#8

Corinth, Miss., Oct. 17, 1862.

 

My Dear Sister:

                        Your welcome letter was received this morning, and I immediately sit down to answer it, although I believe that I have this week written three letters home. One lesson that a soldier who is liable to be ordered at any moment to march is promptitude. Had I not written my last letter to you immediately upon the receipt of yours, you would not have heard from me for two weeks longer. "Never put off till to-morrow what may be done to-day" is something that I have learned to observe in the letter line.

 

            We are now enjoying a little much-needed rest. For the last four weeks we have been marched and countermarched almost daily, being much of the time without blankets, and not having slept in tents more than four or five times, exposed to rain and the heavy, cold night dews, suffocated with dust, until we had / become considerably worn down. But since our return to Corinth, which was on the 12^th of this month we have been in comfortable quarters, and are becoming recruited up considerably. We present a considerably cleaner appearance, to say the least, than we did upon our arrival here. We had had no opportunity to wash anything for 2 or 3 weeks, and I am afraid that if you had seen me when I marched into Corinth, you would hardly have recognized in the dirty, dust-begrimmed member of Co. B, who answers at roll-call to the name G. R. Gear your own Brother George. And speaking about washing, O! shades of the ancients! what a washerwoman I make. Fancy me bending over some camp kettle, my sleeves rolled up and I rubbing away for dear life, trying to eradicate at least the outside dirt, and witness the woe-begone expression of countenance that flits over my face when I see that after long effort I have only succeeded in partially cleaning perhaps one shirt, while be- / fore me still lays a pair of drawers that will require twice the amount of work. I had rather translate 20 pages of Greek than wash one pair of drawers any time. Sometimes I employ negroes to do my washing rather than bother with it myself. I can get my shirt and drawers washed for five cents apiece, and when I have plenty of money I do not begrudge it; but just now my funds are out, and I am compelled to fall back on my own exertions.

 

            I find my appetite decidedly improving, and not a little to my own inconvenience. When on the march as we have been, we cannot cook beans, rice, fresh meat and potatoes, and consequently are not furnished those articles. It requires a good deal of husbanding to make our crackers hold out, and sometimes they give out in spite of us. Then we are compelled to shift the best way we can. Sometimes a friendly sweet potato patch furnishes us nourishment, sometimes a bean field, and many are the articles of food that are "jayhawked". Our officers are pretty strict / in regard to entering fields while marching along, but foraging parties are sometimes sent out under an officer to procure things for the whole command. It is hard however to prevent many stragglers entering the houses and fields, and an advancing army leaves very little in the eating line along its track. How the inhabitants are to live I cannot imagine! Very little of anything has been raised, and even that little is snatched up wherever we go. It seems to me that starvation for many of the inhabitants within a radius of 25 miles from here is inevitable. It is distressing to witness the scene of desolation. Sweet potato patches and dried up corn fields is almost the only thing I have seen, although I have marched over many weary miles of Northern Mississippi. But about The men—those able bodied are almost invariably absent from home, and the broad acers acres of many a plantation has raised but crops of weeds. The negro slaves, at least the men, have generally run away to our army.—But about this matter of jayhawking. It seems to me when these things are taken without authority so much like stealing that I have never participated in it; if, perhaps, I may except one case, which hardly seems to me like the rest, and which indeed our officers do not prevent. It is this: Sometimes we encamp in the woods, where there are a great many hogs running around that feed on the most. Let us but be hungry, and we to those hogs. I have actually seen a hog running around, and not fifteen minutes would elapse before there would be pieces of it roasting on the end of 20 different sticks. You may think that a poor way to cook, but I assure you that the meat is even sweeter than when fried in a pan.—But about my appetite again. When first I came to the army I could not eat all my rations, and as we were at that time furnished soft bread, every three or four days I would sell a loaf. I even preferred the hard crackers. But now, how altered! We are not issued soft bread now, but I am very / glad occasionally to have an opportunity to buy a loaf, even at the big price of a dime for a not big loaf. We ran out of rations the day that we returned here, and so hungry was I that I devoured two loaves in one afternoon; and I didn't grumble because they were not buttered.—But then you musn't imagine from what I have written that we are in a starving condition all the time. Sometimes we feast gloriously on the savory dishes that we concoct, and it is only occasionally that we thus have our appetites whetted by abstinence. It would no doubt make your mouth water should I tell you of the nicely cooked dishes that our genius invents—of the pumpkin sauce, corn cakes, stewed grapes, etc. etc., with which we sometimes regale ourselves. I think that if I ever get home I shall be able to set up housekeeping for myself. One difficulty which you have in your cooking at home we are entirely freed from here. You season your food so high that no doubt it is often quite injurious to the health. We are fortunately spared any such danger here. Salt does us instead of any such superfluous stuff as pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg, etc. How proud I feel already of my skill in cooking. You must forewarn all the girls that if they would have a soldier for a husband they must not neglect their cooking education.—I mentioned grapes a little while ago. There grows a kind of grapes in these Mississippi swamps that I have never seen at the North. The trunk of the vine resembles our grape vine, but the leaves do not in the least. I can scarcely describe the leaves to you, but they are small, / being not over the size of a silver half dollar. The vine runs up on tall trees to a great height. The grape is about the size of a musket ball, of a thick skin, and an exceedingly pleasant flavor. They call them Muskodines or Mustangs, I do not know exactly which is the orthography of the word.—We frequently find in the woods also frost grapes. It is this latter kind that we sometimes stew, the former kind not being good when cooked.

 

            The weather here is very pleasant now. The days are warm, without being very uncomfortably so, and there is a beautiful clear sky. The nights however are quite cool, in consequence of the heavy dews. Things begin to wear somewhat the appearance of fall, but certainly not anywhere near to the extent it they must be with you.

 

            After a week or two's rest, I presume again we shall start off; whither I do not know, but probably southward. I will write whenever I can find opportunity, but should you not hear frequently you need not be surprised. Write whenever you can. I should be glad to write to Mr. Ewart and Tommy but I find my spare letter writing time completely taken up now. Remember me to Mr. Ewart and all the family. Tell mother not to send that money I spoke of if it will scrimp at home.

 

            Write soon to

                       

Your Brother              

George.

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