Health of all is very good, though great dissatisfaction prevails in regard to rations. Only a little over half rations of hard-tack given us. They call it post rations, not enough to satisfy the appet.i.tes of those who have been used to live on fighting rations. "Anywhere but Nashville" is the cry.

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Dec. 31. Surprised to find the ground covered with snow and very cold. Formed with overcoats on at 9:30 A. M. for muster for pay. Hope we will get it soon. Boys all very flat. "Busted". I commence a New Year with a light heart and a lighter locker. On guard.

Luckily on the guns, so I did not have to go to the stables. So the last thing I did in 1864 was to stand guard, and the first thing in 1865.

Trust it is not going to be so always.

Another year has rolled past and joined the many gone before in the vistas of the past. Its glorious deeds of valor and achievements, its scenes of anguish and bloodshed, of wrong and oppression, are subjects for the future historian. Its ever varying scenes and emotions are indelibly impressed upon my mind, which death alone can efface. The snow has clothed the earth in a lovely mantle of white as though to hide the sad past, and offer a clear page for me in the coming year. Let me then look forward with hope and determination to keep in the path of virtue and right, striving to improve the blessings and privileges offered me, so that when 1865 closes I need not look back with regret at the year spent.

[Sidenote: 1865 On Guard in the Snow]

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 1, 1865. New Year's morning dawned bitter cold.

I suffered terribly on guard last night. A heavy impenetrable mist, such as I have nowhere seen except in Nashville, enveloped the earth till 9 A. M. freezing in icy down upon everything. When I came off post I looked more like some ghostly spectre in white than a soldier in blue.

Rations very short in camp, but we had a big New Year's dinner of soft bread and b.u.t.ter, pies and Spring Green cake of Miss Spencer's make.

This evening I received a letter from my faithful brother John. He wrote in the midst of the festivities of a Christmas visit.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 2. Weather is growing warmer, the snow melting and it is growing very muddy. All the talk is about "going to Sherman".

Preparatory orders are issued and we expect to start within two weeks.

Lieutenant Simpson left us to-day, gone to artillery headquarters as ordnance officer. He is a good officer but lacks energy. He goes with the best wishes of the boys.

Nashville, Tuesday, Jan. 3. A quiet day. Weather much warmer.

Probabilities of going to Sherman lessening. General Thomas has protested against our leaving. Put up harness racks this afternoon. Big mail bringing me several papers, reading matter for the evening. Our new lieutenants mustered. Corporals Goodwin and Proctor made sergeants to fill their vacancies. T. C. Jackson and W. B. Jacobs, veterans, made corporals. All worthy appointments.

Nashville, Wednesday, Jan. 4. A very mild day. Camp is getting muddy again. Chopping wood all the forenoon. Relieved this afternoon by an extra duty squad who failed to turn out to roll call this morning.

Estimated for clothing. Don't know what the news is, got no money to buy a paper. A large back mail received, having been to Savannah and back. Amongst it I was very "tickled" to find my long-looked-for socks and gloves, so nicely knit, with a billet in each bearing the love of the maker. They make me truly warm by thinking of whence they came.

Nashville, Thursday, Jan. 5. Froze a little last night. Very muddy to-day. On guard, same old story in camp. Getting monotonous. Received a letter from Thomas and from an old Battery chum. Drew soft bread rations, a pleasant change. Clothing issued. Captain Hood got a grand military problem through his brain to-day by changing sergeants, placing ranking ones on the right of each section. Rather a fine addition to army regulations I think. This took Sergeant James away from us to 1st Platoon. Dan Goodwin takes his place. 2nd Platoon hates to see him go.

Our new "non-coms" appeared in stripes.

Nashville, Friday, Jan. 6. Disagreeable and rainy night. On guard. Wet slushy day. Spent it pleasantly writing and reading _Ballou's Monthly_, received from Sanitary Commission. A little difficulty occurred in camp to-day. Quartermaster Malish visited stables. Found B. Reynolds refusing duty as guard. Ordered Dziewanowski, sergeant of the guard, to "tie him up" which he refused to do. It was reported to Captain Hood and ended in reducing "Coly" to the ranks, appointing Corporal Hutchinson sergeant of the 3rd Platoon, Ed Hayes corporal.

