Huntsville, Wednesday, March 2. A very cold night, the wind whistling through the cracks of our shebang. Slept almost cold. Ground froze hard in the morning. The morning air dry and clear. On guard. Mounted at 9 A. M. Third relief. No one put in guard house. L. Leach, under guard, who has been confined for sixteen days in this miserable noisy hole for a trifling crime, but he stood it with resignation. Obliged to watch him in his slumber during the weary hours of the night. After relieved, lay beside my charge and slept.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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