Category Archives: 144th New York Infantry

144th New York Infantry, Hilton Head, South Carolina

1864-65: Abram Bogart to his Wife

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I could not find an image of Abram but here is one of Henry Betts who was a private in Co. D, 144th New York Infantry. (Photo Sleuth)

The following letters were written by 40 year-old Abram Bogart (1825-1899) of Masonville, Delaware county, New York. Abram enlisted on 15 August 1862,  at Sidney, Delaware County, for a period of three years and was mustered into the 144th New York Infantry Regiment, Co. I, on 27 September 1862. At the time of his enlistment he was 37 years old and was described as being a light-haired, blued-eyed farmer who stood 5 feet 4 inches tall. He was transferred to Co. K, on 15 October 1862. He mustered out with his company on June 25, 1865, at Hilton Head, S.C. After the  war he returned home where he worked as a farmer with his wife Mary, and their three children.

The greatest numbers of casualties incurred by the regiment was during its service on Folly Island during the siege of Charleston, South Carolina. Contaminated drinking water caused severe illnesses amongst almost the entire regiment. So many men became ill with diarrhea that a board of surgeons was appointed to determine which men would be eligible for furloughs so that they could recover from the sickness. A convalescent camp was established at St. Augustine, Florida where many of the men spent their illness-caused furloughs. The regiment lost 217 men during service: 2 officers and 37 enlisted men killed and mortally wounded and 4 officers and 174 enlisted men by disease. The most frequent causes of death listed for the many members of the Regiment who died of disease included typhoid fever and chronic diarrhea.

Letter 1

Addressed to Mr. Abram Bogart, Masonville, Delaware county, New York

July 22, 1864
Hilton Head, South Carolina

Dear Wife and Children,

It is with pleasure that I send a few lines to you to let you know that I am in the land of the living and in good spirits yet, and hope you are the same though I don’t hear from you in some time. There is not much news here at present, but there is talk of another raid in a few days from here, but there is nothing certain about it. There has one died from Co. B that was wounded in the last raid and the rest are on the gain.

We have commenced building barracks here now but I don’t think that we shall finish them for I don’t think we shall stay so long in one place. But some think that we shall winter here and I am sure I don’t care where we stay for it is the same to me whether on the march or in camp if I can hear that you are all well at home. So you must write as often as you can and tell what the neighbors are doing if you can for I should like to hear what is going on around there. And tell James to write if he can, or send me a weekly paper instead for they come right through when sent from the North.

Today is Monday, the 25th of July, and the same monotony in camp as usual is the case. I want you to take good care of the children and not send Cassie to school when she is not well enough to stand it for you know that they are our all in this world and they are entrusted to your care and comfort now, and you must be their guardian while on earth. And if they are called by death, you will know that it is all right. And also take care of yourself for it is better to live in poverty than in contentions, and the way of the wicked for their paths are strewn with thorns. And a contented mind is a continual feast no matter what our rations are, [even] ff it is a cup of water and dry hardtack and raw meat.

Well you must excuse me for not writing more for I don’t know how you will like this for I am bothered with the sun headache and can’t think what to write. Ever yours as true as the sky is blue. — Abram Bogart

Letter 2

Hilton Head, South Carolina
August 5, 1864

Dear Wife and Children,

It is with pleasure that I write to you to let you know that I am in the land of the living, and have tolerable good health at this time, and hope you are the same. You spoke in your letter that you had got some things to take care of and a garden to hoe, and how do you get along with it? And have you any chickens to eat this fall? And [you said] that you had rather hear that I was killed in battle than to hear that I was  under arrest. Now I had rather serve my time out in some fort than be in this aristocratical army for it gets worse every day for we have got to have everything scoured and polished til you can see your [face] in it. And the Rebs can see our guns glisten as far as they can see us, and they know right where to shoot, and we can’t see them—only by their smoke—and we can’t sight our guns for they glisten so that it  hurts our eyes and draws the sun so that we are getting sun struck when we ought to be the best, and then have to retreat to save ourselves and sick. There is as many again die here as gets killed in battle on that account and that is the  reason we get sick of it. And the officers put on airs and strut about and find fault with the men and punish  them for nothing, but when it goes to a court martial, then they are done for.

