river boats. All these guns, banked in tiers, extending the distance of a mile, now belched forth in streams of flame and iron hail, that mowed down ranks and regiments, and forest trees far in their rear. The incessant din and concussion of the bursting bombs seemed to rend the firmament and shake the solid earth.

As we moved forward into action we marched within a few paces of "Stonewall," who at that time was giving orders to a battery which was being actually destroyed by the concentrated fire of McClellan's artillery. He sat erect on his horse, in this hurricane of canister and grape; his face was aflame with passion, his eyes flashed, his under jaw protruded, and his voice rang out sharp and clear. Before he was entirely obscured from our view, the soldiers would turn, at brief intervals, to look back on him, as if for the last time. And indeed it was the last time for many of us.

Toward the close of his career, whenever "Stonewall" Jackson appeared to citizens who had known him only by reputation, he was always regarded by them with great interest. Many had clothed him in imagination with almost supernatural powers; others believed him

to be a chosen leader, especially favored of heaven on account of his religious character and pure life.

But his soldiers knew that his success lay in his eternal vigilance, his untiring energy, his personal supervision, and perfect knowledge of the topography of the field of his operations, and the exercise of those qualities that bring success to other generals. Yet he possessed qualities that were peculiar to him as natural gifts; he had a resolute mind and never halted between two opinions; and he had the intuitions and instincts of the born soldier, quickly to take advantage of any mistakes his adversary might make. Above all, he had a realizing sense of the inestimable value of time, in its connection with the operations of war. He was always on time. It was a tradition with his soldiers that when, at Richmond, Lee heard the sound of Jackson's guns away off on McClellan's right, he took out his watch and calmly remarked: "Jackson is on time."

General Lee knew all that this remark implied-the arduous toil and sleepless energyyet he expressed no surprise; he expected nothing less of Jackson.

Shortly after sunrise on the morning after the pattle of Fredericksburg, as I was walking along the ridge above Hamilton's Crossing and about thirty yards from one of the batteries, I passed within a few feet of General Jackson, who had taken up his position alone on this vantageground for the purpose of reconnoitering. But he was not doing very much of it just at that time, for he was seated on the ground, leaning against a hickory sapling, and fast asleep. He held his bridle-rein in one hand and his fieldglass in the other, and did not awaken as I walked along the path within touching distance of him, but seemed to be sleeping as calmly as I had seen him sleep years before in the church at Lexington.

which they had had no leisure to do the day before while the battle was raging.

Several days after this time I met General Jackson riding across the battle-field, about two miles below Fredericksburg. He was riding alone and very slowly, with his head hanging down, as if in profound thought. He halted for a few minutes and spoke in a kindly, friendly way, but made no allusion to the battle, the sad, melancholy evidences of which were all around us. A few weeks before his death I visited his headquarters for the last time. He at that time occupied for his office an outbuilding of an old manor-house at Moss Neck, on the Rappahannock, which had been used in happier times as a sporting lodge. On the walls of this room.

However, his slumbers were destined to be of short duration, for a battery of heavy guns on the Stafford Heights soon opened with a volley, directed against the battery near the spot where Jackson was quietly sleeping. The fire of these guns continued only for a short time, but while it lasted the din was terrific, not to speak of the destruction wrought by the hurtling missiles, for the very first gun that opened this morning salute sent a shell right into the muzzle of the cannon nearest to the general, broke it from its trunnions, killed two horses, and hurled the picce back into the barbette, which the gunners were trenching out at the time, an operation

still hung pictures of race horses, game cocks, and the trophies of the chase. One was impressed, on entering here, with the ludicrous incongruity of these pictures to the grim surroundings and to the taste of the grave, religious soldier who occupied these quarters. After a pleasant conversation of half an hour, I took my leave, as it proved, forever, of General Jackson, who had now won a world-wide fame, and was still the same modest, diffident man I had met for the first time at Lexington, eleven years before.

