The line was taken, the Federals in full retreat for their last and strongest line of works, which ran around the edge of the little village. Night had come, and the Confederates, flushed with victory, lay on the ground they had so bravely won--to complete, in the morning, as they supposed, the destruction of Rosecrans's army. When morning came, the Confederates once more rushed to the conflict. Again did Major Middleton lead his regiment. The color-bearer went down, but the flag was seized by Randolph Hamilton, and held aloft. "Follow the colors!" he shouted, as he sprang forward. The Federals shrank from the advancing line of steel, and fled in dismay. As Randolph mounted the breastwork, a young Federal lieutenant, the last to leave the works, levelled his revolver on him, but as he did so a look of surprise came over his face, and he turned his weapon and shot a soldier who had sprung on the works by Randolph's side. Randolph did not return the shot. The young lieutenant was Leon Laselle, the brother of Lola. Everywhere along the front of Green's division the wild cheers of victory were ringing. Not only had they swept the Federal breastworks, but forty cannon had been captured. Oh, it was good! It was glorious! But it was no time to stop and rejoice. The Yankees must be completely crushed--Rosecrans's whole army captured; and into the village they followed the fleeing but not demoralized Federals. Into the houses, and behind every garden fence and hedge, the retreating Federals gathered. Every house became a flaming fort, and into the advancing ranks of the Confederates was poured a storm of balls, while the loud-mouthed cannon swept away with an iron hail the front of the advancing foe. The Confederates wavered, halted; then there sprang forward a line of blue-coated soldiers, and as a great wave bears on its crest everything before it, so did this line of blue bear back the Confederates. In vain did Edward Middleton struggle before it. He was as helpless as a log of wood borne onward by the surging tide. Randolph Hamilton once more seized the standard of the regiment. "Let us die with it floating," he cried. As he cried, the hand of a Federal lieutenant reached out to grasp the flag, and then both went down, and Randolph Hamilton and Leon Laselle lay side by side, the blood stained flag between them. On rolled the wave of blue, catching and flinging back hundreds of the fleeing Confederates. The armies of Van Dorn and Price that had had no thought but victory, that had fought so bravely and won so much, now fled from the field in wild confusion, leaving behind them over a thousand of their dead, hundreds of their wounded, and nearly three thousand prisoners. They had fought as only brave men can fight--and lost. Throughout the North the name of Rosecrans, before but little known, was on every tongue.[10] [Footnote 10: A few weeks after this battle Rosecrans was appointed Commander of the Army of the Cumberland.]