June 11, 1864.
Colonel Wright and I rode out to the front to-day. The Johnnies are about one and one-half miles from us, and occupying what looks like a very strong position. Rumor says that Sherman has said that he can force them to leave here any moment, but will wait for supplies and the roads to dry up. The cars got to Big Shanty about noon to-day, and indulged in a long and hilarious shriek. The Rebel locomotive about two miles further down the road answered with a yell of defiance.
I hear to-day that the 23d Corps took 2,000 prisoners and two cannon. I guess its yes. Rosencrans is actually coming, they say. I don’t think we need him. Sherman moves very cautiously, and everybody feels the utmost confidence in him. I saw him yesterday—seems to me he is getting fleshy. He don’t look as though he had anything more important than a 40-acre farm to attend to.
It has rained almost all day. You musn’t expect me to write anything but military now, for it is about all we think of.