When Jackson died, many of his intimate friends believed that his death portended the downfall of his cause, and never had much hope

ROOM IN WHICH GENERAL JACKSON DIED.

been here, things would have been different!" of its success from that fatal day; but his soldiers grieved his loss as no others could grieve for him. Afterward, on every battle-field where the tide of war made against them, they would exclaim in their extremity: "Oh, if Jackson had

The Duke of Wellington once expressed the opinion that the presence of Napoleon on a field of battle was worth all of 20,000 men. It would be difficult to compute how many men the presence of Jackson on a battle-field was worth. There was but one "Stonewall" Jackson.

His presence in any battle where the victory wavered in the balance, his soldiers thought, was worth all the difference between victory and defeat.

"Brave men lived before Agamemnon," and there were brave and able officers living after Jack

son, but his constant success had wrought such faith in his old soldiers, and they were so dazzled by the popular applause and enthusiasm which his presence everywhere inspired, that they truly believed there was none to come after him that could fill his place.

were on the east side of the Tennessee, and intrenched.

General William F. Smith, with his engineers, commenced the construction of pontoon bridges

MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN M. CORSE, U. S. A.

across the Tennessee and the Chickamauga. The steamer Dunbar arrived in the forenoon and ferried the balance of Ewing's division across the river. At one o'clock on the afternoon of the 24th the command moved out in three columns en echelon, the left, General Morgan L. Smith, the column of direction. The day was like those that immediately preceded it, wet and misty, with low hanging clouds that shut out the view of the enemy on Lookout. Sherman pushed ahead and occupied a range of hills. Skirmishers were thrown out and crept up the ridges, with a strong support following. 3.30 in the afternoon he was in position.

At

A brigade from each division was thrown forward to the top of the hill, where they encountered the veterans of Cleburne's celebrated command. Smith's Texans opened fire on the Federals, and Giles A. Smith was wounded, and his brigade passed into the command of Colonel Tupper, of the 116th Illinois. Sherman's position was over the tunnel, where the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad passes through Missionary Ridge. The rivers and the ridge here form three sides of a square.

The valley between was, as a rule, level and cleared. In the Federal front and about 1200 yards north and about 600 yards west of the tunnel was a high detached ridge, commanding

This ridge

every point within cannon range. was the disputed point. Between the two armies was a deep valley, commanded by the guns of both. To reach either, this valley must be crossed, and that, too, in the face of the concentrated fire of the entire line and the artillery. Orders were given to Ewing to fortify the ground he held, which was done that afternoon and night. One brigade was held in reserve on the hills; one of Morgan L. Smith's closed the gap to Chickamauga Creek; two of John E. Smith's brigades were thrown back to the base of the ridge and held in reserve; Ewing's right was extended down the ridge to the plain, thus crossing the ridge in a general line facing southwest; General O. O. Howard, commanding the 11th Corps, sent three of his regiments to Ewing, and they were placed in prolongation of that officer's line to his right, thus connecting Sherman with the army at Chattanooga. Night came, but the work went on.

Sherman was ordered to attack the enemy at dawn. He was told that Thomas would attack in force early in the day. The enemy occupied the range of hills with his infantry and artillery, and was strongly intrenched. General Corse, with his brigade, was ordered to attack from the right-centre, and to use such portion of his command as he could operate along the narrow ridge. Lightburn sent to Corse the 30th Ohio Infantry. Morgan L. Smith was to move along the east base of the mountain with two brigades of John E. Smith's division. The forces selected for the attack were the brigades of Corse and Loomis, of Ewing's division, together with the 30th Ohio and the two regiments of Buschback's brigade, of the 11th Corps, and only such portions of this force as the formation of the ground would permit.

Bragg concentrated a mighty army to meet these veterans from Vicksburg and the Potomac. Cleburne's dashing division, with the brigades of Liddell, now commanded by Govan, and the brigades of J. A. Smith, Polk, and Lowery, with the batteries of Calvert, Dodge, Semple, and Swett, were in position, well protected by fieldworks and slashing. Lookout Mountain sent the brigades of Generals J. C. Brown and Alfred Cummings; Breckenridge sent Lewis's brigade; Walker sent Maney; and Buckner sent Reynolds's brigade. Smith faced Corse; Lowery was posted south of the tunnel, and Govan on the high spur overlooking the whole field. During the night Smith was changed from the advanced position and given another, to the rear of the