Diary of Musician David Lane, October 23, 1863— 7 p. m.

Loudon.  This has been a dismal day. It reminds me of the day we crossed the Potomac last fall. It began to rain at 5 o'clock this morning, and has rained all day, and there is every prospect of a wet night.

I never think of that fearful night without a thrill of horror. I marched all that day in the pelting rain, soaked to the skin, and when night came, weary as I was, I faced the fierce northern blasts until morning. I date all my suffering from that dreadful night.

Although this storm reminds me of that day, and, under similar circumstances would have been quite as unpleasant, yet I have passed it quite comfortably. My comrade and I have a good tent, each of us a blanket and rubber ponchos, which enables us to keep dry and warm. These rubbers are very useful. If overtaken by a storm while on the march, not only is the person kept dry, but his blankets and haversack. At night we spread it on the ground, and no moisture can reach the person.

But this storm; what will be its effect on military operations here? I confess to a feeling of anxiety; 1 fear we are to be again "stuck in the mud," as at Fredericksburg. If this is really the beginning of the rainy season, we can do but little more. And so much remains to be done. We must occupy and hold this railroad, or evacuate East Tennessee, and that right speedily. We can get supplies in no other way. There are not mules enough in the United States to haul our supplies over the mountains in the winter. In fact, now, when the roads, are comparatively good, it cannot be done. We have been on half rations ever since we crossed the mountains.

But away with such gloomy thoughts, and let faith and hope prevail. Tomorrow may bring forth light from this pall of darkness.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 110-1

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 27, 1863

Loudon.  Everything remains precisely as it was three days ago. We are not allowed to leave camp, at least beyond bugle call. Our guns must be kept in perfect order, ready for instant use. Artillery horses wear their harness night and day. In fact, we are ready for attack, advance or retreat at a minute's notice. Each morning the cavalry goes to the front, skirmish with the enemy, watch their movements through the day and return to camp at night. Matters wear a strange aspect; the Rebels seem playing with us; now advancing, now retiring. I know not what to think of the way things are working.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 112-3

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 28, 1863

Lenoir, Tenn.  I said yesterday that I was puzzled. I am more than ever today. I am confounded, disappointed, chagrined.

Our forces evacuated Loudon early this morning. The Rebels took immediate possession. Everything of value that could not be removed was destroyed. Only last night a locomotive was run across the river to be used on that side as we advanced. Four cars had been left there by the Rebels when they evacuated. As we had no time to remove them, the engineer put on steam and ran them off the embankment into the river. The Union people left with us. We have fallen back six miles and encamped for the night. A strong force is posted on the heights to prevent surprise.

I am simply stating facts as they occur. Of course, I cannot know the whys and wherefores of these movements. Perhaps they are part of the "original plan," and not a retreat. We all have confidence in Burnside, but, if we do not see Knoxville between now and Sunday I am much mistaken. To my heated imagination the Cumberland Mountains loom up with wonderful distinctness.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 113