The Rebel commanders concentrate all their forces near the river, to charge through the ravine, scale the other side, rush down the road and capture the steamboats. They plant their batteries along the bank, bringing up all their guns, to cut their way by shot and shell. If they can but gain a foothold on the other side, the day is theirs. The Union army will be annihilated, Tennessee redeemed. Buell will be captured or pushed back to the Ohio River. The failing fortunes of the Confederacy will revive. Recognition by foreign nations will be secured. How momentous the hour! Beauregard's troops were badly cut to pieces, and very much disorganized. The Second Texas, which had advanced through the peach-orchard, was all gone, and was not reorganized during the fight. Colonel Moore, commanding a brigade, says: "So unexpected was the shock, that the whole line gave way from right to left in utter confusion. The regiments became so scattered and mixed that all efforts to reform them became fruitless."[14] [Footnote 14: Colonel Moore's Report.] Chalmers's brigade was on the extreme right. What was left of Jackson's came next. Breckenridge, with his shattered brigades, was behind Chalmers. Trabue, commanding a brigade of Kentuckians, was comparatively fresh. Withers's, Cheatham's, and Ruggles's divisions were at the head of the ravine. Gibson, who had been almost annihilated, was there. Stewart, Anderson, Stephens, and Pond were on the ground from which Wallace had been driven. As the brigades filed past Beauregard, he said to them, "Forward, boys, and drive them into the Tennessee."[15] [Footnote 15: Ruggles's Report.] The Rebel cannon open. A sulphurous cloud borders the bank. The wild uproar begins again. Opposite, another cloud rolls upward. There are weird shriekings across the chasm, fierce howlings from things unseen. Great oaks are torn asunder, broken, shattered, splintered. Cannon are overturned by invisible bolts. There are explosions in the earth and in the air. Men, horses, wagons, are lifted up, thrown down, torn to pieces, dashed against the trees. Commands are cut short; for while the words are on the lips the tongue ceases to articulate, the muscles relax, and the heart stops its beating,--all the springs of life broken in an instant. Wilder, deeper, louder the uproar. Great shells from the gunboats fly up the ravine. The gunners aim at the cloud along the southern bank. They rake the Rebel lines, while the artillery massed in front cuts them through and through. Bragg orders an advance. The brigades enter the ravine, sheltered in front by the tall trees above and the tangled undergrowth beneath. They push towards the northern slope. "Grape and canister now!" "Give them double charges!" "Lower your guns!" "Quick! Fire!"