I am back to the company and nothing found against me after laying off from the 21st June til the eighth of August, and now I am almost a mind  to try them now, but the old saying is the more that you stir a turd, the worse it stinks, so I think that I shall let them be this time. So you see how it is now and I don’t want you to feel bad for I have told you that when the worst comes to worst, that I should look out for myself and so I shall never fear.

I don’t see why my folks don’t write to me anymore, or have they got ashamed of me. If so, just let me know it for I don’t want to think that I have got friends when I haven’t got any for I hate assumed friends anywhere, for that is the great curse in this war, and when we are out of sight, they are against us. And I think it is time there was a sifting of the wheat and see who is right and who is wrong, for it is in the army as it is  in the country, when they are with you, they are friends, and when you are away, they will talk about you and find fault with what you do. And it is just so with the generals. One finds fault with the other, and that is the way with this army down here. And then they say that they can’t depend on the troops, and  the private has it after all.

I should like to have you see some of the slaves as they are on the plantations with all their notions for they have been made to believe that the Yankees have horns and tails like an ox and are great thieves and robbers and destroy everything where they go. And to see them roll their eyes when they see the Yankee soldiers come around the plantations and the little ones hide and then come to their Ma and say I don’t see any horns and some of them are as pretty as a nigger can be—slim and straight—and they hain’t over black around here, but are very timid and keep off as far as they can.

Well, you say that if I want to say anything to you, I must put it on a separate piece of paper. Well, I should like to know if you are willing that I should get breakfast for you some Sunday morning and how you would pay for it and whether to or not be particular about it if I should take out my pipe to spit after eating for I am getting awfully in want by this time and would like to know how you stand it for want of help by this time, or have you got a past want in those things pertaining to nature. Well, I guess you will think that I have got a foolish spell. So good by, — Abram Bogart

Letter 3

Hilton Head, South Carolina
September 22, 1864

Dear Friends,

It is with madness that I write unto you at this time for I have just heard that James has enlisted to come  to the war and leave his aged parents to mourn in their old age for a protector and confidential son when there was no need of his leaving them for there is no draft that can fetch him away at present. I  don’t see what he can be thinking of to enlist and leave his family and parents alone in these times that they need him the most and he is expected on the next boat, but I hope he ain’t coming.

I should like to step in your house and see how you get along without money for it goes hard for me and it must be still harder for you. But we expect our pay soon and then I will divide with you the money and also the anxiety for your welfare and comfort and hope that your lives may be spared until we all shall get home again to enjoy a season of rest from the tumults and trials of war, and see the Star Spangled Banner wave over rebellious graves and the Nation once more in peace with the world, and give freedom to them that are in bondage and liberty to the poor soldier that is worse than slavery in any form for they are treated worse than beasts, for they are not allowed to go anywhere without a pass or they will punish you, and the officers won’t give a pass unless they are a mind to and that’s where they have us. So you see that we are worse than slaves.

Well the mail has come and I will wait and see if I get a letter from you. Well, some of the new recruits have got here and James is one of them, and Mr. Burch of  Masonville, and they think they know something of soldiering already, but they have just commenced to know trouble. Well, there was another lot come last night and about 250 others came on another boat and they feel middling well today (23rd) and are satisfied. James brought a letter from you and I got one by mail the same day of September 11th. I am thankful for the things that you and the children sent me, but the sugar was most melted when it got here, but it was sweet yet. Tell the children and the other things are credited to you and I will pay you if I get home if that will do. Some of the boys haven’t got here yet, but are expected here soon. Well, as you are not alone in widowhood now, I hope that you will keep your lamp trimmed for the bridegroom at his coming and not be found out oil on hand. Well, I suppose that you know what I mean. Look out for the long storms of winter are coming soon when it will be hard for you to get out to get things to live on.

I am about the same yet as ever but am rather lame to put up with but it can’t be helped. So good bye for a day, — Abram Bogart

Letter 4

Hilton Head, South Carolina
October 8th 1864

Dear Wife and Children,

It is with pleasure that I send a few lines to you to let you know that I am here and am like to stay for what I see, but James and Gilbert are in the First N. Y. Engineers Regiment, and a lot more that enlisted for the 144th and I wish that I was there too. And James is gone to the general hospital so I am left alone again and I am glad that they had some good luck in getting out of the regiment for they seen enough to convince them to get out if they could and they improved the chance for it was no place for them here.