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Jan. 7. Turned cold last night. Snowed and blew wickedly. The day seemed very long to me. Did hope to get a letter to-day, but was disappointed. The theme of discussion in camp is the reduction of "Coly". He was a favorite of the boys, and as he lost his position by favoring one of our number, we can but sympathize with him.

He is an ambitious young man, but got entangled in "red tape" and fell.

This is the second reduction since I have been in the Battery, more noticed because unfrequent. Health good. Ate our last bit of b.u.t.ter for supper. We must now forget home luxuries once more. The bread rations hold out well. So far so good.

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 8. Froze very hard last night. Inspection 8:30 A. M. As soon as Griff was relieved from guard, 9 A. M., we started to church by permission. Listened to a very good sermon from a Christian Commission agent in M. E. Church.

Reached camp 2 P. M. n.o.body at home, and we spent a very pensive afternoon, or at least I did. Many of our best men are coming down with the diarrhea. Parker of the next tent was very sick all day. Such things make me sad. But when the mail came bringing me that ever encouraging sheet from John, my spirits somewhat revived, and I found much to be thankful for. My health is unimpaired. Why should I pine? I will not.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 9. Rain, rain!--all day without cessation. Was on detail all the forenoon chopping wood. Got quite wet and felt unwell.

Symptoms of dumb ague.

Nashville, Tuesday, Jan. 10. On guard. Stood about sixty rods from camp on a pile of shakes in a cold disagreeable rain, the wind blowing furiously. I still feel very bad, unfit to stand guard but will try to stand now that I have commenced it.

[Sidenote: 1865 "Shaking"]

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Jan. 14. Sickness has prevented me from writing the last three days. Wednesday morning while on post from 3 to 5 A. M. I was taken with violent chills and ague, continuing nearly the two hours I was on. Every muscle and sinew in me was wracked, while I stood in a driving wind and freezing rain. Never did I suffer so much from "shaking" but I did not call for relief till my time was up. It was with difficulty that I staggered to my bunk where a furious fever set in and raged very high. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday part of the time delirious, but I was the object of all the care that could be bestowed on me under the circ.u.mstances, Cousin Griffith filling as nearly as he could the place of mother and sister. Last evening the fever left me.

Bathed and felt somewhat refreshed. Spent a very restless night, my whole muscular system seemed charged with pain, but this morning it eased off, and I find myself thickly covered with feverish looking pimples. They say it is "fever rash." Doctor came 9 A. M., looked dubious about something, but left with the injunction to "go slow".

About 10 A. M. I dressed and wrote a short letter home. I feel very weak, but the pain has all left me.

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 15. Felt pretty smart this morning. Up and ate quite a breakfast. The eruptions much larger, feel a little sore. Doctor came to see me after dinner and has p.r.o.nounced it a case of varioloid.

Ordered us to keep the boys all out of the tent, and my tent-mates to go and be vaccinated. I was much surprised at the announcement, as I was not conscious of ever being exposed, and even yet a little incredulous, but if this is smallpox I can stand it. While I have been sick, our nice lot of horses have been turned over, also all of the harness, and it is said we are to draw muskets soon to do guard duty in town.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 16. In camp. I still feel pretty well. My throat is very sore. Postules begin to fill and turn white, guess it is smallpox. I am ordered to the smallpox hospital, and am now awaiting the ambulance. I must leave everything, as I could bring nothing away. I feel sorry to leave the boys but would not stay to spread the contagion among them. So, dear Journal, I must bid you good-bye until I return.

G.o.d grant that it may not be long. I antic.i.p.ate but a short siege, am astonished to find it so easy thus far. Adieu.

[Sidenote: 1865 In Hospital]

Nashville, Monday, Feb. 6. Back in camp. Mr. Journal, I have returned after just three weeks' absence and now hasten to resume my story. As the sun was setting in the west the ambulance came for me. Wrapped in a single blanket, I left my old comrades while they were drawing muskets and making a great noise over it. I was ushered into ward 7 with its long row of low cots, most of them occupied by men with very sore looking faces, but I had seen too many such to allow my heart to sink. I was clothed in hospital clothes and tucked into bed, where I lay for twelve days. In a few days the postules filled up, raised very large and were very painful. As I lay every inch of me seemed as though on fire.

