Opdycke's Brigade, of the same division, which had been acting as rear-guard from Spring Hill, passed through cur line, and was ordered by Gen. Cox to take up position in reserve behind Carter's Hill. The two regiments of Reilly's Brigade that were left back in the skirmish line at Duck River arrived, and formed the second line behind the main works. The batteries of the Fourth Corps were placed in our main line. They were ordered to report to Gen. Cox, to take the places of the Twenty-third Corps artillery that had been posted on the north side of the river, as it was the first on the ground, and it was the intention, at that hour, to have all the artillery pass over as it arrived. By the middle of the afternoon our trains were nearly all across the river, and it was intended the troops should follow after dark, and accompanying them during the night toward Nashville. But it seemed that Gen. Schofield's plans were to be somewhat interfered with, to the extent that the continuation of our march was some hours later.

For when Gen. Hood's sleepy army awoke at Spring Hill, and he found how skillfully Gen. Schofield had marched his command past him during the night, and an examination by daylight showed him how easily he could have cut us in two at any time during the night or headed us off entirely the previous afternoon, had he known our exact situation, he was so chagrined that he cursed everybody, high and low; censured Cheatham and Cleburne, and the entire forces that were present, for not taking possession of the road; and made his whole army understand that it must make up for that blunder at once, and that no time was to be lost in overtaking and destroying our army wherever found. So he pushed on in pursuit, their cavalry occasionally attacking our trains and burning a wagon or two, until they came up with our rear-guard about noon at Winstead Hills. These two splendid fighting Generals, Cheatham and Cleburne, felt keenly the morning's reprimand, which they considered undeserved, and as they rode together at the head of their commands they discussed it with bitter resentment, and determined at the first opportunity to make the fight of their lives, and disprove the unjust charges of their commander. Stewart's Corps moved on to the right, toward Lewisburg pike, turning Opdycke's flank, when he fell slowly back to the town.

Gen. Cheatham with his corps moved by the Columbia pike, and formed in line north of Winstead Hills. From our position the officers and horses could be plainly seen on this range of hills, a little more than two miles away, as though studying our position.

From this elevation the beautiful panorama, embracing the rolling intervening country and the town of Franklin nestling in the Valley of the Harpeth, was plainly in the vision of Hood's officers, showing also the disposition of our troops and the earthworks encircling the town. Bate's Division marched over to Carter's Creek pike and formed behind the Bostwick house. Stewart's Corps moved over to the McGavock house, where the first skirmish firing was heard in the grove; it was by Reilly's men, who had gone there for logs to put on the earthworks.

Firing was now commenced over on the right where Bate was forming, and the guns stationed on the pike poured in volley after volley with great rapidity. Gen. Cox rode over to Henderson's Brigade, which was on higher ground, and from a parapet, with his fieldglass, watched the advancing lines until they ran over Wagner's men.

He then mounted his horse and pushed for the center, steadying the line and directing the men to withhold their fire until the advanced lines were inside of the works. The suspense was now growing, for we knew there was to be a battle. The men were heated from the exertion of strengthening the works, but they laid down their shovels and picks, and took up their guns with a firm grip, and stood there with bated breath and blazing eyes, frowning over the works at the advancing foe and awaiting the order to commence firing; for they were fairly burning to avenge the deaths of their brave comrades that were left on the bloody battlefields of northern Georgia, and this was their first good chance for wiping out many an old score; and, oh! what a real comfort it was to know that we who, during the hot Summer campaign, had stood the crash of so many fierce assaults against their solid fortifications, were now on the right side of the works, and in such a splendid position. with a gentle slope away from us and not even a mullein-stalk to obstruct our fire for a good third of a mile.

Before the break in the advanced lines, Gen. Cox's Engineer Officer, the writer, was standing on the parapet of the 100th Ohio, the first one on the left of the Columbia pike, urging the men to strengthen the works, and talking with Gen. Wagner at the time. The General was reclining on his elbow, his feet hanging over the works, with a staff or crutch in his hand; he had fallen with his horse and was lame. They remarked that the musketry firing was becoming more rapid, also that the section of artillery was doing some lively work. By and by a staff officer rode fast from one of the brigades and reported to Wagner, excitedly, "The enemy are forming in heavy columns; we can see them distinctly in the open timber and all along our front."

Wagner said firmly: "Stand there and fight them."

Then turning to the Engineer Officer, he said, "And that stubbed, curly-headed Dutchman will fight them, too." Meaning one of his brigade commanders.

"But, General," the Engineer said, "the orders are not to stand, except against cavalry and skirmishers, but to fall back behind the main line if a general engagement is threatened."

