Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

‘ [268] had been driven into utter disorder to the immediate vicinity of Pittsburg Landing, under the heavy guns of the iron-clad gunboats. Like an Alpine avalanche, our troops moved forward, despite the determined resistance of the enemy, and at 6 P. M. we were in possession of all his encampments between Owl and Lick Creeks but one, nearly all of his field artillery, thirty flags, colors and standards, over three thousand prisoners, including a division commander (General Prentiss), several brigade commanders, thousands of small arms, an immense supply of subsistance, forage and munitions of war—all the substantial fruits of a complete victory.’ The last great charge was finally made. Says his biographer: ‘General Johnston had passed through the ordeal seemingly unhurt. His noble horse was shot in four places. His clothes were pierced by missiles. His boot soles were cut and torn by a minnie ball. At this moment Governor Harris (of Tennessee, now United States Senator) rode up elated with his own success, and the vindication of his Tennesseeans. In the meantime the retreating Federal soldiers kept up a fierce discharge of firearms, and delivered volley after volley as they retreated on their last line, and to the shelter of the gunboats. By the chance of war, a minnie ball from one of these did the work. As General Johnston sat there on horseback, knowing that he had crushed in the arch which had so long resisted the pressure of his forces, and waiting until they could collect sufficiently to give the final stroke, he received a mortal wound. It came flying in a moment of victory and triumph from a foe. It smote him at the very instant he felt the full conviction that the day was won.’

Thus fell Albert Sidney Johnston. The records of war show no more knightly warrior. He combined science, skill, daring coolness, resolution, experience and all other characteristics and elements which go to make up a great leader. It was said of him by his great civic chieftain, when he saw him on the field of Monterey: ‘In combat he had the most inspiring presence I ever saw.’ Well may his great leader and captain, who led the Confederates as military chieftain, have said: ‘When Albert Sidney Johnston fell at Shiloh the right arm of the Confederacy perished.’ I will not close this brief eulogy of the life and character of Albert Sidney Johnston, which it is temerity to attempt to embody in an address of ordinary length, without putting on record the eloquent and touching tribute paid to his memory by my friend, General Wharton J. Green, of North Carolina—himself a distinguished officer in the Confederate service and Congressman-elect from the Fayetteville District of North Carolina: