"The morning dawned with a dense fog, which held us in check for some time after we were ready to march. During our stay in Nashville, I was the guest of Major W. B. Lewis, through whose yard ran our line. He had been a warm personal friend of Andrew Jackson, occupying a place in the Treasury Department during his administration. He gave me the room formerly occupied by the hero of New Orleans, and entertained me with many anecdotes of him. I remember in particular one which I especially appreciated, because of the scarcity of fuel in our own camp. At one time General Jackson ordered certain troops to rendezvous for a few days at Nashville. Major Lewis, acting as Quartermaster, laid in a supply of several hundred cords of wood, which he supposed would be ample to last during their entire stay in the city. The troops arrived on a 'raw and gusty day,' and being accustomed to comfortable fires at home, they burned up every stick the first night, to the quartermaster's great consternation.
"To return: On the morning of December 15th, Major Lewis said he would have a servant bring me my breakfast, which was not ready, however, when I started. The boy, with an eye to safety, followed me afar off, so far that he only reached me, I think, about two o'clock in the afternoon. But I really believe the delay, improved the flavor of the breakfast.
"As soon as the fog lifted, the battle began in good earnest. Hood mistook my assault for an attack in force upon his right flank, and weakening his left in order to meet it, gave the coveted opportunity to Thomas, who improved it by assailing Hood's left flank, doubling it up, and capturing a large number of prisoners.
"Thus the first day's fight wore away. It had been for us a severe but glorious day. Over three hundred of my command had fallen, but everywhere our army was successful. Victory perched upon our banners. Hood had stubbornly resisted, but had been gallantly driven back with severe loss. The left had done its duty. General Steadman congratulated us, saying his only fear had been that we might fight too hard. We had done all he desired, and more. Colored soldiers had again fought side by side with white troops; they had mingled together in the charge; they had supported each other; they had assisted each other from the field when wounded, and they lay side by side in death. The survivors rejoiced together over a hard fought field, won by a common valor. All who witnessed their conduct, gave them equal praise. The day that we had longed to see had come and gone, and the sun went down upon a record of coolness, bravery, manliness, never to be unmade. A new chapter in the history of liberty had been written. It had been shown that, marching under a flag of freedom, animated by a love of liberty, even the slave becomes a man and a hero.
"At one time during the day, while the battle was in progress, I sat in an exposed place on a piece of ground sloping down toward the enemy, and being the only horseman on that part of the field, soon became a target for the balls that whistled and sang their threatening songs as they hurried by. At length a shot aimed at me struck my horse in the face, just above the nostril, and passing up under the skin emerged near the eye, doing the horse only temporary harm, and letting me off scot-free, much to my satisfaction, as may be supposed. Captain Baker, lying on the ground near by, heard the thud of the ball as it struck the horse, and seeing me suddenly dismount, cried out, 'the Colonel is shot,' and sprang to my side, glad enough to find that the poor horse's face had been a shield to save my life. I was sorry that the animal could not appreciate the gratitude I felt to it for my deliverance.
"During that night Hood withdrew his army some two miles, and took up a new line along the crest of some low hills, which he strongly fortified with some improvised breast works and abatis. Soon after our early breakfast, we moved forward over the intervening space. My position was still on the extreme left of our line, and I was especially charged to look well to our flank, to avoid surprise.
"The 2nd Colored Brigade, under Colonel Thompson, of the 12th U. S. C. I., was on my right, and participated in the first days' charge upon Overton's Hill, which was repulsed. I stood where the whole movement was in full view. It was a grand and terrible sight to see those men climb that hill over rocks and fallen trees, in the face of a murderous fire of cannon and musketry, only to be driven back. White and black mingled together in the charge, and on the retreat.
"When the 2nd Colored Brigade retired behind my lines to re-form, one of the regimental color-bearers stopped in the open space between the two armies, where, although exposed to a dangerous fire, he planted his flag firmly in the ground, and began deliberately and coolly to return the enemy's fire, and, greatly to our amusement, kept up for some little time his independent warfare.
"When the second and final assault was made, the right of my line took part. It was with breathless interest I watched that noble army climb the hill with a steady resolve which nothing but death itself could check. When at length the assaulting column sprang upon the earthworks, and the enemy seeing that further resistance was madness, gave way and began a precipitous retreat, our hearts swelled as only the hearts of soldiers can, and scarcely stopping to cheer or to await orders, we pushed forward and joined in the pursuit, until the darkness and the rain forced a halt.
"The battle of Nashville did not compare in numbers engaged, in severity of fighting, or in the losses sustained, with some other Western battles. But in the issues at stake, the magnificent generalship of Thomas, the completeness of our triumph, and the immediate and far-reaching consequences, it was unique, and deservedly ranks along with Gettysburg, as one of the decisive battles of the war.