'Fatal blunders': A soldier's letter about Battle of Thompson's Station

An aerial view of the battlefield and a postwar railroad station. Midwestern troops
 — the 85th and 33rd Indiana— retreated from right to left. 

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On March 6, 1863, from a camp at Franklin, Tennessee, a soldier in the 22nd Wisconsin wrote about the disastrous defeat suffered by the U.S. Army the day before.

Along the wooded ridges and cedar-crowned hills at Thompson’s Station — ground many Middle Tennesseans now drive past without a second thought — his brigade had been surrounded and forced to surrender. What began as a reconnaissance south on the Franklin Pike ended in one of the sharpest U.S. Army defeats in Middle Tennessee.

His letter captures the terrors of combat — the “shrill scream of a flying ball,” the “demoniac sound” of rifled shells — and defends the courage of men who believed they had been sent into a trap.

Here are excerpts from that nearly 3,000-word account, published in The Racine (Wis.) Advocate on March 25, 1863 — the same day most of the 22nd Wisconsin became captives of Nathan Bedford Forrest at Brentwood, Tennessee. (See my video on that battle.) (The unknown letter writer, who avoided capture at Thompson's Station, may have been among them.)

"There are many personal incidents of the fight worthy of record," wrote the soldier from Company A about Thompson's Station, "but I fear my communication is already too long for your columns and must close."

'Another of those fatal blunders'

A cropped enlargement of an American Battlefield Trust map of Thompson's Station battle
shows the position of the 22nd Wisconsin near the Columbia Pike. (See the full map.)

It is my painful task to inform you of the details of one of the most terrible defeats ever sustained by any portion of the National army in the war. The 22d [Wisconsin] has made for itself a history — a glorious history — but that history has well-nigh ended where it began. Another of those fatal blunders of sending out a small force against an enemy ten times their number, for which this war is famous, has been perpetrated, and as fine a brigade as Gen. [William] Rosecrans’ army can boast has been utterly annihilated.

'Screaming missiles'

An aerial view of the battlefield.

The country here consists of a series of parallel ranges of hills, crossing transversely to the pike and covered, except in the cleared fields, with heavy timber, thus preventing the movements of the enemy to be seen for but a short distance ahead.

As we approached Thompson station, 9 miles from Franklin and 4 miles from Spring Hill, the firing by the skirmishers became rapid, and soon their cheers indicated that they had gained an advantage. On hearing this we advanced at a quick step and soon discovered that they had gained the top of a high hill crowned with cedars, and had there halted. 

On the right of this hill was another one of equal height, and between the two the turnpike and railroad crossed each other, while at their southern base was the little village of Thompson [Station]. The reserve cavalry with Col. [John] Coburn, his staff, and body guard, had just reached the R. R. crossing between the two hills when we were suddenly surprised by the report of cannon from the vicinity of the station, which caused a precipitate retreat of the cavalry from their dangerous proximity, and immediately thereafter another of the screaming missiles passed along close to the right of our ranks, causing the boys involuntarily to crouch to the earth to avoid their unwelcome visitor. 

'Leaden messengers about our ears'

The armies exchanged fire along the railroad track.

The boys would dodge as much for the shells from our own battery for those from the rebels, for I never heard a more demoniac sound than that made by a shell from a rifled gun. Soon, far to the left, a long line of rebel cavalry could be seen passing directly toward our rear, with the evident intention of outflanking us and capturing our train, while at the same time their battery could be seen taking a new position farther to the left, where nothing could prevent their raking the whole length of our regimental line.

Just here, too, the battery, by some unexplained want of precaution, ran out of ammunition, and were obliged to leave their position, when the alarm was given that a body of infantry were coming around the hill to outflank us. We were quickly moved out of our position and formed another line at right angles with our previous one, and just under the brow of the hill on which the battery had been, where, as the rebel battery had again opened, we were ordered to lie down.

Battle relics may be seen at Homestead Manor,
used as a hospital during and after the battle.

The design of that fire we soon saw, however, was to shell the pike, probably to prevent our retreat, though one shell exploded directly in front of Co. A, too far off, however, to do any damage. We had lain there but a few minutes when a rebel regiment appeared among the cedars on the opposite hill, and then the 22d fired its first volley at its country's enemies, and those who were in a position to see the rebel line say that it was a most effective one.

