Nashville, Wednesday, Nov. 30. 8 A. M. In position awaiting Hood. Unexpectedly were ordered last night at 7 P. M. to pack up blankets and knapsacks, ready to move at a moment's warning. Playfully did we proceed to obey, thinking we would not move, only a "scare as usual". But immediately we were ordered to strike tents and a host of mules with their dusky drivers came, and we thought it was big enough to move us this time. The other batteries were under similar orders. The long-eared animals were fastened on. Our tents and "dear little stoves" were piled up, and with but little delay we pulled up and started toward town, the first battery out of Camp Barry.

Marched through town via muddy streets and dark alleys, till finally we halted about a mile and a half north of town facing northwest with a wide open plain before us, having come about five miles. Here we came into line and our uncouth transportation left us. It was 11 P. M. when we laid down 'neath a placid and beautiful, starry sky. The jests and laughs went round for some time before the hilarious spirits were overcome by sleepiness.

This morning we arose to find four more batteries in position and everything quiet. Aligned our guns forming an obtuse angle, facing the northwest. Two of the batteries have gone to camp. We have had our breakfast. Long strings of citizens, government employees, etc. are winding their way to the front with shovel, pick and wheelbarrow, to throw up earthworks about half a mile in our front. As yet we have but little expectation of fighting but they may come, and it is best to be ready. I am to act as No. 6 and I will try to do my duty as well as possible.

Twilight. The day has gone by quietly, no sound or sight of battle yet. Some thirty transports have arrived from Paducah loaded with General Smith's veterans, amongst them the glorious 8th and 10th Wisconsin. The unanimous desire of all is that they come and give us fight. We are posted on the middle reserve line, and it is doubtful for us whether they could come within our reach, were they to try it. The orders are to move four rods to the right, sleep at our posts and be up at 4 A. M. Corporals Ray and Hill with detachments out of our Battery man two guns of the 10th Ohio on our left. In spite of "war's threatening aspect" we have had to-day a pleasing remembrance of home in the shape of roast turkey and other goodies sent to Milt. for Thanksgiving dinner.

Fort Gillem, Tenn., Thursday, Dec. 1. After a refreshing sleep in the open air of heaven, we were again awakened 4 A. M. to wait and watch the batteries. The day is exceedingly hot, more like September than December. We hear of a heavy battle yesterday at Franklin, eighteen miles distant. Reports say, that the enemy were severely punished, but the maneuvering here seems to indicate preparations for fight. Night is again with us after a day of inactivity. With the last rays of the setting sun, a string of mules again came to move us, and we are taken a half mile west, and left near Fort Gillem in disorder. Ordered to sleep as best we can in places of our own choice.

Fort Gillem, Friday, Dec. 2. Slept on boards inside the fort last night, guns outside. A gentle rain fell in the after part of the night, but not enough to penetrate our blankets. All our camp and garrison equipage brought here during the night, and pitched tents this morning. Luckily our stove was saved, and it now gives us comfort. Wet and rainy all day. The fort is garrisoned by 14th Ohio Battery and 10th Tennessee Infantry, a splendid work.

We lay just outside yet. 10th Ohio Battery boys have come back from river, thereby relieving us from their guns. We know nothing definite of Hood and his forces. He is reported to be moving on to Murfreesboro. He has thought it best not to try Nashville, after his signal defeat at Franklin on the 30th. Our foes are fallen back and are now in line of battle about three miles from town. Artillery firing has been distinctly heard this afternoon. Mail received and "Good News from Home"; all well.

After night I walked out and had a splendid view of our camp in the dark, which is always to me a grand and sublime sight. About a mile and a half from us the advance line string from one hill to another as far as we can see on either side, stretching from water to water, with their countless fires. Would that I had the artist's skill to represent this scene with its seas of glittering starlike fires. And when I think of the thousands of brave boys that gather around them, patiently awaiting the foe, it becomes sacred to me and fills my soul with reverence to the Supreme Being that holds our destiny in His hands.

Fort Gillem, Saturday, Dec. 3. Our rest was unbroken. The day was very wet and camp muddy. Still we await a general engagement, and active preparations are taken to receive him, [the enemy]. Every hour he delays renders his chances of success more uncertain. Strong forts are going up on every knoll connected by rifle pits thrown up in genuine military order, and all of the citizens are out at work. Government employees arrive and drill daily. The rebel skirmish line is under Fort Negley this afternoon and Hood's movements are still uncertain. A large force has gone up the Cumberland, and if they don't look out, they will be in their rear.

This evening we could see artillery smoke on the left about sundown. Fort Gillem has been worked at all day and is fast approaching completion. Every platform is ready, room for thirteen guns, only six guns in now, but seven outside. Captain Hood is in command of the fort.

