were cut out of it by a faithful commissary, the contents of which, after a hard night’s work, he would succeed in transferring to the soldiers’ haversacks.

Walker’s and Starkweather’s brigades had already passed to the front, where the former bivouacked in close column in reserve in rear of McCook’s left, and the latter, posted on the left of Sheridan, next morning relieved Van Cleve’s division, now commanded by Col. Sam Beatty, which resumed its position in the left wing. Generals Van Cleve and Wood, each suffering from wounds in the foot, were sent in ambulances back to Nashville.

Headquarters were located in a double log house, which then stood on the east side of the turnpike about opposite the lower ford of Stones River. In a room on the left hand, General Thomas sat before a fire, asleep; the officers of his staff, stretched upon the floor, with their feet to the fire, were also asleep. Ready at a moment’s warning to obey any order that might be given him, the old soldier was snatching a brief respite from care, in the friendly arms of Morpheus. To a question of General Rosecrans, earlier in the evening, he had made the characteristic reply: “The question of retiring from the battle-field is one of such delicacy that I am quite willing to leave it to the judgment of the commanding general.” On the right of the passageway a far different scene was presented. General Crittenden paced the floor with quick, impatient stride. “Communication is cut off,” said one. “We must fall back,” said another, and the words were deliberately uttered by a brave man. “My corps is not whipped,” shouted Crittenden, “and we must not fall back.” At this moment General Rosecrans entered the room and caught the expression as it fell from the lips of his heroic commander. “Gentlemen, we fight or die right here,” said the chief as he passed them and took a seat by the fire.

The sun of the New Year rose bright and fair; an occasional gun gave token of the proximity of the two contending armies. During the night Rosecrans retired his left to a more advantageous position, the extreme left resting on Stones River above the lower ford and extending to Stokes’ Battery, posted on a knoll on Rousseau’s right. Beatty’s division was posted across Stones River on the margin of the woodland that covered a gentle slope from the river to an open field in their front. Across the field, the Lebanon road, running nearly at right angles with the front of Beatty’s line, was nearly in sight. Off to their right and front an elevation still held by Hanson’s Brigade of Breckinridge’s division, was crowned by Cobb’s Battery of Artillery. The Confederate line, formed by Polk and Breckinridge on the right and Hardee on the left, extended from the point on Stones River where Chalmer’s Brigade had bivouacked since the 28th, in a direction almost at right angles with its original line.

The body of the brave General Sill was found where it had fallen, and sent to Murfreesboro, where it was buried. At dawn on the 1st of January the right flank of General Polk was advanced to occupy the ground vacated by the left flank of the Union Army. Neither commander deemed it advisable to attack, but each was watchful of every movement of the other. The picket lines of either side were thrust forward within sight of the main lines of the opposing force, on the alert to notify their commanders of any movement in their front. As two gladiators of equal strength, who, having fought until nature is exhausted, stretch their herculean forms upon the earth, each confident that his antagonist is as unable as himself to renew the contest, rise when refreshed and glare upon each other, watchful for advantage, so were these contending armies, drawn up in firm array, weaker in numerical strength, but more compact and infinitely stronger in indomitable will, on the morning of the New Year, each