The batteries were pushed forward and raked the
shattered Southern lines.
Pillow, who had led the attack instead of Floyd, seeing his fortunes
pass so suddenly from the zenith to the nadir, gathered his retreating
army upon a hill in front of their intrenchments, but he was not
permitted to rest there. A fresh Northern brigade, a reserve, had
just arrived upon the field. Joining it to the forces of Lew Wallace,
afterwards famous as a novelist, Grant hurled the entire division upon
Pillow's weakened and discouraged army.
Winchester's regiment joined in the attack. Dick felt himself swept
along as if by a torrent. His courage and the courage of those around
him was all the greater now, because hope, sanguine hope, had suddenly
shot up from the very depths of despair. Their ranks had been thinned
terribly, but they forgot it for the time and rushed upon their enemy.
The battle had rolled back and forth for hours. Noon had come and
passed. The troops of Pillow had been fighting without ceasing for
six hours, and they could not withstand the new attack made with such
tremendous spirit and energy. They fought with desperation, but they
were compelled at last to yield the field and retreat within their
works. Their right and left suffered the same fate. The whole
Confederate attack was repulsed. Bull Run was indeed reversed. There
the South snatched victory from defeat and here the North came back
with a like triumph.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240