And now I cannot close to-day's record without a word of the disgusting influence around us. Our camp is right by a liquor saloon, which is sold indiscriminately. Nearly all of a neighboring regiment are beastly drunk, and with their unearthly yells and maniac demonstrations are making the air hideous. Our own Battery also presents a sad sight. Last night —— was helplessly drunk. To-day our ——. Both good officers when temptation is removed. Oh, why will not our officers put a stop to this demoralization, but on the contrary, a guard is furnished this den of the devil to protect it in its wicked work.

Fort Gillem, Sunday, Dec. 4. It is now 9 A. M. Have had a restless night of it. Scarcely had we closed our eyes to sleep, ere we were aroused by the orderly, "pack up and get ready to march immediately". Thirty-five men under Lieutenant Simpson going to move some guns somewhere. First Section out as soon as possible. We start under Sergeant Malish with our blankets and haversacks, leaving Sergeant James to come after us with knapsacks and tents. After marching on almost double quick for nearly two hours not knowing exactly where we went, we arrived at a half-finished bastion on the second line near our original camp. Lieutenant Simpson was there, but the guns had not arrived. Three of the boys unable to keep up with us were yet behind, and of course knew not where to find us. Men were appointed to pilot them hither, and the rest laid down at 11 P. M. Had not gotten asleep before we were again called out to unload forty-eight boxes of ammunition and get our knapsacks, the wagons having come. It was now midnight and we saw the flash of artillery firing, followed by the subdued report very frequently. Once more we took our boots off (ordered not to take any more off) and slept.

A very little before this, guns arrived, five twelve-pounders, five arsenals, three to stay here, two to go with Sergeant James a quarter of a mile to the right. Rolled up blankets, slung knapsacks, and started with him. It was dark and chilly, arising suddenly from sleep had chilled me through and I shivered terribly. Still frequent reports of cannon could be heard, but we hardly noticed that. Half past 2 A. M. we again had our blankets unrolled and slept. Half past four, as near as we could guess, I was aroused to take my turn on guard, one hour apiece. Cedar rails were abundant and were used without compunction. I kept very comfortable, meditating on the now dimly flickering camp fires, almost ghastly.

While on post I heard the reveille sounded in an adjoining camp. Men hastily hurried out, officers running to and fro, and they start out on double quick, marching by our sleeping boys. Nothing could be heard but the officers, big and small, yelling out "Close up, close up, boys, double quick", and such hasty commands, I knew it was a new regiment. Yes, it was the 142nd Indiana. They will get over that yet. Other old regiments followed, but they went still and quietly. When I guessed it was an hour I woke up the next turn, and for the fourth time crawled close to my sleeping bedfellow. The morning sun shone brightly when I again awoke, and I must be up, but ah! how sleepy I felt. Griff has made some tea, and we have had bread and butter for breakfast. Workmen are coming fast to throw up works for us. I have heard no firing yet. We are but half a mile from Fort Gillem. We put up tents, etc.

It is now bedtime. The day has passed wearily, watching the employees grudgingly throw up their works for our guns. Artillery firing has been kept up all day from Fort Negley. We could not hear infantry firing. This is the second line being made very strong, but the works are lined with cedar rails which I don't like at all. It is apt to splinter if struck by artillery.

Every moment of delay lessens Hood's chances of success. This evening mail came in. I received two from brother and sister. I am very sleepy and tired. I hope we will not be disturbed to-night.

Fort Gillem, Monday, Dec. 5. This forenoon a repetition of yesterday. Surrounded by dissatisfied employees who are working on our defenses. They are completed, seven feet high and eight feet thick on top. When settled will be proof against field artillery. The usual amount of firing on our front, shelling working parties. They throw up works within five hundred yards of our line, but never dare to reply to our artillery.

2 P. M. a detachment of the 1st Missouri Artillery relieved us, and we returned to our old camp. Guns are all in the fort. Very pleasant weather. Health is good. The only trouble is we eat up our rations faster than they come.

Fort Gillem, Tuesday, Dec. 6. A pleasant day. Nothing startling. Artillery firing and skirmishing as usual. Some of our boys have been to the post line, report the enemy still throwing up works for artillery and infantry. Camp is full of wild rumors about Forrest's venture against Nashville, but it is not reliable. Trains arrived from the North as usual. Wrote to Hannah this afternoon. Captain Hood has received orders to draw horses. This indicates work ahead of us.

Fort Gillem, Wednesday, Dec. 7. Gunboats fired very briskly last night for a while. Washed my clothes this morning. 11 A. M. ordered to prepare to go after horses, eleven men from each platoon to draw eighty-four horses. But we could get only forty-five, being all there were, most of them very good ones. I rode a young colt to camp. Others will take care of them. Happily I am no driver now.

