Camp among the Pines Culpepper VaMay 2d 1864My dear Wife:-

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I received your letter of the 28th alt, this evening, and as usual I drop every thing and answer it. I have no reason to complain about your writing to me. I know that is not as easy nor convienent for you to write often as it is for me. But so much pleeasure does it give me to get a letter from you that it does not seem possible to wait for them. There has been no order yet depriving us of the privalage of writing home and I hope there will be none. But you do not get letters from me you will knwo the cause.

It has been a rainy afternoon and I thought I could not employ myself to better advantage than to make a picture of Lady lightfoot, which Helen so modestly requested. I thought two that a drawing made by myself would be much more acceptable than one made in another manner And here it is. It is a corse drawing, as I

have spent but a very little time on it and this kind of paper is very poor stuff to draw upon. Nevertheless it is very correct, that is the horse. Dont she look spirited? This is the way she always looks when she sees me coming towards her, and often when I am standing beside her, she will pretend she sees something to be [] at there tops her head in the air and give a snort, then turn her head to see as much as to say "I aint afraid". I tell you she is a treasure and the pet of the regiment and many a poor sick soldier may well feel proud of her as they ahve rode many a mile on her and I have gone on foot. She seems to know when a sick man gets on her back and she will plod along us gentle as they can wish, when at any other time it would trouble them to keep on her, I have never seen the place she would not go when I asked her to. If to jump a ditch on a fence away she goes without flinching a hair She never has played me a trick yet, never has left me nor full nor thrown me. She has qualities immeasurable, which take mention to

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enumerate than I have to spare now. When on the march and we get out of forage I always share my "hard tack" with her, and I believe it would bring tears to your eyes to see how she seems to appreciate the favor. Many is the time when I have been standing by her she has rubed her nose on my haversack for me to give her a tack. You may think it silly to tell of the virtues of a horse, but if you know how much we are attached to our horses you would not think so.

You ask when the Hospital is to be. It will be about 3/4 of a mile in the rear of the Brigade so that the ambulances can come to it with safety. I have no objections to your reading my letters to our friends, but dont expose my silly fancies. I shall trust to your judgement in the matter. You know I write them for your amusement, and if it pleases you to read them to others I have not a word to say. You did not say what you thougth of the description

Remember me with much love to Mrs Page also my regards to Phynius.

I have not read the article in the news that you call my attention to. I have just glanced my eye over it, and consider it of a very deep copper color. As ot the blocking of Grants advance is just nobodies business but his own. He has every thing his own way & when he gets ready to move he will do so, if the clerk of the weather does not "block his advance". The copperheads are at fault, they cant find out any thing that is going on. Therefore they endeavor to get up bug bears to make the people uneasey, and for political purposes. The N.Y. World from which the article is taken is a Rebel paper, actually supported by the Rebels. So badly do the soldiers hate it that any news boy that would attempt to bring one into the army would hardly got out of it with enough left of his duty carcass to make group spot. IF the army dont move no one is to blame but Grant himself. I know. And he will move at his pleasure. Croakers to the contrary notwithstanding. Now you ahve my opinion, and the facts. I have filled up my sheet with horses and politics, and I guess you will think it mighty dry. Remember me to the children and give them my love, and accept a hearts love for your dearself I am well

Your loving husbandJ.C. Rutherford