Eastport, Miss., Nov. 3, 1863.

 

Dear Sister:

                        I have just written a few words to you, promising the first opportunity to write more. I will now continue my record of the march. I believe that I ended my last account with the 4^th days journey. On the

 

            Fifth Day we traveled about 17 miles, stopping at Pochahontas, 18 miles from Corinth. Our route lay through a section of country, about as destitute of evidences of civilization as any you meet. Forests and swamps, with an occasional clearing, make up its general features. Most of the buildings are deserted, but occasionally you see a house containing a few tow headed children, and lank, ignorant looking women. Pochahontas is a new place to us, although / we have traveled most of that days route before when on our way to Oxford last fall. Like all Southern towns Pochahontas has a somewhat desolate appearance, on account of the number of buildings that have been deserted, and torn to pieces. It is situated in a pleasant little valley, and was once a flourishing little village. But the blight of Secession, bringing the desolation of war has put a stop to its prosperity. You can hardly imagine the desolating effect of war. Heaven grant that it may never devastate our beautiful villages and cities of the North.—We reached camp early in the afternoon. At dark the heavens were somewhat cloudy, but no one dreamed of rain and no one made preparation for it. We lay down to sleep in security, but about 12 o'clock the rain commenced to come. I was sleeping under a thin fly. Soon / the rain commenced trickling through. But I was resolved to lay still. But soon a new enemy presented itself. We were camped in a low place, and the water, refusing to run off, bagan to stand around in pools, and presently intruded upon my bed. This was too much. I arose turned up the edges of my gum blanket, so that the water could not touch my body, and again lay down. By this time the fly had become soaked, so that it did not leak so bad. Most of the boys had got up and built fires to warm themselves. Soon the ground was almost all afloat. It was dismal. You can imagine somewhat the feelings with which the boys would utter such exclamations as these: "Who wouldn't be a Veteran?" "$402 now for enlisting in the Veteran Corps".—But I lay till morning, which came dismal enough. Water, water all / around, and still raining. The Colonel came around, and joked with the men doing what he could to cheer them. There was a gloomy prospect before us. We knew we had a horrible swamp to cross, which the rain would render well nigh impassable. I was somewhat unwell. The Doctor told me I had better go down to Corinth by rail with the other sick. I disliked to leave the regiment, but concluded that it was best for me under the circumstances. So I waited till afternoon and went down on the train. It soon stopped raining, and became quite cold, so that I dreaded the ride on the train but I got along very well on the whole, reaching Corinth about 3 o'clock. The Regiment marched about 8 miles through bad swamps that day, and coming to one which was impassable for the Artillery they camped for the night. They next day were about 12 miles from Corinth. The next day they took a roundabout road, and after marching about 30 miles, reached Corinth at 11 P.M. Saturday evening. We went up to our old barracks. They were in a quite dilapidated condition having been used for stables. Corinth has altered somewhat since we left. New fortifications have been added and new , neat looking barracks built.

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