This letter was written by Milton Humphrey Bassett (1840-1926) of New Britain, Hartford county, Connecticut, who served in the US Signal Corps along with his older brother, Frederick Henry Bassett (1839-1929) of Enfield. They were the sons of Ozias Buell Bassett (1807-1878) and Emeline Eno (1805-1905).

Milton began his service in September 1861 as a private in Co. A, 13th Connecticut Infantry but later, in August 1863, he transferred to US Signal Corps. He was discharged from the Signal Corps in January 1866.

In the 1900 US Census, and again ten years later, Milton was enumerated as a patient in the Connecticut Hospital for the Insane at Middletown, Connecticut. Might explain why certain portions of this letter are incomprehensible.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Headquarters District of South Alabama
Fort Morgan
November 28, 1864

Dear Mary,

I have just received your letter acknowledging the receipt of one written to Julia from New Orleans. I take it for granted that your fears for me are gratuitous. In fact I feel more secure here than at any place I have been stationed at since I was in the telegraph service. I do not take the fever easily for I keep altogether too lean and have too much fun of the style called levity—besides this invigorating and stimulating sea breeze which though it did not agree with Fred seems to be the panacea for all my ills, tend conjointly to keep me in an unusual state of health and cheerfulness. Besides, you know the news of the Union arms being successful is enough to keep me in spirits. So I don’t fear the fevers very much. I don’t intend to live a very irregular life and there is in fact little chance to sin that way in the field.

Here I returned after I saw Fred well and back again to his post, grateful, thankful, cheerful, and happy. Glad to escape from the influence, expense, and loneliness of the great city. I noticed that I always feel best and happiest in the open air shone upon by the clear sun fanned by these delicious sea breezes or blown off my feet by the breath of a good chilling keen clear Norther Country for me and while in the service the camp! At the present moment I sit in a kind of barn, each separate crack of which admits a pleasant amount of Heaven light and air, writing at a pitch pine table of sturdy build accompanied by a diminutive stove of the “box pattern,” all in comfort and serenity. Outside the soldiers’ busy clamor and pleasant chat and laughter makes the air vibrate with a pleasant discord making the place seem sociable. The aide and A.A.G. in the next room (pleasant fellows) are ready to listen to another joke or story. A slat bed of my own manufacture adorns the corner and a pitcher of water, was basin, and glasses adorn the opposite one supported by the dignity of a good broom and flanked by shelves holding books, envelopes, stationery, an old hat, and sundry articles of merit and usefulness.

The windows are on canvas, opaque of course, but rather comfortable during the blasts of Northers. Here is the headquarters of the United States Telegraph for Mobile Bay and by special favor this individual stands in charge of said institution. Shells are to be found along the beach which while a pensive moment often times as I stroll the beach. Sand is the staple production of this interesting point of land and also the staple object of remark. No mud bothers unlucky pedestrians so grumble as one may he could be worse off and I don’t grumble. I have been trying my talent at story telling lately and kept it up for three days. Came out the acknowledged master of the minstrels in that line and settled down again. I am reading Pickwick which I find decidedly entertaining. Various kinds of reading fall in our way contributed by the staff. Also out door amusements among which was the execution of a devil in soldiers clothes, etc. (shot dead).

My friend and companion Warren of the Signal Corps has gone up the bay leaving me the charge of writing to his friends “if anything happens.” I answered him with the equivocal common place, “I shall be happy to do so!” That is our agreement then.

All of the fleet is up the bay towards Mobile out of sight. The Hartford has sailed for the North with the Admiral on board and all hands are waiting patiently to hear if the Rebels have found Mr. Sherman. That is now the chief topic. Fred don’t write me so I can’t tell just now where he is or how. You may write again and I shall do so just as soon as anything occurs here but at present it is as quiet and uninteresting as a season of school teaching to me here. By the way, I made the A.A.I.G, A.Q.M., A.A.G., and Q.M. Clerk all acknowledge to having been school marms once! Hadn’t I ought to be at home? Yours affectionately, — Milton