October 27th.
Everything remains precisely as it was three days ago. We are not allowed to leave camp, at least beyond bugle call. Our guns must be kept in perfect order, ready for instant use. Artillery horses wear their harness night and day. In fact, we are ready for attack, advance or retreat at a minute’s notice. Each morning the cavalry goes to the front, skirmish with the enemy, watch their movements through the day and return to camp at night. Matters wear a strange aspect; the Rebels seem playing with us; now advancing, now retiring. I know not what to think of the way things are working.