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

Chattanooga, Tuesday, May 9. Very much pleasanter after yesterday’s rain. Drilled to-day in camp twice. No orders disposing of us poor “critters” received yet, although much expected. Great dissatisfaction exists among the veterans in regard to the government mustering out all the sick soldiers, recruits, etc. except the veterans. It is not right, I think. They came out first and have been the means of bringing about this happy end, and they should be the first to receive the reward, I think. We have been eating hard-tack for the last two days, and I find myself suffering from the change. My system, weakened from living on inadequate food, is not vigorous enough to digest it, hence the return of diarrhea.

Chattanooga, Monday, May 8. The cooling rain drops have been falling in a refreshing shower all day. Have done my guard duty once more. How many more times must I go on before I will be relieved from this machine life? Will my mind ever be allowed to dictate the movements of the body again? I hope so. I have received an interesting letter from my old bunk mate, Evie. Have written him two full sheets in return.

Chattanooga, Sunday, May 7. A very hot day, still dusty. Had the usual morning inspection. Grazed in the afternoon. Camp more quiet than it has been for some days. Wrote a letter to John and Hannah. Mounted guard at retreat, as corporal this time again, Hayes sick. Pound nice patch of ripe strawberries to-day.

Chattanooga, Saturday, May 6. No rain yet to settle the dust, which has been flying in blinding clouds all day, very hot and sultry. Policed camp and stables this afternoon instead of drill. “What is the news” is yet the cry, and stray bits of rumors are caught and devoured with avidity.

Chattanooga, Friday, May 5. No rain to cool the terrible air or lay the dust, which flies in heavy clouds, reminding one very vividly of old Spring Green prairie. Have been very busy all day, could not find time to write a letter. 7 A. M. went out for brigade drill by Major Mendenhall, but he did not come, so we had an interesting drill of our own. A. Sweet is bringing the Company up to its old Rienzi standard in drilling. Great strife among the detachments, both trying to come into battery first. Second piece is ready first every time. Returned to camp by 11, another hour in column to water and back.

After dinner went out to Mission Ridge after wood, two wagons and four men. At the picket post our gallant driver took up two of the fair ones, who after enjoying their quid of tobacco silently for a mile or so, said the ride “holped ’em right smart.” Drilled two hours after supper. Ration day. Drew two days’ rations of bread and three of hard-tack, no more soft bread to be issued. They want us to eat the surplus hard-tack. This is considered significant.

Chattanooga, Thursday, May 4. A very hot, sultry day. Another battery drill this morning under Lieutenant Sweet. Still the excitement runs high. Grape-vine telegraph is very productive. Every hour through the day has its “special items.” Bets run high, with stakes mostly “something good to eat” after the “muster out.” The situation is yet unclouded, and I can see nothing to prevent us from being sent home soon. Bathed in the Tennessee River in the evening, drilled on the gun after supper. Looks like rain, hope it will and cool the air.

Chattanooga, Wednesday, May 3. Went on guard last night at sunset, acting as corporal of the guard. Was on duty from 12 P. M. to 12 M. more fatiguing I think than to stand on post. Went to town this afternoon. Found the town guarded exclusively by negro troops white troops retired this morning. They must intend to dispense with some of us soon. My health is good. News is sought with great eagerness. There are but few cents of money in camp, and one paper often goes into every shanty.

Chattanooga, Tuesday, May 2. The sun arose in all its majesty, promising a splendid day. After breakfast Landen and George Spencer were going on top of Lookout. They had a pass for three, and invited me to go along. Having a great desire to visit, I was soon before the officer of the day, thence to Captain Hood, and the request granted. With a loaf of bread and tin cup in my haversack, we started.

Delayed till 8 A. M. waiting for pass to go through picket lines. Two miles brisk walking brought us to the base of the mountain which looked much more formidable there than from camp. We made the ascent on the military road which has been blasted and macadamized by Uncle Sam. It ran zigzag along the east slope of the hill, and not too steep to drive a team quite readily. Patiently we trudged along around massive piles of eternal rocks and past beautiful rustic springs of pure cold water, gushing from solid rocks, partly fixed by the hand of man for the accommodation of man and beast. The road was lined on both sides with heavy foliage of living green, with an occasional opening, through which we could look back on the map-like plat of Chattanooga, with its well-laid camps, and cool our heated brows with the cool refreshing breezes.

