“Boys, we are ordered to charge the works. I don’t think we can take them, but we can try. Forward!”
“In thirty minutes this glorious patriot’s blood was flowing upon the ground. The advance was made without a halt, but men were mowed down as wheat before the reaper. They marched to the breastworks and scaled the walls, but they were bayoneted on top of the works and fell over on the enemy. Seven dead generals were brought and laid on this porch—Cleburne, Granberry, Strahl, Gist, Carter and Adams. Adams fell, leaving his dead horse on the very crest of the breastworks. Cleburne’s horse fell also crossing the works. This is one of the most heroic pictures of the war.”
Sixty per cent of our army was killed and wounded. The enemy retreated to Nashville after the best day’s work (for them) they had ever done.
Our company had but one officer left. We were consolidated with Company B and the two together scarcely made a full company. The whole regiment was consolidated into six companies, instead of ten.
The enemy’s loss was slight compared with ours. The bravest of the blood of the South was poured out for nothing. Who was right, Johnston or Hood?
We followed Schofield to Nashville and invested that post, but we were outnumbered, as he had been re-inforced from every quarter. He broke our line and captured about half of our regiment. My friend, Bob Bond was captured; Logan too, and many others.
We retreated in quick time. Near Spring Hill a squad of about fifty cavalrymen made a dash through our line, as we had stacked arms and were preparing to camp for the night, and went far to the rear. Coming along the pike, never dreaming of danger, were four soldiers, bearing a wounded man on a litter. The Yankee squad shot the doctor’s horse, wounding the doctor and killed one of the four soldiers. As the poor fellow fell, the wounded man rolled out on the pike. The front line, recovered from its surprise, grabbed the guns, surrounded the Yankees, captured them and made things lively for them for awhile.
We crossed the river at Columbia on two pontoon bridges, one for Forrest’s cavalry, being about two hundred yards below us, down the river. It was almost dark, but skirmishing was still going on, when Forrest’s pontoon broke loose, leaving him, his staff and about two hundred of his cavalry.
Our ordnance was crossing on our bridge, and all was over except two wagons. Our regiment was waiting on the bank. General Cheatham and his staff were at the top of the bank. General Forrest rode up to our bridge and was about to cut off the three wagons of ordnance when the driver whipped up his horses to join the other wagons. Forrest took his pistol and threatened to kill him if he attempted to go on the bridge ahead of the cavalry. The driver was quite plucky. He said his orders were to follow the ordnance train; if General Forrest did not like it he must go to higher officers. Forrest was furious. He spurred his horse and went to General Cheatham, swearing he would cross that bridge ahead of the ordnance. General Cheatham was perfectly calm, and explained that he wished to get the wagons over before night, and into camp, so he could lay his hands on his ordnance. Forrest was not pacified. He drew his pistol and threatened to shoot Cheatham, who rode to him at once, saying, “Shoot; I am not afraid of any man in the Confederacy.”