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sides their guns and accoutrements, and continued until everything of value had been carried to the woods, a full mile in our rear.
On retiring with the withdrawal of the flag, and reaching our men in rear, I found that the dead were being hastily buried, and the living were preparing to return to Cave City.
This surprised me; for pending the flag of truce Lieutenant Watt L. Strickland, an aid on General Chalmers's staff, came up, and, calling me aside, said that General J. K. Jackson, of Georgia, was near with a division of infantry, and that on his arrival the attack would be renewed and successfully pressed.
It appears, however, that this information furnished the enemy at the time of the demand for a surrender — was a ruse on the part of General Chalmers, in order to extricate his men from their perilous situation.
Finding that the enemy was too strong for him, and were veterans instead of raw recruits, he returned in quick haste to Cave City.
On the 16th (two days later) Gen
division commander, General Withers, that he could find no line to support—that there were no Confederate forces save his own picket line in his front.
This was immediately dispatched to Army Headquarters, and soon thereafter a courier rode up to General Anderson's position with orders for his Assistant Adjutant General to report at army headquarters without delay.
Following the courier for several miles, we finally drew up our tired steeds in front of one of the finest mansions in Murfreesboro, and on making myself known I was invited by an aid-de-camp of General Bragg into a large double-roomed folding parlor, elegantly furnished, where sat the commander in chief, surrounded by his corps and division commanders.
Besmeared with mud, and tired from exposure and loss of sleep, I felt decidedly out of place in this galaxy of Generals, but on entering the room I was somewhat relieved when General Withers rising introduced me as the officer who had penciled the dispatch about whi