He was always of the greatest assistance to me. But what risks he would take! It was my custom to approach a log hut or rail pile on the road cautiously and expose as little of myself and horse as possible; but he would gallop on ahead in the middle of the road, singing or whistling with the greatest glee, and there had to be more than two rebel cavalrymen stationed in the road to keep him from charging. When he mounted his horse at Franklin and rode off along the line, with his full figure exposed above the works, the staff officers remarked to each other that he would surely be killed. It was late at night when we found him near the cotton-gin, where the hand-to-hand fighting was the fiercest. We lifted the cape from his pale face, and the stars looked down with us and wept. He was a handsome fellow of 22 years, with intelligent blue eyes, classic features, and a trim brown beard that the contaminating razor had never touched. He was born in southern Illinois, of Irish parents. Previous to the war he found employment as a school teacher in Kentucky, and when his regiment was recruited he was one of the first to offer his services.

His mind had been usually bright and happy, but gloomy spells were coming oftener as the dread disease of epilepsy increased and blighted his future. The nights were more frequent, when, after one of these spasms, I gently rolled him back in bed.

There was no suffering, and he had no recollection in the morning of what had occurred; but once in a while a depressed feeling would prompt him to ask me if he had been unwell in the night, and I would satisfy him with a cheering word. We who knew him, when we saw him dead, believed that what he most dearly wished had come. Dying like a hero in one of the greatest battles of the world's history, before his mind became clouded and his system broken with bad health, was to him well treasured as his dearest prayer.

(3) During one of the charges that was made on this part of the line, an incident occurred at Scoville's battery which is worth relating.

A slight boy of not more than 15 years, with drum on his back, belonging to one of the Missouri regiments, foolishly attempted to force his way through one of the embrasures and thrust a fence rail into the mouth of the cannon, thinking by his brave act, to stop the use of that gun. It was heavily loaded at the time, and was fired, tearing the poor boy to shreds, so that nothing was ever found of him.

After our return from Nashville, we again put up at the Carter House, where we found a young man nursing two companions. After breakfast he accompanied me in front of the works, and pointed out where his regiment was buried. There were only three of his company left--two wounded and he alone unhurt. All the other companies suffered about the same loss. Their graves were marked with slabs of stave timber and the names painted thereon.

Our dead were gathered from the field and thrown promiscuously into the ditch and covered en masse with a foot of earth. There is nothing left of the old cotton-gin but the stone foundation piers on which the timbers stood, but near the site is a brick college building, and on the sloping grounds in front of same the ditch where our men are buried is plainly marked by a strip of verdure much brighter in color than the adjoining lawn, and studded with daisies and buttercups of luxurious growth, enriched with the blood of the heroes of both sides, whose spirits were here intertwined and ascended together into bivouac above the skies, reporting to the Great Commander with equal faith in the justice of their cause.

This little locust grove, shown on the map, was a sight to see after the battle. The trees stood in a swampy swale, were from two to five inches in diameter, and very close together. They were in front of Opdycke's and Strickland's Brigades, where more charges were made than on any other part of the line. The firing here from both sides was terrific. Many of the larger trees were cut entirely off. by bullets, all that were standing and all the stumps had each hundreds of bullet marks. Some were cut in shreds from bottom to top, and had the appearance, as much as anything, of broken hempstocks. The slopes beyond our whole front resembled fields recently raked or harrowed.

The Carter cottage, at this point, is the first place visited by Southern tourists. The dwelling, which is of brick, looks on the south end as if it had been marked with smallpox in blue spots, and all the surrounding outbuildings have bullet marks in almost every square inch. There were also holes from solid shot or shells from rebel guns.

Col. Carter, who at the time was a paroled prisoner, his father, with members of the family and neighbors, remained in the cellar during the whole of the fearful carnage. After the battle was over, and our men had left, the sisters and others of the household took lanterns and went out in the rear of their house, hoping to be of some service to the wounded, and among the first was their own dear brother, between the locust grove and the abatis, mortally wounded.

A large proportion of Cheatham's command were raised in this part of Tennessee, which accounts, to a great extent, without doubt, for their determination and bravery in trying to drive the invaders from their homes.

