Then a great shout arose. A fresh
brigade had come up to their relief, and aided by these new men they made
good the ground upon which they stood.
Another shout arose, telling that Buell was coming, and, two hours after
the combat had opened, he arrived with more troops. But night was now at
hand, and the sun set over a draw like that at Antietam. Forty thousand
men had fought a battle only about three hours long, and eight thousand
of them lay dead or wounded upon the sanguinary field. One half the
Union army never reached the field in time to fight.
As both sides drew off in the darkness, Dick shouted in triumph, thinking
they had won a victory. A bullet fired by some retiring Southern
skirmisher glanced along his head. There was a sudden flash of fire
before him and then darkness. His body fell on a little slope and rolled
among some bushes.
The close hot night came down upon the field, and the battle, the most
sanguinary ever fought on Kentucky soil, had closed. Like so many other
terrible struggles of the Civil War, it had been doubtful, or almost,
so far as the fighting was concerned.
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