pidly to the
ford, General Rosecrans inquired who commanded the brigade. "I do, sir,"
said Colonel Price. "Will you hold this ford?" "I will try, sir." "Will
you hold this ford?" "I will die right here." "Will you hold this ford?"
for the third time thundered the general. "Yes, sir," said the colonel.
"That will do"; and away galloped the general to where Palmer was
contending against long odds for the possession of the Round Forrest in
the center of the line. All along the line from Van Cleve's right to
Wood's left, the space gradually narrowed between the contending hosts.
The weak had gone to the rear; no room now for any but brave men, and no
time given for new dispositions; every man who had a stomach for fighting
was engaged on the firing line. From a right angle the Confederate left
had been pressed back by Van Cleve and Harker and the Pioneers to an angle
of forty-five degrees in less than that number of minutes. This advance
brought Van Cleve within view of Rousseau, who at once requested him to
form on his right. Harker, entering the woods on the left of Van Cleve,
passed to his right, and now closed up on his flank. The enemy had fallen
back stubbornly fighting, and made a stand on the left of Cheatham. Brave
old Van Cleve, his white hair streaming in the wind, the blood flowing
from a gaping wound in his foot, rode gallantly along the line to where
Harker was stiffly holding his position, with his right "in the air."
Bidding him to hold fast to every inch of ground, he rode to Swallow's
Battery, which was working with the rapidity of a steam fire-engine,
"Don't let them get your guns, Swallow!" he shouted, as he dashed by on
his way to the left, where Sam Beatty, heavy and impassive, was pounding
away with his minie rifles at a line of men who seemed always on the point
of advancing. The brigades of Stanley and Miller having fallen back, as
previously described, and the entire strength of Cheatham and three
brigades of Withers and Cleburne having fallen upon Rousseau, he had
fallen back into the open field, where he found Van Cleve. Loomis's and
Guenthers' batteries, double-shotted with canister, were posted on a
ridge, and as the Confederate line advanced, opened upon it with terrible
force. Men fell like ripened grain before a reaper, but the line moved
straight ahead. The field, swept by a storm of iron hail, was covered with
dead and wounded men. The deep bass of the artillery was mingled with the
higher n