with the river. We took this path, the guide leading the way. From him I learned that the plateau occupied by the battery had been used for a charcoal-kiln, and the path we were following, made by the burners in hauling wood, came upon the gorge opposite the battery. Moving briskly, we reached the hither side of the gorge, a few yards from the battery. Several regiments were posted near, and riflemen were in the undergrowth on the slope above. Our approach, masked by timber, was unsuspected. The battery was firing rapidly, enabled from its elevation to fire over the advancing lines. The head of my column was deploying, under cover, for attack, when the fire to our rear appeared to recede, and a loud Federal cheer was heard, proving Jackson to be hard pressed. It was rather an anxious moment, demanding instant action. Leaving a staff-officer to direct my rear regiment, the Seventh Louisiana, Colonel Harry Hays, to form in the wood as a reserve, and halt, I ordered the attack. With a rush and shout the gorge was passed, and we were in the battery. Surprise had aided us, but the enemy's infantry rallied in a moment, and drove us out. We returned, to be driven out the second time. The riflemen above worried us no little. Two companies of the Ninth Louisiana were sent up the gorge to gain ground above them and dislodge them, which was accomplished. The fighting in and around the battery was hand-to-hand. Many fell from bayonetwounds. Even the artillerymen used their rammers in a way not laid down in the "Manual," and died at their guns. As Conan said to the devil, ""Twas claw for claw." I called for Hays, but he, the promptest of men, and his splendid regiment, could not be found. Something unexpected had occurred, but there was little time for speculation. With a desperate rally, in which, I believe, the drummer-boys shared, we carried the battery for the third time, and held it. The riflemen above had been driven off, and we began to feel a little comfortable, when the rear line of the enemy, attracted by our attack, appeared. They had countermarched, and, with their left near the river, came into full view of our situation. Wheeling to their right, with colors advanced, like a solid wall they marched straight upon us. There seemed nothing left but to set our backs to the mountain and die hard. At the instant, crashing through the underwood,

He secured a reën

came Ewell, outriding staff and escort. forcement, and was welcomed with cheers. The line before us halted, and threw forward skirmishers. A moment later, a shell came shrieking along it. Loud Confederate shouts reached our delighted ears; and Jackson, freed from his toils, came like a whirlwind, the enemy in rapid retreat. We turned the captured guns on them as they passed, Ewell himself serving as a gunner. Though rapid, the retreat never became a rout. Fortune had refused her smiles, but Shields and his brave command preserved their organization, and were formidable to the last.

Whether the difference between his force and Fremont's was of men or commanders, I leave others to decide. Jackson came up with intense light in his eyes, grasped my hand, and said the brigade should have the captured battery. I thought the men would go mad with cheering, especially the Irishmen. A huge fellow, with one eye closed and half his whiskers burned by the explosion of powder, was riding "cock-horse," on a gun, and, catching my attention, yelled out, "Didn't we tell ye to bet on your boys?" Their success against brother Patlanders seemed doubly welcome. Strange people, these Irish! Fighting every one's battles, and cheerfully taking the hot end of the poker, they are only found wanting when engaged in what they believe to be their national cause. Excepting their defense of Limerick under the brilliant Sarsfield, I recall no domestic struggle in which they have shown their worth.

While Jackson pursued Shields-without much effect, as his cavalry, left in front of Fremont, could not get over till late-we attended to the wounded and performed the last offices to the dead-our own and the Federal. I have never seen so many dead and wounded in the same limited space. A large farmhouse on the plain, opposite the mouth of the gorge, was converted into a hospital. Ere long, my lost Seventh Regimentsadly cut up-rejoined. This regiment was in rear of the column when we left Jackson, to gain the path in the wood, and before it filed out of the road, his thin line was so pressed that Jackson ordered Hays to stop the enemy's rush. This was done, for the Seventh would have stopped a herd of elephants, but at a fearful cost. Colonel Harry Hays was severely wounded among many others. Many hours passed in discharge of our sad duties to

wounded and dead, during which Fremont appeared on the opposite bank of the river, and opened his guns, but observing, doubtless, our occupation, ceased his fire, and after a time withdrew. It may be added here that Jackson had caused such alarm to Washington as to start Milroy, Fremont, Banks, and Shields, toward that capital, and the great Valley was cleared of the enemy. We passed the night high up the mountain, where we moved to reach our commissary-wagons. A cold rain was falling before we found them. Every one was tired and famished, and I rather took it out of the train-master for pushing so far up, although I had lunched comfortably from the haversack of a dead Federal. It is not pleasant to think of now, but war is a little hardening. On the 12th of June the army moved down to the river, above Port Republic, where the Valley was wide, with many trees-no enemy to worry or make us afraid. Here closed Jackson's wonderful Valley campaign in 1862. My brigade marched from its camp near Conrad's Store to join Jackson at New Market on the 21st of May. In twenty days it marched two hundred miles, fought in five actions, of which three were severe, and several skirmishes, and, though it had suffered heavy loss in officers and men, was yet strong, hard as nails, and "fit" like a game-cock.

