The boys came out this morning, looking a little the worse
for wear, lame, sore and stiff; but with a good bumper of whiskey to lubricate
their stiffened joints, and a little stirring around to take the kinks out of
their legs, a good breakfast, hot coffee, etc., they soon resumed their normal
condition. There is not much doing today except lying around in quarters or
looking over the town. Negroes are coming in by the hundred, and the city is
full of soldiers and marines traveling about and having things pretty much
their own way. Guards are sent out to patrol the streets and assist Capt. Dan,
the provost marshal, in preserving order preparatory to putting on a provost
guard and bringing the city under law and order. Some enterprising party has
hoisted the old flag on the spire of the church on Pollock street. There let it
proudly wave; let it catch the first beams of the morning, and let the last
rays of the setting sun linger and play amid its folds; let it gladden the
hearts of every lover of liberty and loyalty, and let it be a notice to these
deluded and ill-advised people around here, that it will never again give place
to their traitorous rag of secession.
SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass.
Volunteer Infantry, p. 46-7
No comments:
Post a Comment