s,
whistle, shriek, crash, hurricane of projectiles; the big shot from
batteries in front and from Braxton's artillery on our right ripping up
the ground and bounding away to the rear and the left; horses and riders
disappearing in the smoke of exploding shells; the constant shouting of
our officers indistinctly heard, and now and then the peculiar
well-known "rebel yell"; and finally the command, HALT! LIE DOWN!
Molineux and Birge were too far to the front, and the line must be
rectified. Ricketts, as we pressed forward, had thrown Keifer's Brigade
(2d of Third Division, Sixth Corps), seven regiments, into the
broadening interval directly in front of the mouth of the gorge; but it
was not sufficient.

It was now Early's opportunity; but he was hours too late, just as
Sheridan had been. He had seen our Sixth Corps and Nineteenth emerge
and deploy, had beheld our rapid and somewhat disorderly approach, had
noted the widening spaces between our battalions and divisions, had
observed the havoc wrought by his artillery and musketry, ten thousand
of our soldiers seeming to sink under it; had had time to mass his
forces; and now it was "up to him" to hurl them against our centre. It
was the strategy inaugurated by Epaminondas at Leuctra and perfected by
Napoleon in many a hard battle, breaking the enemy's centre by an
irresistible charge, dividing and conquering. Rodes had been killed at a
battery in front of our brigade. His veterans and Gordon's, six thousand
strong[3] constituted the charging column. Neither Sheridan nor any
other Federal historian appears to have done justice to this charge.
Pickett's at Gettysburg was not more brilliant.

With yells distinctly heard above the roar they advanced. The batteries
on each side redoubled their discharges. From our irregular line of
infantry extending more than a mile blazed incessant sheets and spurts
of flame, the smoke at times hiding the combatants. Gordon was heading
toward the now nearly empty ravine. My horse had just been shot under
me. I lost two in that fight. Dismounted I walked from the right of my
battalion to the left, cautioning my men against wasting their
ammunition, bidding them take sure aim, pick out the rebel officers, and
not fire too high. They were shooting from a recumbent position, or
resting on one knee; lying flat on their backs to reload. As I reached
the left, I glanced to the right and saw several of them starting to
their feet, and a little fur