Having heard so much of the grand display of new scenery in the new theatre, Griff obtained permission for us to attend. Arrived there before the doors were open. The rush was very great, the street crowded clear across. When the doors opened I was borne on other legs than my own up two flights of stairs. Still the rush carried me on into the gallery which was soon filled to overflowing. Many failed to get admittance. Here we had to wait half an hour for the curtains to rise, which were filled by the most boisterous and rude demonstrations. I did not like it. But when the curtains arose all was silent. The play was the Naiad Queen, or Fairies under the Rhine, a meaningless piece, but the most brilliant and beautiful scenes I have ever seen. Dark grottos with their rocks and caverns inhabited by beautiful fairy-like creatures. Thunder and snaky lightning was wonderfully depicted. Water with boats gliding back and forth, by means of glass. Scenery was truly beautiful. Then came an army of Amazons. The best scene represented the region of bliss, with hollows and fountains, on which was thrown a dazzling light. This is the third time I have ever visited such scenes. I came to judge for myself, is it right or wrong? Although there are some things connected with these that are exceptional and unadvisable, still I consider it not only an innocent amusement, but instructive, much better for the morals of the young than the saloons, clubs, meetings, etc. Liquor and tobacco fumes are apt to be the chief claim. The only danger is that in the theater will be spent time, which ought to be spent elsewhere.

Fort Gillem, Thursday, Dec. 8. The weather that turned cold last evening is growing colder and colder. It is all we can do to keep warm. Clothing issued and I failed not to secure a great coat and other comforts. Wrote to John. There has been no firing of any consequence to-day. What does it mean, is asked by all. Is the weather too cold to fight, or is Hood gone? The latter seems to be the prevailing opinion in camp.

Fort Gillem, Friday, Dec. 9. It was difficult work to sleep warm last night, and we pitied the poor boys in the front ditches last night without fire or tents, with a foe in front.

As soon as breakfast was over I was detailed to go with Corporal Goodwin after wood. It began sleeting as we started and continued all day. We first went to the wood yard and found that surrounded by more teams than could load all day. Sent us a mile further to the boat landing where we found two barges nearly empty of wood, and about fifty wagons waiting, so we had to go home. I walked back through town, stopped on business, and returned after dinner, quite stiff with sleet, clothes all glazed with it. It is now snowing very fast. Wagons went out and brought in two loads of rails for fire wood.

J. Rogers returned to the Battery. He left us at Cartersville. All quiet on the lines. No mail. Health good.

Fort Gillem, Saturday, Dec. 10. Froze very hard last night. Two inches of crust on the ground, very slippery and the air is very cold. On guard. Post No. 1 in the front. Ration day. We only drew ³/₄. Things are very short here to-day. We have to buy a great deal. Many of the boys are out of money too. No demonstrations on the line as we know of. Perhaps it is too cold for the boys to fight as they have enough to do to keep warm.

Fort Gillem, Sunday, Dec. 11. To-day was a terrible reminder of old Wisconsin to us. Last night was the coldest night I ever stood on guard. Did not suffer much though on post. Kept up a rapid motion. I could not sleep much, tent too cold, having to sleep on the ground. The day was no warmer. All hands lay close inside with roaring fires in the stoves. Detail sent out this afternoon after more horses. Returned with thirty-nine. We have now eighty-four, all we need, and may expect marching orders next. Evening spent cheerfully reading, with cedar wood plenty in stove. It is freezing very hard out of doors.

Fort Gillem, Monday, Dec. 12. By laying up snug we kept warm last night. This morning the sun came out, and thawed a very little during the day. As notified last night, Griff and I were of the ten to go after wood with Sergeant Dziewanowski. Ate an early breakfast and started out. Reported to Powell's headquarters. He sent us to a piece of wood on Hillsboro Pike, which was once the woodland park of some church, now to be cut down by the artillery. Permission granted by General Thomas. I am not a big chopper, but I chopped "big" for a while. Teams took one load to camp and came back for the others. Returned 2 P. M. Beans and coffee disposed of by appreciative appetites.

All the pikes leading to the front are filled with cavalry, apparently waiting for the cloak of darkness to hide their deeds. We hear of a big fight at Murfreesboro. Rosecrans captured 6,000 prisoners, and is in their rear eight miles from here. Our troops on the front line are under marching orders. Two days' rations in haversacks, I think. The time is near at hand when Hood will be beautifully, though terribly thrashed for his insolence in thus invading Tennessee, at least I hope so. We are in anticipation of moving too. The "fates" may miss us this time.

