After repulsing our advance the enemy fell back. The 9th Indiana was ordered up and took the advance. As we moved through the Gap we saw the saddest sight of the campaign. A trooper lay beside the road gasping his life away, and near him with a ghastly wound in his breast, lay dead the little curly-headed, blue-eyed boy, Duane A. Lewis, Co. B., sixteen years old, the General's orderly, whose bright and joyous face and fearless innocence had endeared him to the heart of every soldier in the brigade. The pitiless rain fell upon his upturned childish face; his eyes were open, but their light had gone out forever.
Gen. Knipe said to Hammond: "Take your command and go to Franklin; don't skirmish with the enemy three minutes, but attack him where found and drive him through the town."
The rain was gently falling, the heavy fog of early morning was somewhat dissipated, yet so dense that objects could not be distinctly seen at a distance. With a long trot we swept down the pike against a shadowy foe—ourselves but shadows. The depressing weather and the sad scene just passed made the lightest heart grow heavier as we swept along. Suddenly from the woods on the left a body of Confederate horse sprang into the road in front of us, and in a ghostly gallop lead the way to their lines.
Debouching into the open near Franklin, the cannon from the fort opened on us with shell. The head of the column turned to the right a short distance and wheeled into line—the centre and left coming on "front into line." Hammond being at the head of the column gave the command to charge before the line was barely formed. The right sprang forward at the command and was rapidly followed by the center. The left, under Capt. Hobson, was not yet in line and did not hear the command. Hammond again shouted "charge!" Hobson was looking after the alignment and did not hear the command. Hammond galloped to him and said: "You cowardly s— of a b—ch! why don't you charge?" Hobson raised himself in the stirrups and said: "Boys, we will show who are cowards! Forward! March! Trot! Charge!!" and lead the boys right up to the fort, where he was shot through the heart.[[4]] A stone wall on the left caused them to crowd on the centre and against the fort. The right also was forced to press in on the centre, by reason of a nursery, which, for horses, was practically impenetrable. The centre charged right down the open grounds on the left of the pike.
Lieut. Watts, of Company I, fell dead on the pike at the head of Company G. Lieut. Duvall, who lead Company H, was shot in the breast—a wound which hastened his death, occurring in 1880.
The Confederates had torn down the telegraph wire and, driving posts at intervals, had encircled the fort with it. This was unseen by the assaulting party until their horses tumbled over it. Encumbered by the horses who were useless in attacking a fort, impeded by a stone wall and wire-fence, under an awful fire of grape and canister and musketry at short range, the regiment fell back in disorder, but not without bringing off two stands of colors and over two hundred prisoners. These captures were made by individual prowess, and were not the result of concerted action.
Falling back perhaps two hundred yards from the fort and partially sheltered from the shells and musket balls by a slight depression in the plain, Acting Adjutant Comstock, under orders from the Colonel, planted the regimental colors, and the line was soon formed again. This was done quickly and well under fire. The shells were passing overhead and bursting threw the fragments among the men in a distressingly familiar way.
Lieut. Burroughs, of Company C, had been disabled in the charge, and, as the men from the left were crossing the pike to form on the colors, he asked for assistance to remount his horse, which was standing near. Two men dismounted to assist him, but just then a fragment from a bursting shell tore away part of his skull. He was carried to the rear in a dying condition.
As the same party were hastening to the right, as before mentioned, a shell passed through two horses, taking off the leg of one of the riders. Another horse had his head taken off as with a broad-axe. In the charge a horse was struck full in the breast with a cannon ball, passing through and disemboweling him. The rider went headlong in the mud, where he lay stunned until the fight was over. The charge was unwisely ordered, but bravely and brilliantly executed. To ride down in the face of a withering fire on a fort inaccessible to cavalry, defended by artillery and infantry, greatly outnumbering the attacking force, was apparently a ride to death. That it was not so we must thank Him without whose notice no sparrow falls to the ground. No one faltered; none turned back until all that could be done was accomplished. Bravely as this was done, it did not show forth that true courage, born of moral worth and a high sense of duty, as did the prompt rallying of the broken companies, and the speedy reforming of the line, under fire, and the patient waiting for orders among the bursting shells. This was the true touchstone of our greatness as a regiment, and nobly did the boys stand the test.
In his report, dated December 27th, 1864, Gen. Hammond, of this action, says: