at least until we
could join them at our leisure.

There were some things which, if we had more carefully considered them,
might, perhaps, have abated somewhat this pleasant conviction of
security. The enemy had lately grown wonderfully bold and
venturesome--skirmishing with picket outposts, bullying reconnoitring
parties, and picking quarrels upon unconscionably slight provocation
almost daily. He had even challenged our gunboats, disputing the passage
up the river in an artillery duello at the Bluffs, not far above the
Landing, whose hoarse, sullen rumbling had reached us where we were
resting on that Thursday afternoon, at the distance of thirty miles back
toward Nashville. But, then, on how few fields had Southern chivalry
ever yet ventured to attack; how seldom, but when fairly cornered, had
its champions deemed discretion _not_ the better part of valor! What
other possibility was there which was not more likely to become an
actuality than that the enemy would here dare to assume the aggressive?
Who that had the least regard for the dramatic proprieties, could ever
assign to him any other part in the tragedy than one whose featliest
display of skill and dexterity should be exhibited in executing the
movements of guard and parry, and whose noblest performance should be to
stand at bay, resolutely contending upon a hopeless field to meet a
Spartan death? So we cast aside all serious thought of immediate danger
at Pittsburg Landing, the sanguine temperaments pronouncing these
demonstrations of a foe who had shown our army only his heels all the
way from Bowling Green and Fort Donelson, really diverting from their
very audacity.

At sunset, the Sixth held dress parade--the first since our march from
Columbia; but I, on duty that day as one of the 'reserve guard,' was
merely a looker-on. I was never prouder of the old regiment; it went
through with the manual of arms so well--and then there were so many
spectators present from other regiments. Orders were given to prepare
for a thorough inspection of arms and equipments at ten o'clock on the
next morning, then parade was dismissed, and so the day ended. The wind
died away, and the night deepened, cool, tranquil, starlit, on a camp of
weary soldiery, where contentment and good will ruled for the hour over
all.

Beautifully clear and calm the Sabbath morning dawned, April 6th, 1862;
rather chilly, indeed, for it was yet in the budding time of spring. But
the sky was