Fort Gillem, Tuesday, Dec. 13. On guard. The icy frost that encased everything has been wholly removed, and we can now move around without "slipping up". But it is getting very wet and muddy. Our horses are having a bad time of it. They all grow poor fast without stables. Firing on the picket line is once more heard, at times very briskly. Fort Negley indulged in a few shots this evening. The cavalry have gone into camp inside the line, three divisions of them.

A big mail arrived 4 P. M., the first in five days. I received one from home. It brought commissions to Alba and S. Sweet as second lieutenants in 6th Battery, merited promotion—and ratified by all the boys who will now have two temperate officers at least.

Fort Gillem, Wednesday, Dec. 14. Reveille sounded this morning at 4 A. M. and at daylight the whole Company was marched off on detail except guards. I was on post. They went to unload shakes and poles for stable from a barge. They worked hard all day without any dinner. Returned to eat a hearty supper. Weather very foggy and misty all day. The mud is unfathomable and camp is very disagreeable. It was expected that a general engagement would come off to-day, but Thomas is waiting for more favorable weather, it is reported, to move artillery. Considerable firing from forts. Considerable curiosity manifested as to who will be appointed in the vacancy caused by the promotion of the Sweet boys.

Fort Gillem, Thursday, Dec. 15. Much dissatisfaction was expressed this morning by the Company when —— entered upon the duties of orderly sergeant. This is doing great injustice to the other sergeants that were his superior in rank, and any of them better qualified, and would receive more respect from the boys, none of whom like ——. The privates of the volunteer army are men of judgment, and will use it in spite of red tape and military discipline. Would it not be much wiser then, to allow them to have a voice in choosing their officers? Certainly they would be easier controlled. First Sergeant Malish is quartermaster sergeant.

The day has been warm and mild but the mud not much improved. 14th Ohio Battery that were with us here marched at 4 A. M. As expected, heavy fighting has taken place to-day. Only artillery firing and skirmishing in the forenoon, but after dinner the heavy throbs of musketry mingled with the incessant roar of artillery. All the fighting has taken place on our left, near Forts Negley and Sigel about four miles off. And we laid around carelessly while our ears were filled with the terrible death notes of battle. So many times have we listened to it that they have almost ceased to quicken our pulse or awaken serious or earnest thoughts of the hundreds that are swept into eternity, at least of the many hearts that will bleed when the news of this battle reaches them, of the terrible suffering from ghastly wounds and bleeding limbs caused by it. Oh I cannot forget that war is terrible, and I cannot keep my mind from these saddening thoughts while these stern sounds fall upon my ear. Of the result we know nothing, but all accept success as the inevitable result. Before to-morrow morning we may be in the fight.

Fort Gillem, Friday, Dec. 16. Warm and wet night. Mud still increasing, but the battle progressed. Firing commenced at early dawn, and has continued with unabated fury till after dark. We lay quiet and undisturbed. There are nearly enough troops to hold Nashville against Hood's assault left unemployed around the reserve line. Twenty new regiments. It is the common opinion of all the Battery, that it has never listened to heavier and steadier artillery firing for so long a time. Once in a while the crash of musketry would be louder even than the artillery, and I could but shudder at the thought of how many must be falling in the charge, for they undoubtedly are. Fighting continues to recede. It seemed six miles off last night at sundown, but we have not heard anything definite. In the midst of this noise of the conflict I wrote to John. Detail of twenty men sent through the mud to Major's headquarters this afternoon and marched back again.

Fort Gillem, Saturday, Dec. 17. Rained terribly last night. The torrents filled our ditches and swept through the tent, under—or rather over—our bed, making it decidedly wet. Got up, ate hard-tack, and then laid down and slept, and took "wet sheet pack" bath at once. Griff on guard last night in the fort. Induced the infantry guard to let him carry off lumber enough for bunk under cover of the night, so we need not fear of wet bed any more. All is quiet this morning. The storm is over and the papers tell us of the glorious whipping which Hood received. Fifteen thousand prisoners and 30 cannon the work of yesterday. To-day he is flying demoralized. No excitement manifested over the news because it is only as everyone expected.

All the men that could be spared this morning marched under Captain Hood near Camp Barry and set to work digging post-holes for stables. David Evans and I were given axes and we "butted" poles all the forenoon. Chopped hard, and I was tired by dinner time. Did not go back after dinner. It is mud! muddier! muddiest!

Wintering at Nashville

I have been reading aloud the last evenings, Frances Kemble's Journal on a Georgia Plantation. To-night I finished it. How sickening and disgusting is the detail of this sin of slavery, and I thank God that a better day is dawning on the poor wronged African. What are the trials of camp life compared with the great work we are engaged in. I can cheerfully bear all the discomforts of a soldier's life for the overthrow of the monster evil.