And the rebels were by no means idle, for whiz! zip! spud! came the little leaden missiles above one's ears, making music of a different character, but no more agreeable than the howling shells. But no one appeared too excited for perfect control of himself; the boys would run up to the top of the hill, take deliberate aim at the smoke among the cedars, (for no rebels were openly visible,) fire, and then return to the line to reload.

But not long could we remain here. The party which had attempted to flank us were now making for the pike to cut off the whole brigade, and we were ordered to fall back from our exposed position. The ranks being so broken by the boys selecting good positions for shooting, that the movement down the hill was accomplished in some confusion, but the line was reformed in perfect order behind the railroad bank at the foot, the right resting at the crossing of the railroad and pike.

'Fought like heroes'

Both armies used the railroad embankments for cover.

The 33d Ind. is Col. Coburn's own regiment and has been in service eighteen months, having been a part of Morgan's Cumberland Gap army. They were led by Col. Coburn himself in a charge on the rebel battery on the right of the station before the attack was made on our regiment. They had advanced nearly to the battery when a large body of infantry, whose presence they had not previously suspected, rose from behind a stone fence and poured a volley directly into their faces. 

They were compelled to retreat over a long stretch of low, wet land, exposed to the deadly fire of the enemy, and were, of course, terribly cut up, but formed their lines and fought like heroes, only surrendering when their cartridge boxes were empty. 

The whole Brigade fought gallantly, but they had been drawn into well laid trap, [Confederate Gen. Earl] Van Dorn's vastly superior numbers prevailed against the most obstinate bravery, and they were obliged to surrender as prisoners of war. 

Battlefield historical marker on Columbia Pike at Thompson's Station, Tennessee.

Lt. Col. [Edward] Bloodgood was the coolest man I saw upon the field; dressed in full uniform, his tall, commanding form was a conspicuous mark for rebel bullets, but he kept his seat upon his horse and gave orders with all the precision and coolness of a battalion drill. It seems almost a miracle that he was not struck as he rode down the pike in that tempest of bullets. ....

Our brave commander, Col. Coburn, is also a prisoner, and the country is thus deprived of the services of one of her noblest and best men. Whatever may be the opinion of others, such is the confidence that Col. Coburn's men have in his caution and skill as a General, that no news can be more welcome to us than to hear that he will again be our commander. 

The author of the disaster is undoubtedly Gen. [Charles] Gilbert, the commander at Franklin, who sent out so small a force against one he knew to be superior, and then refused to reinforce it. I learn that this miscreant has been placed under arrest, and if the facts are as reported, hanging is too good for him.

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Postscript: The defeat was an embarrassing setback for Union forces operating south of Nashville and reflected poorly on Gilbert's command. He received no further significant field command.

My adventure to graveyard where a Confederate heroine rests

We suspect this is the grave of Alice Thompson in Dungan Cemetery in Thompson's Station, Tenn. (CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

Using my backwoods instincts honed by decades of easy living in the suburbs, I hacked through brambles, deftly eluded stumps, and climbed over fallen tree limbs to find the ancient cemetery where Alice Thompson rests in Thompson’s Station, Tenn. (The GPS of my new friend Bob, who accompanied me, helped a little, too. 😀)

Initially flummoxed by barbed-wire fences, we found a gap and exploited it to the max, making our way to a flat patch deep in the woods. Under a canopy of black walnut and cedar trees in Dungan Cemetery, we discovered the gravestone of two of Alice’s four children, Elijah and Mary, who died in 1867. 

That's me at the grave of Alice's children.

Nearby, steps from an old screw-top beer bottle, we found the gravestone under which we suspect Alice's remains rest. She died at 23 in 1870 of an unknown cause.

On March 5, 1863, as the Battle of Thompson’s Station raged around her, Alice found refuge in the cramped basement of the Homestead Manor plantation mansion astride Columbia Pike.  Not quite 17, Thompson—daughter of a physician for whom the town was named—peered from a window while cannons boomed and the muskets of grim-faced soldiers belched volleys of lead.

When a wounded 3rd Arkansas Cavalry color-bearer collapsed a few feet away, Thompson rushed from the basement and grabbed the soldier’s flag, waving it over her head.

" “Boys,” shouted a colonel, “a woman has your flag!"

An artillery shell landed near her, spraying Thompson with dirt, but it failed to explode. Then a Rebel soldier escorted the energized teen back into the basement, where she rejoined family members of the owner, his slaves, and neighbors.

Her 15 seconds of battlefield glory were over.

Bob Ireland with the gravestone for two of Alice Thompson's children, Elijah and Mary.

