102nd Ohio Infantry - Hospital Steward

Item LTR-10560

Description

Original Civil War soldier's letter. 4 pages, written in period ink.


Office of Hospital
Clarksville

August 22, 1863

Dear Friend,

Tis night. Darkness has spread his sable mantle o’er the earth and stilled nature, wrapped in profound repose has sunk to rest. A thousand stars bedeck the blue vault of a cloudless southern sky. The moon – the queen of night – is rolling proudly through the heavens. But what is this so gentle and ambrosial that moves through the room? Why the wavy billowy undulation of the surrounding atmosphere? Tis nothing but the gentle zephyr which steals noiselessly through my open window to fan my burning brow (as the heat is intense). All seems to be at rest, except memory, and it is now roaming among the hills of Ohio. How pleasant it would be if I had the society of a lady friend to cheer the monotony of army life. But this cannot be, so you may rest assured that our letters are hailed with delight by your humble friend. Maria, tis the soldier’s greatest pleasure to hear from loved ones far away. Maybe he faces danger because he is cheered on by the smiles and encouraging words of dear friends at home.

Well, can I sympathize with you on account of the death of our dear brother. I have had the mournful satisfaction of standing by the bedside of a dying soldier brother. Brave boys. They have sealed the solemn compact of freedom with their lives. We hope they are now basking in the eternal sunlight of heaven where war is never waged. I had the pleasure of administering to the wants of our beloved friend Amos Ludlow during the first two weeks of his illness. Then my regiment was ordered to leave and I to go with them. I went to bid my old friend farewell. Hoping he would soon join us. He took my hand saying he would never see me again in this world. Ah yes, at that time the Angel of Death was hovering over him, to bear his spirit home. The next time I heard from him his body was resting beneath the red sand of Kentucky soil awaiting the sound of Gabriel’s Trumpet. His spirit had joined that innumerable throng where the roar of battle is hushed by the swelling anthems of angelic hosts.

This leaves me in good health hoping it may meet you the same. Write me soon.

Yours truly,

Hamilton McClurg

Direct as before. Adieu Dear.