Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1905-07-27
Of wounded hobblinr painfully bach

again lne cheering, Danner-WaVlnS, 1re-
flashing ranks of his devoted battal-
ions sweep down the gentle slope I'M
til almost lost in the smoke of the op-
posite lines, then slowly settle to a
halt, ~astounded, for though full half
of its left wing seems shot out of line.
and the Hoosiers and Black Hats are
shrunk to half their original strength;
there, shoulder to shoulder, daring, de-
faint. indomitable stands the brigade,
the swart faces of the men lit by the
flash of their guns, and Ewell, grim
old soldier, borne to the rear with a
shattered thigh, groans to his mourn-
full aides 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 im%precation, ere they issue
their next order, TRY again." And
this time, Trimble, too, drives in with
Lawton, only to see that machinelike
regiment to the east of the Black Hats,
despite the numbers dropping in their
tracks and %dribbling away from the
extreme right under the deluge of
shrapnel from the southern guns, doing
more fancy drill in front of the foe,
changing front forward by company
under command of that gamecock of
a Northumberland, and then pouring
whitening fire into the left of the Louis
lana men. TRY again." says jack, and
try they do, manfully, loyally-but
heavens, what can human valor win
against iron resolution? Two of Doub-
leday's battslions, one a mere skeleton
like most of those Of Baylor's and
Taliaferro's, have ranged up in the
gaps Of the union brigade a shadowy
fabric now, visible only in the flash OF
the guns, but as Paul Ladue trots
through the groups where surgeons and
s~tretchermen are trying to care for the
vast numbers Of wounded, he looks in
vain for a division commander to
whom to deliver Jackson's last order
and the news that Ewell is down
Taliaferro, too, has been borne to the
rear, and Ladue rides on after Starke
to bid him take command. Gods, what
a sight, what a shambles, he finds at
the ear of that line!-dead. dying and
crippled by ore of the "Stonewalls."
Three colonies, Neff, Grisby and Bolts
have been shot from their steeds, two
Of them straight to their graves; four
majors are down of the Virginia COM
mand, and Walker, colonel of Tadia-
ferro's Tenth. Full half the fighting
force of the Second and Fourth Vir-
ginia are stretched on the field, as,
for the last time, they close in on the
center in front Of the now almost in
visible line Of their foes, and with
strength, cartridges, hope all spent
and gone, they drop their useless rife
butts to earth and lean exhausted On
the hot, black muzzles. At least they
hold the ground.
So, too, does that stern, silent, iron
command across those so yards of
smoking void, with obstinate deter
mination," writes Old Jack, in rueful
admission Of the stubborn valor of his
foe. And after all what has he ac-
complished? What has he not done this
night but blunder? All he had to do
was to remain there in concealment
beyond that unfinished railway grade,
resting in the shady woods, and, all
unconscious Of his presence, the union
brigades would have passed him by,
leaving Ricketts, far in the rear to be
cut off, crushed or captured. But the
sight Of 5000 Yankees marching along
almost parallel to his front, all unsup-
ported, was too much for even such
piety as Jackson's. Ordinarily he had
done wonders with a dozen regiments
nearly as small as these. Tonight he
sends in twice that number to assail
a smaller force, and Is fought to a
stand within an hour. He has gained
nothing. He has lost one-third of his
best and bravest-his Virginians. He
has betrayed his position to the enc
my, for Sigel, away to the southeast,
has heard the sound of battle. and Nc
Lean, brave leader of one of his few
American ~brigades, watches the des-
perate struggle from Ladue's old look
out at the Henry house, and Pope,
skillfully directing his diverging col.
umn to trap Jackson at C%entreville,
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 nine, but
that tells him the tale of one more
trick of Jackson's-the ~time-honored
tale of the Irishman's flea.
But it opens Pope's otherwise blinded
eyes, changes in toto his plans for the
morrow, and bids him turn his col
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 dis
lance 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
is full of wounded. The regimental
are slowly withdrawing
their wearied men to the line of the
pike, leaving strong pickets to protect
the surgeons and their stretcher- bear
ers at the front. 1t is a dramatic scene
when that dark-eyed soldier, COM
mander of the Seventh, rides in to re-
port to his brigade chief concerning
the regiment that nauctin ttrnonlnrD