Col. Fisk seized the freight house at the depot. It was
about 200 feet long and was stowed just as full of hard bread as it could be
packed; so he had a good large force of men detailed to clear the house and
myself to take charge of it. Our occupation was changed from killing men to
killing rats. We soon discovered that some of the boxes had rat holes gnawed in
them and the bread most all eaten out. By and by we began to see rats. There
were two or three little rat terriers running around and they began to see them
too. Then they caught two or three. That nearly set them wild, so that every
box that was moved they stood ready for the rats. Other dogs came, so that we
had ten or a dozen dogs before we got through: but as we proceeded the rats
would retreat, so that by the time we got half way through they began to be
pretty plentiful. The dogs would not eat them, but as fast as they would kill one
they would snatch up another; then the boys would pile them up, and at the
final wind up it became a circus. The dogs had all they could do. Of course we
did not count them, but the number ran into the hundreds. As the men had slept
the night before in wet clothes, I went to the quartermaster and told him I
wanted some whiskey for the men; he told me to get what I wanted, and said
there was a pail. I got a pail full, and had the men fall in, in one rank, and
carried the pail along and told them to drink all they wanted. Some of them
would fill their cup pretty full, but they were equal to the occasion. Then I
marched them back to their quarters, and broke ranks before the medicine began
to take effect. However, I did not see any one any the worse for it. Sheetiron
ranges were put in for each company, and they had good comfortable quarters.
Most of the officers found accommodations at the hotel.
SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from
a Soldier's Diary, p. 137-8
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