"8 o'clock—The regiment has just returned to camp, without learning anything of the cannonading. They bring no spoils of victory, except one or two contraband hogs, and a few chickens.
"December 10th—Reveille sounded in the old camp this morning at two o'clock, and at five we moved out on the march. Our course was taken due east from camp, as could be known by the redness of the horizon, indicating the point at which the 'God of day' would first make his appearance. The morning was cool and bracing, and the boys put out with a will, being also encouraged by a prospect of a fight with the enemy, as it was rumored that that was the object of the march. The march continued about five miles, and terminated by our going into camp here. We are, perhaps, a little nearer the enemy than we were this morning, but have only changed our position in relation to Nashville. We are now more directly between Nashville and Murfreesboro'—four miles from the former, and twenty-six from the latter—about two miles west of the pike leading to Murfreesboro. This State, as well as Kentucky, is abundantly supplied with macadamized roads. Stone is easily procured, and has been unsparingly used for road purposes.
"It is now about four o'clock on the morning of the 11th of December. 'Early to bed and early to rise' is an example set by all who have ever made any great progress in the world, and this morning I have followed it. Early rising is pretty generally practiced in the army, especially by the privates; the officers, having attained to all they desire, sleep till surfeited.
"This is a lovely morning, just such an one as would suit me at home. Oh, how much I would enjoy home this morning! The christian, who has resigned his claim to all earthly things, and transferred his treasures to the 'better land,' alone can tell the feelings of a soldier when he indulges in the thoughts of home. Home, to the soldier, is as the treasure-house above to the christian, for where the treasures are there will the heart be also. 'Home, sweet home, there is no place like home.' 'Oh, dark is how my heart grows weary, far from my good old home.' Shall I never more behold it? Never again look upon the bright and cheerful faces of those I left behind me there? Yes, I fancy that I shall, but the time seems long—seems very long.
"Well, I have just returned from a walk I have been taking, out beyond the camp, and there the birds bid me be of good cheer. They sang, 'When the spring time comes,' you may with us go back to your northern home, and we'll spend the summer together there. I blessed the little songsters, and came back to camp more resigned and cheerful. Now the day is numbered amongst those that were before the flood, and a 'wee bit' candle is all the light I have to see by.
"About half a mile from camp is a large cane brake, or cane thicket. The cane stands so thick on the ground that a hare could not pass between them, only in places where they had been cut or broken down. They are from fifteen to twenty feet in length; they are now in thick foliage; the leaves are as green as in the summer time; it is quite cheering to look at them. The little birds come from miles away to sleep among the thick leaves; it is so much warmer for them than on the branches of the big leafless trees of the forest. Here the cold wind or the sharp frost can not penetrate; but the innocent little creatures had better run the risk of being frozen than seek shelter here at this time, for every night hundreds of them are sacrificed to the rapacity of the ruthless soldier. The boys take candles and torches, and by dazzling their eyes with the bright light, pick them from their perches without difficulty, or knock them off with sticks do they try to escape. The birds are principally the red-breasted robin, but there are other smaller ones of different kinds. Pot-pie is a common dish in camp now.
"December 12th—The mail comes regularly to camp now, bringing letters from the dear ones at home. Good, kind, cheering letters some of them are too. I just had the pleasure of reading one from a good old mother in Illinois to her noble boy in the army. Such loving, cheering words—such good advice. The boy's heart was softened, ennobled, elevated. There is no danger of his becoming wicked so long as that kind mother continues her controlling influence over him. Would that there were more such mothers in Illinois! If there were there would be much less wickedness manifested in the army of the Cumberland. No one can estimate the restraining influence of an affectionate letter from a beloved mother, or a kind friend, to the young soldier. I fancy that I can go through our regiment and point out every young man who has a good family at home, or a pious loving mother who devotes a portion of her time in writing to her soldier boy in the army. Richly will she be rewarded for labor thus spent. The soldier is constantly exposed to peculiar temptations, and needs all the restraining influences that can be thrown around him, and there can be none more restraining than the admonitions of an absent, loving mother.
"December 22d—The weather continues most delightful. We are under marching orders. The tents are all struck and loaded in the wagons. The sick have all been sent back to Nashville to remain in hospital until their health becomes restored, or they are transported to that bourne from whence no traveler returns.
"Mason Campbell, of Company B, was under treatment at the regimental hospital three days before being sent to Nashville. The most energetic treatment was pursued in his case—about five grains of calomel being given him every three hours for three days, making, in all, one hundred and twenty grains, and no motion from the bowels during the time; with all this he was sent to Nashville and died.
"December 25—Here we are in camp again. After loading our traps in the wagons we lay around promiscuously until yesterday noon, when we marched about five miles towards Nolensville, right about faced, and marched back again to the very spot we started from. "Strategy, my boy!"