At the word, they move out, shoulder to shoulder, at common time.
Descending the slope, they enter on the valley, and move steadily
toward the heights.
The advance of the column, with its battle-flags floating proudly, and
its ranks closed up and dressed with the precision of troops on parade,
is a magnificent spectacle. Old soldiers, hardened in the fires of
battle, and not given to emotion, lean forward watching the advance of
the Virginians with fiery eyes. You would say, from the fierce clutch
of the gaunt hands on the muskets, that they wish to follow; and many
wish that.
The column is midway the valley, and beginning to move more rapidly,
when suddenly the Federal artillery opens. The ranks are swept by round
shot, shell, and canister. Bloody gaps appear, but the line closes up,
and continues to advance. The fire of the Federal artillery redoubles.
All the demons of the pit seem howling, roaring, yelling, and
screaming. The assaulting column is torn by a whirlwind of canister,
before which men fall in heaps mangled, streaming with blood, their
bosoms torn to pieces, their hands clutching the grass, their teeth
biting the earth. The ranks, however, close up as before, and the
Virginians continue to advance.
From common time, they have passed to quick time--now they march at the
double-quick.
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