Sunday, 20. — Rained four or five hours, part very violently. I fear we can’t cross Piney. Sent to Piney; find it too high to cross teams, but not so high as to preclude the hope that it will run down in a few hours after the rain stops falling.
A cold rain coming; men sing, laugh, and keep mirthful. I poke about from [the] major’s tent to my own, listen to yarns, crack jokes, and the like. Avery won a knife and fifty cents of Dr. McCurdy (a cool-head Presbyterian) today at (what is it?) freezing poker! The doctor couldn’t play himself and sent for Bottsford to play his game. This, Sunday! Queer antics this life plays with steady habits!
Received by Fitch, Company E, a Commercial of 16th. Pittsburg battle not a decided victory. Beauregard in a note to Grant asks permission to bury his dead; says that in view of the reinforcements received by Grant and the fatigue of his men after two days’ hard fighting, “he deemed it his duty to withdraw his army from the scene of the conflict.” This is proof enough that the enemy was repulsed. But that is all. Two or three Ohio regiments were disgraced; [the] Seventy-seventh mustered out of service, [the] Seventy-first has its colors taken from it, etc., etc Lieutenant De Charmes, the brother of Lucy’s friend, killed.
What a day this is! Cold rain, deep mud, and “Ned to pay.” Cold and gusty. Will it snow now?
