25th. Intended to join the regiment, but heard that it had gone out early on a reconnoissance. Eggleston remained with me. Maj. N. came up after dark tired out. Train pulled out in night and Div. crossed the river.
Monday, August 25, 2014
August 25th, 1864.
We have sent away all our sick and wounded, and expect to follow in the morning. I do not like the idea of getting so far from our base, as it is likely to interfere with our rations. However, we will probably not remain very long. With field hospitals, change is the order; here today, there tomorrow. We have no patients; nothing to keep my mind from realizing its utter loneliness. At such times my heart reaches out to my family with unutterable longing. But, be still, fond heart. Two years of banishment are past, but one remains. God is good, and kind, and merciful. Let me gather consolation from tha past, and look with confidence and hope into the future.
I have said that I am lonely. I would be much more so were it not for the comradeship of my friend, Mr. Collier. We take long walks together, talking over old times and future plans until we get to some high point overlooking Petersburg and its fortifications. We then sit down for an hour or two and enjoy the cool evening breeze, and witness the grandest pyrotechnic display the mind can conceive of. I saw William Dunham today; he has been promoted to sergeant. There is no better or braver soldier in the Seventeenth Regiment than he.
Thursday, 25th—There are now from five thousand to six thousand sick and wounded here, and still more are coming. Though some of the sick are gaining slowly, yet there are from five to six deaths daily; there have been as many as eight deaths in a day, and not less than three a day for the time the hospital has been established here. I am told that the dead are buried in the Rome cemetery. Most of the men are sent out to the front again just as soon as they can go. General Hospital, Ward D, Second Section, Second Division. Rome, Georgia.
Etowah Bridge, Thursday, Aug. 25. Oh, to-day it is very warm. We can scarcely muster energy enough to move. Wrote a short letter to T. L. Drove off condemned mules to the river. No mail. Wm. Stewart and Andy Wentworth missing. Fears are entertained about their safety.
Thursday, August 25. — We had the room used by the conscripts downstairs assigned to us field officers to-clay. We scrubbed it up with sand and brick, and moved down. It is on the corner and is much cooler and pleasanter than our old quarters, and we have much more liberty allowed us. Lieutenant Preston of the navy received permission to give his parole for 30 days and endeavor to get exchanged for Lieutenant Glascelle.
Aug. 25th. Were ordered to the left at 3 P.M. The rebs began to shell us as we left; moved about five miles through up the works and came back.
August 25th. Last night, under cover of darkness, a detail was made, about twenty men, ordered to advance and intrench, to try and dislodge the enemy’s sharpshooters who were up in high trees and making trouble for us, shooting at the boys, by improving every chance they could get. When the opportunity came, our boys were to give them a volley. They did so, but did not harm the rebs. I heard them call out, as soon as our boys fired on them, “How are you Horace Greeley? ” showing that no harm came to them. It made quite a laugh at the time. The rebs often called to us “How are you Horace Greeley? Does your mother know you are out?”
Late in the afternoon all firing ceased and everything became quiet. We could hear the enemy’s drum corps and they could no doubt hear ours. Our boys and the Johnnies on the skirmish line entered into an agreement not to fire on one another. For proof they fixed bayonets on their guns, sticking them in the ground, butts up. Both sides could see. Agreements made at such times were kept. Both sides kept outside the earthworks. Sometimes the boys would meet between the lines, exchange tobacco for coffee. The rebs were always very anxious to get hold of New York papers. Night coming on, both sides would resume duty. A hard shower came late this afternoon.
by John Beauchamp Jones
AUGUST 25TH.—Clear and warm.
No war news, except reports that Gen. Wheeler has destroyed much of the railroad inSherman’s rear, and that Early has forcedSheridan back across thePotomac.
Gen. Lee writes that he already notices the good effect of the order published by our government, encouraging desertions from the enemy’s armies. He suggests that it be translated into the German, and circulated extensively in the enemy’s country.
My turnips seem to be coming up at last; have sown them everywhere, so that when other crops come off, the ground will still be producing something.
Bought a bushel of red peas to-day for $30—the last for sale—the rest being taken for horses. Such is the food that my family is forced to subsist on.
Mr. Haxall, a millionaire, of conscript age, has just been appointed assessor of tax-in-kind. The salary is a pitiful sum, but the rich man is kept out of the army while the poor man is forced to fight in defense of his property.
The President is indefatigable in his labors. Every day the papers he sends to the department bear evidence of his attention to the minutest subject, even to the small appointments; he frequently rejects the Secretary’s recommendations.
Gen. Bragg recommends that publication be made here, in theUnited States, and inEurope, encouraging enlistments of foreigners in our army.
