vain. They were throwing their shells a mile
beyond the Confederate lines where they fell harmlessly.

The Confederate division commanders were gathering their hosts for the
last charge at sunset. There was yet an hour of daylight in which to end
the struggle with the complete annihilation of the Union army. Down
under the steep banks of the river's edge the demoralized remnants of
the shattered divisions were already stacking their arms to surrender.
They had made their last stand.

General Bragg turned to his aide:

"Tell Major Stewart of the twenty-first Alabama to advance and drive the
enemy into the river!"

The aide saluted.

"And carry that order along the whole line!"

The aide put spurs to his horse to execute the command, when a courier
dashed up from General Beauregard's headquarters.

"Direct me to General Bragg!"

The aide pointed to the General and rode back with Beauregard's courier.

"General Beauregard orders that you cease fighting and rest your men
to-night."

Bragg turned his rugged dark face on the messenger with a scowl.

"You have promulgated this order to the army?"

"I have, sir--"

"If you had not, I would not obey it--"

He paused and threw one hand high above his head.

"Our victory has been thrown to the winds!"

The sudden and inexplicable abandonment of this complete and
overwhelming success was one of the most remarkable events in the
history of modern warfare.

The men bivouacked on the field.

The blunder was fatal and irretrievable. Even while the order was being
given to cease firing the advance guard of Buell's army was already
approaching the other bank of the river. Twenty-five thousand fresh men
under cover of the darkness began to pour their long lines into position
to save Grant's shattered ranks.

As night fell another misfortune was on the way to obscure the star of
Beauregard. His soldiers, elated with their wonderful victory, broke
into disorderly plundering of the captured Federal camps. Except for a
few thousand sternly disciplined troops under Bragg's command the whole
Southern army suddenly degenerated into a mob of roving plunderers, mad
with folly. In the rich stores of the Federal army thousands of gallons
of wines and liquors were found. Hundreds of gray soldiers became
intoxicated. While scenes of the wildest revelry and disorder were being
enacted around the camp fires, Buell's army was silently crossing the
river under cover of the night a