An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones.

Madison, Tuesday, Aug. 26. I got partially rested by my short sleep, but I was awake long ere the rising of the sun. I awoke to a different scene to which had hitherto been my lot. Instead of the lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep, was the rattle of the drum and the “hooray” of the volunteers. To-day we were examined by the surgeon and went up-town for the purpose of drawing our bounty money, but the press of business was too large, and we were put off till the next day. In the evening I had to bid good-bye to my brother John, who had accompanied me to camp. It was a difficult task—my constant companion in labor, my adviser and counsel in everything. I had to part. It seemed as if I was like a ship on sea without a compass, without other safeguard than my own firmness and weight.