While assisting the wounded and burying the dead, Generals Grant, Hooker, and Thomas, with their respective staffs, arrived from Chattanooga. The former coolly remarked as he surveyed the bloody scene: "Well, boys, you must have had a hot time of it, judging from appearances." There was silence among the men, who knew that an army was cosily reposing but four miles away, which could easily have averted the terrible bloodshed, but were so completely disheartened by the defeat at Chickamauga that they dare not venture from their stronghold to the relief of gallant "Corporal" Greene, who happily turned defeat into a heroic victory.
The following lines, composed by one of our command, fully relates the grand finale and
CHARGE OF THE MULE BRIGADE.
Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right towards the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
"Forward the Mule Brigade,
Charge for the rebs!" they neighed;
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
"Forward the Mule Brigade!"
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when the long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply;
Theirs not to reason why;
Theirs but to make them fly;
On to the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines,
Breaking through Longstreet's lines,
