been taken after a terrible fight, and
ten thousand ears are eager to hear more about the engagement. No teams
crossed the river to-day; we are flood bound.

There was an immense number of deaths in the rebel army while it
encamped here. It is said three thousand Southern soldiers are buried in
the vicinity of the town. They could not stand the rigorous Northern
climate. A Mississippi regiment reported but thirteen men for duty.

22. Moved at seven in the morning toward Nashville without wagons, tents
or camp equipage. Marched twenty miles in the rain and were drenched
completely. The boys found some sort of shelter during the night in
tobacco houses, barns, and straw piles.

23. The day pleasant and sunshiny. The feet of the men badly blistered,
and the regiment limps along in wretched style; made fifteen miles.

24. Routed out at daylight and ordered to make Nashville, a distance of
thirty-two miles. Many of the boys have no shoes, and the feet of many
are still very sore. The journey seems long, but we are at the head of
the column, and that stimulates us somewhat. Have sent my horse to the
rear to help along the very lame, and am making the march on foot.

The martial band of the regiment is doing its utmost to keep the boys in
good spirits; the base drum sounds like distant thunder, and the wind of
Hughes, the fifer, is inexhaustible; he can blow five miles at a
stretch. The members of the band are in good pluck, and when not
playing, either sing, tell stories, or indulge in reminiscences of a
personal character. Russia has been badgering William Heney, a drummer.
He says that while at Elkwater Heney sparked one of Esquire Stalnaker's
daughters, and that the lady's little sister going into the room quite
suddenly one evening called back to the father, "Dad, dad, William Heney
has got his arm around Susan Jane!" Heney affirms that the story is
untrue. Lochey favors us with a song, which is known as the warble.

"Thou, thou reignest in this bosom,
There, there hast thou thy throne;

Thou, thou knowest that I love thee;
Am I not fondly thine own?

Ya--ya--ya--ya.
Am I not fondly thine own?

CHORUS.

Das unda claus ish mein,
Das unda claus ish mein,
Cants do nic mock un do.

On the banks of the Ohio river,
In a cot lives my Rosa so fai