And Grant, as at Donelson,
was far away.
The thunder and blaze of the battle increased swiftly and to a frightful
extent. The Southern generals, eager, alert and full of success,
pushed in all their troops. The surprised Northern army was giving away
at all points, except where Sherman stood. Hardee, continuing his rush,
broke the Northern line asunder, and his brigades, wrapping themselves
around Sherman, strove to destroy him.
Although he saw his lines crumbling away before him, Sherman never
flinched. The ravine in front of him and rough ground on one side
defended him to a certain extent. The men fired their rifles as fast as
they could load and reload, and the cannon on their flanks never ceased
to pour shot and shell into the ranks of their opponents. The gunners
were shot down, but new ones rose at once in their place. The fiercest
conflict yet seen on American soil was raging here. North would not
yield, South ever rushed anew to the attack, and a vast cloud of mingled
flame and smoke enclosed them both.
Dick had stood as if petrified, staring at the billows of flame, while
the thunder of great armies in battle stunned his ears. He realized
suddenly that he was alone. Colonel Kenton had said the night before
that he did not know what to do with him, but that he would find a way
in the morning. But he had been forgotten, and he knew it was natural
that he should be. His fate was but a trifle in the mighty event that
was passing.
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