During the night, General Thomas’s troops had thrown up temporary breastworks of logs; and he had with the prescience which distinguishes genius in whatever art or science it engages, made every disposition for the impending struggle. General Negley, sent for and promised, did not come in time, for the enemy held him in check; but General Beatty’s brigade arrived and assisted in stemming the furious assault which the enemy were making on Baird’s left. But Beatty was not strong enough for the work, and was obliged to recede before an overwhelming force. Johnson’s reserve was sent to strengthen him, and with a helping hand from Vandeveer’s brigade of Brannan’s division, a portion of Stanley’s and Wood’s forces, drove the foe from Baird’s rear, where he had thrust himself, entirely away from his left. Thomas now directed the massing of artillery on Missionary Ridge, so as to sweep the ground to the left and rear of Baird’s position. Similar assaults to that above described were simultaneously made upon Johnson, Palmer and Reynolds, and renewed again and again with fresh troops, but were met with Roman coolness and deliberation. The rude breastworks of logs and rails, constructed the night before, saved the lives of thousands of Thomas’s troops. The men placed themselves behind these, their artillery in the rear firing over their heads. Their long line of defences appeared like an immense pyrotechnic serpent, instinct with hideous and withering life, which it belched continually, in volumes of smoke and flame, from its ghastly length. Again and again the rebel lines emerged from the cover of the woods, into the open corn-fields, charged with impetuous fury and terrific yells toward this formidable obstacle, but each of the fiery blasts from the Union batteries and battalions met them, and their ranks were swept away as if washed by a rushing flood. But as fast as the line fell off, another appeared, rushing sternly on over the dead and bleeding bodies of their fallen comrades.