their treacherous faces.
As the ponderous battle-line of the Sixth corps swings into level in their front, it sends a volley in greeting that thins those faces even as a wind of autumn rushing through an oak. General Ricketts is on the left, General Wright next, General Neill, of the Second division, whose iron brigade is made up of men who never flinched a desperate strait, holds the right of the line in support.
The fighting — who shall describe it?
Not a thousand men can be seen at once,e.
Here is the Sixth corps--what you can see of it — plunging on, firing continually, tumbling over branches and limbs, sinking waist deep in swamps, fighting with its might and bleeding at at every pore.
The troops of the First division, under Wright, are martyred for a time in a ravine swept by musketry in front, and by a cross-fire of artillery from right and left.
The few guns that we have posted to the left have funeral voices for our enemy on the ridge, perishing beneath their fire in s