(4) This is the spot where Gen. Pat Cleburne, the raw-boned Irish General from Arkansas, one of the greatest fighters in the Confederate army, fell with his iron-gray stallion, in a perfect cyclone of leaden hail. The horse was 100 feet from the line, but Cleburne's body was found close to the works in the middle of the pike.

(5) Gen. Gist was killed here trying to carry Strickland's line: and (6) Gen. Gordon was captured here by the Carter House; (7) Strahl was killed here, and (8) Carter mortally wounded.

(9) Gen. Managault fell severely wounded in front of Moore's Brigade.

The loss of general officers in Stewart's Corps was also large, but not so fatal.

(10) Gen. Cockrell, brigade commander in French's Division, fell with two severe wounds.

(11) Gen. Quarles's command of Walthall's Division suffered heavily; he himself was terribly wounded; his staff officers were all killed, and the regimental field officers were all killed and wounded, so that the ranking officer of the brigade who led them off was only a Captain.

(12) Gen. Scott, brigade commander in Loring's Division, was wounded by a shell during the first charge.

(13) Gen. Granberry, of Cleburne's Division, was killed on the pike in one of the desperate charges that were made to carry the center. This terrible loss of general officers is probably the greatest shown in so short a battle. The loss of field and company officers was also surprisingly large. In some of the regiments of French's line there were no commissioned officers ready for duty, all being either killed, wounded or captured. Many of the field and line officers gave themselves up and came over our lines, the most of them reporting to Gen. Cox, and their stories were gloomy in the extreme.

They said the organization of the whole army was broken; that there was hardly a company officer that knew where his men were.

Some of them were in the battle before Atlanta on the 22d day of July (the day McPherson was killed). This was the second fierce battle that Hood made after he superseded Johnston, where the Confederates assaulted our works and were repulsed. Then their right wing enveloped our left flank and attacked us in the rear, our men springing over the rebel side of the fortifications and meeting their assault, defeating them with great slaughter, and pursuing them with loud shouts, which the enemy in our front mistook for a success by the flanking columns, and again attacked us with much fury, only to be terribly cut by the fire of our men for the third time. They thought that was hard fighting, but it was nothing compared to this, and they added: "What is the use in fighting any more? Haven't we had enough of it ?"

(14) Right here is where Clarkie died. The men of the 7th Ohio will need no other name to understand whom I mean, but others will know him better as Mervin Clark, who went out in the very beginning of the war as Orderly-Sergeant of DeVillier's Zonaves. He was the light, delicate boy of 17 who was so brilliant in the bayonet exercise. He was the idol of the old 7th, and soon received a commission for gallantry. It was his example in front of the firing line, with his bright smile and apparent unconcern under heavy firing, that stimulated many an older officer and impelled them to deeds of bravery. He had the lovely character of a gentle girl and the lion heart of a hero combined. After his term of service as Captain of the 7th and muster-out, he returned to his Cleveland home. During a visit to a neighboring 

town on the lake shore he became engaged to a beautiful young woman, whom he had known since childhood; but parental consent was refused, and in his despondency enlisted in the Regular army. Some of his influential friends secured a commission for him as Lieutenant-Colonel of the 183d Ohio, and he was with it, in command. They were mostly young recruits, with a few veterans from old regiments. To a large proportion, though, this was their first baptism of fire. When the solid lines of Brown’s Division rushed against them, one wing broke, and Col. Clark seized the colors from the bearer and rushed to the crest of the works, then turned to his men, holding the flag above his head and begged them to come back. They did go back, but found poor "Clarkie" dead.

He fell in the arms of Col. Zollinger, of the 123d Ind. It was a great loss to the men, with whom he was so popular, but under other brave officers they remained in the works until they were relieved with the rest of the line. His loss was to me a source of great sorrow, for we were schoolmates and he was my boyhood chum. After dinner, Col. Casement called at our headquarters and told us that Clarkie, with his new regiment, was over in back of our house on the line. My first impulse was to rush over and see him, but at that instant was called out on the works in our front. When I heard that he was among the killed, I regretted that I did not steal even a few minutes to go over and greet him before the battle commenced. They captured some of our colors while crowding Wagner's Brigade back from the front, and at the breaking of our line; but we secured a great many more of theirs.

