MY reader cannot even imagine, in his peaceful home, the dread interest which broods over preparation for a great and decisive battle. Thoughts of the loved and absent throng the minds of brave men; hasty letters are written, and messages left, should they fall in mortal combat. Bibles are read, prayers offered, and hope rekindled in many heroic hearts. Ambulances and “stretchers” are made ready for the wounded, and surgeons arrange their instruments, lint, and bandages, while orders are passed from the commanding general down to the lieutenant. This work of preparation went forward at Chattanooga during the hours of November 23d. Writes Colonel Bowman, the friend of General Sherman, a scholar, a gentleman, and a gallant soldier: “In the plan of the battle, Hooker was to hold the enemy at Lookout Mountain, and carry it, if possible. General Sherman was to vigorously assault Missionary Ridge. As that was their vital point, the enemy would mass to defend it. This would weaken the centre, upon which Thomas would rush, to penetrate it. Simple and plausible as this plan seemed, and successful as it proved, to most men who looked up at the frowning and precipitous heights which towered even into the clouds, above Chattanooga, with rebel works studded with artillery commanding every rugged approach, the idea of carrying them seemed little short of madness. The rebels felt so secure as to risk sending Longstreet’s entire corps to Knoxville, where it closely besieged the army of Burnside. ‘By half-past three P. M. of the 24th,’ says Grant, ‘the whole of the northern extremity of Missionary Ridge, to near the tunnel, was in Sherman’s possession. During the night he fortified the position thus secured, making it equal, if not superior, in strength to that held by the enemy.’ “Before dawn of the 25th of November General Sherman was in the saddle, and had made the entire tour of his position in the dim light. It was seen that a deep valley lay between him and the precipitous sides of the next hill in the series, which was only partially cleared, and of which the crest was narrow and wooded. The farther point of the hill was held by the enemy, with a strong breastwork of logs and fresh earth, crowded with men, and carrying two guns. On a still higher hill beyond the tunnel he appeared in great force, and had a fair plunging fire on the intermediate hill in dispute. The gorge between these two latter hills, through which the railroad-tunnel passes, could not be seen from Sherman’s position, but formed the natural _place d’armes_, where the enemy covered his masses ‘to resist our turning his right flank, and thus endangering his communications with the Chickamauga depot.’ General Corse was to have the advance; ‘and the sun had hardly risen,’ says Sherman, ‘before his bugle sounded the “Forward.”’