Camp 103d Illinois Infantry, Lagrange, Tenn.,
April 14, 1863.
I am brigadier officer of the day again, and of course it is a rainy, muddy, disagreeable day. Visiting the pickets occupied my whole forenoon and I rode through a constant rain. You may consider it an evidence of perverted taste, or maybe demoralization, or possibly of untruthfulness in me, if I say that I enjoy being on duty in the rain, but it is a fact. I don’t like to lie in bed, or sit by the fire, and think of floundering about in the mud and being soaked to the skin, but once out of doors, let it rain and wind ever so hard I enjoy it. At my request the general relieved me from that “Board of Survey,” and I am again with my company. If I could but get 15 days’ exemption from duty, I could finish up the drilling I wish to give them. Since we left Peoria we have been driven so much with duty that drilling has been next to impossible. The health and spirits of the regiment are now excellent. Such a body of soldiers as this now is cannot be considered otherwise than as a credit to even immaculate Fulton County and New Jersey, two Edens without even one snake. That is one point in which the ninteenth century beats Adam’s time. Rumors of another move down the Mississippi Central R. R. are flying now. I credit them. Within 20 days we will again be allowed to strike our tents. I’m getting well over my Vicksburg fever and wishing considerably in regard to this land movement. Before I write again the cavalry, some six to ten regiments, will have started on a raid of considerable magnitude. You can see from the way I write that I know nothing of what is in prospect, but from hints dropped feel certain that a move with force will be made from here at once. Anything to end this horrible inactivity. Every newspaper I read raises my disgust ten per cent. I’m sure I’ll become a chronic swearer if it lasts this summer through. I suppose that you know by this time whether the Charleston attack is a failure or not. I’m not much interested in that. It will cause no loss of sleep on my part if we fail there, only I’d like to hear of the town being burned. I believe there are more chances for a general to immortalize himself, working southward from this line of road as a base, than in any other part of the field. But where is the general?