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[179] Commercial, and is now reprinted as an interesting contemporary historical document, shedding light on the progress of the battle, and proving conclusively that the Army of Tennessee won a great victory on that bloody field. What the result might have been, had the Confederates pressed their advantage, no one can say.—Editor Picayune.

Morning broke cold and dim. A rank fog obscured the camp fires and transformed the flitting figures around them into gnomes. The rattling of wagons, the vehement rumbling of caissons, and the low, monotonous word of command were heard in all directions. A heavy white frost—the first, I believe, of the month—shone icily on the grass, as the glow of the muffled flames touched it redly.

The line of battle was fully established by seven o'clock. The divisions were not in the same order as they went into the fight on Saturday. Some had rallied, and in going back had deflected to the right or left, leaving gaps which other divisions must close. I do not believe that any mortal man can give the order of each brigade, as it was left by the ebb of Saturday's battle. But during the night the divisions had regathered their estray, but unshattered regiments, and stood ready once more to test the powers of the foe.

Thomas still held the left with Palmer's and Johnson's Divisions attached to his corps and thrown in his center. Brannan was retired slightly, his regiments arrayed in echelon. Van Cleve was placed on the west side of the first road, in the rear of the line, and held in reserve. Wood, Davis and Sheridan followed next, the latter holding the extreme right. General Lytle still held the position at Gordon's Mills, although now dangerously isolated from the right.

Thus it will be seen that three-fourths of the army was concentrated on the left, with the view of holding that vital point. The right was much too weak, but it was a question between defeat and destruction. We could afford to have our right shattered, but the left center must have all the troops they required, or the army was ruined-totally, irreparably lost.

Before the sun rose I rode slowly through the trains towards General Rosecrans' headquarters. They had been established the previous day at a loghouse, known as the residence of the widow Glenn. It was surrounded by corn fields, and commanding a view slight enough of itself, but more extensive than could be found in other places. The battle field was almost one vast forest. It was interspersed with fields and clearings, but it was seldom that the troops

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