In a short time another officer of Stanley's staff rode in from the right in great haste and told him the rebels were advancing in heavy force. He received the same order. The officer added: "But Hood's entire army is coming." Then Wagner struck the ground with his stick. "Never mind; fight them." But even after this, they had time to come back in good order if they had been so directed.

Soon we heard the rebel yell and heavy firing. Marshall's men with the two guns had fixed prolonge and fired as they fell back on the pike to the advanced rifle pits, leaving their dead, but bringing in their wounded. The horses then brought the guns in on an easy trot. As they turned in around the short apron earthwork covering the gap across the pike, Alec Clinton, one of the gunners, jumped off the limber, his face black with powder smoke, and said, with a grim smile,

"Old hell is let loose, and coming out there."

The firing now was continuous, and under the rising smoke we could see a commotion in our advanced brigades; officers were hurrying from point to point to hold the men to their work. A few horsemen were in sight, some mounting and others dismounting, but only an occasional dropping back. Soon we noticed the right of Stewart's command wrapping around Conrad's left, and then our men rose up and the break commenced. The right of Cheatham's corps was sweeping over the little rise of ground on which the low earthworks were built, in what appeared a solid human wave. And such a racket! Their shouting seemed to show such confidence as men would have who had been led to believe that the line they were assaulting was a weak one. The firing had slackened and the smoke cleared, so that we could plainly see the splendid advance.

It was a grand sight! Such as would make a lifelong impression on the mind of any man who could see such a resistless, well-conducted charge. For the moment we were spellbound with admiration, although they were our hated foes; and we knew that in a few brief moments, as soon as they reached firing distance, all of that orderly grandeur would be changed to bleeding, writhing confusion, and that thousands of those valorous men of the South, with their chivalric officers, would pour out their life's blood on the fair fields in front of us. As forerunners well in advance could be seen a line of wild rabbits, bounding along for a few leaps, and then they would stop and look back and listen, but scamper off again, as though convinced that this was the most impenetrable line of beaters-in that had ever given them chase; and quails by the thousands in covies here and there would rise and settle, and rise again to the warm sunlight that called them back; but, no, they were frightened by the unusual turmoil, and back they came and this repeated until finally they rose high in the air and whirred off to the gray skylight of the north.

The day had been bright and warm, reminding us of the Northern Indian Summer; the afternoon sun, like a ball of fire, was settling in all its southern splendor in a molten sea of bronze, over the distant hills; and in the hazy, golden light, and with their yellowish-brown uniforms, those in the front ranks seemed to be magnified in size; one could almost imagine them to be phantoms sweeping along in the air. On they came, and in the center their lines seemed to be many deep and unbroken, their red-and-white tattered flags, with the emblem of St. Andrew's cross, as numerous as though every company bore them, flaring brilliantly in the sun's rays, with conspicuous mounted groups of general and staff officers in their midst, and a battery or two in splendid line charging along between the divisions. Scattered along in front of them were our men bent almost to the ground, with their heads turned to see if the enemy were gaining on them. It was every man for himself and the devil take the last man over the works; but here and there brave fellows would hesitate as if they would like to face and fight them.

On the right of Walthall's and the left of Loring's Divisions there were occasional breaks made by our infantry and the terrific volleys from the batteries on the opposite bank of the river; also, from Marshall's and Canby's Battery M, 4th U. S. Art., who poured canister into the enemy that were swarming through the railroad cut; but officers on horseback and afoot were at every gap, trying to close them up, so that, on the left, Stewart's living sea, with raging surf, in wave following wave, broke and fell, and plunged onward over the sloping beach in our front.

Those who have stood on the Cliff road at Newport and watched the masses of brown seaweed from the gulf stream carried by the white-capped waves over the bright green water of the beach will have a fair idea of the appearance of those lines that charged forward and receded on that fateful day. Still the great seething mass came rolling on to our center. Although the smoke was spreading, we could see them plainly, but could not open with our artillery and infantry fire until our men were safely over. It was a situation that required the greatest bravery for the men to stand there firmly, and to hold their fire until the enemy were within 100 yards of our intrenchments. But those stern-faced veterans from the Middle West, in regiments that were short, though compact, touched elbows and grappled grimly their trusty Enfields, ready to pour in their first volley as soon as the Fourth Corps men uncovered their front.

