Cannellton, Va.,
Aug. 17
This morning was but a repetition of
the two previous ones,
reveille long before
day, a lighting of camp
fires, a bustle,
hurry, and confusion, a
general shaking
off of drowsiness, that had
just had
time to creep upon us so
securely. The
fabled God, Morpheus has
centered upon
her the affections of all in
camp at
this time, but few there are
who have
a chance to court her favors,
with any
degree of satisfaction. Daybreak found
us on the road, and we
reached the
summit of Cotton Mountain before
the
heat became oppressive. The ascent of
this mountain is difficult,
but, as
we had the cool of the
morning for
it, the task was easier. Before noon,
we struck the river, and down
its
banks we traveled eleven
miles, under
the influence of a broiling
sun, the
steep hills on either side
shutting
out the air, so that no
breeze fans
us, but we go plodding along
at mid=
=day, literally roasting with
heat. At
3 o’clock P.M. we reached
this place,
and encamped. The village, or what
passes as such, is on the
opposite (north)
bank of the Kanawha. From the fact
that considerable Cannel coal
is dug, and
exported from here, this
village is named
Cannellton. This place is above the head
of navigation, at low stages
of water,
but, when the river is up,
boats can
run above some six or eight
miles.
At present, navigation for
ordinary boats
ceases at Camp Piatt, nearly
20 miles
below.
Soon after our arrival in camp, some
of the soldiers observed on
the river bank,
two or three barrels, which,
upon being
opened, proved to be
excellent hams. A
general rush, and seizure of
the prize, was made,
despite all fear of authority
or law. This
proved a windfall for us, in
our hungry state.
We marched, today, some 23
miles.
[transcript by Mary Roy Dawson Edwards]
MSS 13925
MSS 13925
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