Those who were present will admit that Capt. Hayden's account of the 9th at Franklin is but a conservative statement of the facts. On the day after the fight, while we were all feeling very well satisfied with ourselves and the part the regiment had taken in the affair, I wrote a letter to the Cincinnati Commercial, which was published in its issue of December 29, 1864. I think it sufficiently pertinent to justify the insertion of the greater part of it.

D. W. C.

Camp of the 9th Indiana Cavalry,
Near Franklin, Tennessee, December 18, 1864.

It is a lamentable fact, that, for some reason as yet ungiven, the cavalry arm of our service has not, until quite recently, been distinguished for any special efficiency. Its connection, however, with the late brilliant victories in the Shenandoah Valley, have won for it at least the respect of the country, and caused the withdrawal of Major General Hooker's standing offer of twenty dollars for a dead cavalryman of the Potomac Army. In the West this branch of the army, as your readers are aware, has been organized into the corps of the Military Division of the Mississippi, under command of Brevet Major General Wilson, whose dash and splendid abilities, while eminently fitting him for the responsible position he holds, have fully warranted his promotion from Lieutenant Colonel to his present rank. The late complete successes of his command are evinced in those sure and substantial evidences of victory—prisoners, battle-flags and guns; and in this department no corps can show more of them than the cavalry.

While all the troops in this command have behaved with credit to themselves and honor to the cause in which they fight, for pluck, coolness and promptness in the hour that tests men's courage, among all the regiments taking part in the late move in front of Nashville, the 9th Indiana Cavalry of brigadier General Hammond's brigade, is worthy of special and honorable mention, and, particularly, its splendid charge upon the works and forces of the enemy at Franklin yesterday—an exploit unsurpassed by anything written of the war, and compared to which in point of success, Major Zagonyi's celebrated charge at Springfield, which created such a sensation at the beginning of the war, and interested the principal artists of the country in the face of a homely but ordinary man, becomes tame and unimportant. Some five hundred yards, over undulating grounds, made miry by recent rains, from the advance, (9th Indiana Cavalry, Colonel George W. Jackson commanding), of Hammond's brigade, and upon the north side of Big Harpeth river was a section of a battery, supported by two regiments of infantry, strongly entrenched behind abatis and rifle-pits; in front of them a regiment of cavalry drawn up to receive a charge. On the south side of the river four guns were so planted as to enfilade the road. Filing and forming to the right and left of the road, with a coolness, which seemed utterly regardless of the terrible accuracy with which the rebel guns were aimed, while their shells were mangling horses and their riders, the men seated themselves more firmly in their saddles, tightened the reins, and "looked on sky and tree and plain" as sights they might never see again. Led in person by Colonel Jackson, in a line which would have awakened the admiration of Old Hardee himself, the 9th, at a walk, advanced to victory—many of them, alas, to death. From a walk to a trot, from a trot to a gallop, the short distance of five hundred yards was soon traversed, and the Hoosier boys measured arms with the chivalry from Georgia, Alabama and Texas. Overwhelmed by the celerity and boldness of the movement, many of the enemy were sabered and captured before they had fairly entered into the spirit of the fight. Before the impetuous Jackson three men in gray fell in less time than it takes now to tell it. A little Sergeant from Company K, George Leslie, with no weapon but his sabre, took from their gun a Lieutenant and artilleryman.

To describe a real cavalry charge, however, where sabres are crossed and skulls are cleaved, as was the case at Franklin on the 17th inst., and do it justice, is impossible. One may tell how hundreds of well-drilled, well-mounted men, with clean blades, seen through the clear morning air, moving like machinery, is a sight not often seen, and a splendid embodiment or representation of power, and in the rush of a charge may liken it to the tornado, that must sweep the earth unless averted. This may be said, but a hundred instances of individual prowess must necessarily be overlooked. In fifteen minutes the field was won. Two stands of colors, two guns and 250 prisoners were the spoils of victory. The remainder of the enemy, in confusion, fled through Franklin, leaving it to be taken with near 2,000 of their wounded, without further fighting. This, with 400 men, for the other regiments, comprising the brigade, were not formed until the enemy had been driven across the river. Prisoners said the cavalry had never acted so before—that they were not even given time to fight, before they were whipped, and, even after surrendering, had difficulty in escaping the hoofs of the horses.

Rebel officers accounted for the desperate and determined fighting of our men, by saying they had been given whisky and gun-powder. The latter part of the statement was strictly true. A successful cavalry charge—the capture of stands of colors, guns and prisoners, is a new episode in the great rebellion. But the faithful historian in the annals of the heroes and heroic deeds of the war, and glowing tributes to the devotion of patriot soldiers, will find no theme more worthy the beauties of our Saxon tongue, than the charge of the 9th Indiana Cavalry at Franklin.