1864 Negro Schools
Huntsville, Friday, March 4. Evie Evans and myself went to the city on pass. Visited the Christian Commission rooms. Bought stamps. Also went to the colored school under charge of Chaplain of 17th Colored. Had school-teachers, being volunteers from the ranks, teaching the little woolly-heads their "A. B. C.'s". One class of youngsters was taught by a large negro. A class of young ladies was reading in the Second Reader. All seemed attentive and anxious to receive the instruction but poorly imparted to them. Harnesses were opened and distributed to the platoons. I was given one set. No horses.
Huntsville, Saturday, March 5. No drill to-day. General policing. Instead old harness being packed in the empty boxes in place of new. Expect to get them off soon. 4th Minnesota started on their homeward bound trip to-day at 12 M. with colors flying, and I dare say hearts fluttering. About sixty were left, as they would not re-enlist. Smallpox quite prevalent. Lieutenant Clark is down with it in an adjoining house. Paddleford was sent off last night to smallpox camp. His case was quite advanced. All broken out.
Huntsville, Sunday, March 6. A most delightful day. On guard. Second relief. —— still under arrest. Knapsack inspection at 8 A. M. as usual. Preaching in camp at 2 P. M. Very good, by member of Christian Commission.
Huntsville, Monday, March 7. A cloudy, dismal morning. Felt gloomy and sad in spirits. After dinner in hopes of driving such feelings away, I took my pen to write to Thomas. While thus engaged, I was interrupted by a loud talking and cheering in front of the tent, which called me out. There I found that the recruits had arrived from Camp Randall, thirty stout and hearty looking men with mouths wide open, gazing at their "to be" comrades. Anyone could see that they were raw recruits, but nearly everyone had friends to receive and congratulate, but I knew no one, but was cheered by the handing of a package to me by a stranger. It was from home. Hardly waiting to go to my tent, I tore it open, found a pair of socks knit by the hands of my mother; she who so often in times gone by has contributed to my comfort and happiness, had again remembered me in her labors, while suffering severely under the ruthless hand of disease. Oh how precious she is to me, and how fondly I will cherish her humble gift. Also a number of the Phrenological Journals bound in with the calico strip as of old—my favorite paper, loaded with valuable reading matter; also a gift from Brother John, a diary such as I need. The whole so impressed me with the scenes of home and its endearments that I could hardly refrain the tears. When the mail arrived I received four letters—nearly enough for one day.