"To the trees again!" cries the leader, "we may as well die here as in Ohio!"
One of the Hiram students, a lad of eighteen, is shot through the thigh, and a confederate soldier passing by says to him,—
"Here, boy, give me your musket." "Not the gun, but its contents," he replies, and in another instant the rebel lies dead at his feet. His companion takes up a weapon to kill the brave young student, but the latter seizes the dead man's rifle and, with unerring aim, fells him to the ground.
When his comrades bear him away to the camp, and a surgeon tells him that the wounded limb must be amputated, his only words are: "Oh, what will mother do?"
The story of the noble lad—Charles Carlton of Franklin, Ohio,—is told in the Ohio Senate, two weeks later, and a statute is immediately framed to make provision for the widows and mothers of our soldiers.
A hundred men like young Carlton present a steady resistance to the enemy's fire, but Garfield watching them from a rocky height, realizes their perilous situation and exclaims,—
"They will surely be driven back, they will lose the hill unless supported."
Instantly, five hundred of the Ohio Fortieth and Forty-second, under Major Pardee and General Cranor, are ordered forward.
"Hurrah for Captain Williams and his Hiram boys!" they shout, as they ford the stream, holding their cartridge-boxes high above their heads. But the fire of four thousand muskets fall upon them and though,—
"Bravely they fight and well,
Stormed at with shot and shell,"