“4. Polk will press his forces to the front of Lee and Gordon’s Mills, and if met by too much resistance to cross, will bear to the right and cross at Dalton’s Ford or at Tedford’s, as may be necessary, and join the attack wherever the enemy may be. “5. Hill will cover our left flank from an advance of the enemy from the cove, and by pressing the cavalry on his front, ascertain if the enemy is reinforcing at Lee and Gordon’s Mills, in which event he will attack them in flank. “6. Wheeler’s cavalry will hold the gaps in Pigeon Mountain, and cover our rear and left and bring up stragglers. “7. All teams, etc., not with the troops should go toward Ringgold and Dalton beyond Taylor’s Ridge. All cooking should be done at the trains. Rations when cooked will be forwarded to the troops. “8. The above movements will be executed with the utmost promptness, vigour, and persistence.” “That’s an excellent order,” said D.H. Hill. “The only fault to be found with it is that it’s excellent-too-late. Some days ago was the proper date. Then we could have dealt with them piecemeal; now they’re fifty thousand men behind breastworks.” The aide wagged his head. “Even so, we can beat them, General.” D.H. Hill looked at him a little sardonically. “Of course, of course, we can beat them! But have you noticed how many men we lose in beating them? And have you any idea how we are to continue to get men? It takes time to grow oaks and men. What the South needs is some Cadmus to break the teeth out of skulls, sow them, and raise overnight a crop of armed men! There are plenty of skulls, God knows! We are seeing in our day a curious phenomenon. Armies are growing younger. We are galloping toward the cradle. The V. M.I. Cadets will be out presently, and then the nine- and ten-year-olds. Of course the women might come on afterwards, though, to tell the truth,” said Hill, “they’ve been in the field from the first.” “Here’s General Forrest.” Forrest rode up. “General Hill, ain’t it? Good morning, sir. I am going to fight my men dismounted. This is going to be an infantry battle.” “I have heard, General,” said Hill, “that you have never lost a fight. How do you manage it?” “I git there first with the most men.” “You don’t hold then with throwing in troops piecemeal?” “No,” said Forrest, with a kind of violence. “You kin play the banjo all right with one finger after another, but in war I clutch with the whole hand!” He rode on, a strange figure, an uneducated countryman, behind him no military training or influence, no West Point; a man of violences and magnanimities, a big, smoky personality, here dark, here clearly, broadly lighted. “He was born a soldier as men are born poets.” “Forrest!” said General Joseph E. Johnston long afterwards. “Had Forrest had the advantage of a military education and training, he would have been the great central figure of the war!”