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of steel, of the groans of the dying and the shouts of the victors. The Seventh boys are now all still. How nobly they all look as their eyes are closed, with the shadow of the pale moon playing upon their faces. We are wont to feel sad when'we look around here and know that in this war for the Union some of those who lie here will go down as victims on the alter of human freedom.
January 15th.--This morning we wait for the arrival of General Smith's command. After their arrival, we move forward. Soon it commences to rain, and through mud and rain we march all day. Taking a circuitous route through woods and swamps, we arrive at Elliott's Mills in the evening, and go into camp on the opposite bank of Mayfield Creek.
January 16th.—This morning it is still raining very hard. We find it difficult to keep the camp fires burning. Our camp is in the Mayfield Creek bottom. The water is standing all around us. The creek is rising very high, and it is still raining. Our subsistence is now running short, and Mayfield Creek between us and Fort Holt, our nearest depot of supplies. Mud! mud! everywhere, the situation looks critical
January 17th.--Affairs look billious this morning. Still raining, the camp fires burning dimly. The soldiers wet and chilled. All day a party are at work moving the baggage train across the creek. Everything looks dreary; nothing cheering, nothing comfortable. No rest for the soldier to-night.
January 18th.—This morning all looks gloomy. The hopes of attacking Columbus have vanished. We await orders to return to Fort Holt. This evening the quartermaster arrives with supplies, which are in great demand. The boys are more cheerful to-night.
January 19th.-This morning we receive orders to pack up and move back to Fort Holt. We cross the creek on an old flat-boat bridge. The roads are terrible. We find it a very fatiguing tramp. We arrive at Fort Holt in the evening, almost exhausted by the hard march. All seem glad to again be ushered into their comfortable quarters.
For some days the effect of the forced march in mud and rain, through the swamps of Kentucky are felt by the Seventh. The remaining part of the month we remain quietly at Fort Holt, though sometimes it seemed that the rapid rise of the Ohio would compel us to evacuate, but the waters subsided without submerging us. From the twenty-fifth on until the first of February, I can note nothing but the regular routine of camp duties. On the first we receive orders to hold ourselves in readiness to move with camp and garrison equipage. This order means that we will move in a day or two. in confusion and many are the conjectures relative to our destination.
February 2d.-Sunday morning we are busily engaged packing up to leave the fort. Steamers are numerous in this vicinity now. Every day troops are passing up the Ohio river, and it is rumored that
they head for the Tennessee. Some grand expedition on foot, as everything seems to indicate. We may follow soon. Where we will go, we cannot tell; only that our faces are being turned southward. I look around the camp to-night; I see strong men, full of life and hope. They may go down there ne'er to return again. Liberty will claim them, but in the years to come there will be a disenthralled race who will pass their graves and drop tears to their memory.
Leaving Fort Holt-Ascending the Ohio and the Tennessee
Landing before Fort Henry—The March' to the Rear-The Mud–The Fall of Fort Henry-The accident met with by Company I–Our camp at Fort Henry.
Monday Morning, February 3d, 1862.--The regiment takes passage on board the steamer City of Memphis, for parts unknown. Being nearly all day loading the camp and garrison equipage, the steamer does not move until 5 o'clock, P. M.
We now steer up the Ohio river; pass Paducah at midnight. The fourth dawns beautifully, finding us moving up the Tennessee river. Rumor has it that Fort Henry is our destination. The drums are now beating, colors flying and hearts beating high, for the face of the Seventh is Dixieward. The gan boats are leading the way, and five steamers follow in the wake of the Memphis. 'Tis evening now. in the dim distance Fort Henry's walls and the flaunting stars and bars. We disembark four miles from the Fort and go into camp on the bank of the river. Some one remarks that there is mud here, and 80 say we, and the most terrible mud. As the soldiers move through the camp this evening, their cry is: “No bottom !"
Wednesday, 5th.—This morning a fog hangs over the surrounding hills. About ten thousand troops are concentrated here. The gun-boats are anchored
in the river, waiting for the land forces. A large number of troops are landing on the other side of the river. Everything this evening looks warlike.
Thursday, 6th. It is raining this morning; has been all night. There may be poetry in war, but there is no poetry in Camp Halleck (the name given to this camp by general orders). Mud predominates and the camp fires burn dimly. Soon the rain ceases and the clouds vanish; the sky becomes clear, and the sun sheds forth refreshing light, which is very welcome to the wet Seventh. But ere it is noon we have marching orders. The gun-boats, terrible looking monsters, are now steaming up towards Fort Henry. The army is put in motion. We look away; and around the hills and up the ravines we see the beautiful starry banners flying. It is our fate to be one of the rear regiments, and while waiting for the assembly to beat, the regiment ascends a hill close by, from where we first behold a rebel camp.
We see the ensign of treason floating defiantly over the Fort. Mad, mad, men! that they would thus insult the mother that gave them birth. But ah! they are now being circumvented. The gunboats still keep steaming up towards the Fort. We predict that ere the sun sinks to rest, that banner, the representative of a wicked people, will be struck down, and that upon her staff the old Union's flag will flutter in the wind, and cast around Fort Henry her flashing light. Up a winding ravine we pass, over the hills we climb. The troops are aiming to get to the rear of the Fort, ere the