In the sudden start we made, Major Hawkins lost his hat. He did not
stop to pick it up. When we arrived at a perfectly safe position we
halted to take an account of damages. McPherson's horse was panting as
if ready to drop. On examination it was found that a ball had struck
him forward of the flank just back of the saddle, and had gone entirely
through. In a few minutes the poor beast dropped dead; he had given no
sign of injury until we came to a stop. A ball had struck the metal
scabbard of my sword, just below the hilt, and broken it nearly off;
before the battle was over it had broken off entirely. There were
three of us: one had lost a horse, killed; one a hat and one a
sword-scabbard. All were thankful that it was no worse.
After the rain of the night before and the frequent and heavy rains for
some days previous, the roads were almost impassable. The enemy
carrying his artillery and supply trains over them in his retreat, made
them still worse for troops following. I wanted to pursue, but had not
the heart to order the men who had fought desperately for two days,
lying in the mud and rain whenever not fighting, and I did (*8) not feel
disposed to positively order Buell, or any part of his command, to
pursue. Although the senior in rank at the time I had been so only a
few weeks.
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