their pockets. A shell struck one of these carrying parties, the two men dying instantly, the thousand rounds in the heavy wooden box going off like firecrackers.
Out in the open field in front of the trench the volleys came pouring back, men loading, some trying to stagger forward a few more feet, then raising rifles to fire again. In spite of the steady rain now coming down, the blanketing fog of smoke choked the field in blindness.
And then the third wave came up the slope, men of Gibbon's division, tough professionals, men of the First Minnesota, the Nineteenth Maine, the Sixty-ninth Pennsylvania, on their right flank Lockwood's brigade.
They slammed up against the backs of the second wave, swarming in, ranks mingling, men shoving each other to step to the front to fire, others then pushing past them.
Only paces away, men of McLaws's brigades; Pender's division; and Pettigrew's, who had been so badly mauled only three days before in front of Gettysburg; Anderson's division, which had gone in on that final doomed charge up Cemetery Hill, stood in place, firing back. Both sides were screaming defiance, firing blindly, more than one man collapsing when shot in the back of the head by a comrade only a few feet in the rear. The line in front of the battery bastions was nearly swept clean; gunners struggled to swing pieces around to pour canister into the flanks, while shot from Henry's batteries continued to pour down.
A brigade of Early's division, not yet engaged, finally swarmed out of their trenches, moving to enfilade the attacking columns, an action that triggered Sickles to order one of his divisions forward to try and catch this flanking column in its flank, though it would be long minutes before Sickles's men could cross the open meadows and come up the slope to engage.
At several points, to the left of the bastion held by Cabell's gunners, and a quarter mile farther down just to the flank of Poague's old position, the Union charge gained the trench, the Confederates grimly giving the few feet of ground, now standing in the open, firing down into the trench, Union soldiers hugging the muddy ground, loading while lying on their backs, rolling up, half standing to fire, then sliding back down.
Over it all a slow but steady rain was now falling, the ground beneath the feet of the combatants churned to a thick mud, wounded falling into it, those in the bottom of the trench getting trampled under, some of them choking to death before bleeding out.
The battle hung poised, seconds were like years, minutes centuries.
Chapter Eighteen
12:45 PM, JULY 4,1863
UNION MILLS
The battle was poised on the most delicate of balances. An officer panicking, a flag bearer falling, perhaps even one man turning, screaming that all was lost, could set off a stampede on either side. In turn, a few men were determined to hang on. An officer oblivious of risk and riding forward, a man who could inspire and lead, could make the decisive difference.
For the Confederates, at that moment, there were four profound advantages, which were at that same instant distinct and terrible disadvantages for the Union. The Confederates had not been forced to advance, all they had had to do was wait, saving their already half-depleted strength for the supreme moment. They were on the high ground, with all the natural advantages that implied, and along most of the front Except where several small breaches had been cut into their line, they were still in the trench or the battery bastions, while their foes were downslope and in the open… and finally, they had a commander who at that moment was inspired to lead, to make the decisions that had to be made second by second. The psychological advantage thus gained was tremendous.
The supreme moment was at hand before Union Mills.
Even as the two breakthroughs cracked into the Confederate line, Lee was galloping back to the rear, not in retreat but with orders, his staff at least grateful that for a few minutes he was relatively out of harm's way except for the continual rain of shot arcing down from the Union batteries.
Rodes's heavy division, minus one brigade under O'Neal, which was up on the forward line, had sat out the bombardment and first assault, lying down in a field of waist-high com, four hundred yards away.
The first ranks could see Lee riding up, waving his straw hat, and the men were instantly up.
'Lee! Lee! Lee!'
Rodes, mounted and at the front of his division, snapped off a salute.
'General, send your men in now!' Lee shouted. 'Reclose the line and then push those people back!'
Rodes needed no further orders. He could see where the battered brigades of McLaws and Anderson were beginning to bend under the strain.
Rodes's First Brigade, Daniel's North Carolinians, already deployed in regimental front, leapt forward on the double, while behind them, the brigades of Dole and Ram-seur shook out from column to line by regiment and began to move toward their left Iverson's brigade, so badly shattered in the fight before Gettysburg, was held back for the moment, Rodes having decided to personally lead the unit after Iverson's ghastly, drunken display three days earlier, which had nearly annihilated the entire unit when he let them advance into a trap, while he hid in the rear, bottle in hand.
Lee started to turn, to go in with them, but this time his staff did revolt, pushing their mounts in front of Traveler, shouting for him to stay back. Again the realization hit him, and slightly embarrassed he nodded an assent
Meade, pacing back and forth nervously, turned yet again, raising his field glasses. It was impossible to tell. The smoke was thickening again, the rain increasing, the effect now being to mingle cloud and smoke into one impenetrable haze, all but obscuring the view.
Sedgwick was by his side. 'Should I go in?' he asked.
And within Meade, at that moment, there was a terrible indecision. To speak an hour ago of forty thousand men at once sweeping forward was one thing; now he was seeing the result Thousands of men were emerging out of the gloom, streaming back, individually, in groups of two or three, helping a wounded comrade, in several cases entire regiments, or what was left of them, moving slowly, sometimes pausing as if debating their course.
The front of the first trench was still visible in places, easy enough to pick out by the carpet of bodies spread before it
Two entire corps were fought out and now word had just come that Sickles, without orders, had thrown at least another division into the fight advancing onto the open.
If that was true, then Sedgwick was now the only true reserve left that and the small remnant of the devastated First Corps, which had marched up during the night
'Do I go in?' Sedgwick asked yet again.
Meade was silent gazing at the heavy columns of Sedgwick, and the ever-increasing flood of beaten men emerging out of the gloom encasing the opposite ridge.
'Sir, what do you want me to do? Should I go in now or wait?'
'Only if Hancock and Slocum break through,' Meade replied.
Meade turned, galloping down the line to see what Sickles was doing, leaving Sedgwick alone.
Longstreet stood with Porter in the shattered bastion built by Cabell and now occupied by Mcintosh's valiant gunners, the Second Rockbridge Artillery posted at the right corner, pouring blast after blast of canister into the smoke, confident that canister would do its work at this distance almost without aiming.
Another of Longstreet's old West Point comrades suddenly went down less than a hundred paces away, John Gibbon struck in the stomach by a canister ball from a Rockbridge gun. John struggled back to his feet clutching the agonizing wound, and continued to scream for his men to press forward.
Another seam in the Confederate line ruptured, as men from half a dozen regiments, all mingled together, pushed up across the road and the ruins of the Shriver house, led by the men of the old Philadelphia Brigade, yet again Irishmen under green flags. The hard-fighting Sixty-ninth Pennsylvania led the way, breaking over the trench, gaining a small inverted V lodgment, bending several companies back to hold either flank. It might have gained
