Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 13. The heavy rain of yesterday and last night still continued, and in the afternoon it rained much heavier with strong wind which drove it through the tents, rendering everything wet and uncomfortable. Wrote an imperfect letter to Sister Ellen in A. M. The remainder of the day spent in reading Gleason’s Companion which I luckily hit on. Comrades in tent playing “poker” all day “for fun”. Laid down at night in wet blankets and aching bones.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones, 6th Battery, Wisconsin Artillery.
Bridgeport, Saturday, Dec. 12. A misty morning which broke into rain, which drizzled all day, enough to make it sun-less and disagreeable outside and chilly in tent for want of fire. Bead “Honest Abe’s” Message, which in my estimation is true and honest, every word. The old Democrats in camp would like to criticize, but can’t find much fault. It is hard to put away party prejudices. Small mail arrived, but none for me.
Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 11. A most beautiful and delightful day, and all the boys merry and light-hearted as larks. It was expected last night that w should march to-day, but instead we policed camp. Our officers are making a sudden effort toward strict discipline so long neglected, that it is properly called “putting on style” now. C. —— put on a day’s extra duty under guard by order of Captain ——, more to glut vengeance than justice, I am afraid. Men put on extra duty for not attending roll-call.
Bridgeport, Thursday, Dec. 10. Sun so hot as to be quite warm. Much like a spring day in Wisconsin. Everybody lively and full of fun, troubled with nothing but “nothing to do”, which to me is a serious cup. Gambling among the indulging ones quite brisk. Watches and pens raffled for, etc. A chuckluck doing big business was surprised by a guard in Osterhaus’s camp this afternoon and the boys taken to the headquarters of the Division under guard. The idleness and monotony of camp is fearfully demoralizing to many, and inevitably leads to the gaming table if indulged in.
Bridgeport, Wednesday, Dee. 9. Rain ceased, sun appeared and the deep slushy mud soon dried up. After dinner I was detailed to help take horses to turn them over with Lieutenant Simpson. Took thirty-eight horses and three mules, crossed the bridge on to the island, and had to go up stream two miles to the corral. Its presence was manifested by the stench from far off from the carrion of the dead. They filled for acres the woods to a number almost incredible, starved to death. The corral-master was an old-looking man. We found him in an isolated clapboard house with only two or three inhabitants. He must enjoy the life of a hermit. The corral was a field of ten acres containing three thousand to four thousand head of mules and horses, all much pulled down for want of feed. It was sundown before we turned them over. Had three miles of bad road to camp. Walked it through the dark, lost our track several times. Found a good supper of fried beef and biscuit awaiting us. Spent evening in Griff’s tent listening to music of flute and vocal as discoursed by Byness, Parker, etc.
Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 8. A cold- rainy day, very disagreeable in camp; naturally thought much of home and its comforts. But we looked forward to the happy time coming when we will be permitted to join the circle on the old hearth stone and know war no more. May the day soon come. I am not impatient but anxious.
Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 7. Changed, washed, etc. in the forenoon. Wrote home in afternoon. All quiet in and around camp. Various rumors afloat as to our final destination for the winter. Generally supposed we are to open the road to Corinth. Fine weather for this time of the year.
Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 6. A beautiful Sabbath day. Air soft and balmy, camp remarkably quiet and still. Two large mails received, I the happy recipient of eight letters. Spent most of the day in writing a letter commenced the 1st to T. L., such is the difficulty of letter-writing in the army. Felt tired and worn out indeed and slept considerable of the day. Osterhaus’s Division came in and went into camp on our left.
Bridgeport, Saturday, Dec. 5. Had a fine night’s rest, also a fine breakfast of fried crackers and coffee. Evie borrowed the pan, I begged the salt, Dan the coffee, after which went up town, gathered waste grain and fed the famished horses. Ate a pie and water. 10 A. M. the batteries came in, having been obliged to leave their ammunition chest behind, and hard work to come at that. Eight of our horses died on the road. The road is lined on all sides with the dead horses and mules, having died of starvation. Went into camp east of town. Tents came in 3 P. M. Full rations for man and beast. Night found us comfortably quartered and “happy as lambs”, infantry singing “Rally, boys, rally” etc. They have just passed through a hard trip, no tents, got scant rations, and were half famished by the time they got here, but there was no grumbling or lagging, each marching cheerfully, parching his corn in the ashes, as corn is stuff to keep up strength; but such boys are invincible while on the field, as on the march, alike jolly and contented.
Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 4. Awoke at dawn, the ground was white with frost and blankets stiff, although we slept warm. The 12th Battery succeeded in getting over some time during the night. “Ned” gone from the tree. I started in search walking brisk for an hour over the hills and high brush to no avail. Found our boys in squads by fires, having suffered severely during the night. Most of them had no blankets. Returned. Evie started and soon returned astride a fine specimen in the shape of a “sorrel crowbait”, mane and tail closely shaven and points very prominent; but he could carry the harness, so he would do. No signs of moving with the batteries. We have nothing to eat, and by this time quite hungry, which induced us to push on in an independent squad. Two miles out found “Ned” standing innocently at a fire, held by an infantry man. Of course I traded. Passed the 1st and 2nd Brigade in camp, also the Division headquarters. Found grain on roadside near Whiteside. Halted to let horses eat. Passed by General Smith and Brigade. Captain Dillon halted and spoke gruffly to us, but finally rode on, and we followed after him. Made serious attempts to buy cornbread of citizens or hard-tack from trains going to the front, but failed. Joined by D. J. Davis, E. F. Hayes and W. H. H. Booth. We journeyed on together.
The sun was very warm, the frozen ground converted into mud. I was afoot. Noon came and hunger became more pointed. We halted to rest in sight of a camp, a brigade in winter quarters. “Council of war” held and the following program determined upon. E. W. E. and E. F. Hayes were to take the horses and go to the above-mentioned camp and procure something to eat regardless of expense, while we went to “Mica Jack Cave” to await their return. Visited this stupendous piece of God’s handiwork and proceeded into it as far as daylight would show us the way. A truly impressive scene, solid rock under one’s feet, pure crystal water trickling down its walls, streams fell from above on * * * of rock, which by constant trickling were now smooth and symmetrical. On all sides long ranges of leeches were arranged for saltpetre works. The earth out of which it was obtained was brought from the entrance of the cave, the best of it five miles, in barge vats at the mouth for boiling it down. At length the boys came, having succeeded to a charm, as they had a box of condemned crackers thrown aside (being mouldy) out of which they filled their haversacks, and which to us tasted sweeter than honey. We ate heartily and thankfully of these musty crackers and water from the cave, after which I felt much stronger.
Seven miles to Bridgeport, which we made easily by 4 P. M Endeavored to buy our supper, but the hungry boys of the 1st and 2nd Brigades had cleared the town. Waited until after night for the arrival of the rest of the boys, as we hoped they would have rations, but as they did not appear, D. J. D., E. W. E. and myself started in search of camping ground. It was very dark and we wandered across the large flat covered with logs, stumps and rifle pits in search of the camp of the 3rd Division, from one camp fire to another, until at last we found the train loaded with crackers. Dan succeeded in filling his haversack with crackers from behind a wagon. Honest, for a hungry man. Built a large fire by a dead tree, made our bed in the leaves, and after eating a few dry crackers, retired for the night, tired and rather lonesome.