The doctor would come (a kind-hearted man) and call it "a very pretty case", the postules being very large and thick too. I suffered no internal pain, but for a while the external agony was very great, and I longed for a cool drink of water, but was denied it.

About the 23rd my face was swollen so as to completely close my eyes and exclude the light of day for about twenty-four hours, which with matter and heat, I feared, would affect them, and in vain did I plead with the nurse to bathe them with a little water, until the doctor came next morning, which was a priceless relief. When they began to dry I recovered very fast. By keeping strict discipline on my finger nails, I was soon covered with scabs large enough for an alligator, and in due time [they] sh.e.l.led off in my bed. The weather now was very cold and I suffered some in spite of half a dozen blankets. No visitors were allowed, but Griffith (kind soul, can I ever forget him) came often to the gate bringing my mail and written comments from himself, which I was permitted to answer. By keeping a lead pencil under my pillow, wrote several letters thus, home, contrary to orders, but I knew their anxiety.

Sat.u.r.day, the 28th 3 P. M. the doctor p.r.o.nounced me able to get up and my clothes were brought to me. I was astonished to find myself so weak.

A few minutes after, two soldiers were announced at the gate with a message for me, and I staggered out to see Griff and D. Evans, which did me much good, but I had to return very soon. I gained now very fast, notwithstanding a bad cold. Monday, tent-mate Dan brought in with same malady.

Tuesday, I was sent to convalescent ward to make room for the influx.

Over 500 patients in now. From 8 to 12 die daily. I was put on guard first night, six hours at a stretch to guard Rebs. Had the same every night. I began to get very lonesome soon. Had to fight terribly with the blues, much more than when in bed, and to-day, in answer to urgent request and Captain's application, Doctor let me off. Took a bath, a new suit of clothes, and here I am. Feel quite weak, but happy to be once more amongst my comrades. Hospital life is not the life for me. Very grateful am I that I have recovered so well. Will be marked considerably, but who cares for that?

Nashville, Tuesday, Feb. 7. The ground is covered with two inches of snow and everything frozen hard, very cold. Feel very well except a severe cold that has been on me for a week. Our boys are doing guard duty with muskets in town, that they drew the day I left. Twelve men go to town every day. They do it with ill grace. Half of them return to camp ere their tour is half out.

Nashville, Wednesday, Feb. 8. Weather still continues cold. Orderly asked me to-day if I was fit for duty. I told him I was too weak for much duty, but would do all I could. Feel quite bad to-night. Bones and head ache, could eat but little supper. Wrote several letters.

Nashville, Thursday, Feb. 9. No warmer; feel no better. Received a letter from the Valley with the sad, sad news that my dear mother had again been very sick. But thank kind Providence she was improving. I pray that she may be wholly restored ere this.

Nashville, Friday, Feb. 10. Last night I had another visit from that evil genius that seems to hover over my very existence, the ague. I shook briskly for about an hour and a half, but it was not followed by a very heavy fever. Got up to breakfast. Found that Keeler had called my name for supernumerary guard. I did not feel able for duty, but as the boys have such heavy duty on every other day, I could not refuse to do all I could, so I went and drew me a musket and turned out to guard-mount. Oh! how ferocious I did look with my bra.s.s plates and fixed bayonet. Griff gone to town on guard. The mail has just brought me a letter from John which says Mother is improving, but yet suffering severely.

[Sidenote: 1865 A Young Recruit]

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Feb. 11. Felt very well this morning. Heard yesterday that Benj. Hughes formerly of Spring Green, was a member of Co. E., 44th Wisconsin Infantry. Sergeant Hutchinson going there on pa.s.s, David Evans and I went along. Found the camp on College Hill three miles off. With little difficulty I spied him building a chimney. When last I saw him he was just big enough for a cow boy, but in the last four years he had goaded nature along to satisfy his patriotism so as to serve his country. Yet he was very small, but round, tough, seventeen years old. He looked much pleased to meet us, and returned with us to camp to see the rest of the boys. After dinner Griff and I visited smallpox hospital. Heard from D. J. D. but could not see him. He is yet in bed.