It affords me especial pleasure to do this man justice. He was one of the most learned and skillful physicians of our State. His physical endurance, and capability of long exertion was such as few men possess; and yet, save when in some particular freak of good humor, he seemed to give his attentions most grudgingly, and to take a fiendish delight in abusing sick men of which we can scarcely believe human nature capable. If he survives this war it will be to receive the heartfelt execrations of those of my comrades who survive it.
For some time this part of our regiment remained in statu quo at Wellsville. The other battalion of it still remained at Florence under Captain Herron. The monotony of our situation at Wellsville was relieved by bringing in from the surrounding country various classes of persons as prisoners: sympathizers, bridge-burners, bushwhackers, blatant traitors and members of Price's old State Guard. Whatever excesses we may have committed with or without excuse upon citizen enemies, when they were in our power, we treated them with the respect due to prisoners of war. At one time our guard house contained upwards of twenty prisoners, citizens and soldiers. They were disposed of in various ways. Some were sent to St. Louis for trial. Some were transferred to Alton. Most were released on giving bonds to the United States.
For the first time since being in Missouri, we subsisted our animals entirely upon forage taken from disloyal citizens. For this purpose, foraging parties went out nearly every day. Notwithstanding the stringent orders under which their commanders were placed, they were generally the occasion for carrying off whatever the soldier could find that would suit his appetite better than bacon and pilot bread. I never heard, however, of any outrages being committed in houses, the operations being seldom extended beyond the poultry yard, pig sty and potato bin.
On the 23d of January, all of our regiment was moved west, and distributed along the railroad at four different places; Mexico, Allen, Sturgis and Huntsville. Everything now went well. Our quarters, surroundings and duties were most pleasant. We were in the midst of civilization and social cheer. The Union had many friends in Missouri, and they entertained us generously. We were again seeing the halcyon days of a soldier's life; but we did not know it. We wanted glory. When Grant moved up the Tennessee we wanted to be with him. Many troops went from Missouri to reinforce him; but we were left behind. Fort Henry was taken, and we were not there. But the land forces had won no laurels in that operation. We hoped that we might be sent to take part in the reduction of Fort Donelson. But no. Train after train went past us loaded with troops from General Hunter's department, all going to reinforce Grant; but still we were left behind. Curtis was moving; Grant was moving; Buell was moving; McClellan was moving; Burnside was moving. The army was advancing at all points, and we were left behind, guarding railroads and keeping down guerrillas. At length Fort Donelson fell. A thrill of joy electrified the nation. A universal burst of praise went up for the gallant men who there had fought so well. General Halleck telegraphed to Governor Kirkwood, "The 2d Iowa have proved themselves the bravest of the brave." And yet we were doing garrison duty in the rear. What had we done to merit less than these comrades of ours? Had we failed our country in the hour of trial? Had we done so little, suffered so little, and complained so much? Since Ft. Donelson, all the little battles of the war were forgotten. Blue Mills had dwindled into an insignificant affair. When we read the glowing accounts of these three days of battle, we almost ceased to be proud of it ourselves. A soldier would rather die than be behind in honor. We begged for a chance. We had no fears for the rest. At length we began to despair. We feared it was the intention of the commanding general to keep us behind always. We began to be ashamed of ourselves. We were ashamed to date our letters from Missouri. We would have blushed to look our friends in the face; for who thought of us now?
Meanwhile the trial of Colonel Williams was taking place at St. Louis. Witnesses went and came. It was protracted from day to day. Among the enlisted men of the regiment, the feeling was still strong and bitter against him. Finally it was announced that he would be released. It was without much disappointment; for we had watched the developments of the trial, and expected this event. At length it was reported that he would join us, and that we should then be taken to the front. We rejoiced.
On the 25th of February, Colonel Williams arrived at regimental headquarters, Mexico, Missouri. Companies F and K were stationed here. The latter received him with some courtesy; the former with marked disdain. The memories of Chariton bridge still rankled in their bosoms. Nevertheless, we were disposed to be hopeful. We hoped that his long arrest had furnished an opportunity for meditation and repentance, and that he would be more careful of his conduct now. This was the case. Before his arrival we did every thing slackly. We almost began to forget that we were soldiers. The first thing he did was to enforce discipline. He instituted regular roll-calls, drills twice a day, and daily dress parades. He did nothing that we could complain of, although we watched him with the eyes of cynics. Day by day our former prejudices against him began to wear away. Almost imperceptibly those hitherto antagonistic elements, the colonel and his men, began to harmonize. Colonel Williams was a wiser officer, and we were better soldiers.
On the 3d of March, it was announced, amid great rejoicing, that we would leave for the south as soon as transportation should arrive to take us away.