from early morning till evening. Small oaks,
four and five inches in diameter, were chiefly used in building these
houses. The logs were laid one above another, to the height of four
feet, intersecting at the corners of the houses like the rails of a
Virginia fence. The interstices were filled with mud. Shelter-tents,
buttoned together to the size required, formed the roof, and afforded
ample protection from the weather, except in very heavy rains. Each
house had its fireplace, table, and bunk. On the 13th of November the
houses were nearly completed; and as we sat by our cheerful fires that
evening, and looked forward to the leisure and quiet of the winter
before us, we thought ourselves the happiest of soldiers. Writing home
at that time, I said that, unless something unforeseen should happen, we
expected to remain at Lenoir's during the winter.

That something unforeseen was at hand; and our pleasant dreams were
destined to fade away like an unsubstantial pageant, leaving not a rack
behind. At four o'clock on the morning of the 14th I was roused from
sleep by loud knocks on the new-made door. In the order which followed,
"Be ready to march at daybreak," I recognized the familiar, but
unwelcome voice of the Sergeant-Major. Throwing aside my blankets, and
leaving the Captain dreamily wondering what could be the occasion of so
unexpected an order, I hurried to the quarters of the men of Company D,
and repeated to the Orderly Sergeant the instructions just received. The
camp was soon astir. Lights flashed here and there through the trees.
"Pack up! pack up!" passed from lip to lip. "Shall we take everything?"
Yes, everything. The shelter-tents were stripped from the houses,
knapsacks and trunks were packed. The wagon for the officers' baggage
came, was hurriedly loaded, and driven away. A hasty breakfast followed.
Then, forming our line, we stacked arms, and awaited further orders.

The mystery was soon solved. Longstreet, having cut loose from Bragg's
army, which still remained in the vicinity of Chattanooga, had, by a
forced march, struck the Tennessee River at Hough's Ferry, a few miles
below Loudon. Already he had thrown a pontoon across the river, and was
crossing with his entire command, except the cavalry under Wheeler,
which he had sent by way of Marysville, with orders to seize the heights
on the south bank of the Holston, opposite Knoxville. The whole movement
was the commencement of a series of blunders on th