After eating our
scanty breakfast of hard-tack and coffee, the bugle is sounded and we saddle up
and are on our way, taking the road towards Adamsville via Shiloh
and Crump's Landing; about nine o'clock we pass a portion of the great
battle-field of Shiloh, the place where the gallant General Prentiss stood so
long fighting as it were against hope. A melancholy stillness pervades the
whole command while passing this great battle field, for we remember that
comrades sleep here. Oh! how vividly the day, the hour, the evening, comes to
our minds when we saw them fall in the fierce struggle for the mastery. As we
emerge from the dreary wilderness, where so many Union warriors lie sleeping,
we are wont to say in the language of Tom Moore:
At noon we arrive at
Adamsville, but no rebels are found; i. e. hostile ones. Everything seems
quiet. We halt, feed, and eat our dinners. War has also made its mark here.
From appearances this has been in former times a thriving little village; but
alas! how different now. Three o'clock, we pass through Purdy and move on
towards Corinth; we halt on Gravel Hill and go into camp for the night. The
boys soon sally forth, and after being gone awhile return with plenty of oats
and roasting-ears, upon which the mules and men make their supper.