Silas Olmsted is in the hospital and the rest from our place are well for what I know. Franklin Stoddard and [John W.] Hoskin are in the tent with me and the rest from there are in Co. H and B, what are here, and the rest that are left behind have got to go in another regiment. So you can see what they get by enlisting for the 144th. They have got to go just where they send them.

Sunday. I have been down to the hospital to see James and he is on the gain I think, and is very contented and thinks he is in a good place now, and has good care and Gilbert was to my tent so I guess that he is well and he thanks his stars that he is out of the regiment and has nothing to do with the 144th Heavy Artillery which they never was nor never will be.

Tuesday morning and I have just come off picket and it was rather cold in  the night for this place, but I got warm as soon as I heard that there was a letter here for me, and I got it before I unharnessed myself and read it, and it was a joy to hear that you was all well at that date. But you didn’t say anything about James’s folks nor Gilbert’s, and I guess you had better next time for I want to know what [they] think of being alone this winter. And I should like to know which is the loneliness of you all and how you get along. And tell Jeremiah that he must do the best that he can for the widows that are left to his care.

There was a  lot more soldiers came here today for our regiment, but they were turned over to the engineers for them to manage. They felt rather bad to be turned off, but I think they will get over it in a few days when they have a chance to see how it is here, and what they have to do, and how they are treated [by] their officers.

You must not try to do too much and get sick yourself for then who would take care of the children, much less yourself. It is better to have less and health than to not enjoy the fruit of your labor after you have got it and try to get along as well as you can this winter for I think the war is almost done. But it will take some time to get around. But the fighting is about done. The deserters that come in now say it is and they come in by the hundreds everyday with us and more in other places. There was over a hundred come from Charleston last week.

This from your ever loving, — Abram

Letter 5

Hilton Head, South Carolina
December 21, 1864

Dear Wife and Children,

It is with prospects of hearing from you that I write a few lines to let you know that I have not forgotten you nor yours and hope that these few lines will find you in good health and spirits. My health is very good but my lameness is quite bad for a few days so that I have to rest for a few days from guard and the rest of the boys are on duty all the time while the regiment are out. And how much longer they will stay, we do not know.

We like our duty here very much and we have good quarters to stay in. Our rooms are for eight to stay in where we can have a stove in if we are a mind to buy one and there is good bunks to sleep on and a good cookroom to work in.

General Sherman has come through here so that the Confederacy is cut in two now and both army’s will be together in a few days for they are only forty-five miles apart now and Savannah is between them with all the railroads in our hands and the place must fall soon, and then Charleston will come next, and Sherman is the man to drive the Rebs to their holes and whip them too before the war will end. There is quite a number of Sherman’s men here to go home that have been gone over three years from home and I wish that I could go with them.

There is a report here that Savannah is ours and if it is not, it will be in a few days for Sherman is on all sides of it and our men are  between there and Charleston with quite a force with them where they are fortified for a fair fight on their own terms or else the Rebs have got to go around them to get away from Sherman. And if they do, it will be a race for Charleston of sixty miles with united forces.

It is quite cold weather here now for the place has frozen ice here for three nights in a row and the wind goes right through a fellow on guard. I  have just got a letter from Charles’ folks and they said that you was all well. James was here yesterday and he says that he feels better than he has for two years, and I think that he looks better than I have  seen him in that time, and I went up to the dock with him and in the town and he out walked me all together and would [have] went over to nigger town if I could stand it, but I could not, so we went into a saloon and had some pancakes and [mo]lasses and came home. And today I am in my quarters  lamer than ever. But I shall get over it in a few days and go at it again.

Sunday. The island is covered with troops from Sherman’s men that are waiting to go home and they have brought a lot of Rebel prisoners here with them for us to take care of and some are sick and some are wounded and look hard. I went down and saw James today and he has got some Rebs to take care of.

