July 3d, 1863.
We are encamped six
miles from Haines Bluff, on a ridge of ground, in a perfect wilderness. I have
hardly seen level ground enough, in this State, for a regiment to camp on. I
find blackberries in abundance, and, therefore, am content. They have formed a
large share of my diet, and have been both food and medicine. Scurvy and
diarrhea have entirely disappeared. That which we most need and cannot get is
pure water. The streams have all run dry, and unless it rains soon, every
spring within reach of us will fail. Water is now so scarce every regiment
except the Seventeenth has placed a guard over its own spring, and will not
allow others to use it. If we stay here long, we will be compelled to dig
wells.
We are now twelve
miles from Vicksburg and eight miles from the Big Black. I can still hear the
thunder of artillery, morning and eve, at the former place. If Grant celebrates
the Fourth inside of Vicksburg, as report says he intends to do, he must do
something decisive soon. He may be doing that very thing this minute. When I
began writing, his cannon kept up a continual roar. It has almost ceased. Perhaps
he is now storming their works.
Our men are still
throwing up fortifications. The whole country for fifteen miles around
Vicksburg is little less than a fortification. The inhabitants around here did
not run away at our approach. Most of them are intensely loyal just now. The
reports of want and destitution with which the papers are filled, and which I
doubted, are true. Many families draw all their supplies from our
Quartermaster. Soon all must do so.
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