All the valor and courage of the South so far had been in vain.

Harry, standing near his commander, and awaiting any order that might be given him, saw new masses of the enemy advancing along every road and through the fields.

The Union colors, held aloft in front of the regiments, snapped defiantly in the wind.

And those western riflemen, from their cover, never ceased to pour showers of bullets upon the Southern lines.

They had already cut a swath of dead, and many wounded were dragging themselves to the rear.
It seemed to Harry, looking over the field, that the battle was lost.
The Northern troops were displaying more tenacity than the Southern officers had expected.