Chattanooga, Saturday, March 11. 8 A. M. Assembly sounded and our work apportioned out, I among the digging squad. Worked all day quite hard, but I was not tired at night for the line was opened, and our mail came 10 A. M. with seven big letters for me, so many that I could hardly find time to read them. Mother is much better, John writes. Clothing has been issued, the prices of which have gone up wonderfully. Had to don a jacket to the tune of $9.00 or more. We have also pup tents in the Quartermaster’s tents.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones, 6th Battery, Wisconsin Artillery.
Chattanooga, Friday, March 10. Last night, 8 P. M., I was relieved in heavy rain. At midnight I entered my tent white with snow, and this morning 6 A. M. pinched through with cold, everything frozen hard and very cold, but the sun soon warmed us up a little. Griffith gone off on guard to Major’s headquarters, the others on duty. I alone had nothing to do all day, and I had some trouble to amuse myself without mail.
The forenoon I passed reading an excellent volume entitled The Hills of the Shatmuck a story in which the characters were noted for high purposes and aims and pure moral interest, a rare exception among novels, but the book was finished and all the afternoon was given to thinking and day dreaming. I too once, like “Winthrop,” longed to pluck the precious fruits of knowledge and prepare myself for something high and ennobling. But the time that I once wished to be spent in the school room and among books, I have freely devoted to my country. But he, in spite of obstacles, kept his aim towards the desired point, and accomplished it nobly. Cannot I too learn much that is to be learned, and is there not a niche somewhere in this free country that I may occupy yet with profit to myself and others? “I’ll not give up! No grim despair shall ever forge a chain for me.” And I’ll try to do my best though humble it may be.
Chattanooga, Thursday, March 9. Weather unsettled. On guard, second relief. Health very good, but there are no trains from the North yet to cheer the drooping spirits. After guard-mounting, the camp assembly sounded and the whole Company put to work. Kept at it all day, some putting up houses, others setting posts for stables.
Chattanooga, Wednesday, March 8. Another dark day with considerable rain but not enough to keep us within doors. Have been shoveling hard all day leveling off stable grounds and am tired. Will say “no mail” and then good-night.
Chattanooga, Tuesday, March 7. A gray, cheerless day, and my feelings were very much the same. Somehow or other a feeling of sadness and seriousness settled upon me, that in spite of all my efforts I could not shake. I am very severely troubled with such, and feel as though I ought not to, but I suppose the great cause is the non-arrival of mail, none having come in since Friday.
Bridges swept off north of Stevenson by the flood which is making sad work here also. The Tennessee has risen above its high and rocky banks, and throws its watery arm clear around Chattanooga, leaving us on an island. Inhabitants on the banks have to flee to the hills for safety. Where a week ago we could see four extensive saw mills erected and used by the government, throwing out thousands of feet of lumber and shingles per day, is now one watery waste, a turbid torrent rolling with relentless fury to form with the mighty Father of Waters. Work is plenty in camp. Policed ground for stables this afternoon, etc.
Chattanooga, Monday, March 6. Quite cold and windy, health is excellent. Sergeant Hutchinson and five men left this morning to go to the hills, and stay a week chopping timber for quarters and stables. Busy in camp also, hewing logs and putting them up. One completed, six logs high, and 12 x 18 feet. Myself and two others sent with axes to Major Mendenhall, commanding reserve artillery, to chop his fire wood. Worked about an hour and were relieved.
There is but one source of discontent in camp, and that is short rations. Bread does not near hold out, although I think that we get the prescribed rations full. A day’s rations is always eaten in two meals, and as all are out of money to buy extra, it is severely felt. I urgently recommend to Congress that it speedily rectify the mistake they made when they reduced the soldiers’ rations and raised his pay. But our mess have plenty by selling sugar which we do not need and buy bread stuff. Griff got a peck of meal to-day.
Chattanooga, Sunday, March 5. A most beautiful day, too good to lay in camp. Attended church. Joined the Bible class in chapel of Christian Commission, where we had a spirited discussion as to whether we are ever justifiable in disobeying the divine law in order to conform with the law of the land. Most took the old Abolitionist view of it. After class listened to good sermon. Text, “What is Man”, by one of the agents. Met Lieutenant Silsby, very sociably inclined. Returned to camp to enjoy a soldier’s dinner. Wrote to John and read a sermon of H. W. Beecher, much better than the delivered one.
Chattanooga, Saturday, March 4. Heavy thunder and lightning last night, with the rain pouring down while I was walking my muddy beat. To-day it cleared up a little. Heavy detail after timber. Another to work in camp hewing logs. Policed camp in the afternoon. This is the day on which Abraham Lincoln is to be inaugurated. President for the second time. After four years tempestuous sailing ‘mid terrible breakers he has carried the good old ship of state through. May his second voyage know more sunshine, and be as successful as before. News is meager. Rumors of the evacuation of Richmond and Petersburg follow up the confirmation of the fall of the rebellious Charleston.
Chattanooga, Friday, March 3. On guard. Very wet day. Rained all day and night. Mail arrived with a letter from T. L. All very well with the exception of dear mother. She still is suffering severely. How much longer can her frail nature withstand it? It is hard to give her up here and never more to see her loving face. Must she go without welcoming her Jenk’s return? But still I feel it would be better for her to leave her troubles and sufferings, and go to the land where her treasures are, there to enjoy endless day.
Chattanooga, Thursday, March 2. Rained fine and constant all night and all day, but we are dry and comfortable in our bed of sawdust. Read Tennyson’s new poem Enoch Arden this forenoon, and think it one of the finest poems I have ever read in English. Wrote to T. L. and read an old Atlantic Monthly in the afternoon. No mail for me.
