Your favor has been received; and I wish you would say to the selectmen and others who scold the Governor and me for not sending a mustering officer to Pittsfield whenever they feel like having one, that they had better come here, and try half as hard as I do to have officers sent there, and I think afterwards they would grumble no more at the Governor and the Adjutant-General. Last week I sent a mustering officer to Pittsfield, through the kindness of Captain Collins, United-States chief mustering officer. I told him how much one was needed; and, although the officer sent was needed at “Camp Stanton,” I arranged that he should go to Pittsfield instead. Well, he went there. The next day, he telegraphed Captain Collins that there was no one in camp ready to be mustered in, and requested to know how long he must stay there. This telegram Captain Collins sent up to me, with a little note blaming me for sending his officer two hundred miles off on a sort of tomfool's errand. I advised him, however, to hold on a day or two, and finish up Berkshire if possible; that I had no doubt you would have the recruits ready for him by that time. So I supposed the thing was finished, and that I should have the thanks of the selectmen, instead of “their sweet little curses.” Now, then, I wish you would say to the town authorities who “swear at us,”
This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.