ement, while it encourages the
enemy. The one accepts it as an indication of defeat; the other as an
assurance of victory.

McCook had been surprised and shattered in the morning. This unexpected
success had inspired the rebels and dispirited us. They fought like
devils, and the victory--if victory there was to either army--belonged
to them.

When the sun went down, and the firing ceased, the Union army,
despondent, but not despairing, weary and hungry, but still hopeful, lay
on its arms, ready to renew the conflict on the morrow.

JANUARY, 1863.

1. At dawn we are all in line, expecting every moment the
re-commencement of the fearful struggle. Occasionally a battery engages
a battery opposite, and the skirmishers keep up a continual roar of
small arms; but until nearly night there is no heavy fighting. Both
armies want rest; both have suffered terribly. Here and there little
parties are engaged burying the dead, which lie thick around us. Now the
mangled remains of a poor boy of the Third is being deposited in a
shallow grave. A whole charge of canister seems to have gone through
him. Generals Rosecrans and Thomas are riding over the field, now
halting to speak words of encouragement to the troops, then going on to
inspect portions of the line. I have been supplied with a new horse, but
one far inferior to the dead stallion. A little before sun-down all hell
seems to break loose again, and for about an hour the thunder of the
artillery and volleys of musketry are deafening; but it is simply the
evening salutation of the combatants. The darkness deepens; the weather
is raw and disagreeable. Fifty thousand hungry men are stretched beside
their guns again on the field. Fortunately I have a piece of raw pork
and a few crackers in my pocket. No food ever tasted sweeter. The night
is gloomy enough; but our spirits are rising. We all glory in the
obstinacy with which Rosecrans has clung to his position. I draw closer
to the camp-fire, and, pushing the brands together, take out my little
Bible, and as I open it my eyes fall on the xci Psalm:

"I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God; in Him
will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler,
and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers,
and under His wings shall be thy trust. His truth shall be thy shield
and buckler. Thou shalt not be, afraid for the terror by night, nor for
the arrow that fl