This is a new town built since the war began and is a military town and used for that purpose and is fortified with entrenchments and stockade posts ten feet high on the outside and the stockade is six miles long with three gates to pass out and in that are guarded day and night and no one can pass without a pass and the entrenchments mount about forty guns besides the forts that mount sixty guns more. And we do the guard duty in the entrenchments and dock, and headquarters guard, and then there is forts on the outside and pickets there besides ours some twelve or fifteen miles from here, but this is the main boat landing for this department and the whole South and everything is first fetched here and then sent to  other posts in the South so it makes a business place of [it] here and we have mail every week, here from New York in three days, and Rebel news when we can get it, and we have to pay ten cents for New York papers. I should like to get a weekly but I am too poor to take one at present and how is it with you?  Do you take a paper? If not, try and get one if you can spare the money for it is company for you these  long nights to read, and you can tell how the war goes in some places. And you can send one to me now  and then to wile away the hours for papers come when letters don’t sometimes.

Sunday evening and I thought that I would send a few lines more to you to let you know what rumor is in camp. They say that a vessel has sunk loaded with soldiers for this place and all was lost onboard but there is no certainty about it. And they say that I am going to be transferred to the Invalid Corps but I don’t believe that neither till I see it for I am not fit for duty and have not done much for the last year, though my health is tolerably good yet. And I guess that I can worry out another year in the same way if they want I should, and live, but it is hard to stay here when I can’t do them any good more than eat  rations.

Well, today is Monday afternoon and we had a very heavy rain here this morning and it looks like raining more and the weather is cool and refreshing and James is some better today. I go and see him two and three times a day. He has very good care now for the army has nourishing food to eat and I  think that he will get along if something else don’t set in and they don’t change doctors and I don’t think there is any chance for that. Well there has some more recruits got here this afternoon about 240 in this  batch and they think they have some hard times in getting here but they will see what soldiering is. Now,  you must certainly write.

This from Abram Bogart

Letter 6

Hilton Head, South Carolina
May 21, 1865

Dear Wife and Children,

In love and friendship ever would that I could speak to you face to face, but it seems to be other ways ordered at present. I am not very well today but am in hopes that life and health will be granted us to all meet again in our own native land once more for every week seems a month with me now.

Well, I got a letter from you yesterday and was glad to hear that you and yours are well and hope that you will remain well till I get home again all right. There was some United States troops here yesterday that expected to stay and got all of their things in the yard and then was  ordered to Florida and left before night again and when there will be others come, we don’t  know, but am in hopes it will be soon. There is every sort of rumor here as well as there about our going home soon. I have not heard from James nor Gilbert since I last wrote to you for it is about sixty-five miles from here to Charleston and we don’t have to go there since Johnston surrendered. There is no more soldiers going to their regiments, but go to New York instead of coming from there here, but it is all the other way and I am glad of it for my part so that some can get home [even] if I can’t. But our turn will come by & by, I think, for there is a good deal of talk about going and I think we shall come between this and July. There is some a going on this  boat that are unable to do anything here.

I should like to know if there is any chance for you to sell the place at a pretty high price and what you think of living in the South where the winter is not so cold and as for the summer, I don’t think there is much difference in the heat and the land is richer here too and easier to work. And everything will grow here that will grow there and some things that won’t. But you must make your own choice for you must have a mind of your own by this time. There is a great many Union prisoners here from Rebeldom to go to their homes in the North and some have been prisoners a long time and won’t there be joy for a son and husband  when they get home. It is estimated that about fifty thousand have been sent North from here in  the last two months and still they are coming in every few days.

Wednesday the 24, and it is warm and pleasant and everything is quiet here this morning and I am as well as usual for me and I must close this letter for the boat goes tomorrow morning and you  must be of good cheer for I think it will be all right yet and I am having it very easy now and  enough to eat for I live with the hospital nurses and sleep on a good bed with them. Yours in love, — Abram Bogart

127th New York Infantry, 144th New York Infantry, 25th Ohio Infantry, 35th USCT, 55th Massachusetts (Colored), Battle of Honey Hill

1864: John Bally to Horace Swallow Reed

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This letter was written by a Swiss emigrant named John Bally (1827-1902) who arrived in the United States in 1849. After his first wife Clara Dickson (1828-1859) died in 1859, John remarried to Harriet E, Marvin (1838-1911). In the 1850 US Census, John was enumerated in Oswego, New York, where he worked as a silversmith. By 1860 he had relocated to Deposit, New York, where he was identified as a “watchmaker” or a “jeweler.” John received his naturalization papers from the State of New York in April 1855.