Gravestone of two of of Alice’s young children, Elijah and Mary. They died in 1867.
 Alice died in 1870 at 23.

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'Secrets' of a Tennessee battlefield: Let's go find The Rock!

A walk along the railroad track at Thompson’s Station, Tenn., where two 19th Michigan soldiers — brothers Judson and Pasqua Austin — fired at the Rebs from “a projecting rock” on March 5, 1863. Check out my re-launched Civil War channel (mostly) on YouTube. Also: Slava Urkaini!

Battle of Thompson's Station virtual tour here.

All about Roderick, KIA horse of 'The Wizard of the Saddle'

In 2008, Thompson's Station dedicated a statue to Roderick on the battlefield.

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On March 5, 1956, the Nashville Banner devoted a full page (below) to a poem about Roderick, the favorite mount of Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest, the notorious slave trader (see below), reputed cavalry genius, and post-war KKK member. At the Battle of Thompson’s Station (Tenn.) on March 5, 1863, Roderick, a chestnut gelding, was killed. Forrest, "The Wizard of the Saddle," is said to have wept over his beloved horse. 

"The Wizard"

Now I’m no poetry expert, but “The General’s Mount” has several cringeworthy stanzas such as this:

“From mouths and nostrils
Sponged his wounds
Applied a stinging ointment
They washed his knees
And hocks And pasterns
It’s Roderick!
The General’s mount!
Bring the water bucket to him”

To this day, Roderick lives on in the imaginations of a few historians, horse lovers, and strange people like me. In 2008, Thompson’s Station dedicated a statue of Roderick on the ground where Forrest’s soldiers formed for their attack. Let’s just say the sculptor took a few liberties — hey, that statue is not a gelding!

In 2009, Thompson’s Station awarded the Roderick Award of Courage to a girl who performed the Heimlich maneuver to save her grandma from choking to death on a piece of chicken. But the town discontinued the award after only one honoree.

Let's keep history alive. 😆

An ad for Forrest's slave trading business in the Memphis Daily Appeal on Nov. 29, 1859.

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In their own words: A Thompson's Station battlefield tour

Aaron Sanders holds an enlargement of a photograph of Alice Thompson, who rushed from this
Homestead Manor mansion basement to grab a battle flag and rally Confederate troops.
Sanders manages operations on the property for Hope Unlimited. (CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

On the morning of March 5, 1863, as the Battle of Thompson’s Station raged around her, Alice Thompson found refuge in the cramped basement of the Homestead Manor plantation mansion along Columbia Pike. Not quite 17, Thompson — daughter of a physician for whom the Tennessee town was named — peered from a window while cannons boomed and the muskets of grim-faced soldiers belched volleys of lead. 

Homestead Manor served as a battlefield hospital.

When a wounded 3rd Arkansas Cavalry color-bearer collapsed a few feet away, Thompson rushed from the basement and grabbed the soldier’s flag, waving it over her head. "Boys,” shouted a colonel, “a woman has your flag!" An artillery shell landed near her, spraying Thompson with dirt, but it failed to explode. Then a Rebel escorted the energized teen back into the basement to rejoin family members of the owner, his slaves, and neighbors. 

For decades, Thompson’s Station —roughly 30 miles south of Nashville — was a sleepy town along the Nashville & Decatur Railroad line. Now it’s a booming suburb near the Interstate 65 corridor. Developers have claimed much of the battlefield where roughly 6,000 Confederates under Major General Earl Van Dorn overwhelmed a brigade of 3,000 Union soldiers commanded by John Coburn. But Homestead Manor, where Thompson earned 15 seconds of battlefield glory, remains standing. It's now a church/coffee shop/community center. Pockets of the battlefield remain, too.

Accompanied by photos I recently shot at Thompson's Station, here are battle accounts from Colonel Coburn and 19th Michigan Private Judson Austin. He went into the fight with his brother, Pasqua, whom he called "Pack." Nathan Bedford Forrest's cavalry did the heavy lifting, nearly surrounding the  U.S. Army. More than 1,000 Union soldiers went into captivity. The Confederates suffered 357 killed.

Astride the Columbia Pike, Homestead Manor was the epicenter of the battle--a resounding Confederate victory on March 5, 1863.  (DOWNLOAD complete battle map from American Battlefield Trust.)

(A) The modern railroad track follows the wartime line toward Thompson's Station. 

