g was no exception. The Confederates spent
the night in diligent preparation. Supplies of ammunition were
brought up and distributed, the existing defences were repaired,
abattis cut and laid, and fresh earthworks thrown up. Jackson, as
usual on the eve of battle, was still working while others rested.
Until near midnight he sat up writing and dispatching orders; then,
throwing himself, booted and spurred, on his camp bed, he slept for
two or three hours, when he again arose, lighted his candle, and
resumed his writing. Before four o'clock he sent to his medical
director to inquire as to the condition of General Gregg. Dr. McGuire
reported that his case was hopeless, and Jackson requested that he
would go over and see that he had everything he wished. Somewhat
against his will, for there were many wounded who required attention,
the medical officer rode off, but scarcely had he entered the
farmhouse where Gregg was lying, than he heard the tramp of horses,
and Jackson himself dismounted on the threshold. The brigadier, it
appears, had lately fallen under the ban of his displeasure; but from
the moment his condition was reported, Jackson forgot everything but
the splendid services he had rendered on so many hard-fought fields;
and in his anxiety that every memory should be effaced which might
embitter his last moments, he had followed Dr. McGuire to his bedside.

The interview was brief, and the dying soldier was the happier for
it; but the scene in that lonely Virginian homestead, where, in the
dark hours of the chill December morning, the life of a strong man,
of a gallant comrade, of an accomplished gentleman, and of an
unselfish patriot--for Gregg was all these--was slowly ebbing, made a
deeper impression on those who witnessed it than the accumulated
horrors of the battle-field. Sadly and silently the general and his
staff officer rode back through the forest, where the troops were
already stirring round the smouldering camp-fires. Their thoughts
were sombre. The Confederacy, with a relatively slender population,
could ill spare such men as Gregg. And yet Jackson, though yielding
to the depression of the moment, and deploring the awful sacrifices
which the defence of her liberties imposed upon the South, was in no
melting mood. Dr. McGuire, when they reached headquarters, put a
question as to the best means of coping with the overwhelming numbers
of the enemy. "Kill them, sir! kill every man!" was the reply of the