When the Civil War began in 1861, John offered his services as a musician in the regimental band of the 41st New York Infantry. He served in the band from June 1861 until he was discharged on 7 October 1862 by order the War Department when it was determined that regimental bands were an unnecessary war expenditure. He later reenlisted as a musician in Co. A, 144th New York Infantry on 30 August 1864 and was mustered out on 25 June 1865 at Hilton Head, South Carolina.

John’s letter contains a very good description, recounted by those who survived it, of Gen. John P. Hatch’s Expedition up the Broad River on 29-30 November 1864 and specifically of the Battle of Honey Hill on the 30th. From Boyd’s Landing on the Broad River, Hatch’s forces—half of them Black troops–launched an attack on the railroad junction at Gopher Hill, 36 miles northeast of Savannah and 84 from Charleston. Due to delays in their arrival, Rebel forces anticipated their attack and were able to amass 1400 militia to join the South Carolina cavlary and artillerymen under Col. Charles Colcock in fixed fortifications at Honey Hill.

In a series of failed attacks on the rebel fortification that have since been attributed to the “irresolute leadership” of Gen. Hatch, the Union forces suffered 746 casualties. The first assault was made by the 35th United States Colored Troops (USCT) regiment up the Grahamville Road to Honey Hill. After they were repulsed, the 55th MA (Colored) regiment charged up the Grahamville Road to Honey Hill three times, each charge with 5 of 8 companies in field column. During the second assault, a supporting charge on their left flank by the 127th New York was orchestrated but all three of these charges were repulsed. Finally the 25th OVI charged unsupported on the Confederate rifle-pits north of Honey Hill and was also repulsed. Each assault was repulsed and defeated in detail as the Confederates were allowed to concentrate sequentially their fire on one Union attack at a time. Between and during these assaults, the front line Union regiments engaged the Confederate position with small arms fire. [Sources: The Battle of Honey Hill, by Lowell D. Hamilton, and Civil War Letters & Diary of Henry W. Prince, 127th New York State Volunteers]

Rebels delay the approach of Union forces with fire and bullets at Honey Hill

Death of John Bally

Elmira, N. Y., Sept. 19.–John Bally, senior member of the jewelry house of John Bally & Son, 330 E. Water St., was buried to-day. Mr. Bally’s death, which occurred Tuesday at his home, 311 Columbia St., was due to heart failure, superinduced by acute indigestion.

The deceased was a prominent citizen of this city as well as one of its oldest Jewelers. He was born in Geneva, Switzerland. July 16, 1827, and attended school and college in his native country. In early life he learned the trade of watchmaker, and when 21 years old he left Switzerland to seek his fortune in the United States.

He located first in New York, where he became employed as watchmaker by the old house of Ball, Black & Co., and shortly afterwards moved to Oswego, where he remained for about three years. During his stay in Oswego he married Miss Clara Dickinson, and later moved to Buckingham and finally to Deposit. In this last place he remained for 11 years, and during his stay there his wife died, and he subsequently married Miss Harriet Marvin.

Toward the latter part of the Civil War Mr. Bally joined the 144th New York Volunteers and served until 1865. After the war Mr. Bally moved to Elmira, which city was his home for the remainder of his life. The firm of John Bally & Son, of which Louis E. Bally, Jr., is a member, was the one interest to which the deceased devoted all his energy until he retired from business a short time ago. Besides being a practical jeweler and a successful merchant, Mr. Bally was also an artist of considerable ability.

The deceased was a Mason, was a member of the Patriarchs’ Club, and was one of the oldest members of the Park Church. He is survived by his seven children– four sons and three daughters.

Source: The Jewelers’ Circular and Horological Review – 24th September 1902

John wrote the letter to his friend Horace Swallow Reed (1824-1891), the proprietor of a marble works in Deposit, New York. Horace was married to Francis Elizabeth Hull (18xx-1907). In the 1860 US Census, Horace was identified as an hotel keeper in Dorset, Bennington county, Vermont, but ten years prior to that he was in the marble business.

Transcription

Addressed to H. S. Reed, Esq., Deposit, Delaware county, New York

Hilton Head, South Carolina
December 8th 1864

Mr. H. S. Reed
Dear Sir & Brother,

It is now almost four months since I left home and at this late date only have I at last made up my mind to write a few lines to you. The reason why I have not done so previously was not that I had forgotten you, far from it, as in almost all my letters to my wife I have sent you my compliments, but not having anything of interest to write, I thought I would wait and when something worth writing about should take place, I would then give you the news. Now that our regiment has broke up its long resting spell and that war in its ugly form has begun in earnest around us, then I thought that a few lines would be acceptable to you.

