Near Chattanooga, Sunday, Nov. 29. Slept very cold, or rather shivered through the night with little sleep. This morning it is still very cold.

Froze quite hard last night. Harnessed the team and "snaked" some firewood, banked our tent, etc. Gathered leaves in them so we were a little better prepared for it. Tried to write home, but my fingers were so numb that I gave it up much to my dissatisfaction, as I know they are anxious for my having not written any since the battle.

Near Chattanooga, Monday, Nov. 30. Cold during the night but comfortable at midday. Wrote a letter to John, signed pay rolls in the afternoon. It is expected we will move soon. Hope it is so as our infantry are in a suffering condition, their tents at Bridgeport and their blankets, many of them, lost on the battle-field. They are scattered through the valley seeking shelter from friendly cliffs, drawing comfort from glowing fires, and trusting fate and fortune for rations, as Uncle Sam fails this time. But hope it will not be so long.

[Sidenote: 1863 The Flag]

Near Chattanooga, Tuesday, Dec. 1. Health good and fine appet.i.te for dodgers, which is all we have, minus salt and extras. Warning given in camp to avoid smallpox. Case in the 12th Battery carried out to the woods this morning. Commenced writing to brother Thomas but interrupted to hitch up for review. Most of the mule teams were required to help us out, and moved out "in fine style". Formed line on the extreme right of the Division under direction of Captain Dillon. He tried to show off a little by ordering a "trot", but came very nearly showing a failure. The men were ragged, dirty and worn out, so were the beasts, but the fine line of stripes and stars looked as beautiful as ever, intermingled with the blue banners. It is a soldier's privilege to look at it as a friend and boon companion, "may it ever wave".

Soon the inspectors came. The first one was Major General Hunter, inspector general, glittering with military pomp and gaudy ta.s.sels, etc.

I did not like his appearance. He wore a sandy mustache, and looked as though he might be forty-five years old. He was followed by the modest una.s.suming Grant, dressed in plain blue, no glitter or decorations except the small stars on his deserving shoulders. He looked much poorer and worse than when I last saw him. By his side was General Smith, surly as ever, and General Meigs alongside of the "war dog" Logan, who it is said is now in command of the 15th Corps. The bands sounded the cheers as they pa.s.sed, which filled the narrow valley with echo. They pa.s.sed and the line marched to their encampment.

Near Chattanooga, Wednesday, Dec. 2. Horses fed, cleaned, etc. I commenced writing on letter commenced yesterday, but was again disturbed with orders to hitch up as we were to turn the battery over, horses, harness and all to Chattanooga. Very good news, and therefore promptly obeyed. Took the six pieces and caissons, leaving the battery wagon and forge. The town was farther than I expected, about three miles. Crossed the river on the pontoon bridge (simple but invaluable invention, this pontoon), a "flying ferry" running right above it and well used. It is a novel arrangement, in which the boat is crossed by the strength of the current acting against gates let into the water, it being fastened to a tow-head above by forty rods of rope. After some delay we parked the old battery that we had hauled through the mud of Mississippi, across the bayous of Louisiana and the mountains of Tennessee, and had belched our terror to traitors from Corinth, Raymond, Jackson, Champion Hills, Vicksburg and Chattanooga. Although once wrested from our hands for an instant, success always crowned their labors. We left them alongside of a long line of captured napoleons.

The town was under strict military order, and patrols busy picking up all those found without a pa.s.s, so I did not have a chance of going around. Had a strong desire to visit Lieutenant J. Silsby's Battery, but I could not. Returned to camp by 5 P. M. Wrote on T. L.'s letter till dark, when we were a.s.sembled for pay at the Captain's tent, it being for the months of September and October. Clothing accounts settled. I was $12.86 behind, therefore did not draw but $19.15, better than some who did not draw any. Turned $15 over to J. Lester, to be expressed home, leaving me but two dollars pocket money.

