Huntsville, Monday, March 28. To-day again was one full of disagreeableness. Cold rain, windy, so that we could not have a fire without smoking us out. Spent the long hours as best we could, playing dominoes and checkers with Griff and D. J. D. etc. A very large mail arrived, but unfortunately I was forgotten this time. Dress parade 4 P. M. Complimentary resolutions to veterans received from Congress. I have a very bad cold yet, with a wearisome cough. Bathed and wore wet compresses on chest.
1864 Mother Bickerdyke
Huntsville, Tuesday, March 29. Rained exceedingly heavy during the night, but cleared off in the morning. Continued cool through the day. Our camp was visited to-day by Mother Bickerdyke with four mule teams loaded with good things from the North for the soldiers. Left us three barrels of potatoes, turnips, carrots, etc., one barrel of sourkraut with one of dried applies. Noble woman. I still remember with gratitude the motherly interest she took in my welfare while lying in the hospital at Corinth. Here again she comes with that which she has gathered by her own labor in the North, not leaving it to be wholly absorbed by surgeons, directors and officers, as is too often the case with sanitary goods. She comes along in a mule wagon and delivers it herself to the "good boys" as she terms us, without seeking the officers. She drew a large crowd around her soon. Her glowing, welcoming face, filled with cordiality, had a magnetic influence upon the hearts of all, such a contrast to the haughty, disdainful looks we are accustomed to receive from women in general. May God bless her noble, self-sacrificing spirit, is the soldier's prayer.
Had a most hearty old-fashioned supper of potatoes and onions with gravy, which was better for our grease-laden systems than loads of cathartics. We had about twelve pounds of dried apples for our mess of four. Suddenly this afternoon at 4 P. M. the left Section was ordered to prepare to move. At 5 P. M., the two pieces left under Lieutenant Hood with five days' rations. One of my horses sick so I did not have to go. The other one was taken as extra horse. Lieutenant Clark assumed command of the Battery and took us out to parade—considerably scarred.
Huntsville, Wednesday, March 30. A fine day, warm, the vegetable kingdom springing fast. Turned my sick horse out to die this morning. Obtained a pass of Lieutenant Jenawein to go to the city. Called at shoemaker's shop, fixed my boots, and took a ramble through the town to the cemetery, and spent half an hour in meditation among the sacred dead. There lay, side by side, the rich and the poor. Here are coward, patriot and traitor. Truly all earthly passes away and leaves but faint traces behind. Visited an artist's gallery where I saw the most beautiful works of art I ever saw, representing the human form so lifelike that it needed but the speech to appear with life. The room was filled with different scenes, and the cold white marble statuary by them looked cold and expressionless. Returned to camp weary, but well pleased with my morning's work. Dinner was over, but they left a rarity of potatoes, etc.
At dress parade we were looked upon by four Northern ladies, one of whom was Mother Bickerdyke, having ridden up from town in an ambulance. The ranks, which before they came under the soft glances of women, were irregular, steps broken, heads drooping, all carelessness, now closed up and all moved with true military precision. A natural impulse to please took hold of them, I guess. After parade they were conducted through camp examining our quarters, with a pleasant smile and a kind word for all, spreading sunshine as they went and filling the heart with fond recollections and pleasing hopes. All were Northern women upon missions of love, one I understood a Wisconsin one, a young lady of twenty-five, the others elderly.