My recollection now is that 20-odd stands were taken in front of Reilly's Brigade, and that Lieut. Brown, of Reilly's staff, captured eight of them, and carried them in person to Washington. About 10:30 o’clock at night a staff officer from headquarters rode over to our line, and told Gen. Cox that Gen. Schofield had received a dispatch from Thomas to immediately fall back on Nashville. Gen. Cox then related to the staff officer the true condition of affairs in our front, and the reports we had received from the prisoners of the terribly cut-up condition of their whole army, stating that, under the circumstances, it would be a mistake to retreat, and begging him to go back to the General, and see if Thomas could not be prevailed upon to countermand his orders, to send on in the night fresh supplies of ammunition, and, if possible, Gen. A. J. Smith's command. He also sent his Adjutant-General, Col. Theodore Cox, with the message that he would answer with his head for holding the lines: and that we ought to assume the offensive from that point, without delay, and reap the full benefit of the terrible defeat we had already inflicted upon Hood's army.

Gen. Schofield's reply was: "Tell Gen. Cox he has won a glorious victory, and I have no doubt we could do as he suggests in the morning. But my orders from Gen. Thomas are imperative, and we must move back to Nashville as soon as possible."

Orders were then given to leave a strong skirmish line in the works in charge of Maj. Dow, Cox's Inspector, and withdraw the troops to the other side of the river. About the time the movement was started, a house was set on fire in the town, the light of which would expose our withdrawal, and the fire had to be extinguished before we actually started; in due time, though, everything, including troops, trains, wounded, and prisoners, also the skirmish line, were safely crossed. The planks were removed from the bridges, and we again took up our retreat to Nashville.

A few years after the war it was my pleasure to ride in the cars from Columbus, Ohio, to Baltimore, in company with Gen. S. D. Lee, one of Hood's Corps Commanders in the Tennessee campaign. After introducing ourselves, he being from Mississippi and I from Ohio, our conversation soon drifted into war matters, and when he found that I had a pretty fair idea of the battlefield of Franklin, we were warm friends, and in a friendly way we fought over that battle all the way to Baltimore. He told me what shape they were in that night. At 12 o'clock they were not aware of our retreat, and Hood had called a council of war. He first asked Stewart what he had to report. That General replied that his corps was all cut to pieces; that there was no organization left except with the artillery; that his losses had been very heavy, that he would not be able to make an active move in the morning.

Cheatham was then called upon, and his report was even more despondent and gloomy. Then looking fiercely at Lee, Hood said: "Are you, too, going back on me?" He replied: "General, two of my divisions are badly cut up, but I have one division left that has not been engaged, and, if you say so, in the morning I will take them and charge with the bayonet." Hood saw, of course, that there was no use in attempting offensive operations again, but decided right there at daylight they would mass their artillery and hurl shot and shell at our works and the town during the entire day, and make as bold a show as possible preparatory to getting out of the bad situation into which his foolhardy intrepidity had led him. There is no doubt that when in the early morning he discovered our troops were withdrawn, there never lived a man more surprised. He fully expected that we would take advantage of his crippled condition, and move out to crush him; knowing full-well that he could only fall back to the hills and rely upon his artillery and cavalry to hold us in check, while he withdrew his shattered army back across Duck River.

