The period of Garfield’s active service in the army was a little over two years; yet in that short time he rose from lieutenant-colonel to major-general, and performed some deeds of valour that will never be forgotten. Within three months of raising his regiment, he was prepared to take the field, and the sphere of his operations was the State of Kentucky.

This large and important State, which lay on the borders of the slave-holding districts, was by no means unanimous in favour of the Union. General Marshall, with an army of 5000 Confederates, had taken up a position in Eastern Kentucky; and Garfield, having reported himself to General Buell at Louisville, was ordered to march against the invaders. It was at Middle Creek where the two small opposing armies met Garfield’s forces numbered, all told, about 2600; the Confederates were nearly double. Garfield found the enemy posted on the double crest of a low hill, and he at once commenced his attack.

The charge was led by the hundred Hiram students, who were ordered to cross the stream and climb the opposite ridge, the intention being to draw the enemy out of their ambuscade. But the slope of the hill was swept with rebel bullets, and the Hiram boys had to seek shelter among the trees.

While the young men held their position in the timber, a support of 500 men came up, and the little brigade faced nearly 4000 muskets. Then Colonel Moore and his loyal Kentuckians volunteered to carry the hill. Standing on a rock in full sight of his men, and a conspicuous mark for the Confederates’ rifles, Garfield directed the fight. For a while it seemed doubtful on which side victory should fall, until through the trees the commander caught sight of a glancing banner, and with a shout he announced that reinforcements had arrived. The enemy had seen it also, and at once began a retreat, which soon became a scamper.

For this brilliant little victory, the first that had fallen to the Federal arms, Garfield was made a brigadier-general. He was now thirty-one years of age, and had served in the army about four months.

Garfield’s force in Eastern Kentucky held the field, but they held it starving. Their provisions were done, the roads were impassable, the people unfriendly, and the river swollen and dangerous. But Garfield’s early experience as a canal boy now stood him in good stead. Among his troops was his old companion and humble friend of the towpath, Harry S. Brown, the poor fellow who, in spite of a good heart and shrewd sense, had been so long the unhappy victim of intemperance. But the man adored his young officer, and now, at a critical moment in Garfield’s career, Brown was able to render him and the good cause an important service.

The army was encamped near the scene of its victory. Close by was the Big Sandy river, a deep and rapid and swollen stream. No local boatman would venture down the torrent at such a time. And yet that was the sole direction from which the little army might expect supplies.

Garfield sent for Harry Brown, who had been acting as scout. The two sprang into a skiff, and succeeded in descending the river. At Catletsburg, on the mouth of the Big Sandy, they found a little old-fashioned steamer belonging to a Confederate, and of this vessel they took possession. The steamer was loaded with provisions, and Garfield assumed command. It was in vain that the rebel captain protested, and explained the terrors of the passage. He had to do with a man whose spirit of duty completely lifted him above the sense of fear.

For two days and nights Garfield stood at the helm of the vessel, and battled with the swollen torrent. More than once they were aground, but the resolute management of Garfield and the unflinching obedience of Harry the scout surmounted every difficulty, and at length the little steamer came puffing in sight of the almost despairing camp.

The men were beside themselves with joy; they shouted and sang and danced, and declared that with such a leader there was no danger they would not face.

But it was at the battle of Chickamauga that Garfield’s most daring feat was performed. In the early part of 1863 he was made chief of the staff to General Rosecrans, and in this capacity organised his famous corps of scouts. The summer and autumn were spent in opposing General Bragg, one of the ablest of the Southern commanders. On the 19th and 20th of September the battle of Chickamauga was fought. The right division of the army, under the immediate direction of Rosecrans, was cut in two by Bragg. As the Federals began their retreat, Garfield, who chafed bitterly under this repulse, begged permission to ride back to the second column of the army, which was under the command of General Thomas. He hoped to reach this division, and encourage the general to continue the battle until Rosecrans could collect his broken forces and entrench himself in Chattanooga.

Great as was the need, Rosecrans hesitated before allowing Garfield to run the risk of such a ride. At length he reluctantly consented. Grasping Garfield’s hand, his chief said, “We may not meet again. Good-bye; God bless you.” And, with this kindly farewell in his ears, the young brigadier-general rode away.

With three companions for guides, he made for the tangled forest. Then they trotted past Rossville. Here, as they swept along the narrow road, a thousand rifles opened fire upon them, and two of the little party fell. They had ridden into a body of Confederate skirmishers who were hanging upon the flank of Thomas’s army.

Garfield put his horse to the fence and leaped into a cottonfield. The hedge on the other side of the field was lined with muskets. Garfield rode a zig-zag course across the field, and so prevented the enemy from taking aim. His course slanted upwards, and he knew that if he could but gain the top of the hill, he would be out of range of the rebel rifles. Twice a volley was fired, and the second time his horse received a nasty flesh wound; but still Garfield was uninjured. His good horse, though losing blood fast, kept on. He had reached the crest of the hill just as the second volley of bullets whizzed past him, and the next moment he was safe. A party of Thomas’s troops rode out to meet him, they dashed down the hill together, and in a few more minutes Garfield’s horse dropped dead at the feet of General Thomas.

But the object of his ride was accomplished. Thomas held out long enough to enable Rosecrans to strengthen himself and occupy Chattanooga, and the army was saved. The stand which General Thomas made at Chickamauga was said to be the most brilliant defence of the whole war, and the ride of Garfield the most heroic deed. For this exploit he was raised to the rank of major-general.