Up and up we go, ever and anon we pass a notice by the engineer, giving the elevation above the Tennessee and the distance up to the top. For over two hours we tugged upwards, our enthusiasm somewhat abated by the fatigue, but finally we reached the summit. A sentinel with white gloves and glistening brass, a “true regular” demanded to see our pass. We were now two miles or more from the point which overlooks the town. Here was quite a town called Summer Town with a large tavern, stables, etc. Evidently this was once a great pleasure resort in the summer season for the aristocracy. Here also were extensive hospital buildings erected by the U.S., accommodating I should judge, over 5,000 sick. Also the camp of the Regular Brigade quartered here for over a year.

But time was precious and we pushed on toward the west side of the mountain which is about a mile and a half across, through a heavy growth of timber with a beautiful variety of wild flowers. Before noon we stood on the grounds where Hooker and his men won immortal fame in November, 1863. Directly beneath us we could see the remains of the camp in Lookout Valley. On the further side of the valley was a train of cars leaving Sequatchie Station, looking very diminutive like a child’s plaything. On the parapet we walked around the craggy points towards the Point, passing several heavy lines of rebel earthworks. ‘Tis astounding how men could ever fight on such precipitous rocks. By a most lovely spring gushing over the very brink we seated ourselves in the refreshing shade of a sycamore, and ate our dinner with keen relish.

Now we stood on the veritable point, 1600 feet above high water mark of the Tennessee, 200 feet straight down the rocks. The scene from this place was the grandest I have ever seen, and may be the most extensive I may ever see again. Chattanooga looked very regular and flat, Mission Ridge dwindled down to an apparent flat, and miles beyond it was but one flat ocean of green timber. Off to the east the eye could distinguish four distinct ranges of mountains beyond the Mission Ridge, the last being the obscure Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, undoubtedly sixty miles distant. To the northeast the view was much further, nothing to intercept the vision as far as the naked eye could reach. We could look over into Western Virginia and East Tennessee, and imagine all kinds of things of the human beings scattered along. To the west and north the eye had not as wide a range, the Cumberland Mountains being as high, if not higher, but could easily see Alabama in that way. Five different states of our now almost happy Union from one place. Watered by the creek-like Tennessee River, which made a double slant, to the foot of the mountain, leaving the point of land on the opposite side in the exact shape of a huge foot, hence the name “Moccasin Point”, where Thomas’s batteries were so hotly engaged with Lookout during Bragg’s siege.

Here we found a photograph gallery erected on the jut of a rock—takes pictures of objects on an adjoining point, $6.00 per dozen. He has many very beautiful plates of the mountain scenery, prominent among them is the Lula Falls and Lake about six miles south of the summit; but one day’s furlough would not grant us the pleasure of visiting it, so we commenced the descent in the nearest direction, which appeared but a short distance. For a while we went directly downward through the seam in the rock, then by aid of trees and shrubs we kept up with ourselves. Down, down we went, but yet no bottom, often obliged to rest. An hour’s walk brought us to the bottom, and thankful for it. We wended our way to camp, tired but well satisfied with our excursion.

We reached camp by 5 P. M. Found everything quiet. Nobody mustered out as yet but much talk of it. 18th Ohio Battery and brigade of infantry taken to Dalton to-day by Steedman. I understand he has made several attempts at negotiations with rebel General Wofford, but failed. He is now to resort to strenuous measures.

Chattanooga, Monday, May 1. May Day, and I begin another book in good health and splendid spirits. Went out on brigade drill this morning 8 A. M. Four horse batteries drilled under Major Mendenhall, our chief. Maneuvered on the nice green flat south of Fort Phelps. The loud voices of command and the clamor of the bugles, attracted many spectators. The drill passed off pleasantly and instructive. The 6th Battery under Lieutenant Sweet did as well as the best. Reached camp by dinner time.

Never was our camp fuller of grape-vine rumors than now, and I never knew soldiers under greater excitement. The vague orders of the War Department in relation to reducing expenses and mustering out the army, gives all the ground of believing in a speedy discharge, consequently a hundred different speculations exist. I don’t feel any peculiar exhilaration, but like the rest, I cannot stay long in a place but go about to hear and talk. Ed Hayes and I procured a section of the mine laid in bottom of the Tennessee River to Bridgeport during Bragg’s siege, this afternoon. Quite a curiosity.