Fort Gillem, Tuesday, Dec. 20. Everything froze up hard last night, and it was very cold. Suffered considerable on post. Griff and I wished to go to town, volunteered to load rations so as to go. Had to wait until late in the afternoon for our team. Drew hard-tack and salt junk. Visited Sanitary Commission rooms, obtained a good supply of reading matter. Bought stationery to write letters and returned to camp. It is turning warmer, rains again.

The papers tell us of the triumphant arrival of our gallant leader Sherman at the coast. Invests Savannah, and we expect to join him sooner or later. Beside this glorious success the utter defeat of his opponent and fellow raider, Hood, is insignificant. "The good time's coming." Eighteen teams out all the afternoon moving batteries.

Fort Gillem, Wednesday, Dec. 21. More rain last night, cold this morning. Griff attended to the domestic affairs, washed our dirty clothes, etc. In the afternoon I wrote two letters. Snowed and blustered considerable in the afternoon. Camp is very quiet. The ennui of a soldier's life is very heavy these disagreeable days, but we amuse ourselves by reading a great deal aloud. Two thousand five hundred more prisoners brought in to-day and corralled in jail yard.

Fort Gillem, Thursday, Dec. 22. A cold night. This morning everything frozen up hard and dry. Detailed to chop wood this forenoon, cold for my ears and bare hands. All the rest of the day staid close indoors.

Fort Gillem, Friday, Dec. 23. Clear and cold this morning. On guard again. The detail comes around quite often now. The privates' roll is decreasing as the officers' increases. Issued clothing. The topic is, are we included in the late order ordering all detachments belonging with Sherman to report immediately via New York? Would much like to take the trip, but would rather wait a couple of months.

Fort Gillem, Saturday, Dec. 24. A pleasant night on guard though rather cold. Thawed but little during the day. My health still continues very good. Camp is all hilarity over the good news from all quarters. It gives new hopes of the coming dawn. Father Abraham has called for 300,000 more troops. This is right, says the soldier. It shows no faltering or weakness of resolution on our part, while the Confederacy's brightest lights are wringing their hands in anguish and despondency. But it makes me sad that it once more threatens to deprive my loved parents of their solace and comfort. I pray God that my dear brothers be spared to stay with them in their old age.

It is Christmas Eve, and I am all alone. Dan and Milt have gone to town. Griff is on guard. Nobody to interrupt my quiet meditations, and I can but think of the many happy hearts that now beat in my Northern home, of those surrounded by friends and relatives and the influence of home. It is in striking contrast with our situation here, where time glides by so idly and it seems at times uselessly. I can hardly realize that it is really Christmas time, so associated is winter with snow and frozen ears and good times to me. It is hard to recognize it in this mud and rain with bare, frozen ground for days. But it is not always to be thus. I am as happy in anticipation of hard-tack and salt junk for to-morrow's dinner, as many that count on roast turkey and "fixings". And still many at home are not happy. I can fancy the heavy cloud that hangs over their hearts as they are anxiously awaiting the return of us from the field. Yes, they think of us morn, noon, and eve. May we be true to their memory and return with a clear conscience, unsullied by the vices of camp.

Fort Gillem, Sunday, Dec. 25. Christmas. A warm day, misty and muddy. All is quiet. Health very good. 8 A. M. had our regular Sunday morning inspection, after which Griff and I attended church. Were there in time for Sabbath school, went in and listened to the sweet melody "There is a Happy Land", and "Homeward Bound", which sounded very sweetly to my ear. Read the 2nd chapter of Matthew in concert, then went above to listen to a sermon from the 13th and 14th verses of the same chapter. The Calvinistic dogmas preached stronger than I ever listened to from an American pulpit. Did not like it at all.

Returned to feast on Irish potatoes, Uncle Sam's Christmas dinner. Mail received. Brought us news of a dinner having been started us from home. At night Griff and I attempted to while away the remaining hours by sundry attempts at singing, but we retired early, and the third Christmas in the army was gone.

Fort Gillem, Monday, Dec. 26. On detail for wood. Went out to our front line of works. Took the rails comprising the walls of the works that were never needed.

Captain Hood and two of the boys with mule wagons went to town early to look for the big box expected. We had just eaten a dinner of coffee and hard-tack when they arrived, and lo! the box, really a huge thing, was there, weighing nearly four hundred pounds. About twenty of the Spring Green boys interested, but all were permitted to taste something "from home". I received thirty lbs. of baked chickens, pies, small and big cakes made by Mary and Esther. Griff and D. also received a lot. The sweetmeats were soon eaten and distributed with little regard to health, and the chickens and nice rolls of butter took the place of our dishes in ammunition boxes. Dishes go under the bed. Such things are sweet to the soldier's unaccustomed palate, and rendered doubly so by the knowledge that they came from home, from the loved ones that are so anxiously noting our career and awaiting our return. Would that they at home could know the warm though rough thanks bestowed upon the donors. May God bless their thoughtfulness.