In fact, instead of at once pursuing, he remained there, not knowing what to do, and it was not until the 3d of December that he moved up to Nashville and established his lines. Even this timid movement was doubtless intended only to cover his retreat, and give him a chance to fix up the railroad and bridges, so as to get his transportation safely back on the south side of the river. How well he succeeded in this was demonstrated from the fact that notwithstanding our rapid pursuit, no wagons or equipment were captured on the road from Nashville to Columbia after we passed through the camps south of the town. After so many facts had been learned, there is no doubt that Gen. Cox was right when he first advised against the retreat from Franklin. Although the result at Nashville has been considered glorious, still, if the "Old Rock of Chickamauga" could for once have been turned, and sent the 9,000 of Smith's command, who were at Nashville on the 30th of November, by forced march to Franklin, and the balance with Steadman's troops as soon as they could have been forwarded, the result at Franklin would have been far more glorious. We would have had the enemy in the open field instead of behind intrenchments, and we would have found them that morning in the most thoroughly demoralized state in which an army could be placed. We would, to say the least, have saved the losses of the first day of the battle of Nashville, and would have captured very much more in the way of prisoners, artillery, and trains. It would have given us the opportunity to bury our dead as soldiers, and not have them thrown in the ditches as carrion and covered with only a foot of earth. Perhaps the most important advantage, though, to our side would have been the fact that their army would be so deficient in leaders, so many of their best Generals, field officers and commanders in the line having been killed and disabled; and there would not have been time for the reorganization that was accomplished in the next fortnight at Nashville. Besides they would have been burdened with their thousands of wounded and the absence in the line of the able-bodied men who would have to accompany them to the rear would still farther weaken their effective force. It required a full day to get the seriously wounded in field hospitals and those who were able to travel loaded in wagons for the rear.

Among the prisoners that we captured there were a large number that were slightly wounded and able to accompany us to Nashville.

Just before starting on our midnight march north of the river I alighted from my reserve horse to give him a rest, for he was slightly wounded, and visited with a group of prisoners and guards that had been halted on the road by a hillside, where overhanging roots and boughs concealed them sufficiently, so that they had made small fires, and were preparing coffee. The big-hearted guards were sharing liberally from their haversacks with the prisoners.

It was an impressive incident to witness such comradeship and listen to their jokes. In the red flickering light and blue smoke, with a dark background, it was a picturesque sight that would have delighted a Salvator to study. Some of the prisoners were grimy, had long hair and' black stubbed beards with blood-stained bandages over scalp wounds, and arm slings of yellow and red bandannas.

All were ragged and dirty, mostly in butternut homespun, and nearly all wore black or gray slouch hats, several marked with bullet holes. Some of the older ones were silent and thoughtful, but the younger men were cheerful and apparently enjoying their captive life.

They were congratulating themselves that their guns and accouterments, which had been tossed into army wagons, would be no longer a burden to them; and there was an evident feeling of relaxation after the fearful ordeal that had so thoroughly tried their splendid courage.

It was plainly noticeable in the faces of nearly all of them that they had lost heart in their cause; but there were exceptions, for some were still defiant and full of fight, as shown by their bold and dogged expressions.

The battle of Franklin was without doubt the most decisive engagement of the campaign, and perhaps tended more than any other towards terminating general hostilities in the West; for on this bloody field the strongest army of the Confederacy in this section of the country was so thoroughly cut-up and weakened that it was no longer feared in offensive operations.

The heroic stand made by the Twenty-third Corps and Opdycke's Brigade of the Fourth Corps, with the magnificent valor displayed by the sturdy veterans of these organizations, was the cause of their downfall. After the completion of the campaign at Nashville and the subsequent rout of the Confederates, it was decided that Gen. Schofield's army was no longer needed in the West, and it was transferred to and became a part of the grand army in the East. The Fourth and Sixteenth Corps, under the able leadership of Gen. Thomas, were considered strong enough to wipe nut the last vestiges of the rebellion in the West.

It would seem proper, perhaps, before terminating this story of the retreat, to give some account of what happened subsequently at Nashville. But this paper has already been drawn out too long, and as our first two weeks' besiegement was of a very monotonous character, beleagured by an army that we know was crippled to death, almost by defeat, it would hardly be interesting to you to hear a description of our chafing and uneasiness-particularly the last week, which would appear as slipshod to you as it did to us.

The authorities at Washington were very uneasy because of our inactivity, and Gen. Logan had been sent by Halleck with an order to relieve Thomas and place Schofield in command. He was detained at Louisville by the same ice storm that had for several days made it impossible for us to move. Nothing occurred until the last two days of our stay at Nashville, the 15th and 16th of December.