It was agreed that
Hazen should make the attempt.
The brigade was withdrawn from the line which it had faithfully held all
day, and some disposition made to fill the gap. Hazen formed his
regiments in close masses, faced them to the right and rear, covered his
front with a trusty battalion as skirmishers, waved an adieu to the
comrades left behind, and plunged into the unknown forest in the
direction of Thomas's firing. On and on went the brigade and came nearer
and nearer to the ridge which Thomas held. Suddenly, the skirmishers
strike obliquely an opposing line. They brush it away in an instant, but
the warning is not lost. Keep more to the rear: no fighting now, though
you should whip three to one. The fate of the four divisions rests upon
that. With quick and steady tread the regiments move on. They clear the
wood at last, climb the end of a ridge through a field of standing
corn, and burst into an open field at the summit amid the wild cheers of
Thomas's exhausted men, while Thomas himself, beloved of all the army,
rides down to take Hazen by the hand. And not a moment too soon.
Almost at the very instant Thomas's skirmishers along the front of the
ridge broke out into a rattling fire, and were seen falling back. The
enemy was about to make his final effort, and it was to be against the
flank where now lay Hazen's brigade. Quickly deploying his regiments,
Hazen placed them in four lines, closed one upon another, and the men
lay flat upon their faces.
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