I have been reading aloud the last evenings, Frances Kemble's Journal on a Georgia Plantation. To-night I finished it. How sickening and disgusting is the detail of this sin of slavery, and I thank God that a better day is dawning on the poor wronged African. What are the trials of camp life compared with the great work we are engaged in. I can cheerfully bear all the discomforts of a soldier's life for the overthrow of the monster evil.
Fort Gillem, Tuesday, Dec. 20. Everything froze up hard last night, and it was very cold. Suffered considerable on post. Griff and I wished to go to town, volunteered to load rations so as to go. Had to wait until late in the afternoon for our team. Drew hard-tack and salt junk. Visited Sanitary Commission rooms, obtained a good supply of reading matter. Bought stationery to write letters and returned to camp. It is turning warmer, rains again.
The papers tell us of the triumphant arrival of our gallant leader Sherman at the coast. Invests Savannah, and we expect to join him sooner or later. Beside this glorious success the utter defeat of his opponent and fellow raider, Hood, is insignificant. "The good time's coming." Eighteen teams out all the afternoon moving batteries.
Fort Gillem, Wednesday, Dec. 21. More rain last night, cold this morning. Griff attended to the domestic affairs, washed our dirty clothes, etc. In the afternoon I wrote two letters. Snowed and blustered considerable in the afternoon. Camp is very quiet. The ennui of a soldier's life is very heavy these disagreeable days, but we amuse ourselves by reading a great deal aloud. Two thousand five hundred more prisoners brought in to-day and corralled in jail yard.
Fort Gillem, Thursday, Dec. 22. A cold night. This morning everything frozen up hard and dry. Detailed to chop wood this forenoon, cold for my ears and bare hands. All the rest of the day staid close indoors.