An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones, 6th Battery, Wisconsin Artillery.

Chattanooga, Thursday, June 8. A very hot day. Health very good. Nothing new, one way or another. Received a letter from Thomas which he called “last.” Expects me home in a few days. All those whose terms of service expire prior to October 1, are being mustered out at this post except artillery reserve. We are treated with silent contempt or provoking indifference, at least no orders touching us appear.

Chattanooga, Wednesday, June 7. Rained a very little last night but not enough to settle the dust. Battery went out to drill, I was on post at the time. Johnny Evans called to bid good-bye, they started for Nashville to-day. Very sultry in midday. I was allowed to sit in the shade and watch the guns, an accommodation seldom granted by officers.

Chattanooga, Tuesday, June 6. A short foot drill in the morning. On guard at night. Has been an awful hot day. A good deal of “muster-out talk.” Lieutenant Simpson received a captain’s commission this morning. No one dissatisfied.

Chattanooga, Monday, June 5. All well. No drill. Orders from Mendenhall to graze from 9 A. M. till 5 P. M., an idea which is preposterous, as the horses would scatter over the whole state if not held. J. G. Simpson, officer of the day. His watch ran slow while in camp, and then it went a-whirring. Started out about 10 A. M., dinner in haversack, crossed the ridge, turned out in a delightful nook among the hills, shady and cool, ate our hard-tack by the cooling spring, and returned to camp by 2 P. M. Drew clothing. Hope it is the last time for me. Wrote two long letters. Am tired.

Chattanooga, Sunday, June 4. Inspection 8 A. M. after which Griffith having a pass for three men to pass through the lines, D. J. D. and myself started out. Went by the 1st Cavalry camp which was about three miles down the valley, found Johnny and started forth along the ridge. Found many ripe blackberries and had all we wanted of ripe cherries from the “old man’s” orchard. Then we climbed the memorable ridge and followed the summit of Tunnel Hill. Then retraced our steps to camp. Passed Charlie’s artillery garden. Looks well, everything kept for the benefit of the shoulder straps of the reserve, though. The privates for whose benefit they claim to have started it, are forgotten. Left Johnny at the picket post, he to his command and we to ours. Reached camp by 5 P. M. somewhat tired but well satisfied with the ramble of the day. Cannot write to John, though. I am sorry.

Chattanooga, Saturday, June 3. A hot day for drill in the morning. 1st Division Cavalry Corps lying in camp near Mission Ridge. David Evans went outside and brought in Johnny Evans, looking very fleshy and healthy, natural as ever, but much larger. He staid with us all day. Went home late in the evening. He has seen the elephant, although only in for one year service. I think it has improved him, instilled some wholesome ideas in his mind. Policed camp as usual. No orders for mustering out any of us yet. Rations are very objectionable these days, and cause much dissatisfaction as circumstances do not demand such living. But it will not be long.

Chattanooga, Friday, June 2. Friday morning drilled with Battery for two hours. Very hot indeed. Big mail came in. I received three letters, one of them from Miss Sue J. B. of Ohio, of which I must write before it gets later. About a month ago I obtained a Ladies’ Repository with some other magazines from the Christian Commission, on which was written a note with the above address annexed. Thought it no more than justice to thank the donor, and assure her that their efforts were duly appreciated by the soldier. Contrary to my expectations I received an answer requesting a reply, which of course I complied with at some length, giving personal description. And so here comes two sheets to-day. I think she is a “Methodist sister” in the habit of itinerating with her brother, a minister. She forgot to give her age, notwithstanding I gave her mine, consequently I infer she is an old maid. Not very highly accomplished in letter writing, but a good composer and a fine use of language and a vivid conception of the beautiful. Seems to have received a very favorable impression of me. I did not attempt it. I have revolutionized her ideas.

Chattanooga, Thursday, June 1. This day is appointed by the President of the United States as a day of mourning for our honored Lincoln. All business stopped in town. Nothing only heavy duty to be done in camp, consequently we had little to do.

After dinner, hearing that Wilson’s Cavalry were moving through town, I obtained permission to leave camp. Being anxious to see the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry and find Johnny Evans if possible. Reached there as the 2nd Division was moving up Market Street. They presented a rich scene for Harper’s Illustrated, nearly the whole company were astride mules of all sizes and descriptions, the men having but a small portion of the blue on. Anyone would take them for the Confederate States Army. The majority dressed throughout in coarse dirty grey, and often a pair of faded shoulder straps could be seen resting on the shoulders of one in rebel grey and gilt. Then came the negroes, pack mules, carrying anything from a frying pan to a condemned ordnance. Vehicles of chivalric origin drawn by horseflesh, minus the flesh, in silver-mounted harness, and driven by the veritable “peculiar institutions”, for whom our Southern brethern buckled on their armor. It needed but Jeff in crinoline bringing up the rear, to show the last of the said chivalry. McCook’s Division in which is 1st Wisconsin Cavalry was behind. After waiting long I found that they were not coming in to-night so I started home, but not until hearing from one of his comrades that Johnny was all right and well.

To-night I am on another eight hours tread, not to break the rebellion, but my time of serving.

Chattanooga, Wednesday, May 31. Had a pleasant drill with the Battery this morning. No mail, but much grape-vine news via “picket rope line”, but we have not started for home yet. Drew the “last” forage for the 10th time. Drilled an hour and a half over some dismantled pieces. Bathed in the Tennessee in the evening.