LXXIV
WE are once more out here at famous old Manassas. We left Alexandria Saturday afternoon, marching eight or nine miles in the direction of Fairfax Court House. Sunday we got in seventeen miles and camped by the side of Bull Run creek. Yesterday forenoon we marched up here—about three miles—and by night had our canvas city of little shelter tents set up and in good running order. Bill Ramsdell and I hitched up together, and we have got as cozy and comfortable a mansion as one could desire. There is any quantity of stuff lying around loose, and we had no difficulty in finding canvas to close up one end of the tent and boards enough to floor it. Then we got a quantity of hay for bedding, and what more could we wish for? We expect our big Sibley tents along soon, but Bill and I are well enough off as we are.
You know the rebel army occupied this place last winter and strongly fortified it. Their fortifications are on every side, very rough, but very strong, and now covered with weeds. But a little ways from our camp, littering the railroad tracks and the ground on either side, is the wreckage of the railroad trains destroyed by Jackson in the raid that culminated in the last Bull Run battle. In some places are great piles of shovel blades, in others carbines—in fact, almost everything in the shape of army supplies and equipments—nothing left but the irons. Near by are the rebel log barracks, which we are tearing down for firewood. We have the entire division, now commanded by Sickles, here at Manassas, with about thirty pieces of artillery. I presume we will stay here some time, although it will depend in a great measure upon the movements of the main army. I see the mail bag has just gone out, so there is no chance for this to go today. I hear, also, that there are lots of apples outside our picket line, and I am going out to see about it.