And, turning around on his horse, he once more peered through the smoke to trace the final fortunes of the fight.
Almost every man in the direct attack of Mouton
's division was struck with a bullet.
had seen that, in the terrible fire, all the men in front would be shot down.
He had at once dispatched a body of his troops to turn the enemy's flank by getting around them.
This move, while it could not prevent the heavy slaughter, lessened it considerably by distracting the enemy's attention.
A peculiarity of this battle was a general agreement among the field officers that, on account of the heat, they would fight on horseback.
Here, on their horses, was not only the place of honor, but an invitation to Death, ever watchful in battle, to crown the brave.
The severe loss of the officers of the Eighteenth and Crescent
regiments, in this assault, was owing to the terrible fire in the ravine, between the woods and the hill, of the Federal
, of the Eighteenth, received three wounds, the last one killing him, while the sword of defiance still gleamed in his hand.
, that peerless Bayard
of our fighting Creoles, found death in a way wholly worthy of the name, ‘Sans
peur et sans reproche.’
The Federal battery on the hill was pouring grape and canister into our ranks.
It was a fearful struggle through that dark ravine, up that hill, up to those guns.
swept on, gladly following, with Mouton
always in the van. The guns were taken after a desperate struggle.
Here the enemy broke and fled.
, in passing a group of thirty-five soldiers, noticed that they had thrown down their arms in token of surrender.
Upon that group, the Confederates
, not seeing the sign of submission, were about to fire.
, true to his creed, now placed on trial, holding it unsullied, lifted up a hand of mercy to stop the slaughter.
Perhaps, out of that group, one did not see the hand of