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[688] “Lexington,” lay, one at the mouth of the principal ravine and the other a short distance below.

The Union army had been pressed back within half a mile of the Tennessee. A desperate and final struggle was now to be made. About four o'clock, after half an hour's comparative quiet, the deep-mouthed guns again opened; the roll of musketry was heard in continuous volleys, the wild tumult, the weird shriek, the crashing timber, all bespoke the terrible conflict. The battle-ground has become fearfully contracted; the enemy's shell fall into the river and explode amid the transports! Another advance is ordered. The shattered brigades of Beauregard enter the ravine and close up on the contracted lines, protected by the siege guns. “Three different times,” reports one of the commanders, “did we go into that ‘valley of death,’ and as often were we forced back.” Another reports: “A murderous fire was poured into us from masked batteries of grape and canister and also from rifle-pits.” General Bragg ordered General Chalmers to drive us into the river at all hazards. In vain did this brave Carolinian, who sacrificed his own life and a large portion of his command, attempt to do so. The concentrated fire of the Union army, aided by the formidable natural barriers, prevented the execution of Beauregard and Bragg's humane orders! Gradually the firing ceased. The Sabbath closed upon a scene which had no parallel on the Western Continent. The sun went down in a red halo, as if the very heavens blushed and prepared to weep at the enormity of man's violence. Night fell upon and spread its funereal pall over a field of blood where death held unrestrained carnival! Soon after dark the rain descended in torrents, and all through the dreary hours of that dismal night it rained unceasingly. The groans of the dying, and the solemn thunder of the gunboats came swelling at intervals high above the peltings of the pitiless storm.

General Beauregard redeemed his promise, and slept in the camp of the Union army that night. That officer, we have reason to believe, occupied our tent that Sabbath night. He says: “I established my headquarters at the church at Shiloh, in the enemy's encampment,” etc. His dispatches were written on a desk in one of the Union tents. Our tent was the only one thus provided. These facts are mentioned as not of much historical importance, but simply as incidents of the day. It was known through all of Sunday that General Buell was hurrying on with all possible dispatch. That officer, with two of his corps commanders, Nelson and Crittenden, had reached General Grant's headquarters on the hill at the river by

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