We were indebted to Capt. Hall of the Michigan Sharpshooters for this kindness and timely aid; he had presented our case, and obtained relief for us. A feast of good things seemed to rain upon us, for another barge came alongside with a barrel of pickled cabbage on board, its savory smell stealing upon our senses with strong desire to partake.
As no such thing ever hurt sick men, I got a pail belonging to one of the nurses, and started for the cabbage, she following, calling out vigorously for her disappearing pail.
Our old friends, the cooks from our hospitals, were there, kind as ever, and they filled and refilled my pail, till the empty barrel remained with only the scent to give evidence of what its contents had been. It was delicious, and our appreciation of it should have been ample recompense to its owner, or owners whoever they were, making allowance for its appropriation, in that our stomachs had grown insensible to all civilized laws of mine and thine.
On the seventeenth we could distinctly hear the report of cannon, and knew that somewhere our men were facing the foe in deadly fight. It came booming over the water in slow solemn measure, and men were hurled to the ground, crushed and lifeless, before every thundering discharge.
