I have intimated in the sketch of General Thomas that the famous charge of the reserve corps at Chickamauga was made at Steedman's suggestion. The idea of advancing at that time was a most preposterous one--it looked simply suicidal--and I would have been less surprised if the army had made arrangements to surrender than I was to see Steedman's corps charging and carrying the ridge against Longstreet's corps, which had a few hours before scattered a larger force than that of Steedman's at a single blow. The charge was not less of a surprise to the enemy, and the fact that it was unexpected and unaccountable under the circumstances had much to do with its success, since it puzzled and confused both Longstreet and Bragg so much as to convince them that Thomas had a large reserve force, and to cause a long and highly important delay and cessation of hostilities. During this famous charge of Steedman's occurred an incident which at once illustrates the boldness and extravagance of the man. The fighting was very heavy, the ridge which Longstreet held very high and difficult, and at one time Steedman saw a portion of his line wavering. Before he could ride forward to their position, this wavering brigade broke and began to retire, following a flag in the hands of a color-bearer, who had taken the lead in retreating. Meeting the retiring brigade, Steedman grasped the flag from the bearer and waved it above his head. All the line saw the action, but only a part of it heard his stentorian voice as he cried, "Run away, boys--run away like cowards; but the flag can't go with you." Not the words, but the advancing flag had the desired effect, and these men returned to the charge, and, led by the broad-shouldered, broad-breasted old soldier, they carried the hill before them. Before going into this battle, Steedman became strangely impressed with the idea that he was to lose his right leg, and, though no believer in presentiments, so forcibly and frequently did the thought occur to his mind, that he confided his feelings to some of his staff and friends. Among others to whom he mentioned it was Gordon Granger, who laughed at the idea, and jocosely asked Steedman what he could do for him in case he was wounded or killed. "Yes," said Steedman to his inquiry, "you can do me a great favor, and I beg that you will attend to it." "What is it?" asked Granger. "I swear to do it." "See that my name is spelled right in the newspapers. The printers always spell it Ste_a_d." And with this request Steedman rode into the battle. An hour or two after it had begun, his horse was shot under him, and another was brought for him. He mounted him, but the right stirrup-leather becoming twisted, he raised the stirrup with his foot, lifting his leg at the same time, in order to reach down and catch hold of the leather and take the twist out of it, when a musket-ball struck the strap, and, cutting it in two, passed between his leg and the saddle.