rmined to die, I'll die with you." We were at that time
at least a hundred yards in advance of the brigade, Cheatham all the time
calling upon the men to come on. He was leading the charge in person.
Then it was that I saw the power of one man, born to command, over a
multitude of men then almost routed and demoralized. I saw and felt that
he was not fighting for glory, but that he was fighting for his country
because he loved that country, and he was willing to give his life for
his country and the success of our cause. He deserves a wreath of
immortality, and a warm place in every Southron's heart, for his brave
and glorious example on that bloody battlefield of Murfreesboro. Yes,
his history will ever shine in beauty and grandeur as a name among the
brightest in all the galaxy of leaders in the history of our cause.

Now, another fact I will state, and that is, when the private soldier was
ordered to charge and capture the twelve pieces of artillery, heavily
supported by infantry, Maney's brigade raised a whoop and yell, and
swooped down on those Yankees like a whirl-a-gust of woodpeckers in a
hail storm, paying the blue coated rascals back with compound interest;
for when they did come, every man's gun was loaded, and they marched upon
the blazing crest in solid file, and when they did fire, there was a
sudden lull in the storm of battle, because the Yankees were nearly all
killed. I cannot remember now of ever seeing more dead men and horses
and captured cannon, all jumbled together, than that scene of blood and
carnage and battle on the Wilkerson turnpike. The ground was literally
covered with blue coats dead; and, if I remember correctly, there were
eighty dead horses.

By this time our command had re-formed, and charged the blazing crest.

The spectacle was grand. With cheers and shouts they charged up the hill,
shooting down and bayoneting the flying cannoneers, General Cheatham,
Colonel Field and Joe Lee cutting and slashing with their swords.
The victory was complete. The whole left wing of the Federal army was
driven back five miles from their original position. Their dead and
wounded were in our lines, and we had captured many pieces of artillery,
small arms, and prisoners.

When I was wounded, the shell and shot that struck me, knocked me
winding. I said, "O, O, I'm wounded," and at the same time I grabbed
my arm. I thought it had been torn from my shoulder. The brigade had
fallen back abou