March 4, 1863

 
In Camp Near Falmouth March 4th, 1863 Dear Wife: Your letter of date Feb[ruary] 24th I received March 1th and was very happy to hear from you and that you was all well. Hoping that these lines will still find you and the children all well as it leaves me at present. As I have never been one minute sick yet since being in the service, you wanted me to try and get a furlough to come home. But it will cost me some considerable money. But to please you once more, I will try I will try and see what I can do. I spoke to [Captain James] Brunson this morning. He says he will do all he can. He is not our Captain. Our Captain has gone home to Canaday on a furlough and has not yet returned. If he was here, I could get one right away. We have a first-rate Captain. [James] Britt is his name. First-rate fellow he is, too. If I was you I would let the farm run to pasture and meadow first before I would rent it for $100 dollars per year. You can make more of butter and pork than that, I know. You can do as you please for all me. You wanted me to tell you in true if I got a Rebel ball in my foot. If you cannot believe me, you can believe them that told you to the contrary, if you like. It won’t disturb me one bit. Sarah, I would have answered your before this, but I have been on Picket for the last 2 days. So you must excuse me on that account. I am agoing to send this letter by one of our men in my Company that got shot on the shoulder at the laying of the pontoons at Fredericksburg to give it to [my brother] Bob to bring it to you. You may tell him that I have not got his letter yet. I have just one from Father. I will answer his letter as soon as I get time. He has not wrote me any thing new, I hear all that is agoing on and more so than if I was at home you may think not. Sarah my dear, I want you not to put any confidence of my coming home as the boys that was out here first—that has been in the Service for the last 18 months—they want to go first. So I cannot tell when I can come home. Perhaps you may never see me again. I can’t tell. I will try to please you all I can. I got my tent mate to send these few lines to you, to Mr. Wall as he was along with him. No more at present, but remain your most loving husband, John Bryden Please to write as soon as you receive this. My love to you and children. Next Letter Previous LetterPlaces.htmlNames.htmlPlaces.htmlNames.htmlPlaces.htmlNames.html63_4_17.html63_2_9.htmlhttp://livepage.apple.com/shapeimage_3_link_0shapeimage_3_link_1shapeimage_3_link_2shapeimage_3_link_3shapeimage_3_link_4shapeimage_3_link_5shapeimage_3_link_6shapeimage_3_link_7

Written in pencil on white 8.5” x 10” landscape-ruled rag paper, folded along the short axis into a 4-page signature. No watermark.


And as for the Rebel ball in his foot, I’m skeptical, too. Back in December, he said he stepped on a nail.