erate soldiers were crouching beneath the oak-trees, wide-awake and ready for battle. The ground was favorable for them. There were gullies and deep ravines, bowlders and ledges, and they had also breast works and riflepits. The Twelfth Corps, under Geary, was to move up the creek and find a place where the soldiers could ford it. Cruft's brigade was to cross near the railroad. The clouds hung low, and there was a heavy mist. The morning had not dawned when the troops began to move. We see them picking their way over the uneven ground, Cruft advancing to the creek. Muskets flash upon the opposite bank. A volley rings out upon the morning air, rolling up the mountain. Stevenson's men are on their feet, but before any reinforcements can reach the soldiers guarding the bridge the Union troops are in possession of it. The mist is so thick that the Confederates do not see Geary, who is making his way up the creek. Stevenson concentrates his troops to resist Cruft's, Wood's, and Grose's brigades, who have captured nearly all the forty men guarding the bridge. Geary finds a crossing-place, moves over, and the men begin to ascend the mountain, marching north-east, while Cruft, Grose, and Osterhaus are moving east. The men with axes are hard at work slashing down the oaks and rebuilding the bridge. It is past ten o'clock, however, before they complete it so that Osterhaus can cross. The battle is growing warm, with flashes from the Confederate breastworks, and wreaths of blue smoke curling above Geary's advancing lines. The Confederates in front of Cruft and Grose give way and flee up the mountain to the higher breastworks, while the Union troops send out a lusty cheer. Hooker's cannon come into position, and the thunder rolls along the valley, echoing from mountain to mountain. The day was dark. At noon the clouds were thick and heavy, enveloping the mountain. The Union troops in Chattanooga could hear the rattling of musketry high above them, and, mingled with the fusillade, the cheers of Hooker's troops as the Confederates gave way, fleeing up the mountain, throwing aside arms, cartridge-boxes, and blankets. Bragg had sent reinforcements, but they were too late to retrieve the ground lost by the giving way of Stevenson's troops, which were rallied behind the breastworks on the farm of Mr. Craven, whose whitewashed cottage, high up on the mountain-side, on bright days stood out clear and distinct amid the green fields and patches of woodland. The blood of Hooker's men was up, for they had driven the Confederates from a chosen position. It was exhilarating to climb the mountain side in pursuit, to enter the clouds, pressing the fugitives in front and on the flank, closing around and capturing eight hundred of them. At four o'clock Hooker was in possession of the whole western slope of the mountain. Carlin's brigade came up, and the line was extended around the northern end, connecting with Thomas's troops in Chattanooga. Night set in dark and rainy. The Union troops, weary with fighting and climbing, well satisfied with what they had accomplished, kindled great fires, cooked their coffee, wrapped themselves in their blankets, and made themselves as comfortable as they could through the night. Bragg saw that he could not hold Lookout Mountain, and so during the night the Confederates destroyed their provisions, descended the eastern slope, crossed Chattanooga Creek, and joined the main body of Bragg's army on Missionary Ridge. General Grant issued his orders for the next day's operations. At daylight General Sherman was to attack the right flank of the Confederates at the northern end of Missionary Ridge. Hooker at the same moment was to descend the eastern side of Lookout Mountain, cross Chattanooga Creek, push on towards Rossville, and strike the left flank of Bragg. Howard was to join Sherman, while the Army of the Cumberland, under Thomas, was to be ready to move at the right moment, wherever the troops might be needed. The drizzling rain ceases, the clouds roll away. The morning sun throws its beams upon Lookout Mountain, and the soldiers of the Army of the Cumberland, gazing upon it, behold the Stars and Stripes waving upon the topmost cliff-the spot where, a few days before, Jefferson Davis had looked down upon the beleaguered Army of the Cumberland, and prophesied its discomfiture and retreat to Kentucky. Loyal soldiers from Kentucky were waving the flag. Captain Wilson, Sergeants Wagner, Davis, and Woods, and Privates Hill and Bradley, of the Eighth Kentucky Regiment, had climbed over the rocks to find the Confederates gone. The soldiers in the valley beheld them, swung their hats, and the cheers of fifty thousand men rent the air. The Confederate troops at sunrise on the morning of November 25th were all on Missionary Ridge Hardee's corps holding the northern end, with Cleburne's division in front of Sherman. Walker's division, commanded by Gist, was near the railroad tunnel; Stevenson's and Cheatham's divisions, which had been on Lookout Mountain, and on the march through the night, were at sunrise coming into position to the left of Cleburne. General Bate's division was in the centre, in front of Bragg's headquarters. Paton Anderson's division held the ground between. Bate and Cheatham; Stewart's division extended from Bate to Rossville. In all, Bragg had forty-one thousand men, and one hundred and twelve cannon, holding a line between seven and eight miles in length. By the loss of Lookout Mountain, by sending Longstreet to East Tennessee, he suddenly found himself in a position where he must either retreat or accept battle. It is said that some of the Confederate generals had advised. him to give up Missionary Ridge and fall back to the stronghold of Buzzard's Roost and Tunnel Hill; for Hooker, descending Lookout, crossing Chattanooga Creek, and moving on Rossville, would turn his left flank and cut. him off from the railroad. General Bragg did not like to be advised as to what he should do, and determined to accept battle, confident that he could hold Missionary Ridge and defeat Grant. During the night the troops of Hardee were building new breastworks of trees and stones and earth, extending down the north-eastern slope of the ridge to Chickamauga Creek. |