Instead of an undisturbed night of repose, as we had fondly hoped for, the Seventh Tennessee was aroused from its slumbers at 2 o’clock in the morning with the information that Forrest himself was to lead it in pursuit of the enemy. With Company E in front I, happening to be in the front file, could very well see everything that was likely to come up on this memorable advance. Much of our way was lighted up by wagons and other abandoned property burning. In one place the forewheel of a gun carriage had been locked by a tree and this and several other handsome brass pieces in its rear had been abandoned. Many Federal soldiers, now thoroughly exhausted, were sleeping by the roadside, while others, armed and unarmed, willingly surrendered. They were invariably told to go to the rear. Further along, I counted ninety-five wagons laden with supplies strung along the narrow road. The wheels of some had been locked by trees and evidently abandoned in hot haste by those who had ridden the teams away. I saw much of General Forrest that night, who was in great good humor in regard to the results of the previous day’s battle. When approaching Ripley, early in the day, which town is about twenty miles from the battle-field, we were relieved by other troops going forward to press the enemy, who were making a stand just north of the town. Buford and Bell were there, and we knew what that meant.
We rode leisurely through the town and to the outskirts. A battle was going on, but the enemy was believed to be retreating. The command to form fours and prepare to charge was given. Company E, in front was soon going at a lively pace and it soon became a question of speed as to who should reach the enemy first. My little black horse responded in fine style. At a flying gallop we went straight up the road and, though hearing guns on every hand, could see no enemy to charge. Instantly we saw in the woods to our left a whole regiment of Federal cavalry aiming to reach the road at an angle and speed that would throw them into it just ahead of us. Over the hill they went as fast as their horses would carry them. Tom Nelson of Company L, coming up, he and I found ourselves in uncomfortable proximity to the enemy, for as we too went over the hill, there they were with their rear huddled together in the valley, with something apparently blocking their front. Nelson and I had not intended to fight a whole regiment, but we shot out everything we had at them. Pressing towards the front and turning in their saddles, as they went up the hill, they gave us a few shots from their carbines which, I remember well, they held in one hand. At a cooler moment, I inquired with some interest how it was that such a thing as I have related could happen. No one attempted an explanation. Nelson and I were present in the flesh and had occasion to remember well all that took place, though events were passing with lightning celerity. Perhaps, perchance and maybe, it was a case of horseflesh. It was the Third Iowa Cavalry we were charging. Colonel C. A. Stanton, not so very long ago a citizen of Memphis, was an officer in this regiment and has a clear recollection of the incident. I was somewhat surprised a few years ago when Billy Elkins, a member of Company E, reminded me of the occasion and rehearsed what took place about as I remember it myself.