An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones

Brownsboro, Ala., Friday, Jan. 8. Arose in good time, while it was broad daylight, and found that one of the party had his hat burned up during the night. An inch of snow on the ground, and it was chillingly cold. But a small portion of the train came up last night, therefore did not move until nearly noon. The roads were slippery and hard to travel. E. W. E. and I took the R. R. After a hard march of ten miles we reached Brownsboro at 4 P. M. on Flint River, the terminus of the R. R. communications as yet. Here we found the boys that had come through on the cars. Cooked our supper by their fires and went in search of shelter for the night. Seven of us in the squad found a cotton patch in the middle of a dense forest with a cotton pen. Built a crib of rails, crammed a foot of cotton into it and covered with the rubbers. The wagon road seen on the opposite side of a range of mountains, and the Brigade had not yet come up. Nigger Henry had kindly taken my blankets on his horse in the morning and was now with the Battery. We could hear the rattle of the wagons coming in from a distance, and as I was in much need of my blankets I started to meet them, but found they had camped three-quarters of a mile back. Climbed a little hill and the hundreds of fires burned brightly in the distance, whither I turned myself. Wandered through the city of lights some time before I found the Battery, found my blankets, thanked Henry for carrying them, and turned my steps towards my bedfellow in the woods. Taking a bee line, I thought to find them there. I tugged through a dense thicket of briar and underbrush, scratched my face, tearing my clothes, and in water to the tops of my boots most of the time. It was very dark, but still I kept on certain of finding them. Suddenly the light blazed up before me and I found them going to bed at 9 P. M. I was tired out and footsore.