icksburg surrendered Grant started the greater
part of his army, under the command of Gen. Sherman, in the direction
of Jackson for the purpose of attacking Gen. Johnston. Our division,
however, remained at Snyder's until July 12th, when we left there,
marching southeast. I remember this march especially, from the fact
that the greater part of it was made during the night. This was done in
order to avoid the excessive heat that prevailed in the daytime. As we
plodded along after sunset, at route step, and arms at will, a low hum
of conversation could be heard, and occasionally a loud laugh, "that
spoke the vacant mind." By ten o'clock we were tired (we had been on
the road since noon), and moreover, getting very sleepy. Profound
silence now prevailed in the ranks, broken only by the rattle of
canteens against the shanks of the bayonets, and the heavy, monotonous
tramp of the men. As Walter Scott has said somewhere in one of his
poetical works:

"No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang,
Still were the pipe and drum;
Save heavy tread and armor's clang,
The sullen march was dumb."

The column halted about midnight, we bivouacked in the woods by the
side of the road, and I was asleep about as soon as I struck the
ground.

We resumed the march early in the morning, and during the forenoon
arrived at Messinger's ford, on Black river, where we went into camp.
We remained here only until July 17, and on that day marched a few
miles south to the railroad crossing on Black river, and bivouacked on
the west bank of the stream. The Confederates during the campaign had
thrown up breastworks of cotton bales, which evidently had extended for
quite a distance above and below the railroad crossing. When our
fellows came along they tore open the bales and used the cotton to
sleep on, and when we arrived at the place the fleecy stuff was
scattered over the ground, in some places half-knee deep, all over that
portion of the river bottom. It looked like a big snowfall. Cotton, at
that very time, was worth one dollar a pound in the New York market,
and scarce at that. A big fortune was there in the dirt, going to
waste, but we were not in the cotton business just then, so it made no
difference to us. At the beginning of the war, it was confidently
asserted by the advocates of the secession movement that "Cotton was
king;" that the civilized world couldn't do without it, and as the
South had a virtual monopoly of the stuff, th