6 A. M., September 5,
1864.
I stopped here because supper was ready, and then it was
dark and the band played. Now I'm going to say Good morning,— it isn't real
Good morning nor even a fresh one, it's a limp Good morning — five
interruptions last night before one o'clock, and then a line from the General
that he anticipated an offensive movement this A. M. from the enemy, and that
we must be saddled, &c., at 3 A. M., So I had to order myself to be called
at half past two, and after all had to wake the sentry, instead of his waking
me. The consciousness that this would be the case cost me several wakes in
between, — and that's the reason I'm not fresh, though I have been duly shaving
and washing and brushing. Nothing “offensive” yet, — but I expect a fight
during the day, as the two armies are face to face in sight of each other. It
will be an affair of the infantry, however; the cavalry ended their work
yesterday, when they got the Rebs into position and reported them there.
And now good-bye. I'm going to move my camp about half a
mile, so as to make closer connection towards the left, — and it's raining, so
I shan't be able to write there probably. This, is writ in a barn which is my
Headquarters, — Headquarters Third Brigade, First Cavalry Division, — that's
the official name of the barn.
SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of
Charles Russell Lowell, p. 334-5
No comments:
Post a Comment