IN WINTER QUARTERS

[Sidenote: 1863 Scant Rations]

Enroute, Thursday, Dec. 3. Moved for Bridgeport, Ala., 7 A. M. All the serviceable horses reported to Lieutenant Harlow of the 12th Battery and were put in the teams. E. P. Dixon took "Reb" for a saddle horse, giving me a pony instead, which exempted my team. Emptied my valise into E. W.

E.'s knapsack. My blanket on saddle, Evie's blanket in valise, saddle by my side, and we started in rear of 12th Battery. Double quicked it for the first two miles after which we came into muddy roads and moved slow.

Walked about seven miles, taking railroad. Had to wait three or four hours for Battery to come up at South Sides coal mines. A steep stony hill ahead of us, and a long wagon train loaded with artillery horses stuck on it. The Battery did not get started until after sundown. The horses were entirely jaded out, no feed and hard work. Nearly every piece stalled and obliged to double teams. Tired of waiting and standing in the mud, cold and cheerless we pushed on through the brush until we reached the valley below. We unharnessed and tied to the trees our faithful but hungry steeds, sc.r.a.ped our haversacks for the last crumb, after which we laid down all alone and no "grub" for the morrow, but it worried not our lives.

Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 4. Awoke at dawn, the ground was white with frost and blankets stiff, although we slept warm. The 12th Battery succeeded in getting over some time during the night. "Ned" gone from the tree. I started in search walking brisk for an hour over the hills and high brush to no avail. Found our boys in squads by fires, having suffered severely during the night. Most of them had no blankets.

Returned. Evie started and soon returned astride a fine specimen in the shape of a "sorrel crowbait", mane and tail closely shaven and points very prominent; but he could carry the harness, so he would do. No signs of moving with the batteries. We have nothing to eat, and by this time quite hungry, which induced us to push on in an independent squad. Two miles out found "Ned" standing innocently at a fire, held by an infantry man. Of course I traded. Pa.s.sed the 1st and 2nd Brigade in camp, also the Division headquarters. Found grain on roadside near Whiteside.

Halted to let horses eat. Pa.s.sed by General Smith and Brigade. Captain Dillon halted and spoke gruffly to us, but finally rode on, and we followed after him. Made serious attempts to buy cornbread of citizens or hard-tack from trains going to the front, but failed. Joined by D. J.

Davis, E. F. Hayes and W. H. H. Booth. We journeyed on together.

The sun was very warm, the frozen ground converted into mud. I was afoot. Noon came and hunger became more pointed. We halted to rest in sight of a camp, a brigade in winter quarters. "Council of war" held and the following program determined upon. E. W. E. and E. F. Hayes were to take the horses and go to the above-mentioned camp and procure something to eat regardless of expense, while we went to "Mica Jack Cave" to await their return. Visited this stupendous piece of G.o.d's handiwork and proceeded into it as far as daylight would show us the way. A truly impressive scene, solid rock under one's feet, pure crystal water trickling down its walls, streams fell from above on * * * of rock, which by constant trickling were now smooth and symmetrical. On all sides long ranges of leeches were arranged for saltpetre works. The earth out of which it was obtained was brought from the entrance of the cave, the best of it five miles, in large vats at the mouth for boiling it down. At length the boys came, having succeeded to a charm, as they had a box of condemned crackers thrown aside (being mouldy) out of which they filled their haversacks, and which to us tasted sweeter than honey.

We ate heartily and thankfully of these musty crackers and water from the cave, after which I felt much stronger.

Seven miles to Bridgeport, which we made easily by 4 P. M. Endeavored to buy our supper, but the hungry boys of the 1st and 2nd Brigades had cleared the town. Waited until after night for the arrival of the rest of the boys, as we hoped they would have rations, but as they did not appear, D. J. D., E. W. E. and myself started in search of camping ground. It was very dark and we wandered across the large flat covered with logs, stumps and rifle pits in search of the camp of the 3rd Division, from one camp fire to another, until at last we found the train loaded with crackers. Dan succeeded in filling his haversack with crackers from behind a wagon. Honest for a hungry man. Built a large fire by a dead tree, made our bed in the leaves, and after eating a few dry crackers, retired for the night, tired and rather lonesome.

