July 21.—We intend leaving to-morrow, and are now at Dr. Taylor’s house; he is a surgeon in the army, and for some time was one of our patients. Mrs. Hodges, who is keeping house for him, has very kindly invited us to remain with her until we leave, as all our household things have been sent to the train.
I rode out this afternoon, in company with Dr. Burt, and paid a visit to the Twenty-fourth Alabama Regiment. There I saw Lieutenant Chamberlane, now captain, and Captain Fowler, whom I met in Okolona. The regiment was encamped in a grove of trees; it had a few tents for the officers and commissary stores. The only protection the men have from inclement weather is their blankets put on sticks about three feet high.
The men were busy preparing supper, and I did not think looked altogether pleased at my visiting them, as their attire and employment is not such as they would wish them to be. But there is more true glory in their dress than all the gilt lace, brass buttons, and holiday attire usually worn by fireside soldiers, and in their work, than if they had scores of attendants to do it for them.
I could not help contrasting this camp with the one I last visited. It was when the war first commenced, and our house had been emptied of furniture to put in the tents, as we thought it impossible for men to do without certain things which they had been accustomed to at home. Since then they have learned a few lessons, in this respect, as we all have.
I saw this regiment when it first went into active service, not more than a year ago; it was then a large regiment, and now a mere fragment answers to the roll-call.
Yesterday Mrs. W. and I visited the soldiers’ grave-yard. That hallowed spot! There reposes the dust of men from every state in the South. There is naught to mark the places where these heroes sleep, save slight mounds of earth; at the head of each is a small piece of wood, numbered. But it matters little that no marble monument is there, for
“What hallows ground where heroes sleep?
‘T is not the sculptured piles you heap!”
No; it is a nation’s tears and grateful benedictions which make their last resting place a sacred spot . By their grateful country they shall ever be remembered.
“Forget them not; though now their name
Be but a mournful sound;
Though by the hearth its utterance claim
A stillness round.
The holy dead! O, blessed we are
That we may call them so,
And to their image look afar,
Through all our woe!”
The head-board I had put at Mr. Barstow’s grave was quite conspicuous. The inscription had been put on so strangely, that I could scarcely make sense out of it. I feel confident that no one will take the artist for a pupil of Lindley Murray’s.
There were two others: one erected by some kind friend; the other I had put at the head of Mr. Davis’s grave, at his father’s request.
We returned by way of the river. The scenery on its banks is really enchanting.
“Not Katrine, in her mirror blue,
Gives back the shaggy bonks more true,”
than does the Tennessee the lofty and rugged hills that look down upon its placid waters.
We saw many of our men at work on the fortifications; they looked well, and were cheerful. They seemed to have little faith that their work would amount to any thing, and said they would not be at all surprised if by to-morrow they were ordered to evacuate Chattanooga, and that they were only given the work to do for fear they might forget how it was done. We intend taking two girls from here with us. They are orphans; neither of them can read. The eldest is nineteen years of age, the other sixteen. They begged so very hard for us to take them along. I am in hopes we can be of some service to them by teaching them.
I regret leaving Chattanooga as the army is here, but its movements are very uncertain; perhaps before many days we may be much nearer it than we care for, although Dr. Stout does not seem to think so, as he is having another new hospital erected at Camp Direction. I do not know why, but few persons think that General Bragg intends holding this place.
