Right Bank Roanoke river, Robbin’s Ferry, N. C.
May 3, 1865.
About 20 miles to-day and the latter fourth quite dusty. We did not get the main road, and have depended mainly on hog paths. The Roanoke is the largest stream we have crossed since leaving the Tennessee river, and is quite swift. The water is also colder than any we have found this march. We have not pontoons enough to reach across and will have to press ferryboats and skiffs, etc., to use as pontoons. Presume it will take all night to get up a bridge. We pontooned the Neuse when we crossed it the last time in one and one-half hours. As we crossed the Raleigh and Gorton Railroad today, saw a train of cars coming kiting along. Expect communication is open to Raleigh by this time. We are marching too hard. It is using up lots of men. Good country today. Many fine houses and every indication of wealth.
Chattanooga, Wednesday, May 3. Went on guard last night at sunset, acting as corporal of the guard. Was on duty from 12 P. M. to 12 M. more fatiguing I think than to stand on post. Went to town this afternoon. Found the town guarded exclusively by negro troops white troops retired this morning. They must intend to dispense with some of us soon. My health is good. News is sought with great eagerness. There are but few cents of money in camp, and one paper often goes into every shanty.
Wednesday, 3d—We started at 5 a. m. and marched twenty miles today. Crops look fine. There are a great many rebel soldiers throughout the country here, who have just returned from the armies of Johnston and Lee. Our army, for the first time, is passing through the country without destroying property.
3rd. Cousin Minnie and I stood and sat for pictures. Had a jolly time. Minnie over at our house a portion of the day. Am enjoying my visit with Cousin first rate.
May 3 — The whole camp registered to-day for the purpose of taking the oath of allegiance to the United States. It seems that the war is over outside of the prison, but we are kept here and treated just as we have been before the war closed; it looks a little like as if the Yanks are afraid to turn us loose.
