Busy from 4 A. M.
packing baggage, striking tents, and preparing to move. Baggage enormous and
extra; great delays; great stew. Our new Irish quartermaster — a failure so
far. Got off about 11 A. M., in a great shower. I rode backwards and forwards;
got wet; weather hot after the showers; face and nose, softened by the rain,
begin to scorch; a peeling time in prospect. Still it was novel, scenery fine.
Blackberries beyond all experience line the road; road good. Camped at night in
a meadow by the road. Rain-storm soon followed. Many put up no tents; wearied
with the day's march, they threw themselves on the ground and slept through. I
got wet through trying to get them sheltered.
In the enemy's
country, although all we meet are Union men. Many fancied threatening dangers
in all novel sights. A broken limb in a tree top was thought to be a spy
looking down into the camp; fires were seen; men riding by were scouts of the
enemy, etc., etc.
SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and
Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 47
No comments:
Post a Comment