But however violent the charge, and however tremendous the fire of cannon
and rifles, the Rock of Chickamauga merely sank deeper in the soil,
and nothing could drive him from his base. The Union dead heaped up,
regiments were shattered by the Southern fire, but Thomas, calm, and,
inspiring courage as on the day before, passed here and there,
strengthening the weak points, and sending many great guns to the crest
of Missionary Ridge, whence they swept the front of the enemy with a
devastating fire.
The hail of death from the heights enabled the infantry and cavalry below
to gather breath and strength for the new attacks of the enemy. They
knew, too, that their cannon were now giving them more help than before,
and defiant cheers swept along the line in answer to the mighty battle
cry of the South. The Rock of Chickamauga had not moved a foot.
Dick caught gleams of the sun through the smoky canopy, but he did not
know how far the day had advanced. He seemed to have been in battle many
hours, but in such moments one had little knowledge of time.
Pages:
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411