But another general was driven back,
losing cannon, although he retook them in a second and desperate charge.
Still no news from McClernand and his fifteen thousand! There was
silence where his guns ought to have been thundering, and Grant burned
with silent anger.
It was noon, and a half-hour past. The Union plans, made with so much
care and judgment, and the movements begun with so much skill and daring
seemed to be going awry. Yet Grant with the tenacity, rather than
lightning intuition, that made him a great general, held on. His
lieutenants clung to their ground and prepared anew for attack.
Dick hurried back to his own regiment, which was still lying in the
thickets, bearing an order for its advance in full strength. Colonel
Winchester, who was standing erect, walking among his men and encouraging
them, received it with joy. Word was speedily passed to all that the
time to win or lose had come. Above the cannon and rifles the music of
the calling trumpets sounded. The fire of both sides suddenly doubled
and tripled in volume.
"Now, boys," shouted Colonel Winchester, waving his sword, "up the hill
and beat 'em!"
Uttering a deep-throated roar the Winchesters rushed forward, firing
as they charged.
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