- description
- # 3 P.M.
## Overview
"3 P.M." is a segment of poetry, extracted from the larger work "[Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.](arke:01KG8AJ6FNQ0XKWBY52P8DRPC9)". This segment details events and sentiments surrounding a military engagement, likely a battle, with specific references to troop movements, strategic objectives, and the emotional responses of soldiers and observers.
## Context
This poem is part of the collection "[Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.](arke:01KG8AJ6FNQ0XKWBY52P8DRPC9)", a significant work by Herman Melville that reflects on the American Civil War. The segment was extracted from the file "[battle_pieces_and_aspects_of_the_war.txt](arke:01KG89J1G8S4TRWXNCBRKCRKS8)" and is part of the broader "[Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW)" collection. It follows the segment titled "[VICISSITUDES OF THE WAR.](arke:01KG8AJKCS0NT3J9543CTQ39AH)" and precedes "[LATER AND LAST.](arke:01KG8AJM22JYY7HNG0Z6P2E8VJ)".
## Contents
The text describes the commencement of military action at "3 P.M.", with "light drifts of men" advancing in skirmish lines. It references General Lew Wallace's efforts to retake heights and notes disruptions in communication due to storms. The poem then shifts to a bulletin announcing "VICTORY!", detailing a successful surge by Union troops, described as "stormers," towards Donelson. The narrative captures the soldiers' eagerness for further combat and the strategic caution of General Grant. The segment concludes with the anticipation of securing the fort the following day.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:23.030Z
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- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- 3 P.M.
- end_line
- 947
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:35.910Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 904
- text
- 3 P.M.
The work begins.
Light drifts of men thrown forward, fade
In skirmish-line along the slope,
Where some dislodgments must be made
Ere the stormer with the strong-hold cope.
Lew Wallace, moving to retake
The heights late lost--
(Herewith a break.
Storms at the West derange the wires.
Doubtless, ere morning, we shall hear
The end; we look for news to cheer--
Let Hope fan all her fires.)_
Next day in large bold hand was seen
The closing bulletin:
VICTORY!
_Our troops have retrieved the day
By one grand surge along the line;
The spirit that urged them was divine.
The first works flooded, naught could stay
The stormers: on! still on!
Bayonets for Donelson!
Over the ground that morning lost
Rolled the blue billows, tempest-tossed,
Following a hat on the point of a sword.
Spite shell and round-shot, grape and canister,
Up they climbed without rail or banister--
Up the steep hill-sides long and broad,
Driving the rebel deep within his works.
’Tis nightfall; not an enemy lurks
In sight. The chafing men
Fret for more fight:
“To-night, to-night let us take the Den”
But night is treacherous, Grant is wary;
Of brave blood be a little chary.
Patience! the Fort is good as won;
To-morrow, and into Donelson._
- title
- 3 P.M.