Strangely enough no casualty occurred in the line. Some annoyance was felt from a house on the left front occupied by sharp-shooters. A small squad, by permission, stole down upon them unobserved. Making a rush for the house the gray-backs went out of the back door as the boys went in at the front. The family were at breakfast. One of the boys sat down and had a hearty lunch, while the others searched the house from cellar to garret. Notifying the owner that another shot from the house would meet with response from the cannon, the boys returned and took their place in line.
And still the cannonade kept up. Shells passing overhead reached the horses in the rear, carrying consternation to the boys who were holding them. One came up to the line to get permission to trade places with one of the boys, saying if he had to be killed he preferred to die as a soldier, and not as a hostler.
Col. Jackson rode a white horse and, with his orderlies, remained mounted during this action. Wherever this horse was the shells were thickest. Upon being asked why he rode this horse he said that in battle no one hit what he shot at. So he rode this horse for safety. The Colonel held a fairly good place in the affections of his men, but none cared to cultivate any closer relations with him on this occasion. It was two sad-eyed orderlies who followed him up and down the line these two solemn hours.
The rebel battery ceasing to return our fire, we returned to our horses and about noon moved to the Cranny White Pike. Crossing it, we dismounted and climbed a hill—the remainder of the brigade going into line on our left. As we went into position the brass band of a regiment on our immediate left was playing a melancholy piece—doubtless expressing the feelings of the musicians, but certainly not inciting an appetite for battle in the hearers.
For some hours we lay upon this hill exchanging shots, occasionally, with an unseen foe, without loss. The 10th Indiana on our left lost some killed and wounded. About 4 P. M. Knipe ordered an advance of the whole division. The 9th did not wait, but, springing to their feet, dashed eagerly down the hill and away after the enemy, who did not stand upon the order of their going, but went at once.
Strict orders had been given to reserve fire until we should get in short range, but some nervous comrade, with patriotism at his finger ends, discharged his gun and at once a line of fire ran down the ranks. An effort to stop the shooting was made without avail. Company K had a man killed; a number were slightly wounded. Two Confederates were seriously wounded in or near a house at the base of the hill, where we discontinued the pursuit.
This could scarcely be dignified by the name of "a charge," as the enemy practically made no resistance. With fear to lend them speed they were further from us at the end of the race than upon the start. The day was damp and cold; many had on overcoats and poncho blankets. The haste with which we obeyed the order to advance did not give them time to divest themselves of extra clothing. The charge was along through a corn-field a foot deep in mud, intersected by several ditches and washouts, four to six feet deep, and from three to ten feet wide. Cavalry boots and other impediments made this a decidedly warm trip.
The rebels were now evidently badly whipped, and if the cavalry corps had now been mounted we could certainly have cut off the retreat by the Franklin road and practically bagged the entire game. By the time the horses could be brought up night had come and we went into camp at the base of the hill, from which the enemy had given us a parting shot at 5 o'clock.
The rebel army at the close of the fight on the 16th were completely whipped; the infantry with which the cavalry corps had contended were a demoralized and panic-stricken mob. Forrest, with his main body of cavalry, had not been present during the battle. Two brigades had reached the field on the evening of the 16th, and, holding the passes through the Brentwood hills, from the Granny White Pike, enabled the panic-stricken horde to reach the Franklin Pike and cross Little Harpeth. Night and Forrest's cavalry alone saved Hood's army from total capture. A strong rear guard of cavalry was formed to cover the retreat of the broken rebel columns, and, although the battle was won our work was but fairly begun. About midnight a heavy rain set in which continued at intervals for some days following.
By the early dawn the First Brigade was in the saddle en route for the Franklin Pike, the 19th Pennsylvania in advance, supported by the 10th Indiana. On reaching the pike the whole command started down toward Franklin at a swinging trot. Soon striking the enemy they gave way before the impetuosity of the advance and were rapidly driven back, losing many prisoners. At Hollow Tree Gap a considerable body of infantry were strongly posted, who repulsed the two regiments in front with the loss of 22 killed and wounded and 63 prisoners, principally from the 10th Indiana. To offset this, the 10th had captured and brought off the field two Colonels, two Lieutenant-Colonels, one Major and more than one hundred enlisted men. The 9th, being in the rear, had all the morning seen the evidences of the demoralization of the enemy. The guns and other equipments strewn along the road, the apparent abandonment of everything that impeded their flight, every door-yard filled with illy-clad shivering prisoners, had lead us to the conclusion that we had "a walk over." Hollow Tree Gap undeceived us.