"On passing through the gap, the railroad turns from the general direction of the turnpike to the right and west (A). The station is situated about the middle of the field, and some 300 yards west of the turnpike; a small stream flows by it to the west. Beyond the station and field is an extensive wood on each side of the road. The ground ascends as you approach it, and continues to ascend as you enter it, broken into irregular knolls. Here the enemy lay." 
— Colonel John Coburn

(B) View of gunners of gunners manning two 18th Ohio Artillery cannons on west side of Columbia Pike.

"As our force approached the gap, the head of the column being in it, the enemy discharged a piece of artillery stationed in the wood on the west of the road, raking it along our line. It failed of effect. The enemy's skirmishers had occupied the ridge on either side, but had been dislodged by the dismounted cavalry, and driven across the field to the station, where, for a time, they rallied, but soon retired before the skirmishers of the Thirty-third Indiana, and under the shells of our bravery, which had been brought up and stationed — two pieces to the right of the road (B) and three on the east on the ridge — there, about 50 feet above the valley and fields in front. Here they commanded the road, the fields, and the woods, to the front, right, and left, for a considerable distance."

 — Colonel John Coburn

  (C) GOOGLE STREET VIEW: The 19th Michigan and 22nd Wisconsin deployed at right.

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"The Thirty-third and Eighty-fifth Indiana were stationed on the right, and the Twenty-second Wisconsin and Nineteenth Michigan on the left and upon the ridge (C), near the three guns of the battery. Some companies of unmounted cavalry occupied a cedar-crowned knoll to the left of the Nineteenth Michigan. In its rear the main part of the cavalry were stationed." 
— Colonel John Coburn

(D) Position of some of  John Coburn's supply wagons on the Columbia Pike.

In the rear, a third of a mile, was the train (D), under guard of the One hundred and twenty-fourth Ohio. Such being the disposition of the forces, a demonstration was made by our cavalry on our extreme left, and the Thirty-third and Eighty-fifth Indiana were advanced to the station, with directions to charge the battery on the right of the road, if practicable." — Colonel John Coburn 

(E) Captain Samuel Freeman's Confederate artillery fired against advancing U.S. Army soldiers
from this hill on the east side of Columbia Pike.

The Twenty-second Wisconsin, the Nineteenth Michigan, the battery, and most of the cavalry were held in reserve. Our artillery, soon after being stationed, began firing, which was responded to by guns stationed at two points. (E) The firing was kept up with great vigor during the advance to the depot, our column moving forward under a constant fire of shell and canister, as well as musketry, from a brigade posted behind a bank and stone fence beyond."

 

(F) The 85th and 33rd Indiana withdrew from the depot toward the hill in background.

(G) Both armies used the railroad embankment for cover. A replacement for the wartime
 Thompson's Station depot appears at the extreme right.

"The loss was slight, and the troops moved forward in separate columns regularly and steadily to the depot. As this force advanced, a large number of the enemy arose from their cover on their extreme left and rallied to the battery beyond the depot. At this moment I was informed that a force of 1,000 or more cavalry had been discovered advancing on our left, a mile distant, in the neighborhood of the Lewisburg road. I immediately ordered the regiment to withdraw (F) from the depot (G), intending at once to retreat, being convinced that we were in the neighborhood of an overwhelming force."

 — Colonel John Coburn

(H) Confederates fired on the Midwesterners from the ridge beyond this tree. Is it a "witness" tree?

"Our Boys hugged the ground for a short time when we wer ordered to fall in & march to the right. After marching a short distance we halted faced by the rear wrank. Not more than a breath or so from that time we wer fired into by the rebs who wer secreted from our sight by a thick growth of small cedar trees (H). All our boys could see was the smoak from their guns. However we gave them a charge in return then moving a few paces to the front we curled down behind a stone fence. Here the lead flew from our guns like hail for a short time when we wer ordered to march to the rear & right that we mint not be flanked." — Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan

(I) Confederates advancing north on this railroad track fired at the 19th Michigan.

"At this spot is whar we saw our bold Cap. E.B. Basset the last time. (Note: Elisha Bassett lost his nerve and deserted his company.) He stood behind a large beech tree looking right smart in all directions. Have any seen him he is mine where ever he be. Our Reg marched on until we came to the railroad track (I) whare we wer again fired upon."
 — Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan

(J) Judson and Pasqua Austin of the 19th Michigan fired at pursuing Rebels in the distance.
 The "projecting rock" Judson described is believed to be at right.

