On his left flank Jackson’s whole corps was massed, at Hamilton’s Crossing; at his right was the stone wall and Mayree’s Hill.  To meet Hood and Pickett he would have had to advance between a quarter and half mile through a plain, where his army could be enfiladed by the guns of Longstreet and Jackson, and in front by the batteries of Hood and Pickett.  It seems from reports since come to light that the authorities at Washington apprehended more danger in Burnsides crossing the river than in the battle that was to follow.  Lincoln in giving him orders as to his movements instructed his Secretary of War, Stanton, to write Burnsides to be very careful in the crossing, to guard his flanks well, and not allow Lee to fall upon one part that had crossed and crush it before the other part could come to the rescue; nor allow that wing of the army yet remaining on the Northern side to be attacked and destroyed while the other had crossed to the Southern side.  It is said Stanton wrote the order couched in the best of English, and phrased in elegant terms the instructions above, telling him to guard his flanks, etc., then read the order to Lincoln for his approval.  Taking up the pen, the President endorsed it, and wrote underneath, in his own hand:  “In crossing the river don’t allow yourself to be caught in the fix of a cow, hurried by dogs, in jumping a fence, get hung in the middle, so that she can’t either use her horns in front, nor her heels behind.”

Many incidents of courage and pathos could be written of this, as well as many other battles, but one that I think the crowning act of courage and sympathy for an enemy in distress is due was that of a Georgian behind the wall.  In one of the first charges made during the day a Federal had fallen, and to protect himself as much as possible from the bullets of his enemies, he had by sheer force of will pulled his body along until he had neared the wall.  Then he failed through pure exhaustion.  From loss of blood and the exposure of the sun’s rays, he called loudly for water.  “Oh, somebody bring me a drink of water!—­water! water!!” was the piteous appeals heard by those behind the stone wall.  To go to his rescue was to court certain death, as the housetops to the left were lined with sharpshooters, ready to fire upon anyone showing his head above the wall.  But one brave soldier from Georgia dared all, and during the lull in the firing leaped the walls, rushed to the wounded soldier, and raising his head in his arms, gave him a drink of water, then made his way back and over the wall amid a hail of bullets knocking the dirt up all around him.