August 7. [September]—We arrived at Dalton about 6 P.M., and expect to be detained here all night. I must say this last move has not made me the better Christian, for I certainly love my enemies less than ever.
I can not count the trains that are with us; they are so many. On them are all the hospitals which were in Ringgold— sick, attendants, and much of the furniture. We have left all our bunks. We are in a box-car, and in it are not less than twenty-five persons, besides bedding, trunks, tables, chairs, etc.
Our journey from the Springs to Ringgold was a laughable one. We had two wagons, one filled far above its sides with baggage of all kinds; on top of all was seated Mrs. A., her children, servant, and Mrs. W. I took my seat with them, but it was a higher position than I had been accustomed to, and I was fearful of having a downfall, in the way of a bath, as we had some of the worst kind of roads to go on, and a few streams to cross. Accordingly I made a trial of the other wagon; it contained Miss S. and two sick officers, Lieutenant P. and Dr. M. They were on mattresses. I managed to get a seat, and did very well. On leaving that beautiful spot, I could not help thinking of her who was the primitive cause of all our woe leaving the garden of Eden; I do not presume to think that the place was like that garden where sin had never entered to blight its beauties, which Milton has portrayed so beautifully; a place
“Where gods might dwell,
Or wander with delight.”
But it was a lovely spot, and I have no doubt came as near it as any other in this sin-stricken world. I had not, like Eve, “hoped to spend the respite of my days” there, but I did think we would be permitted to remain in it a little longer, and could not “patiently resign what so unjustly we had lost.”
Lieutenant Green asked to be raised up, to “cast one long lingering look behind,” and he exclaimed, “O, how beautiful! Is it not hard to be driven from it?”