Last Monday a week ago, our regiment embarked aboard transports with other troops from Florida & Morris Island and some negro troops, among them the 26th Colored—the regiment in which our colored boys from Deposit are in and who were stationed at Beaufort S. C., about 10 miles from here. They started up Broad River with the intention of cutting off the railroad connecting Savannah with Charleston. After some severe blunders and considerable time lost, they effected a landing and after marching a few miles, met the enemy in force who gave them battle, and who, by the way, set a large marsh on fire so that our boys had to fight fire and bullets, saying nothing of shells which the rebel’s artillery threw away with great liberality.

The news that I give you I gathered from wounded brought here in the hospital, not having the pleasure of being a participant nor any eye witness, the Band having been left behind, to learn some new pieces and to guard the camp—-I do not know which, but here we are—and what I am writing about you, you must take it as I have but at the same time as all seemed to give the same story it must be near the truth.

“All who have come back to camp says without exception that the colored troops fought splendidly and that no better fighting was ever done. They made charge after charge to the mouth of them guns, but to no avail. But friend Reed, had you been here and saw the poor wounded when brought to the hospital, you might have found your blood taking fire—nay anxious—to go and avenge them.”

—John Bally, musician in 144th New York, 8 December 1864

On Tuesday and Wednesday our troops drove the Johnnies some four miles till they came upon strong breastworks, well defended with heavy artillery. They, not being sufficiently strong to carry them, they fell back to their starting point [with] our regiment—the 144th [New York Infantry], covering the retreat. All who have come back to camp says without exception that the colored troops fought splendidly and that no better fighting was ever done. They made charge after charge to the mouth of them guns, but to no avail. But friend Reed, had you been here and saw the poor wounded when brought to the hospital, you might have found your blood taking fire—nay anxious—to go and avenge them. For my part, I almost cursed my being in the band and thought it the place of a coward. But if I was not permitted to fight, I done the next [best] thing, and that was to volunteer in the hospital and take care of my poor brother soldiers.

During the engagement we could plainly hear the cannonading and every report would make me jump out of my boots, feeling so much anxiety for the result of the fight, knowing the small number of troops sent there and the facilities of the rebs in concentrating theirs. We lost, as near as I can find out, from 800 to 900 men. Our regiment lost about 88 killed, wounded & missing.

I told you our troops fell back to the landing under the protection of the gunboats and then entrenched themselves. Since, they have made several reconnaissance’s and the last news from the front who came here today is that by another road they have turned the rebs’ earthworks and have drove them to half mile from the railroad and now command the road. This was done Tuesday this week and today some heavy artillery is being sent to the front. A load of prisoners has just come up and judging from their appearance, the rebs must be pretty hard up. They are old men and boys from 14 to 16 years old.

In this last fight our forces were very lucky and had all the advantage. The Rebs left in our hands all their killed and wounded, things which they did not in the first fight. It seems that by that flank movement our artillery took them with an enfilading fire and mowed them down by the score. Today we are informed that Gen. Foster, who is in command of our troops, has received a message from Sherman, who is now near Savannah, and that movement against that railroad was—and is, without any doubt—to cut up reinforcements that Lee might send against him.

This afternoon for about two hours, a very heavy cannonading was distinctly heard in the direction of Savannah and we all think and hope that it is Sherman thundering at its gates. May God grant that it may be so. According to the appearances and judging from the amount of ordnance and ammunition sent to the front with the large number of entrenching tools, all go to show that Foster means to hold the position he has gained, and by that means cooperate with Sherman.

There is a bridge in that locality called the Pocotaligo bridge; that bridge is two miles long and a trestle work ten miles long over a large swamp. I do not now think the intention is to destroy it. If they can [just] hold it, it will be of great use in the future. I understand that our artillery knocked off a train of cars yesterday and that they do not run any more trains over it. But what I write about is only my opinion formed by what I gather around me and I give it to you for what its worth and not be be relied on any more than what you may read not officially though I think it pretty near the truth. I presume that the New York papers have heard from this quarter by this time and you will have chance to compare notes.

