20th.—Nothing new in the field. Armies quiet; perhaps preparing for dreadful work. I got a note last night from J. P., written with a pencil. He and other prisoners are working ten hours a day on “Dutch Gap Canal.” They work under the fire of our own batteries. Poor fellow! my heart yearns over him.
Monday, October 20, 2014
October 20th. Many reports of the great battle came late last night and this morning. Great cheering and rejoicing. Our gallant Phil rode from Winchester to the army and saved the day. Expressions on all sides, General Sheridan was never defeated. Jubal Early found out that our gallant Phil Sheridan was in command of the Shenandoah Valley and he had the men to back him up. The talk in camp is the war will soon be over.
Etowah Bridge, Thursday, Oct. 20. To-day is ration day and we begin to feel the effects of the blockade. Only half rations of everything except hard-tack. No salt. Heavy trains of supplies are being taken north every day from Allatoona. The winds, I guess, waft the tidings of noble Morton’s election in Indiana with 4,000 majority to us. Hope it is true. The Indiana soldiers in camp here seem highly elated. Band played till after midnight last night.
Thursday, 20th—The same as ever. We marched twelve miles and went into camp near Galesville, Alabama. All of the forces of General Sherman which have been after Hood, came together at this place by different roads, and are now in bivouac. General Hardie of Hood’s army is in front of us with his corps and still retreating. It is fine marching weather.
20th. Thursday. Pursued on back road 15 miles, picking up some prisoners. The victory complete. All worship Sheridan who turned a complete rout into the most complete victory of the war. Rebs panic stricken, not even forming at Fisher’s Hill. Our loss in killed and wounded heavy. Gen. Ramseur mortally wounded. At our old camp.
Alpine, Chatuga Valley, October 20, 1864.
Got here at dark last night, eight miles from Summerville. We seemed to be headed southwest. I have the sorest feet I have enjoyed for two years. Do you notice how accurately I miss it in every prediction I venture? I am a fair sample of the ignorance “Pap” keeps this army of his movements. He has shown his ability to keep us from divining his purposes, but he or any other general cannot keep us from guessing. Fine country here, for Georgia. An officer and 20 men are detailed daily for foragers.
They start ahead in the morning, and shoot hogs, sheep, gather sweet potatoes, apples, etc., and bring all out to the roadside. The hogs and sheep are cut into pieces of about 20 or 25 pounds. When the regiment comes along every man makes a grab as he passes at the pile, throws his chunk over his shoulder, and all without breaking ranks. You can imagine the appearance a battalion would make at nightfall.
Thursday, October 20. — Received a letter from Mr. Garesché, saying that he had taken steps to find out Colonel Greene’s residence. Captain Amory received a letter from his mother and one by mistake from Ned Boit, intended for William Amory’s son, alluding to Charlie Bowditch. Lieutenant Belcher brought in a list of names from Richmond, of officers who had money there, in the hands of Quartermaster Moffatt. Mine was among them. A man escaped to-day by jumping over the fence behind the privy. Day pleasant.
October 20 — The railroad ride that our Yankee friends so kindly furnished us last night was wearisome in the extreme, as we were shipped in box cars and had to strew ourselves on the floor like hogs. The night was cold and chilly, and although I tried to sleep some on the train, and knocked faithfully and perseveringly at the gates of dreamland, they failed to yield even for a respectable doze. At the Relay House, sometime about midnight, our train was side-tracked for about two hours, and in that time nine heavy freight trains passed us going west; our Yankee guard told us that the trains were all laden with supplies for General Sheridan’s army.
Little before day we arrived in the suburbs of Baltimore, left our box car cage and were marched to Fort McHenry, where we were turned into the fort yard like a herd of cattle. Then and there I unrolled my bed, and sunk down on Mother Earth to snatch a little sleep and have a few pleasant dreams about the thick gloriousness that floats around Uncle Sam’s prisoners of war. I slept until sunrise, and the first thing that my waking eyes beheld was a large three-masted ship, the City of New York, under full sail speeding like something alive across the harbor of Baltimore. That was the first ship I ever saw, and it was a beautiful and interesting sight; the thing moved as gracefully as a swan.
Fort McHenry is located on Whetstone Point near the City of Baltimore, and its guns command Baltimore Harbor. It is constructed of brick, and the present fort was built in 1799 and named in honor of James McHenry of Baltimore, who was President Washington’s first Secretary of War.
We remained in the fort grounds all day until this evening at sunset, when we boarded a little sidewheel steamer, name The Star.
October 20th.—Cloudy. There is a street rumor of a battle below, and on the Petersburg line. The wind is from the west, and yet we hear no guns.
The Secretary of the Treasury sent to the Secretary of War today an argument showing that, without a violation of the Constitution, clerks appointed to places created by Congress cannot be removed. We shall see what the Secretary says to that.
October—We have got the smallpox in prison, and from six to twelve are taken out dead daily. We can buy from prisoners rats, 25 cents each, killed and dressed. Quite a number of our boys have gone into the rat business. On the 11th of this month there were 800 sick prisoners sent South on parole.