Oh, what a mistake the brave Wagner made! Through the gap, at last, and over the works our men came, with Cleburne and Brown hot after them. Wagner by this time was on his horse riding backward and facing the disorganized brigades, trying as hard as ever a man did to rally them. With terrible oaths he called them cowards, 

and shook his broken stick at them; but back they went to the town, and nothing could stop them. The writer was also mounted and assisted Wagner until, in front of the Carter House, he was so unfortunate as to be dismounted, receiving a slight wound in the leg from the same shot that killed his horse. Just then a young Sergeant, all made up of true mettle, and with flashing eye, turned and brought his gun down on the ground and said: "Hold on, boys; I don't go back another step." About 20 stopped with him. I patted him on the back and led him with his men into our reserve line; perhaps others stopped, but the great mass went through the town and across the river. Wagner was a great fighter; it is said that bullets rattled out of his clothes for a month after the battle of Stone's River, and his division was as good as any other, but they had been pressed too closely, and for some reason thought the whole line would break. Their officers tried hard to check them, but their organization was broken in their scramble back from the front. It was not the fault of the men, nor their officers, but of their rash General, and it was the only fault in his long, splendid career; but it lost him his command. Poor Wagner is now dead; his soul is in Heaven with the heroes, and let us exercise our full measure of charity in forgiving this one error, and cherish the memory of his personal valor and dauntless courage on the hard-fought battlefields of the West.

If our men, in this part of the line, with every fiber strained to almost breaking tension, could have had time to fire two or three volleys, they would have regained the nerve they had lost during this awful suspense, and held the line without a waver. But Cheatham's whole corps was right on top of those few regiments before they could fire a shot, and some of them were forced back a short distance from the line on either side of the pike. Now was the great opportunity for the brave Cols. Rousseau and White and the battery commander, Charley Scoville. The two former were in command of Reilly's second line and had been cautioned by Gen. Cox, before riding over to Henderson's Brigade, to look out for a break at this point, and when it did come they were ready. These troops were made up of those daring, earnest men from the mountains of East Tennessee and Kentuckians from the northeastern part of the State, where they were so thoroughly loyal that they kept on shooting rebels after the war was over. They did not wait for an order, but sprang over the low rifle-pits like tigers, and with a shrill shout that was heard even above the rebel yell, and a heroism rarely equalled by men, went pell-mell into the mass of Confederates that had taken our line and did not know what to do with it. At the same time Charley Scoville cracked his blacksnake whip around the ears of his artillerymen, and drove them back to the guns. At it they went with pick-axes and shovels, slashing all around them with the ferocity of demons.

For a few minutes there was a fierce hand-to-hand combat, and it was right in those few minutes that the fate of one or the other of the armies was to be decided. For a little time it looked decidedly against us, but the desperate determination of our men, who were rallying to regain the line, had its effect, and a change began to show itself.

A moment before Gen. Cox had sent Lieut. Tracy, one of his Aids, to order up Opdycke's Brigade, but they were already filing up the pike, left in front, with their chivalric chief on foot by their side. Gen. Cox led them diagonally across the pike, so as to uncover the buildings in Carter's yard, preparatory to charging the broken line in Strickland's front. They were pointed directly toward the place Rousseau and White were engaged, and the Confederates took it for a heavy reinforcement of that part of the line. One by one they seemed shaken, feeling that they were to be overpowered; and, not wishing to place themselves again in our front, they threw down their arms and rushed to our rear, prisoners without a guard.

When Opdycke's men faced to the front to charge the line, it was a more serious undertaking, as a larger number of men had broken over the works at this point, and had obtained a firmer footing. But there was nothing too alarming for Opdycke's bravery, and he urged his men forward, placing himself where he could prevent stragglers from dropping out. He broke his revolver over men's heads, and then seized a gun, and whoever looked back within his reach was jobbed under the blouse. So he rushed them on, and forced Brown's men from the outbuildings in Carter's yard. Strickland's men rallying, counter-charged and joined him and soon the ground was in our possession again, and a second line established.

Gen. Cox remained mounted during the entire engagement, so as to carefully watch the whole line; and while the confusion was greatest, during the break, he was in the midst, displaying heroic bravery, with hopeful look and sword poised above. The men saw his conspicuous figure, rallied around him, and he waved them back to the line. His sublime courage was an inspiration. and the weakest man in his command could not withstand its influence. If ever an example of personal bravery turned a tide of battle, surely at this point Gen. Cox's quiet but superb magnetism impelled every man who caught his eye to redoubled effort in wresting victory from defeat. Gen. Stanley was also there, showing great gallantry in encouraging the troops, but was wounded before he had been on the field 10 minutes; his horse was shot under him and Gen. Cox dismounted his staff officer, Tracey, who was riding his heavy claybank horse, turning it over to Stanley who rode to the rear.

