try again." says Jack,
and try they do-manfully, loyally-but
heavens. what can human valor win
against iron resolution? Two of Double
days battalions, one a mere skeleton, like
most of those of Baylor's and Taliaferro's,
have ranged up in the gaps of the Union
uIlSdue, q SndUOWy IdDrlc now, visible only
in the flash of the guns, but as Paul Ladue
trots through the groups where surgeons
and stretchermen are trying to care for the
vast numbers of wounded he looks in vain
for a division commander to WHOM to de-
liver Jackson's last order and the news
that Ewell is down. Taliaferro, too, has
been borne to the rear, and Ladue rides on
Gods, what a sight, what a shambles, he
finds at the rear of that line-dead, dying
and crippled by scores of the "Stonewalls."
/ Three cOlOn0iS-Nen. GrigShv and ROtfS-
have been shot from their steeds, two of
them straight to their graves; four majors
Walker, colonel of Taliaferro's Tenth. Full
half the fighting force of the Second and
Fourth Virginia are stretched on the field,
as, for the last time, they close in on the
center in front of the now almost invisible
line of their foes, and with strength, cart
ridges, hope all spent and gone, they drop
their useless rifle butts to earth and lean
exhausted on the hot, black muzzles. AT
least they hold their ground.
So, too, does that stern, silent, iron COM
mand across those fifty yards of smoking
void, with obstinate determination
writes Old Jack in rueful admission of the
stubborn valor of his foe. And, after all,
not done this night but blunder? All he
had to do was to remain there in conceal
ment beyond that unfinished railway grade,
resting in the shady woods, and, all uncon-
scious of his presence, the Union brigades
would have passed him by. The division
commander had no cavalry TO scout for
him. the few fankers thrown out to the
north by Hatch found nothing until, look
ing back from the low ground about Grove
ton, they saw the batteries trot out on the
open slope, Left unmolested to obey its
orders, that fine division would have gone
clear on to Centerville, leaving Ricketts, far
in rear TO be cut off, crushed or captured.
But the sight of 5000 Yankees marching
along almost parallel to his front, all I'M
supported, was too much for even such
piety as Jackson's. Ordinarily he had done
wonders with a dozen regiments nearly as
email as these Tn-nioht hn GAndG a. f.sZ
that number 70 aSsail a smaller force, and
is fought TO a stand within the hour. He
has gained nothing. He has lost one-third
of his best and bravest-hiS Virginians. He
has betrayed his position TO the enemy, for
Sigel, away to the southeast, has heard the
sound of battle. and Mclean. brave leader
of one Of His few American brigades,
watches the desperate struggle from La
dues old lookout at the Henry house. and
Pope, skillfully directing his diverging col
umns to trap Jackson at Centerville, hears
over the left shoulder. far over Bull run,
the furious cannonade a long league behind
him, the storm OF a battle that only dies out
at 9. but that tells him the tale of one more
trick OF Jackson,s-the time-honored tale OF
the lriShmanS flea.
But it opens Pope's otherwise blinded
eyes, changes in toto his plans for the NOR
row, and bids him turn his columns on
Groveton. Jackson's blunder has taken
much from his own fame, added much TO
those OF another, and given the Badgers
and Hoosiers the title they rejoice in ever
thereafter-the name of the Iron Brigade.
Sore times are these, this black, moonless
night, as, within hailing distance of each
other, officers and men OF the opposing
forces go cropping about with glimmering
lights, looking for friends among the slain.
Sad hearts are these beating in the bosoms
of the group of Union generals in the fence
corner back OF the moaning wood. for il is
full OF wounded. The regimental command
ers are slowly withdrawing their wearied
men to the line OF the pike, leaving strong
pickets to protect the surgeons and their
stretcher-bearers at the front. 1t is a dra-
matte scene when that dark-eyed soldier,
commander of the Seventh, rides in 10 re-
port to his brigade chief concerning the
regiment that caustic regular has some
times misjudged. What do you think OF
the Seventh nowg' is the irrepressible
question just before the colonel slips, faint
ing. from his saddle, and then and not until
then permits 10 be known that all the time
' as he held his men to their desperate work.