Summit Pt., 7 P. M., Sept. 5, 1864.
This evening in a very heavy rain our wagons came up, and I
am now snugly ensconced in a tent on top of my red blankets. How are “yous all”
feeling about public affairs? I am growing more hopeful daily, — Atlanta falls
very opportunely, Early has not got back into Maryland, and I hope Sheridan
will not let him go there. By the way, I like Sheridan immensely. Whether he
succeeds or fails, he is the first General I have seen who puts as much heart
and time and thought into his work as if he were doing it for his own exclusive
profit. He works like a mill-owner or an iron-master, not like a
soldier, — never sleeps, never worries, is never cross, but isn't afraid to
come down on a man who deserves it. Mosby has been “too many” for him again
however, and has taken some more ambulances, — the fault of subordinates who
will send trains without proper escort. Good-night; this is a mere scrawl, to
tell you that the enemy did not attack but seems to have fallen back once more
to Winchester. Good-night; it's only eight o'clock, but you know how unfresh I
was this A. M. and I have had no nap all day, — but don't suppose from that
that I'm sick!
SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of
Charles Russell Lowell, p. 336-7
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