I have felt it a duty to set forth the achievements of the "Louisiana Brigade," than which no man ever led braver into action, in their proper light, because such reputation as I gained in the war is to be ascribed to its excellence, not to my own merit.

On the second day in this camp, General Winder came to me and said he had asked leave to go to Richmond, been refused, and had resigned. He commanded Jackson's old brigade, and was aggrieved by some unjust interference. Holding Winder in high esteem, I hoped to save him to the army, and went to Jackson, to whose magnanimity I appealed. To arouse

this, I dwelt on the rich harvest of glory he had reaped in his brilliant campaign, and, observing him closely, caught a glimpse of the man's inner nature. It was but a glimpse. The curtain closed, and he was absorbed in prayer. Yet, in that moment, I saw an ambition, boundless as Cromwell's, and as merciless. No reply was made to my effort for Winder, and I rose to take my leave. Jackson said he would ride with me, and we passed,

silently, along the way to my camp, where he left me. That night, I received a few lines from Winder, in which it was stated Jackson had called on him, and his resignation was withdrawn.

A few days later we marched to Cold Harbor, where we were absorbed in the larger army operating against McClellan, and I saw but little of Jackson. I have written that he was ambitious; and his ambition was vast, all-absorbing. As the unhappy wretch from whose shoulders sprang the foul serpent, he loathed it, perhaps feared it, but he could not escape it-it was himself; nor rend it-it was his own flesh. He fought it with prayer, constant and earnest-Apollyon and Christian in ceaseless combat. What limit to set to his ability I know not, for he was ever superior to occasion. Under ordinary circumstances it was difficult to estimate him because of his peculiarities-peculiarities that would have made a lesser man absurd, but that served to enhance his martial fame, as those of Samuel Johnson his literary eminence.

He once observed, in reply to an allusion to his severe marching, that it was better to lose one man in marching than five in fighting; and, acting on this, he invariably surprised the enemyMilroy at McDowell, Banks, Fremont, and Shields, in the Valley, McClellan's right at Cold Harbor, Pope at second Manassas.

Fortunate in his death, he fell at the summit of glory, before the sun of the Confederacy had set; ere defeat, and suffering, and selfishness, could turn their fangs upon him. As one man, the South wept for him; foreign nations shared the grief; even Federals praised him. With Wolfe, and Nelson, and Havelock, he took his place in the hearts of English-speaking peoples.

In the early years of this century, a great battle was fought on the plains of the Danube. A determined charge on the Austrian centre gained the victory for France. The courage and example of a private soldier who there fell, contributed much to the success of the charge. Ever after, at the parades of his battalion, the name of Latour d'Auvergne was first called, when the oldest sergeant stepped to the front and answered, "Died on the field of honor." In Valhalla, beyond the grave, where spirits of warriors assemble, when, on the roll of heroes, the name of Jackson is reached, it will be for the majestic shade of Lee to pronounce the highest eulogy known to our race-died on the field of duty. RICHARD TAYLOR.

IV.

THE DEATH-STRUGGLE OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.

THE origin and growth of parties in countries possessing popular governments and controlled by public opinion follow the laws of development attending tropical forests. A seed, too small to excite attention, but containing within itself a healthy, vigorous germ, filled with all the vast possibilities inherent in its vitalism, falls unheard on the soil. At once a struggle for existence ensues. Every inch of surrounding earth is already occupied by rival plants, each fiercely striving to appropriate nutritive elements. By long-continued, stubborn effort, seeking healthy food and rejecting all else, our plant fixes its roots to push upward to the sun and secure the objects of its being the completion of a wholesome, God-given existence. No sooner have its branches reached the upper air, overtopping rivals, and attaining a recognized place in creation, than the world of parasites, previously inattentive, fastens upon it. Healthy, vigorous growth is arrested. The sap, elaborated by roots deeply plunged into the bosom of earth, is diverted from its natural purpose, and made to cherish the existence of devouring excrescences. So with the Republican party. Chilled by want of sympathy, denounced as violators of the Constitution, derided as visionary enthusiasts, persecuted as disturbers of the public peace, the founders of this party were faithful to their mission-the defense of human liberty. Amid contempt, misrepresentation, threatenings, like the Earl of Oxford, they kept alive the bird in their bosom, and were steadfast to the end. Unkind was the soil in which they deposited their little seed. Long and cruel were the years before germination really began. But in time the tender rootlets reached the rich, warm sympathies of human hearts, and the plant grew apace. Verdant leaf and spreading branch followed,