Petersburg, Va., May 8, 1865.
I’ll take back all I ever said against the Potomac Army. I have been down to Fort Steadman to-day and troops who will work up to an enemy as they did there, will do anything if handled right. There were some sad sights along that part of the line. Right in front of Steadman 40 or 50 of our men are lying with only a few shovelfuls of dirt thrown over them, their heads and feet exposed. I passed through the Rebel burying ground, quite a large and thickly settled village. Poor fellows. I wish the leaders who led or rather pushed them into these little clay hills were all beside them. This is a nice town, not very pretty though. Good deal of business done. Hundreds of Rebel officers, Lieutenant General Gordon among them, walk the streets in full uniform.
Monday, 8th—We started at 7 a. m., and while passing through Petersburg by platoons, were reviewed by General Ord, in command at Petersburg. The Fifteenth Corps had to pass through the city in our rear. We crossed the Appomattox river at 9 a. m. and went into bivouac six miles out from Petersburg, making a march of only eight miles for the day. Petersburg is a lively place; business is going on regularly. The people are at work repairing the damages done by the war, and are even erecting new buildings. It is a fine city with beautiful country around, although badly cut up with fortifications. The town was strongly fortified.
8th. Left on the 8 A. M. train. Reached Columbus at 2 P. M. Went up to Capitol and ascertained that Nettleton had been commissioned Col. and Seward’s commission revoked. Wrote home and to Uncle Albert. Rained. Looked around the city a little.
May 8th. 1865.
Two weeks today we arrived in sight of Washington, from our year’s campaign, crowned, this time, with victory. Why the impatience with which I await my discharge? I wonder, am I homesick, at this late day, just on the point of going home?
I certainly am not well; it is equally true I can think of naught but home. But, I am better than when I came; therefore I will write it down—impatience.
There are rumors of grand reviews, triumphal processions, and all the rest of it; and our flag, too, must have all the various battles in which we were engaged inscribed upon it. And officers are in no hurry to lay aside their trappings. Why should they be? It clothes them with authority which, lain aside, they never more can wear.
Chattanooga, Monday, May 8. The cooling rain drops have been falling in a refreshing shower all day. Have done my guard duty once more. How many more times must I go on before I will be relieved from this machine life? Will my mind ever be allowed to dictate the movements of the body again? I hope so. I have received an interesting letter from my old bunk mate, Evie. Have written him two full sheets in return.
