wered, the line gives way.
The Rebels push on with a yell, and seize several of Schwartz's and
McAllister's guns. The gunners fight determinedly for a moment, but they
are few against many, and are shot or taken prisoners. A Mississippi
regiment attempts to capture Taylor's guns, but he sweeps it back with
grape and canister.

Up to this moment Wallace has not yielded an inch. Two of Oglesby's
regiments next to his brigade still hold their ground, but all who
stood beyond are in full retreat. The Rebels have picked off a score
of brave officers in Oglesby's command,--Colonels Logan, Lawler, and
Ransom are wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel White of the Thirty-first,
Lieutenant-Colonel Smith of the Forty-eighth, Lieutenant-Colonel Irvin
of the Twentieth, and Major Post of the Eighth are killed. The men of
Oglesby's brigade, although they have lost so many of their leaders, are
not panic-stricken. They are overpowered for the moment. Some of the
regiments are out of ammunition. They know that reinforcements are at
hand, and they fall back in order.

To understand Wallace's position at this stage of the battle, imagine
that you stand with your face towards the south fighting a powerful
antagonist, that a second equally powerful is coming up on your right
hand, and that a third is giving heavy blows upon your left shoulder,
almost in your back. Pillow, with one half of his brigades, is in front,
Johnson, with the other half of Pillow's command, is coming up on the
right, and Buckner, with all of his brigades, is moving down upon the
left.

Wallace sees that he must retreat. The Eleventh and
Thirty-first--Ransom's and Logan's regiments--are still fighting on
Wallace's right. There is great slaughter in their ranks, but they do
not flee. They change front and march a few rods to the rear, come into
line and fire a volley at the advancing Rebels. Forest's cavalry dashes
upon them and cuts off a few prisoners, but the line is only bruised,
not broken. Thus loading and firing, contesting all the ground, the
troops descend the hill, cross the clear running brook, and march up the
hill upon the other side.

But there are some frightened men, who fling away their guns and rush
wildly to the rear. An officer dashes down the road, crying: "We are cut
to pieces! The day is lost!"

"Shut up your head, you scoundrel!" shouts General Wallace.

It has had an effect upon his troops. They are nervous, and look round,
expecting to see the e