otes of the minie rifles, while the brief pauses could be
distinguished the quickly-spoken orders of the commanding officers, and
the groans of the wounded. It was the full orchestra of battle. But there
is a limit of human endurance. The Confederate brigades, now melted to
three-fourths their original numbers, wavered and fell back; again and
again they reformed in the woods and advanced to the charge, only to meet
with a bloody repulse. Four deliberate and sustained attempts were made
to carry the position, and each failed. While these events were following
each other in rapid succession, and some of them occurring simultaneously,
the Left Wing had not only held its position, but had furnished three
brigades to repel the advance of Bragg's left upon the rear of the army.

While Colonel Hazen was gallantly defending the left of the line from nine
o'clock in the morning until two in the afternoon, the fight raged no less
furiously on his immediate right. Here a line composed of two brigades of
Palmer's division and one of Wood's, filled out by the remains of
Sheridan's divisions, who, after they had replenished their ammunition,
formed behind the railroad embankment at right angles with Hazen's
brigade, which alone retained its position upon the original line. Farther
to the right was Rousseau, with Van Cleve and Harker on his right. I leave
to more graphic pens to describe the grand pyrotechnics of the battle
field at this supreme moment when victory hung evenly balanced. Past the
crowd of fugitives from the Right Wing the undaunted soldiers of the Left
and Center had swept "with the light of battle in their faces," and now in
strong array they stood like a rock-bound coast beating back the tide
which threatened to engulf the rear. Along this line rode Rosecrans with
face illuminated by the light of exalted courage; Thomas, calm, inflexible
as a mighty judge, from whose gaze skulkers shrank abashed; Crittenden,
cheerful and full of hope, complimenting his men as he rode along the
lines; Rousseau, whose fiery impetuosity no disaster could quell; Palmer,
with a stock of cool courage and presence of mind equal to any emergency;
Wood, suffering from a wound in his heel, stayed in the saddle, but had
lost the jocularity which usually characterized him. "Good-bye, General,
'we will all meet at the hatter's' as one coon said to another when the
dogs were after them," he said to Crittenden early in the action, but at
ten o'clock