Scottsboro, Ala., April 9, 1864.
Don’t be alarmed and imagine that I have “photos” on the brain. This is in all probability the last remittance of the article that I shall make you. General Corse, our old brigade commander, we think a great deal of, and would like to have you preserve his picture. The little soldier, Johnny Clem, was a sergeant at the time of the Chickamauga battle, and fought like a hero. His comrades say he killed a Rebel officer of high rank there. For his gallant conduct in that massacre, General Thomas gave him a lieutenancy and position on his staff, where he now is. He is almost a perfect image of one, Willie Blackburn, who was my orderly in the 7th.
The day of jubilee has come at this post; that is, we have, once more, something fit to eat. This is the first day since we’ve been here that our commissary has furnished us with aught but regular rations. We can wish for nothing now, except “marching orders.” My men are in splendid condition. Everyone of them in A1 health and spirits. All the veterans of the division are back, except the three regiments of our brigade. The 55th Illinois has at last concluded to veteran. Two hundred of them will be at home shortly. They held a new election, left Malmsberg and Chandler out in the cold, and I understand, a goodly number of their best officers besides. Men who have not been under good disciplinarians, will almost invariably, if an election is allowed, choose good fellows for officers. That is, men who allow everything to go at loose ends, who have no business whatever with commissions. Captain Milt. Hainey and Captain Augustine, I understand, are to be colonel and lieutenant colonel of the 55th. They are said to be good men and officers, and exceptions to the above, but my experience is such exceptions are rare, and I’d rather time would prove them than man’s words. I believe my company would veteran, almost unanimously, to-day. I am still on court-martial duty, and having a very easy time. We seldom sit over two hours, and never more than four hours a day. The most of the cases are for desertion, and absence without leave, with occasionally a shooting or cutting affair among some drunken men. The major and several of the other officers are absent at Nashville on a shopping excursion. Captain Wyskoff is commanding. He has been trying for the last eight months to resign, but papers come back every time disapproved. It’s hard work now to get out of the army. By a few items I have seen in the papers, believe the 17th Army Corps is coming up the river. Wish they would be sent here. We need another corps to move with us on to Rome. Suppose that Grant thinks he must have the 17th with him at Richmond. Operations cannot possibly commence here for 25 days yet. Wish we could move to-morrow. Colonel Wright and I were out a few miles this p.m. to see a couple of maidens. While we were enjoying our visit a party of excited citizens (all liable to the Southern conscription) rush in, and kindly invite us to go down to Fossets’ in the bottom, and clean out a half dozen “guerils” who were there after conscripts. ‘Twas only a half mile through the woods to Fossets’ and that was closer than we wanted to be to such a party (we had no arms). So we told the excited citizens that they and the guerillas could all go to the d___1 and we’d go to camp. Within a mile of camp we met a company on the way to look for the Rebels, but I know they might as well look for a religious chaplain in the army as for the Rebels in that swamp. There is hardly a sign of spring here yet. Have certainly never seen vegetation as far advanced North at this season as it is here now. Need a fire every day. The last month has been colder than January was. I met a woman to-day who prides herself on belonging to one of the first families of Virginia and boasts that her grandsire’s plantation and George Washington’s almost joined, and showed me a negro woman 110 years old, that formerly waited upon George Washington. She claims to be chivalry, par excellence. Her husband is in the Rebel Army. She lives off of the United States Commissary Department, and begs her chewing tobacco of United States soldiers. She’s a Rebel, and talks it with her mouth full of Uncle Sam’s bread and bacon.