The Thirty-sixth, Forty-fourth, and Seventy-third Illinois, and Twenty-fourth Wisconsin, and One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Ohio, five regiments, composing Opedycke's brigade, were instantly on their feet, anticipating orders, seizing their guns, which had been stacked on one line, made a simultaneous, irresistible rush to the front, carrying every thing before them at the point of the bayonet, capturing thirteen battle-flags, nearly one thousand prisoners, and restoring and strengthening our line, so that it was broken no more. Stung to desperation at this sudden turning of the scales in this important battle, the infuriated enemy charged, and CHARGED again and AGAIN, carrying his reckless resistance right up to, yes on to, our slight works, to the very muzzles of our guns. But we were there to stay, at least until getting ready to leave of our own accord; but it took work, HARD WORK, PERSISTENT, UNFLAGGING and UNFLINCHING WORK, to maintain our position. How it was done I can scarcely hope to describe.
On arriving at the point from whence our forces had been driven, there were too many troops to operate to advantage, and afford all a semblance of protection. Fortunately, the ground, beginning at the works, was gradually declining to the rear. Company C, with a few soldiers of other companies, was posted between, and to the front of, two pieces of artillery. All were either lying on the ground or in a low, stooping posture. Immediately at the works was a strong line of men, with barely elbow room, who did nothing but fire; in rear of this line were two or three tiers of men, who were busy loading pieces and passing them forward; to rear of these were still others, who were cleaning guns, breaking open boxes of ammunition, and distributing cartridges to the loaders; others still further back, carried up the boxes of ammunition from a point where left by ammunition wagons. There was work for all, and all WORKED. There was a full half hour of desperate fighting, perhaps equalled at some time and place, but scarcely ever, if ever, surpassed. For several fearful minutes, as a result of combined, sturdy, heroic effort on the part of all, from end to end of our line, the small arms volleyed; there was no determining of intervals between volleys; it was as one. The cannon thundered; the shell shrieked; the smoke rolled; the earth trembled; the heroic, reckless, desperate, enemy surged, and surged again and AGAIN, right up to our line, and recoiled as often, recoiling last, before the merciless tempest of death.
Darkness came on, and shrouded the scene; there was a lull in the fight; a great calm after a great storm. Many of our soldiers had been slain, but for each one, from three to five of the rebels had bitten the dust. Very many on both sides were wounded, the few mortally, the many slightly. Did those who had not finished dinner, now finish it? No. Was supper prepared? No. Was there time for coffee? Not much. The foe, threatening and defiant, was right there, within sixty feet, waiting to pounce upon us. Guns were put in order, ammunition in abundance was got ready at hand, and all precautions taken. Nor had we long to wait until the first night assault was made; right up to our works they charged, coming within space measured by the flashes from our rifles. But before our galling fire the enemy quailed and fell back. Our fire slackened some; but within an hour two or more assaults were made, with like result.
After the last assault we kept up a heavy fire for some minutes, until some person, some officer perhaps, between the lines, but nearest ours, yelled out: "Cease firing, cease firing;" repeating the command several times. Amid the smoke and darkness it could not be told who or what he was, whether Union or rebel. In a few minutes the firing did, in a great measure, cease; later it ceased almost entirely. At same time a burning building in the suburbs of Franklin fell in, making a great light, by which we saw several, as many as a dozen, standards raise along enemy's line. He was preparing, no doubt, for a last desperate effort to break our front. Brisk firing immediately opened from our side, increasing in volume and ceasing not until every battle-flag on enemy's front was laid low. This ended the contest; quiet succeeded; and by midnight our weary forces had withdrawn from the field; crossed the Harpeth, and were slowly wending their way to Nashville.
The loss to Seventy-third, in this battle, was nine killed and two wounded that died soon afterward; one of the former being Adjt. Wilmer, and one of the latter being Major Motherspaw; the loss to Company C being one killed, Zenas Fulton, and one wounded, Joseph A. Allison, who died in enemy's hands. There were three or four others of company wounded, including the writer; and there were several others of the regiment wounded; but nearly all of these were slight wounds, excepting that of Captain Jonas Jones, and one or two others. Some two or three years ago writer saw a statement from Gen. D. S. Stanley, who commanded the fourth corps, until wounded, in this battle; which statement, published in a Philadelphia paper, asserted that the fourth corps used ninety wagon loads of ammunition the afternoon and night of November 30, 1864. It is reasonable to suppose that much of this ammunition was destroyed; wasted in other ways than in "wild firing," the enemy's losses, all told, being about five thousand five hundred, or three times our own.
