The Federal reserve line
had been completely crushed, and the entire army, driven from the field
they had held that morning, were huddled in a confused mass of a half
mile around the Pittsburg Landing.
The next charge of the Confederates would hurl the whole army into the
river or they must surrender.
The gunboats had opened in vain. They were throwing their shells a mile
beyond the Confederate lines where they fell harmlessly.
The Confederate division commanders were gathering their hosts for the
last charge at sunset. There was yet an hour of daylight in which to end
the struggle with the complete annihilation of the Union army. Down
under the steep banks of the river's edge the demoralized remnants of
the shattered divisions were already stacking their arms to surrender.
They had made their last stand.
General Bragg turned to his aide:
"Tell Major Stewart of the twenty-first Alabama to advance and drive the
enemy into the river!"
The aide saluted.
"And carry that order along the whole line!"
The aide put spurs to his horse to execute the command, when a courier
dashed up from General Beauregard's headquarters.
"Direct me to General Bragg!"
The aide pointed to the General and rode back with Beauregard's courier.
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