Camp Union, Monday, December 16, 1861. — A beautiful day. Rode with Colonel Scammon to Townsend’s Ferry. That is we rode to the top of the cliffs on New River; thence with six men of Company B we scrambled down by the path to the river, perhaps by the path three-quarters of a mile. A steep rocky gorge, a rushing river, the high precipices, all together make a romantic scene.
It was here we intended to cross with General Schenck’s brigade to cut off Floyd’s retreat. Boats were prepared, four skiffs brought from Cincinnati, but the river rose, just as we were about to cross, making it impossible. It has always been a question since whether the enemy were aware of our purpose and would have opposed our crossing. I supposed that so much work preparing could not have escaped their notice, and that they were ready for us. Opposition on such a path would have been fatal. From all I saw at the ferry, I am inclined to think they knew nothing of our purpose. There are no signs of pickets or ambuscades to be found on this side. The distance from the river to this village is only two miles and we could probably have taken it and held it.
The bold enterprises are the successful ones. Take counsel of hopes rather than of fears to win in this business.