Col. Opedycke was breveted brigadier-general, and merited praise was bestowed in congratulatory orders, for the part borne by his brigade in the battle of Franklin. Any other brigade that was there would probably have done as well, under the same circumstances; but as three-fifths of the brigade were Illinoisians we take a pardonable pride in making this imperfect record of its most conspicuous achievement.
Arrived at Nashville at one o'clock, P. M., December 1, 1864. We were a very tired, sorely-taxed, and dirty lot of soldiers. Sleep was imperatively demanded; and most of us, as soon as halted, or assigned camping space, dropped on the ground and slept until sunset; by which time Capt. Kyger had found us, and was anxiously ascertaining how we had fared. Hood followed up immediately, taking position in our front; and on December 3d, James Ashmore, of Company C, a faithful soldier, was shot dead while standing picket. His body was buried in the cemetery at Nashville. This was the last loss which befell Company C, except in case of two or three members who were mustered out a few days in advance of the regiment at hospitals, and one recruit—Wm. R. Cook—transferred to the Forty-fourth Illinois. About this time we received notification of the death of three members of the company in Andersonville prison, as before noted, viz.: Brown, Ellis, and Thornton, with whom the writer had spent three months as a prisoner. How fortunate had we been, not only in escaping prison, but in passing comparatively unharmed through twelve battles, since separating from prison comrades, and standing now upon the threshold of the thirteenth, destined to pass safely through that. Fortunate indeed we were, and thankful, very thankful we are, and ought to be.
On December 15th and 16th, 1864, occurred the battles of Nashville, in which command performed the part assigned it both days; in the afternoon of the 16th joining in the grand, majestic charge, which was the finishing stroke to the rebellion in the west. Casualties to Company C, none to speak of, and to regiment very few, only one man killed, and probably a dozen wounded. Enemy hugged his works so closely that his fire passed above our heads. On our reaching the works, those of the enemy who did not surrender fled with precipitated haste. With utmost enthusiasm our troops pursued the flying enemy, until darkness closed the race. Started early on the 17th, but our cavalry took the job off our hands, pursuing Hood so closely that he crossed the Tennessee River, with only a few shattered and broken fragments of his late offensive army. We followed to Pulaski, Tenn., at which point, a day or two before Christmas, we heard, for the last time, the whiz of an enemy's bullet.
Leaving Pulaski we took up our line of march for Huntsville, Ala., arriving January 5, 1865. Here we remained until March 28th; then going by rail to Blue Springs, East Tennessee. While at Blue Springs the war closed; Lee and Johnston surrendered, and Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. News of the latter produced the wildest frenzy among our troops. The latter part of April were ordered to Nashville. Going by rail, we arrived in due course. Hostilities having ceased, the excitement incident thereto having subsided, we led a quiet camp life up to middle of June. The regiment was mustered out June 12, 1865, starting a day or two later for Springfield, Ill., to receive final payment and to disband.
We give name of each member of Company C that was present for muster out June 12th, except where already noted; see list of sergeants and corporals and remarks below on page 126, which with the fifty-three men dropped from the roll by July 1, 1864, and the following dropped since, or mustered out in advance of the regiment, make the one hundred and four men, with which company entered the service: N. Brady and I. W. Ward, transferred to United States engineer corps, July 20th and August 21st, 1864; E. P. Brown, Wm. F. Ellis, and John Thornton, died at Andersonville; James A. Allison and Zenas Fulton, killed at Franklin; James Ashmore, killed at Nashville; Nathaniel Henderson, mustered out May 4th; William B. Cowan, May 17th, John Braselton, June 2d, and Daniel Suycott, June 8, 1865; Samuel W. Sigler, transferred to Veteran Reserve Corps, January 10, 1865, and William R. Cook, transferred to Forty-fourth Illinois, June 12, 1865, fourteen in all.