"Unloading our muskets on them they wer silenced for a few minutes & all disappeared behind the hill except one or two who wer straight down the track hid partly behind a fence post. This wrascal fired up the grade at two or three that stood wating for the rest to get along out of the way. The ball passed close between Pack & myself taking a little bark of from two or three of my fingers on my right hand. We both steped back a step or too whare we wer on concealed behind the point of a projecting rock that hapened to stick out on the side of the grade (J) & unloaded our muskets at the butternut. Pack I think fired but once when he see the Reg. going on up the hill & started on the jump to over take the boys. I see the bullets kept coming from the fence post down the track & thinking myself safer behind the rock than any other place I could see I wated & kept on loading and fireing as fast as I knew how. I am Shure I fixed as many as one of the bloodhounds on that spot."
— Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan

(K) View from hill where Coburn's brigade ultimately surrendered.

"The fireings from that direction by this had ceased & I began to look about for my Reg. Looking to the rear I saw the rebs coming I should think by the thousand. Thinking myself in close quarters. I soon come to the most natural conclusion to scedadle. So I took a double quick up the hill (K) to join the Reg. Balls fell at my heels & about my legs like hail making the dry leaves & little sticks on the ground fairly rustle. I reached the top of the hill in safety. But instead of finding Co. B on the left as I expected I found they had countermarched & faced to the rear. They wer just over the brow of the hill all ready to step to the top so they mint fire on the enemy that were fast approaching on a solid charge." 

— Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan

(L) Confederates advanced across this ground.

"Here I fell into wranks & the Boys with an almost defning yell rushed to the top of the hill where we faced the enemy at a short distance. Firing our pieces with well directed aim their line was entirely broken & we wer ordered to retreat back to our former position loading as we went. After we wer far enough back to be safe behind the hill we wer ordered to lay down [so] the shells mint not injure more than was necessary of us. (L) After a short time orders came from the Col.: Forward"

— Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan

(M) Area believed to be where Pasqua Austin suffered a mortal wound.

 "After this we fought in a skirmishing kind of style; or more like bush whackers. We wer shooting in this way when Pack received the fatal shot. I saw him just before he was shot cralling up to a large oak tree. (M) I thought to myself he had got into a safe place & could pick off the butternuts at his ease. We had not fought in this shape long before they commenced flanking us on our left & placed a battery on our right. I kept on fireing as fast as possible turning my as often as I could get a chance to the tree whare I see Pack go. I could not see him thare but a steady volley of balls came a cross fire into us as they passed."

— Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan 

The Midwestern troops retreated across this ground.

"When I reached the Reg again they were just ready to throw down their arms & surrender ourselves up to the enamy. This being done we formed in lin faced to the right & marched 17 miles at night to a town called Columbia. Arriving here about 12 oclock at night we had the privilege of marching into the courthouse & sleeping on the floor."

— Private Judson Austin, 19th Michigan 

"I was convinced that a massacre would ensue to little purpose; that a few might escape, but that many would fall in a vain struggle for life with unequal weapons. I ordered a surrender. I believed it was justified by the circumstances."

 — Colonel John Coburn

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POSTSCRIPT

Coburn

Judson Austin was paroled after a brief imprisonment at Libby Prison in Richmond. He survived the war and died in 1924.

John Coburn, who also survived the war, served in Congress and died in 1908.

Following the Battle of Thompson's Station, the remains of Union dead were buried on the field. Pasqua Austin's remains were later disinterred and reburied at Stones River National Cemetery in Murfreesboro, Tenn.

Alice Thompson married a Confederate surgeon and died of yellow fever in 1870. She was barely 23. Thompson was buried in Dungan Cemetery, across Columbia Pike from Homestead Manor. 

WANTED: Photographs of Judson or Pasqua Austin.

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SOURCES:

• Confederate Veteran, June 1900, Vol. 8, No. 6
• Judson L. Austin Papers 1862-1865, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan
• The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Serial 34, Page 105, Chapter XXXV

Serving up a tray of battlefield relics at Thompson's Station

Would you like a tray of relics with your coffee? Aaron Sanders of Homestead Manor
shows artifacts from the Battle of Thompson's Station. (CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

A close-up of the cannon ball and battlefield artifacts.

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During a recent visit to Homestead Manor, Aaron Sanders — who manages operations on the property for Hope Unlimited — showed me a tray of battlefield relics. The early 19th-century HM residence turned church/coffee shop/community center stands in Thompson's Station (Tenn.) astride the Columbia Turnpike—that's State Route 31 for those of you who live in the 21st century.

