the Cross-roads. There was little hope of accomplishing the objects of
the expedition, but the trap could, at least, be sprung, and there was a
chance of surprising the ambuscade. My men were armed with shot-guns and
pistols, the proper weapons for such an affair. I ordered them to follow
me in single-file in the direction of the enemy, instructing them to
hold their fire until we were challenged, and to then discharge their
weapons, and, without stopping to reload, make their way back to the
horses. The moon had just gone down as we began to move slowly down the
road. We made little noise, and were soon convinced by a chorus of
coughing, which broke on our ears as we neared them, that a pretty good
crowd was before us. When we had almost reached the point where the
roads cross, a Sergeant, with five or six men at his back, sprang up, so
near to us that I could have touched him by making another step, and
ordered "halt," in a low voice, evidently taking us for friends. Our
answer was a shot, and he fell dead. His comrades returned our fire, and
at once a line of men rose from the fence corners on the opposite side
of the road which we had just descended--we had passed them unseen in
the darkness. Many of them must have been asleep until alarmed by the
firing. The bulk of the force, however, was stationed upon the other
road, and, as they sprang up at the sudden uproar, and aimed at the
blaze of the guns, they endangered their own friends more than us. My
men sank at once upon their knees, and the enemy firing wildly and high,
did not touch one of them. They pointed their shot-guns low, and every
flash was followed by a groan, and, by the quick vivid light, we could
see the men we hit writhing on the ground. The curses and commands of
the officers, shouts of the combatants, and yells of the wounded were
mingled together. The breadth of the road, only, separated us, and the
blaze from the guns met. When our weapons were emptied, we sprang over
the fence and ran at top speed for our horses. A chain picket which had
been posted on the left of the Shelbyville road, a short distance from
it, rushed forward and opened upon us, and the enemy we had just bidden
farewell redoubled his fire. When we regained the horses, we were nearly
surrounded. Parties had come out from the woods behind us, as we passed
down the road, and our retreat by the way we had come was blocked. Our
signals to call in the laggards, as we prepared to leave,