<P> In his 1885 memoirs, Grant described his experience that night: </P> <P> During the night rain fell in torrents and our troops were exposed to the storm without shelter . I made my headquarters under a tree a few hundred yards back from the river bank . My ankle was so much swollen from the fall of my horse the Friday night preceding, and the bruise was so painful, that I could get no rest . The drenching rain would have precluded the possibility of sleep without this additional cause . Some time after midnight, growing restive under the storm and the continuous pain, I moved back to the loghouse under the bank . This had been taken as a hospital, and all night wounded men were being brought in, their wounds dressed, a leg or an arm amputated as the case might require, and everything being done to save life or alleviate suffering . The sight was more unendurable than encountering the enemy's fire, and I returned to my tree in the rain . </P> <P> A famous anecdote encapsulates Grant's unflinching attitude to temporary setbacks and his tendency for offensive action . Sometime after midnight, Sherman encountered Grant standing under a tree, sheltering himself from the pouring rain and smoking one of his cigars, while considering his losses and planning for the next day . Sherman remarked, "Well, Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?" Grant looked up . "Yes," he replied, followed by a puff . "Yes . Lick' em tomorrow, though ." </P> <P> Nathan Bedford Forrest to Patrick R. Cleburne </P>

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