Fort Gillem, Tuesday, Dec. 27. A pleasant day. On guard, second relief. Detail off ditching new camp ground. Parker and John Rogers gone to the hospital, both quite sick.

Glorious news from Sherman. He presents Savannah as a Christmas gift to Old Abe, which reminds me of our Christmas dinner, none the less appreciated because a day behind hand. The hard-tack on which we have lived since the first of the month laid to-day untouched, also the "sow belly", as chicken, cake and butter were the dishes. It is the theme of much "music" in camp. Spring Green gets the praise. Sanitary [Commission], the next best thing to a box from home, gave us several onions apiece. May their labors be rewarded. Bridge burned between here and Louisville. No mail.

Nashville, Wednesday, Dec. 28. Struck tents 8 A. M. and moved on the Harding Pike nearer town. I was left behind to load the teams as they returned after camp equipage, boards, etc. Guarded the new camp by 3 P. M. Was agreeably surprised to find them busy at work building quarters, raising their tents. Shakes three feet long furnished to be nailed up and down. I fell in too, and by night we had the tent stretched on a neat wall three feet high. Was quite tired. Our horses are stabled about a quarter of a mile off in government stables, making it very inconvenient for drivers. Griff over with them on guard all day. Ordered to be ready for grand inspection by Major Welker.

Nashville, Thursday, Dec. 29. Last night was bitter cold. Most of us suffered severely, being but poorly fixed, but the sun came out a little this morning, warming us a little. To-day has presented another of those [scenes] that can nowhere be found outside the soldiers' camp, when everybody is busy acting as his own carpenter, mason, cabinet maker. All have to meet their own wants and busily have we all worked. We have got our bunks up, one above the other. I went to town this afternoon after an additional length of pipe to reach through the tent. Everybody is in good spirits over the good news. Rumors prevalent that we are soon to start for Sherman.

Nashville, Friday, Dec. 30. A warm, misty day, little rain. Found time to-day to write a couple of letters. Mail came in but none for me. Health of all is very good, though great dissatisfaction prevails in regard to rations. Only a little over half rations of hard-tack given us. They call it post rations, not enough to satisfy the appetites of those who have been used to live on fighting rations. "Anywhere but Nashville" is the cry.

Nashville, Saturday, Dec. 31. Surprised to find the ground covered with snow and very cold. Formed with overcoats on at 9:30 A. M. for muster for pay. Hope we will get it soon. Boys all very flat. "Busted". I commence a New Year with a light heart and a lighter locker. On guard. Luckily on the guns, so I did not have to go to the stables. So the last thing I did in 1864 was to stand guard, and the first thing in 1865. Trust it is not going to be so always.

Another year has rolled past and joined the many gone before in the vistas of the past. Its glorious deeds of valor and achievements, its scenes of anguish and bloodshed, of wrong and oppression, are subjects for the future historian. Its ever varying scenes and emotions are indelibly impressed upon my mind, which death alone can efface. The snow has clothed the earth in a lovely mantle of white as though to hide the sad past, and offer a clear page for me in the coming year. Let me then look forward with hope and determination to keep in the path of virtue and right, striving to improve the blessings and privileges offered me, so that when 1865 closes I need not look back with regret at the year spent.

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 1, 1865. New Year's morning dawned bitter cold. I suffered terribly on guard last night. A heavy impenetrable mist, such as I have nowhere seen except in Nashville, enveloped the earth till 9 A. M. freezing in icy down upon everything. When I came off post I looked more like some ghostly spectre in white than a soldier in blue. Rations very short in camp, but we had a big New Year's dinner of soft bread and butter, pies and Spring Green cake of Miss Spencer's make. This evening I received a letter from my faithful brother John. He wrote in the midst of the festivities of a Christmas visit.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 2. Weather is growing warmer, the snow melting and it is growing very muddy. All the talk is about "going to Sherman". Preparatory orders are issued and we expect to start within two weeks. Lieutenant Simpson left us to-day, gone to artillery headquarters as ordnance officer. He is a good officer but lacks energy. He goes with the best wishes of the boys.