Bridgeport, Sat.u.r.day, Dec. 5. Had a fine night's rest, also a fine breakfast of fried crackers and coffee. Evie borrowed the pan, I begged the salt, Dan the coffee, after which went up town, gathered waste grain and fed the famished horses. Ate a pie and water. 10 A. M. the batteries came in, having been obliged to leave their ammunition chest behind, and hard work to come at that. Eight of our horses died on the road. The road is lined on all sides with the dead horses and mules, having died of starvation. Went into camp east of town. Tents came in 3 P. M. Full rations for man and beast. Night found us comfortably quartered and "happy as lambs", infantry singing "Rally, boys, rally" etc. They have just pa.s.sed through a hard trip, no tents, got scant rations, and were half famished by the time they got here, but there was no grumbling or lagging, each marching cheerfully, parching his corn in the ashes, as corn is stuff to keep up strength; but such boys are invincible while on the field, as on the march, alike jolly and contented.

[Sidenote: 1863 A Quiet Sunday]

Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 6. A beautiful Sabbath day. Air soft and balmy, camp remarkably quiet and still. Two large mails received, I the happy recipient of eight letters. Spent most of the day in writing a letter commenced the 1st to T. L., such is the difficulty of letter-writing in the army. Felt tired and worn out indeed and slept considerable of the day. Osterhaus's Division came in and went into camp on our left.

Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 7. Changed, washed, etc. in the forenoon. Wrote home in afternoon. All quiet in and around camp. Various rumors afloat as to our final destination for the winter. Generally supposed we are to open the road to Corinth. Fine weather for this time of the year.

Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 8. A cold rainy day, very disagreeable in camp; naturally thought much of home and its comforts. But we looked forward to the happy time coming when we will be permitted to join the circle on the old hearthstone and know war no more. May the day soon come. I am not impatient but anxious.

Bridgeport, Wednesday, Dec. 9. Rain ceased, sun appeared and the deep slushy mud soon dried up. After dinner I was detailed to help take horses to turn them over with Lieutenant Simpson. Took thirty-eight horses and three mules, crossed the bridge on to the island, and had to go up stream two miles to the corral. Its presence was manifested by the stench from far off from the carrion of the dead. They filled for acres the woods to a number almost incredible, starved to death. The corral-master was an old-looking man. We found him in an isolated clapboard house with only two or three inhabitants. He must enjoy the life of a hermit. The corral was a field of ten acres containing three thousand to four thousand head of mules and horses, all much pulled down for want of feed. It was sundown before we turned them over. Had three miles of bad road to camp. Walked it through the dark, lost our track several times. Found a good supper of fried beef and biscuit awaiting us. Spent evening in Griff's tent listening to music of flute and vocal as discoursed by Byness, Parker, etc.

Bridgeport, Thursday, Dec. 10. Sun so hot as to be quite warm. Much like a spring day in Wisconsin. Everybody lively and full of fun, troubled with nothing but "nothing to do", which to me is a serious cup. Gambling among the indulging ones quite brisk. Watches and pens raffled for, etc.

A chuckluck doing big business was surprised by a guard in Osterhaus's camp this afternoon and the boys taken to the headquarters of the Division under guard. The idleness and monotony of camp is fearfully demoralizing to many, and inevitably leads to the gaming table if indulged in.

Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 11. A most beautiful and delightful day, and all the boys merry and light-hearted as larks. It was expected last night that we should march to-day, but instead we policed camp. Our officers are making a sudden effort toward strict discipline so long neglected, that it is properly called "putting on style" now. C---- put on a day's extra duty under guard by order of Captain ----, more to glut vengeance than justice, I am afraid. Men put on extra duty for not attending roll-call.

