The following letter is dated but unsigned. We only know that the author served in the extensive Army of the James. Based on the evidence present, it is reasonable to deduce that he was likely an officer, as he exhibits a level of education indicative of such a rank. The quality of the pen and writing paper utilized, combined with the evident time taken to compose the letter, further supports this assumption. Moreover, the neatness of the writing suggests that the author possessed a writing desk or table suitable for such tasks and these were generally only carried by officers.

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

Army of the James
City Point
February 1865

Mother, no word in our language has so deep hold on the heart strings of men as the simple term, Mother, and although we often conduct ourselves in such a manner that we ought not to be allowed to have any mother, yet it is a cruel wrench that can tear her image from our souls, although we may be sin-steeped until our moral nature has lost all traces of the image of Him in whom we are created, yet on memory’s map will be left some of the tracings of a mother’s influence.

I would be most happy this Sabbath morning if permitted to spend it in the society of her who watched over my infancy and has been my best adviser all through life’s journey. Many has been the rock that I have dashed against driving along with passion at the helm, which if I had been content to let mother’s hand guide the bark, I would have escaped. Now, when it is too late, we think of those things. How vast is the number of human wrecks that lie scattered along life’s shore that have been lost for the simple reason that they would not let her, who knew their natures better than they did themselves, guide them, lay miserable failures along the road which, if mother had been minded, might have reached the haven, richly laden with honor and the respect of their fellows with the pleasant consciousness of duty fulfilled, usefulness and self respect.

But moralizing cannot heal the past although I have too often rejected your counsel and am morally wrecked in consequence. Yet you will believe me when saying that there is nothing I can think of would give greater pleasure than to be at your side today and by any means save you from one pang of pain and my hearts desire, prayer, is that I may once more be permitted to see your face in peace and the blessings of peace, felt and appreciated all over our afflicted country.

A transient gleam of hope has for the few days past illuminated our war clouded skies. Men from Washington have visited Richmond. Vice President Stephens of the Bogus Confederacy left City Point for Fortress Monroe on Wednesday to meet Father Abraham at that place to talk the matter over, to see if there is not some way for bringing Peace once more to our land. Mother, the fact of the case is that Peace on any fair terms will be received by the soldiers of either side with transports of joy and thanksgiving. The flag of truce arrived in front of our lines in front of the City of Petersburg where there has not been scarcely a moment for the past six months when shot, shell, and Minié ball has not been flying at the former on either side. Yet the flag of truce was hailed with perfect transport of joy by the soldiers of both armies. The thought that Peace once more would come, then “Home Sweet Home” a happy reunion with the loved ones there so galvanized the boys with delight that shouts of joy rang along the lines, friend and foe joining in the chorus in a yell that would have drowned the thunders of fort.

Well, if she had been playing at the time, it proves that there is one chord that vibrates alike in the Northern and Southern heart and that is the love of home.