Journal of Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman.

20th.—11 o’clock A. M.—I worked too hard yesterday, and was so tired that I could not sleep last night. Fortunate for me that we have not moved to-day; I must have been left. I am feeling better now, however, and if we rest till evening I shall be able to go on. Terrible fighting ahead, within three or four miles, and in hearing of us. I do not know where, nor by what forces. I was stopped writing here by—who comes to me, loaded with packages from home! How appropriate the contents, and what a relief. This morning, put on my last pair of socks, having worn ragged ones for a week, fearing to use the only ones left. The package contains some beautiful ones sent me by good friends, who seem never to forget my needs. I ought to be grateful and I am. A box of cigars, too, very fine ones, from my good friend

B——. I fully appreciate the kindness which dictated this attention, and shall not forget it.

P. M.—I have kept my bed—no, my lie-down on the broad surface of mother earth, with her clean and fragrant spreads and quilts and counterpanes of clover, and now feel rested and refreshed. Was called an hour since, to have all ready for a move. I am packed, and hear that we are to march to-night.

11 P. M.—Called into line from our earthy beds and under the cover of the dark black night, through which peeps a few bright stars we take up our march. Passing Sharpsburg, and one or two log cabin villages, we halted at daylight about two miles southeast of Williamsport, a village on the Maryland side of the Potomac, with a population, I should judge, of five or six hundred.


Journal of Surgeon Alfred L Castleman.

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