Every charge ordered by Hood, or any of his Generals, after this first dreadful avalanche crumbled and broke, was 

foolhardy and reckless. After our line was re-established it was as steady as a granite wall; it was next to impossible to break it, and the enemy could only get over our parapet as prisoners or by being killed in the attempt. The brave soldiers of the South felt it, too, for their after charges, although started with a yell, were silent as they reached our furious sheets of flame, and as they were forced in their heads were bent, their hats pulled down, and their arms shielding from sight the almost certain death that awaited them.

It was the writer's pleasure, a few years since, while on a pilgrimage to the old battlefields, to meet at Nashville the late Gen. Cheatham, a very comfortable man to approach, with a make-up about equally divided between a well-to-do Southern farmer and a Prussian Field-Marshal, having a ruddy, full face and snow-white mustache. He greeted me most cordially, clasping me in his arms, and said: "Well, I heard you were here, and I've been looking all over for you. Welcome to Tennessee; any man who was in the battle of Franklin, no matter which side, is my friend." Then we had a good chat about old times. Referring to the two brigades out in front: " Ah," he said, "if it hadn't been for the mistake your side made there, you would have killed every man in our army, and God knows you killed enough of them." It is undoubtedly a fact that it the brigades had been called in at the right time, no part of our line would have been broken; and if all our brigades had heeded the precaution to place head-logs on our works, and abatised our front, as Casement's did, the loss all along the lines would have been as light as his, which was comparatively insignificant. The officers of Casement's Brigade had their men take timbers from the cotton-gin house at the right of the line, also cut trees from the grove, and carried the logs in to be placed on the top of the parapet. They rested on cross-ties hollowed out to receive them, leaving a three-inch space through which to fire.

The line was located about 50 feet from this hedge, so that by cutting off the trees about four feet above the ground it left an impenetrable obstruction, and at the same time open enough through which to fire. The tops were scattered along in front of Casement's Brigade, making one of the most deceptive rows of abatis ever formed; it was light, but an occasional crotched stick held it in place.

Capt. Baldwin’s battery was stationed at this point (15 on map), where the dead were piled up like snowdrifts in Winter time, and here it was that the obstructions caused them to mass so many deep.

The brave Captain quickly took advantage of the situation, and to mow down this dense forest of humanity he loaded his guns to the muzzles with triple rounds of canister and dummies made with stockings which the gunners took from their feet, and filled with bullets from the infantry ammunition boxes. To use the Captain's words, "At every discharge of my gun there were two distinct sounds--first the explosion, and then the bones." What fearful carnage, where, at short range, such loads of iron and lead were driven through the living wall of men, that the crunching of the bones could be distinguished! It was the same battery that was saved while marching out of Spring Hill by the coolness of one of the non-commissioned officers. Orders had been given to try to push through on the Franklin pike, with instructions to abandon and destroy the guns, and to save themselves and horses by breaking off into the fields on the left, if attacked and hard-pressed.

They were halted by a rebel picket reserve, posted a short distance from the road, and the demand came out from the darkness: "What battery is you-uns?" The commander was about to reply by unlimbering and turning his guns upon them, when the quick thought struck one of his Corporals to say, in a careless voice, "Tenth Alabam. What reegiment is you-uns ?" "Fourteenth Missipp," was the reply, and, apparently satisfied, the drowsy sentinel settled down in the fence-corner to sleep. They pushed on, and were not again molested until nearly daylight, when they were attacked by Hood's cavalry. "Battery by the left flank: Fire to the rear," was the Captain's prompt order. A half-dozen rounds of 12-pound solid shot scattered the cavalry and saved the trains of two corps.

The groans and moanings were pitiable from the poor fellows who were so badly wounded that they could not move away.

[The figures that follow refer to positions indicated on the map.]

(I) Here is where Gen. John Adams plunged through the abatis, cleared the ditch, and fell across the crest and headlog; the rider fell outside the line, with from 30 to 40 wounds. He was gently handled, and placed upon the ground inside the lines.

(2) This is where Jack Casement stood when he made his great speech.

When the approaching enemy was nearing our line he sprang upon the works and turned to his troops, and, with that noted ringing voice that everyone could hear: "Men, do you see those damn rebel ___ ___ ___(you all know the other three words) coming ?"

Then a shout went up. "Well, I want you to stand here like rocks, and whip hell out of them." He then faced about and fired his revolvers until they were empty, and jumped down with the men. The oratory may not have been as elegant as though studied for the occasion, but Caesar to his Romans and Hannibal to his Carthagenians never made speeches thrilling their armies with more effect. It was what they understood and appreciated, and what they did afterwards showed how well it was heeded. Not one man left the line, and it was Col. Jack's example that held them to the firing line. As a commander of men he had no superior, having that magnetic influence which drew from them their full capacity of service. His look and command held them as firmly as the silken sashes that bound together the Greeks at the pass of Thermopylae.