Our friend, Charles Ediely [?] was among the unlucky—or rather the lucky ones. He is wounded—a slight flesh would over the left shoulder enough to make him pretty mad but that will keep him in camp till after this execution is over. Told his father that he musn’t trouble himself about him. He is doin finely. Now Friend Reed, a few more words about myself. Here I am doing nothing, or rather doing no duty but what we volunteer to do. It is lonesome enough here since the regiment went away and aside from learning some new music, nothing for us to do. When the regiment was here, we had our hands full. But now, escorting dead soldiers to their last resting place constitutes our main business— rather lonesome one it is.

I have written to Ellicot Evans a good while ago to send me the Gen. Lyons Funeral March that our band at home used to play but I have not seen anything of it yet. I would give most anything for it. When you see him, please remember it to him, if you please. I am enjoying the best health in the world and as we Band are messing together, we have the best kind of rations and of course are benefitted by it. My quarters are very good. I have a good A tent with boards all around it and a good floor, have a little stove in it and am just as comfortable as can be. The weather here is delightful. It is warmer here than June at home and have had fire but twice in the evening so far. Mosquitos, flies, fleas, &c. are plenty here; butterflies are flying around us the whole day long and were it not for the leaves of the trees falling off of their own account, we would not dream that it is winter. I should like to settle in this country, but before I make up my mind I want to see what the summer will be.

I play in the Band the E6 Tenor in place of Eb Soprano and I would not change for anything. it is a good part and I can play the whole day long without getting tired. I hope to keep that part till we get through.

My wife sent me one of the last Deposit papers and in it I read the account of the burning of the railroad depot. I am very sorry of that misfortune and furthermore very sorry of the loss you have sustained in marble but I hope there is a remedy for you [paper torn] of course must be responsible for it. I hope that G. Smith & Stop [ ] are not fatally hurt, but they will get well.

Well, Friend Reed, the Elections are over and our old stand by Abe Lincoln reelected. It was a sad blow to the copperheads—at least we think so here by their twisting and mourning—but thanks be to God the country is not to be sacrificed just yet and according to appearances, the war seems to be pretty well going the last pull. Could you but see the men they have to fight with, you would think so. Well, how does the time with you? Full of worry I suppose. Jack Batchelder with you yet? And our old band? What has become of it? out of existence? It must be so as I have not heard it mentioned in this last campaign but saw that bands from abroad were employed a home. I wish you could hear our band place. I tell you, we made it ring and can stand a long pull to play 15 or 20 pieces with considerable marching is nothing for [us] and do not mind it.

Do you go once in awhile over the river and see my lonely little wife. If not, I must scold at you and make it up. I would be very much pleased to have you tell me how you think she is getting along and if you think my absence was for the worst or better for her. I hope that your dear family is all well. I would like to be remembered to your wife and her Mother. Assure them that I shall never forget them but think of the good times we have had together very often and live in hope that after a few months, we will be permitted to enjoy the same blessing again.

How is the Lodge prospering. When you get this letter, it will be election time. Hope you will have a good lot of officers. I wish you would give my best respects to the brethren and tell them that when Wednesday night comes, I often think of our pleasant meetings and often wish I could be there with them. Remember me in particular to Mr. Hadley & Croker. Is the Chapter lodge organized yet? Give me some of the news there. I was forgetting your children. Please remember me to them. I will stop writing for the present as the mail boat will not leave here till sometime next week and probably before that time events of importance may take place that will interest you. I was alone tonight and felt just like having a long chat with you and I think I have improved it pretty well. So good night for the present, and pleasant dreams. For my part, I must turn in and try to dream of my loved ones at home.

Monday the 11th, ’64

There is an extra mail boat starting tomorrow and having good news now I finish this letter today. A Captain with 6 scouts has just come here and announced the arrival of Sherman at Savannah with his army. They say he must have possession of the place by this time. A salute his being fired here and some gunboats & monitors are starting for Savannah. Please tell my wife that I have received yesterday 3 letters—one from our children, one from Emiline, and one from Elliott Evans. The Fulton—the regular steamer—will be here soon and I will write home by it. This time I send her only one newspaper—the Palmetto Herald. Tell her I am well and send her my love. Now Friend Reed, I hope to hear from you. Give my best regard to Mrs. Reed and Mother and your children. As for yourself, take the lion’s share. In hope that this may reach you alright, I remain fraternally yours, — John Bally