Nashville, Tuesday, Jan. 3. A quiet day. Weather much warmer. Probabilities of going to Sherman lessening. General Thomas has protested against our leaving. Put up harness racks this afternoon. Big mail bringing me several papers, reading matter for the evening. Our new lieutenants mustered. Corporals Goodwin and Proctor made sergeants to fill their vacancies. T. C. Jackson and W. B. Jacobs, veterans, made corporals. All worthy appointments.

Nashville, Wednesday, Jan. 4. A very mild day. Camp is getting muddy again. Chopping wood all the forenoon. Relieved this afternoon by an extra duty squad who failed to turn out to roll call this morning. Estimated for clothing. Don't know what the news is, got no money to buy a paper. A large back mail received, having been to Savannah and back. Amongst it I was very "tickled" to find my long-looked-for socks and gloves, so nicely knit, with a billet in each bearing the love of the maker. They make me truly warm by thinking of whence they came.

Nashville, Thursday, Jan. 5. Froze a little last night. Very muddy to-day. On guard, same old story in camp. Getting monotonous. Received a letter from Thomas and from an old Battery chum. Drew soft bread rations, a pleasant change. Clothing issued. Captain Hood got a grand military problem through his brain to-day by changing sergeants, placing ranking ones on the right of each section. Rather a fine addition to army regulations I think. This took Sergeant James away from us to 1st Platoon. Dan Goodwin takes his place. 2nd Platoon hates to see him go. Our new "non-coms" appeared in stripes.

Nashville, Friday, Jan. 6. Disagreeable and rainy night. On guard. Wet slushy day. Spent it pleasantly writing and reading Ballou's Monthly, received from Sanitary Commission. A little difficulty occurred in camp to-day. Quartermaster Malish visited stables. Found B. Reynolds refusing duty as guard. Ordered Dziewanowski, sergeant of the guard, to "tie him up" which he refused to do. It was reported to Captain Hood and ended in reducing "Coly" to the ranks, appointing Corporal Hutchinson sergeant of the 3rd Platoon, Ed Hayes corporal.

Nashville, Saturday, Jan. 7. Turned cold last night. Snowed and blew wickedly. The day seemed very long to me. Did hope to get a letter to-day, but was disappointed. The theme of discussion in camp is the reduction of "Coly". He was a favorite of the boys, and as he lost his position by favoring one of our number, we can but sympathize with him. He is an ambitious young man, but got entangled in "red tape" and fell. This is the second reduction since I have been in the Battery, more noticed because unfrequent. Health good. Ate our last bit of butter for supper. We must now forget home luxuries once more. The bread rations hold out well. So far so good.

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 8. Froze very hard last night. Inspection 8:30 A. M. As soon as Griff was relieved from guard, 9 A. M., we started to church by permission. Listened to a very good sermon from a Christian Commission agent in M. E. Church.

Reached camp 2 P. M. Nobody at home, and we spent a very pensive afternoon, or at least I did. Many of our best men are coming down with the diarrhea. Parker of the next tent was very sick all day. Such things make me sad. But when the mail came bringing me that ever encouraging sheet from John, my spirits somewhat revived, and I found much to be thankful for. My health is unimpaired. Why should I pine? I will not.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 9. Rain, rain!—all day without cessation. Was on detail all the forenoon chopping wood. Got quite wet and felt unwell. Symptoms of dumb ague.

Nashville, Tuesday, Jan. 10. On guard. Stood about sixty rods from camp on a pile of shakes in a cold disagreeable rain, the wind blowing furiously. I still feel very bad, unfit to stand guard but will try to stand now that I have commenced it.

Nashville, Saturday, Jan. 14. Sickness has prevented me from writing the last three days. Wednesday morning while on post from 3 to 5 A. M. I was taken with violent chills and ague, continuing nearly the two hours I was on. Every muscle and sinew in me was wracked, while I stood in a driving wind and freezing rain. Never did I suffer so much from "shaking" but I did not call for relief till my time was up. It was with difficulty that I staggered to my bunk where a furious fever set in and raged very high. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday part of the time delirious, but I was the object of all the care that could be bestowed on me under the circumstances, Cousin Griffith filling as nearly as he could the place of mother and sister. Last evening the fever left me. Bathed and felt somewhat refreshed. Spent a very restless night, my whole muscular system seemed charged with pain, but this morning it eased off, and I find myself thickly covered with feverish looking pimples. They say it is "fever rash." Doctor came 9 A. M., looked dubious about something, but left with the injunction to "go slow". About 10 A. M. I dressed and wrote a short letter home. I feel very weak, but the pain has all left me.

