The boys made the discovery quickly, warning each other with, “Look out, boys; here come the Webs!”
We had already gained a position in an open field, protected by a large fence on our left and front, and as the infantry advanced in fours up the pike we opened so hot a fire upon them that they retreated also. At the same time their main force was in an open field, with a regiment on each flank, field and staff in the center, forming one of the grandest “hollow squares” that we ever saw. Their ordnance was stationed on the pike, well supported. It was a magnificent sight and admirably executed. They doubtless believed that we were about to charge them, but we had no such intention.
One of the General’s aids, Captain Williams, of South Carolina, informed us the command was near. Until they reached us we were under a terrific fire of shot and shell, with no alternative save to hold our position until relieved. It was a glad sight to us to see the Third Kentucky Cavalry take post immediately on our left and rear, followed closely by the Second, which formed on our right, and the Tenth, which took place on our extreme left. We knew by this that the General’s eye was upon us, and our anxieties were over.
The column advanced, and we were relieved with liberty to act as we pleased. Well, we pleased to go around the enemy and strike him between that place and Murfreesboro, which we did successfully, capturing seventeen flying cavalrymen, the Yankee general’s horse fully equipped, exterminating a member of the “Freedmen’s Bureau” who was found in arms against his friends and country, and then pursued a detachment of cavalry with a few miles of their main encampment, which perhaps had been sent for reinforcement.
On returning to the scene of action, the firing, which had been very severe, had ceased and we were in some doubt as to how the battle had terminated. But while passing near the enemy he took the liberty of throwing a few shells, without injury to any one, which was good evidence that he was in defiance still. On finding and reporting to the General, he was exceedingly angry; and well might he be—the ammunition had been exhausted, many of his “bravest and best” had fallen, and the enemy was still unconquered.
Our lines went forward with great spirit and gallantry to their rear, but unfortunately we compelled the Yankees to take refuge in one of the best positions to be found anywhere. This was on a hill in shape resembling a pyramid, in the center of a valley, not connected with the neighboring range, thickly wooded and naturally fortified with immense rocks, which afforded ample protection to the enemy. We found it impossible to dislodge him from this position, although our troops fought desperately.
The General justly complained that there was not concert of action, and seemed determined to take them, ammunition or not. But ere the assault began the Yankees were heard loudly cheering, and we knew reinforcements had arrived.
Quickly turning to the boys, the General told them to halloa manfully, and such yells filled the air as were never heard before, I am sure. He then dispatched an aide to the officer commanding his artillery, with instructions to silence the Yankee battery.
In the short space of half an hour nine men were killed and fifteen wounded—surely a great sacrifice of lives just to silence a battery. But they hushed the Yankee and compelled him to “limber up.” This was the conclusion of the battle of Milton.
With sad and depressed hearts we sullenly withdrew and began our march to camp. Foiled, but not whipped, we always remembered it as a blank page in our book of successes. Although the enemy received heavy reinforcements, he had not the impudence or pluck to follow us. Our encampment was reached late, and we all went to sleep without being rocked.