Thus matters stood about 3 p.m.  The day was bright and clear, and the amphitheatre of Chattanooga sat in beauty at our feet.  I had watched for the attack of General Thomas “early in the day.”  Column after column of the enemy was streaming toward me; gun after gun poured its concentric shot on us, from every hill and spur that gave a view of any part of the ground held by us.  An occasional shot from Fort Wood and Orchard Knob, and some musketry-fire and artillery over about Lookout Mountain, was all that I could detect on our side; but about 3 p.m.  I noticed the white line of musketry-fire in front of Orchard Knoll extending farther and farther right and left and on.  We could only hear a faint echo of sound, but enough was seen to satisfy me that General Thomas was at last moving on the centre.  I knew that our attack had drawn vast masses of the enemy to our flank, and felt sure of the result.  Some guns which had been firing on us all day were silent, or were turned in a different direction.

The advancing line of musketry-fire from Orchard Knoll disappeared to us behind a spar of the hill, and could no longer be seen; and it was not until night closed in that I knew that the troops in Chattanooga had swept across Missionary Ridge and broken the enemy’s centre.  Of course, the victory was won, and pursuit was the next step.

I ordered General Morgan L. Smith to feel to the tunnel, and it was found vacant, save by the dead and wounded of our own and the enemy commingled.  The reserve of General Jeff.  C. Davis was ordered to march at once by the pontoon-bridge across Chickamauga Creek, at its mouth, and push forward for the depot.

General Howard had reported to me in the early part of the day, with the remainder of his army corps (the Eleventh), and had been posted to connect my left with Chickamauga Creek.  He was ordered to repair an old broken bridge about two miles up the Chickamauga, and to follow General Davis at 4 a.m., and the Fifteenth Army Corps was ordered to follow at daylight.  But General Howard found that to repair the bridge was more of a task than was at first supposed, and we were all compelled to cross the Chickamauga on the new pontoon-bridge at its mouth.  By about 11 a.m.  General Jeff.  C. Davis’s division reached the depot, just in time to see it in flames.  He found the enemy occupying two hills, partially intrenched, just beyond the depot.  These he soon drove away.  The depot presented a scene of desolation that war alone exhibits —­corn-meal and corn in huge burning piles, broken wagons, abandoned caissons, two thirty-two-pounder rifled-guns with carriages burned, pieces of pontoons, balks and chesses, etc., destined doubtless for the famous invasion of Kentucky, and all manner of things, burning and broken.  Still, the enemy kindly left us a good supply of forage for our horses, and meal, beans, etc., for our men.