Nashville, Sunday, Jan. 15. Felt pretty smart this morning. Up and ate quite a breakfast. The eruptions much larger, feel a little sore. Doctor came to see me after dinner and has pronounced it a case of varioloid. Ordered us to keep the boys all out of the tent, and my tent-mates to go and be vaccinated. I was much surprised at the announcement, as I was not conscious of ever being exposed, and even yet a little incredulous, but if this is smallpox I can stand it. While I have been sick, our nice lot of horses have been turned over, also all of the harness, and it is said we are to draw muskets soon to do guard duty in town.

Nashville, Monday, Jan. 16. In camp. I still feel pretty well. My throat is very sore. Postules begin to fill and turn white, guess it is smallpox. I am ordered to the smallpox hospital, and am now awaiting the ambulance. I must leave everything, as I could bring nothing away. I feel sorry to leave the boys but would not stay to spread the contagion among them. So, dear Journal, I must bid you good-bye until I return. God grant that it may not be long. I anticipate but a short siege, am astonished to find it so easy thus far. Adieu.

Nashville, Monday, Feb. 6. Back in camp. Mr. Journal, I have returned after just three weeks' absence and now hasten to resume my story. As the sun was setting in the west the ambulance came for me. Wrapped in a single blanket, I left my old comrades while they were drawing muskets and making a great noise over it. I was ushered into ward 7 with its long row of low cots, most of them occupied by men with very sore looking faces, but I had seen too many such to allow my heart to sink. I was clothed in hospital clothes and tucked into bed, where I lay for twelve days. In a few days the postules filled up, raised very large and were very painful. As I lay every inch of me seemed as though on fire. The doctor would come (a kind-hearted man) and call it "a very pretty case", the postules being very large and thick too. I suffered no internal pain, but for a while the external agony was very great, and I longed for a cool drink of water, but was denied it.

About the 23rd my face was swollen so as to completely close my eyes and exclude the light of day for about twenty-four hours, which with matter and heat, I feared, would affect them, and in vain did I plead with the nurse to bathe them with a little water, until the doctor came next morning, which was a priceless relief. When they began to dry I recovered very fast. By keeping strict discipline on my finger nails, I was soon covered with scabs large enough for an alligator, and in due time [they] shelled off in my bed. The weather now was very cold and I suffered some in spite of half a dozen blankets. No visitors were allowed, but Griffith (kind soul, can I ever forget him) came often to the gate bringing my mail and written comments from himself, which I was permitted to answer. By keeping a lead pencil under my pillow, wrote several letters thus, home, contrary to orders, but I knew their anxiety.

Saturday, the 28th 3 P. M. the doctor pronounced me able to get up and my clothes were brought to me. I was astonished to find myself so weak. A few minutes after, two soldiers were announced at the gate with a message for me, and I staggered out to see Griff and D. Evans, which did me much good, but I had to return very soon. I gained now very fast, notwithstanding a bad cold. Monday, tent-mate Dan brought in with same malady.

Tuesday, I was sent to convalescent ward to make room for the influx. Over 500 patients in now. From 8 to 12 die daily. I was put on guard first night, six hours at a stretch to guard Rebs. Had the same every night. I began to get very lonesome soon. Had to fight terribly with the blues, much more than when in bed, and to-day, in answer to urgent request and Captain's application, Doctor let me off. Took a bath, a new suit of clothes, and here I am. Feel quite weak, but happy to be once more amongst my comrades. Hospital life is not the life for me. Very grateful am I that I have recovered so well. Will be marked considerably, but who cares for that?

Nashville, Tuesday, Feb. 7. The ground is covered with two inches of snow and everything frozen hard, very cold. Feel very well except a severe cold that has been on me for a week. Our boys are doing guard duty with muskets in town, that they drew the day I left. Twelve men go to town every day. They do it with ill grace. Half of them return to camp ere their tour is half out.

Nashville, Wednesday, Feb. 8. Weather still continues cold. Orderly asked me to-day if I was fit for duty. I told him I was too weak for much duty, but would do all I could. Feel quite bad to-night. Bones and head ache, could eat but little supper. Wrote several letters.

Nashville, Thursday, Feb. 9. No warmer; feel no better. Received a letter from the Valley with the sad, sad news that my dear mother had again been very sick. But thank kind Providence she was improving. I pray that she may be wholly restored ere this.

Nashville, Friday, Feb. 10. Last night I had another visit from that evil genius that seems to hover over my very existence, the ague. I shook briskly for about an hour and a half, but it was not followed by a very heavy fever. Got up to breakfast. Found that Keeler had called my name for supernumerary guard. I did not feel able for duty, but as the boys have such heavy duty on every other day, I could not refuse to do all I could, so I went and drew me a musket and turned out to guard-mount. Oh! how ferocious I did look with my brass plates and fixed bayonet. Griff gone to town on guard. The mail has just brought me a letter from John which says Mother is improving, but yet suffering severely.