[Sidenote: 1863 "Honest Abe"]

Bridgeport, Sat.u.r.day, Dec. 12. A misty morning which broke into rain, which drizzled all day, enough to make it sun-less and disagreeable outside and chilly in tent for want of fire. Read "Honest Abe's"

Message, which in my estimation is true and honest, every word. The _old_ Democrats in camp would like to criticize, but can't find much fault. It is hard to put away party prejudices. Small mail arrived, but none for me.

Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 13. The heavy rain of yesterday and last night still continued, and in the afternoon it rained much heavier with strong wind which drove it through the tents, rendering everything wet and uncomfortable. Wrote an imperfect letter to Sister Ellen in A. M. The remainder of the day spent in reading _Gleason's Companion_ which I luckily hit on. Comrades in tent playing "poker" all day "for fun". Laid down at night in wet blankets and aching bones.

Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 14. Woke up last night to find myself "shaking"

at double quick. Shook for nearly an hour and a half as hard and fast as ever, after which a burning fever came on and continued all night. Did not get up to roll call, but watered my horses, after which I was called on guard, the 2nd relief, guarding C----. Cold and windy, rain cleared off. Many of the boys raising their tents, walling them with logs, building chimneys, etc. At night C---- was allowed to go to his tent, so I was relieved from guard. The evening seemed very long with nothing to do or read.

Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 15. Quite cold in the morning but sun soon appeared and warmed up the air as well as the soldiers' heart. Intended to "fix up" our tent but failed to procure team, so we washed in the forenoon, built a fire in the woods, it resounding on all sides with the axes of the soldiers felling trees, etc., as if it was a chopping bee in the backwoods.

P. M. Wrote a letter to sister. Sewed and darned. The day pa.s.sed quickly and pleasantly. No mail, though much looked for.

Bridgeport, Wednesday, Dec. 16. Reveille at 5 A. M. Breakfast at 6 A. M.

Sick call at 8 A. M. Guard mounting 9 A. M. Water call 10 A. M. Dinner and "feed horses" call 12 M. Water call 3 P. M. Retreat and roll-call 5 P. M. Tatoo 9 P. M. Taps at 9:15 P. M. This is the regular undisturbed routine of camp duty, the same to-day as yesterday, the same yesterday as to-morrow. Nothing to jar the well balanced wheel. On she goes with no interruption, and we hope not for relief from this mental bane of monotony until we will be permitted to take off the uniform and don the citizen's coat, and not obliged to listen to bugle or drum. Blake, Evans and Dixon went to the woods this morning and got out logs to raise the tent. After dinner hauled them up with mule team. A "raise" before night having about three feet of a wall, much more roomy than before but colder. Indications of rain. Expected a wetting through the cracks. All the boys have been very busy in the same way.

[Sidenote: 1863 Building a "shebang"]

Bridgeport, Thursday, Dec. 17. Rained very heavy all night with wind which threatened to overthrow the elevated canvas overhead. Slept warm and dry, and after breakfast Schmidt and myself mudded the "shebang", I acting as chief mason, he carrying the mud. Continued raining most all day and all hands stayed in doors most of the time. Cheerless, were we not used to it. Clothing issued. No mail.

Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 18. Sharp, cold night, the mud of yesterday frozen hard. Evie and myself started to the hills to quarry stone for a fireplace after breakfast. Worked hard for two hours and gathered a good load. Waited for a team another hour. None came, so we went to camp after dinner. Blake did the chimney, and we had the gratification at night to have a large blazing fire in our room, now comfortable quarters which looked quite home-like. Stories told with fun, laughter, till late at night.

Bridgeport, Sat.u.r.day, Dec. 19. Still cold and windy. We were apparently as much pinched as though we were in Wisconsin, notwithstanding a great difference to be seen in the climate. The ground has not been frozen to the depth of four inches here yet. Water open most of the time, while there snow and ice is unceasing at this season. 2nd and 4th Divisions reported to be coming in. After evening roll-call the Company formed in hollow square and listened to an order from General McPherson in regard to veterans re-enlisting which caused quite an excitement. Many talk of re-enlisting.