He will never let go."
Yet there was little but gloom in the Union camp. The short winter day,
somber and heavy with clouds, was drawing to a close. The field upon
which the assault had taken place was within the sweep of the Southern
guns. Some of the Northern wounded had crawled away or had been carried
to their own camp, but others and the numerous dead still lay upon the
ground.
The cold increased. The Southern winter is subject to violent changes.
The clouds which had floated up without ceasing were massing heavily.
Now the young troops regretted bitterly the blankets that they had
dropped on the way or left at Fort Henry. Detachments were sent back to
regain as many as possible, but long before they could return a sharp
wind with an edge of ice sprang up, the clouds opened and great flakes
poured down, driven into the eyes of the soldiers by the wind.
The situation was enough to cause the stoutest heart to weaken, but the
unflinching Grant held on. The Confederate army within the works was
sheltered at least in part, but his own, outside, and with the desolate
forest rimming it around, lay exposed fully to the storm. Dick, at
intervals, saw the short, thickset figure of the commander passing among
the men, and giving them orders or encouragement. Once he saw his
face clearly. The lips were pressed tightly together, and the whole
countenance expressed the grimmest determination. Dick was confirmed
anew in his belief that the chief would never turn back.
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