But, to his intense surprise, the enemy saved him the trouble. At first, when they had a slight preponderance of numbers, they stood fast and let Grant invest them. Now that he had the preponderance they tried to cut their way out by the southern road, upstream, where McClernand's division stood guard. As Grant came ashore from his interview with Foote an aide met him with the news that McClernand had been badly beaten and that the enemy was breaking out. Grant set spurs to his horse and galloped the four muddy miles to his left, where that admirable soldier, C. F. Smith, was as cool and wary as ever, harassing the enemy's new rear by threatening an assault, but keeping his division safe for whatever future use Grant wanted. Wallace had also done the right thing, pressing the enemy on his own front and sending a brigade to relieve the pressure on McClernand. These two generals were in conversation during a lull in the battle when Grant rode up, calmly returned their salutes, attentively listened to their reports, and then, instead of trying the Halleckian expedient of digging in farther back before the enemy could make a second rush, quietly said: "Gentlemen, the position on the right must be retaken." Grant knew that Floyd was no soldier and that Pillow was a stumbling-block. He read the enemy's mind like an open book and made up his own at once by the flash of intuition which told him that their men were mostly as much demoralized by finding their first attempt at escape more than half a failure as even McClernand's were by being driven back. He decided to use Smith's fresh division for an assault in rear, while McClernand's, stiffened by Wallace's, should re-form and hold fast. Before leaving the excited officers and men, who were talking in groups without thinking of their exhausted ammunition, he called out cheerily "Fill your cartridge boxes quick, and get into line. The enemy is trying to escape and he must not be permitted to do so." McClernand's division, excellent men, but not yet disciplined soldiers, responded at once to the touch of a master hand; and as Grant rode off to Smith's he had the satisfaction of seeing the defenseless groups melt, change, and harden into well-armed lines.