quantity of cornmeal left of which we were
lucky enough to get a good supply. The road for miles was white with
meal, spilled as they ran. Caisson bodies left and several blown up.
Took twenty-one howitzer shells from one of them into our chests. Came
into camp in an open field in rear of the 11th Corps. Made our beds in
the leaves and slept sweet till morning light.

Graysville, Ga., Friday, Nov. 27. Started at 8 A. M. Our march lay
through a poor country, thinly settled, covered with small pine, swampy
soil. All along the road evidence could be seen of the haste of the
enemy. Wagons, limbers, wheels, harness, etc. left, but all were
destroyed. Reached Graysville at 3 P. M. and came into camp on a steep
hillside, a lively little R. R. station on Chickamauga Creek, good water
power, cabinet works and flouring mill. The latter was kept running by
soldiers of the 11th Corps. A range of mountains commenced here, and our
advance came upon the rear of the enemy here this morning, capturing a
battery commanded by Beauregard's son. It was harnessed up and ready to
move. General Thomas manned it with infantry, took it after them. A
brisk fight could be heard at Ringgold, five miles distant. Prisoners
and deserters came in thick and fast from every direction. They say they
are tired of running and being hunted like beasts. Bragg promised
victory and gain to them, instead of which they received nothing but a
dastardly retreat and shame with empty bellies.

Foragers doing a good business in the shape of geese, chickens, sheep,
etc., few hogs. I was sent by Dixon after hay for the horses. Went about
two miles south, and returned with a good bundle, quite tired in
carrying it, but horses fared well for it.

Sat up till late cooking "dodgers" for the morrow's march. It looked
like rain, so we ditched about our bed, spread our ponchos over and laid
down, tired and sleepy, and I felt nearly worn out, but the thought of
following a retreating line kept up my strength and spirit.

[Sidenote: 1863 After Bragg]

Near Chattanooga, Saturday, Nov. 28. Reveille aroused the dreaming camp
at 3 A. M. It had been raining nearly all night, but we slept dry and
well. Feed call. One of my horses missing. Walked up and down the hills
and hollows for over an hour in the search. At last found him. I found
breakfast ready, consisting of coffee, corn cake and fresh mutton, which
I devoured with a keen appetite. 5 A. M. we started. We were to go ba