resolutely held for awhile and our men then fell back to the works, whence a fire was opened that staggered the advancing lines and threw them into some confusion. This enabled Lieut. Bennett, of the battery, to bring off his two pieces which were near being lost. In this affair we had several killed and wounded; of the latter two officers of the 4th Ohio.

It was now apparent that not only was there a formidable force of cavalry in the rear, but a large body of infantry, with cavalry and cannon, in front. The dismounted regiments fell back and remounted under severe musketry. Kilpatrick called a hurried council of the brigade commanders. The foe was not only in front and rear but our flanks were being enveloped. There was but one advisable course—to make a quick, vigorous, desperate charge, break their lines, and cut our way out. The decision was prompt. The force behind was evidently the weaker and was, therefore, chosen for the attack.

The two brigades of the 2d Division were formed in two ranks, stretching across a great corn-field, while the 3d Division formed behind them. Sabers were drawn and, at the bugle signal, all galloped forward. The Confederates saw the movement and tried valiantly to stem the onset. Shells screamed overhead and grape and canister rattled like hail. Their smaller arms, too, played briskly. It was a scene of wild and fierce excitement. Owing to the irregular nature of the ground, after leaving the corn-field no regular alignment was possible, and it soon became a charge of squadrons, companies, squads, and single riders. Bullets whistled and comrades fell, but the command spurred on to increased speed—shouted, yelled and still dashed on. Over fences and gullies, and then a wide ravine; through brush and dense timber, whose gnarled and low-hanging branches literally tore men from their saddles; across a great marsh where horses almost swamped—onward the resistless force rushes and strikes the enemy fully and fairly. Sabers flash in the air, pistols and carbines belch forth sulphur smoke. The unexpected movement, the sudden and impetuous charge, as of victorious ranks rather than desperate battalions essaying a forlorn hope, had amazed the confronting foe; the fierce onset shattered his lines; he resists stubbornly for a little while, then gives ground, turns to escape, and is routed completely. But, meanwhile, his fire on our flank had been sharp and we suffered severely. On a knoll on the left were two guns belching out grape and canister. So galling was their fire that the charge was greatly retarded on that flank. These must be silenced, and a force dashes up the aclivity “into the very jaws of death.” Every gunner is killed or captured.

At such a time artillery was an awkward encumbrance, yet one piece was brought off safely. Prisoners, too, were an encumbrance, and few were taken along. They were simply disarmed and left on the field where captured. Had time and circumstance permitted the rebel battery could have been brought off as a trophy, and some hundreds of prisoners. Consternation had evidently seized the rebel ranks, for they threw down their arms by scores and begged for quarter. Our business was to cut through and get out, and this was done, though many a noble fellow was left behind. Among those who fell that day was Capt. Wm. H. Scott, an associate of the writer on Gen. Eli Long’s staff—not killed outright, but mortally wounded. “A braver spirit never laid its life upon its country’s altar.” He was struck by a grape shot and fell from his horse, but, in that mad ride—in the face of that deadly storm of lead and iron—it were death to halt even though a dear friend had fallen.

The command was naturally much scattered and much time occupied in reforming for the march. This enabled Cleburne to close up on us. In the new formation Long’s Brigade had the rear of column and the 3d Ohio the post of