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in Nashville, and now I fancy he is just marching round the city and into Kentucky.
That won't do!
Old Lee don't let us march round towns unless he chooses, or has at least a hard fight for it. However, I can't think Hood can do severe damage with so powerful an army as that of Thomas in his neighborhood.
Well, we will hope for a big thing, of some sort, somewhere, for there are a number of irons, small and great, in the fire, and as much activity prevails as if we were not near the real winter.
One thing I am sure of, that, what with expeditions little and big, threatenings and reconnaissances, the Rebels must be kept in quite an active state of simmer.
Poor General Potter!
He had a frightful night march and was doubtless buoyed up by the feeling that he had a separate command and could distinguish himself if there was a fight, and slam in on Hill's left flank, and win a great name for himself.
What then was his disgust to see, about noon, the head of Warren's column trudging peaceably back, on the other side of the river!
There were two decent-sized armies staring at each other, across the stream, each wondering what the other meant by being there; and both wondering why so many men were concentrated against nobody.
General Potter philosophically shrugged his shoulders, gave the word to face about, and put his best leg forward for home, where he arrived a little after dark.
It was a terrible night for a bivouac, with an intensely piercing cold wind and everything frozen up. Warren crossed the river and spent the night on this side of it.
December 12, 1864
Clear and cold we have had it this day, blowy this morning but still in the evening.
Last night it blew in a tremendous manner.
My tent flapped in a way that reminded 