September 24th. The weather has greatly improved and is now superb. Derrickson and I availed ourselves of it this morning, and started in for a great treat. We found in the barn attached to the house an old Rockaway carriage and set of double harness, and conceived the brilliant idea of taking a drive. After slight repairs made to the wagon by a battery blacksmith, we hitched up Derrickson’s sorrel and my gray, and to the envy of the whole command, started off. My horse had evidently not been used to harness, or had forgotten all about it in his long military career, and jumped and reared and danced, much to the amusement of the crowd. By a good deal of management we finally got started, and for half a mile or more sped over the ground in great style, when the gray made a sudden bolt, upset the wagon, and pitched us both out. The wagon was broken, so we had to lead the horses home and send our men to fetch the wagon. We concluded in the future to go on horseback, and leave wagons for civilians, countrymen and women.
My general court is in session every day; a hospital tent furnishes the accommodation, and from ten till two o’clock daily justice is dispensed without fear, favor, or prejudice.
Two cases of desertion have been tried since we have been here, one of them attracting much attention on account of the prisoner’s youth. Private Adam Smally, Company E, Sixty-sixth New York, deserted just before the battle of Gettysburg. After his capture he admited his guilt, but seemed to think nothing of it. My court tried him and found him guilty and sentenced him to death. He pleaded guilty, nevertheless I introduced evidence to prove conclusively his guilt, and subsequently, at my request, the general appointed a board of surgeons to consider his mental condition. I was disappointed when they declared him responsible, for he is so young it seems a pity to shoot him. I am sorry now I did not use my influence with the court to modify the sentence.
