About midnight General Hood’s division came down from the heights of Lookout and quietly surrounded General Greene’s small force, and at once commenced an attack. Greene’s men, aroused from their slumber, hastily formed line under a most deadly fire from all sides, and one of the most desperate struggles on record ensued. We were awakened by the sound of the distant combat, and forming into line hastily advanced to their rescue. When we arrived Hood’s rebels had been routed and were flying in all directions, intent only on reaching their mountain stronghold. There was a regular stampede of the mules, which had broken loose and were braying furiously. This, with loud shouts from our men, must have induced a belief in the valorous rebel horde that a large force of cavalry was charging down upon them, and their fears and flight was indeed a grand burlesque finale to a terrible tragedy. General Greene had lost one-third of his force, killed and wounded, his ammunition was exhausted, and ordering the mules cut loose, he made a desperate bayonet charge to cut his way to freedom. The mules providentially moved in the same direction, mingling the thunder of their tread and their awful voices with the shouts of Greene’s men, and our own, to let them know that assistance was coming. The effect was to throw Hood’s rebel army into a wild panic and put them to rout. Three hundred prisoners and about one thousand stand of arms were captured. Every man of Knapp’s battery, save one only, was either killed or wounded. Among the former was Lieutenant Geary, son of General John W. Geary. The ground was covered with the dead and injured of both the blue and the gray. 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.