The star of Sanders' relic show was a solid shot — I think it's a 12-pounder, but I am no ordnance expert and never was good at those “Guess My Weight” games at carnivals. The cannon ball, which crashed through the house during the battle, was used for decades as a doorstop by mansion owners. The wartime owner was a Confederate officer named Thomas Banks (no relation).   

The 159th anniversary of battle is March 5.

Homestead Manor served as a hospital at Battle of Thompson's Station.

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Spirited: Church, whiskey, bourbon, gin and a little Civil War

Kim Peterson, tour experience manager at H Clark Distillery, stands next to a tub of "spent grain." 
The distillery gives the waste product from the production of spirits to a farmer, 
who feeds the slop to his cows.  It makes the animals happy. (CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

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Channeling my inner demon, I rush from a church service to a distillery in Thompson’s Station, Tenn., on Sunday morning. Somewhere David Allan Coe is smiling and thinking, “Damn, there’s a mighty good country music song there. All we need is a train, a pickup truck and a prison.”

Barrels of spirits in "The Shop," nerve center
of the distillery in Thompson's Station, Tenn.

My aim is to meet  H Clark Distillery owner/founder Heath Clark, an attorney, I’m told, with an above-average Civil War IQ. The 1863 Battle of Thompson’s Station was fought near the 100-year old granary where his team produces fine Tennessee bourbon, whiskey and dry gin. Clark's law office is in a small room in the four-year-old distillery, perhaps making him unique among legal practitioners in the United States. A family obligation prevents Heath from connecting with me, but I don’t leave his distillery disappointed.

Enter Kim Peterson, H. Clark's tour experience manager and a woman who obviously loves her job. “I have a blast here,” she tells me minutes into our visit.

A former hairdresser and special education teacher, Kim oozes charm and knowledge about the whiskey/bourbon/gin-making process. Ever-smiling, the 56-year-old Michigan native and Central Michigan women’s basketball fan eagerly gives me a tour.

A micro-batch distillery, H Clark focuses on quality over quantity. It produces one 53-gallon barrel of bourbon a week and a similar amount of whiskey and gin. By contrast, Jack Daniel’s distillery in Lynchburg, Tenn., produces thousands of barrels in the same timeframe.

The H. Clark Distillery is in a former granary in Thompson's Station, Tenn., where a Civil War battle
was fought on March 5, 1863.

The magic at H. Clark is created in “The Shop,” a room about twice the size of an average living room. As Kim and I enter the nerve center, the sweet (and tremendous) aroma of mash is apparent. She lifts the large lid on a vat of the mighty mixture of grains and water -- its creation is one of the early steps in the making of fine spirits. Tempted to dip my face into the thick, oatmeal-like mass, I instead place my nose as close as I can, careful that sunglasses tucked into my shirt don’t drop into the ooze.

"Doesn’t that smell great?” she says. Mmmmm, good.

Behind the red door, Tennessee
bourbon, whiskey and dry gin are made.

As I take notes on my church bulletin, wary of a lightning strike as I write, Kim talks in detail about the process of creating fine spirits. Think of it as symphony -- all steps must be in perfect harmony.

In The Shop, barrels of bourbon sit next to bags of corn and other grain, the key ingredients. Perhaps the most important piece of equipment  in the room is the large copper still, made in Portugal. The product is hand-bottled on the opposite side of "The Shop," a few steps away.

Near a long wall, a massive tub of brown liquid — spent grain, it’s called — sits. A local farmer takes this waste product from the alcohol-making process and feeds it to his cows, a pleasing feast for the animals.

“The cows love our bourbon mash,” Peterson says. “They come running for it. Then they just lay in the field, chilling.” She wants to shoot video of the cows enjoying the mostly alcohol-free slop someday. I take her word for it.

Of course, no visit to a distillery is complete without sampling the goods. As I sit in metal chair at the bar in the tasting room, a small sign on the mantle, near a broken Civil War bayonet, catches my eye: “Alcohol. Because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad.”

Tremendous.

Peterson pours me two snorts of bourbon and one each of whiskey and dry gin. I sniff each, then savor the greatness. Clark’s best bourbon — bottled in bond and aged a minimum of four years — costs 100 bucks a bottle.

Euphoric, I say goodbye to Kim and step out into the sunshine. At the old railroad station across the road, I immediately see a bright red caboose.

Dang, David, about that song...

H Clark Distillery's copper still, made in Portugal. 

The final products. 

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