104th New York Infantry - Wounded at Gettysburg

Item LTR-10958

Description

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



Fort Schuyler General Hospital
 
December the 25^th 1863
 
Dear Friend Susan,
 
I wish you a Merry Christmas and all the rest the folks. It is with much pleasure I take my pen to inform you that I am well and enjoy good health.  Hoping that you this same holy day may enjoy the same great blessing.  I received your kind and welcome letter on the 24^th and was glad to hear from you once more.  I thought that I would not put of writing this time than I did before. So, I am bound to write so let the mouse nibble the spider.  May rain and storms may sweep by and darken the sky.  But for all, I am resolved to show you that I don’t forget my friends as quick as you perhaps think.  For a good friend is better than gold or silver.  Lover’s flowers will last and when tempests darken the past; they will raise their drooping heads and their richest fragrance sheds upon the rain and make all fair and beautiful around love.  What richer born can man or woman desire.  What holier things can angels bring to mortal man on earth. King Solomon had all his heart desired.  But all fades and flies away.  But pure love will live forever.  I wish that I could spend this day with you.  But it is so that I cannot.  So, I wish you all the happiness this earth can afford.  I am glad to hear that you have good times.  But Susan, remember that those pleasures of this earth are short.  So, when you have a good time, always remember me.
 
Susan, this is a very fine day.  Everything looks lovely.  I suppose tonight we will have a big time.  There is going to be a great supper given us.  But I cannot say what it will be yest.  This is still Christmas.  So far, the boys are most all been sent back to their regiments.  There are only sixteen out of fifty-two left.  I am the only one of our regiment that is left here.  I think that I will stay here all winter and if I can, I am going to get a furlough between now and spring and come home once more to stir up the old bones around Grove Center. So. you can make up your mind.  Be ready for a bit time.  A time to be long remembered. I had some big times since I left home.  You can believe me.  But it will not do make then now.
 
Susan, there is nothing very new going on here nowadays.  But I tell you about three men the other night became very wanting for something to drink.  So, by a sad mistake, drank some poison.  One of them soon kicked the bucket and the other two became very sick. The one died.  He going a great victory over the other two because we all will have to die sooner or later. If a man dies here they make a short sermon over him.  As I suppose they think that they can get more any time.  But Susan, I was all the time thinking who your guardian, was to that space in Mudville and I cannot make out anybody but Saint John.  If it was bad luck to him.  But for all this please tell me in your next letter how near I came to the man I know and you know.  That I am a poor hand to guess anything.  But excuse me if I did not guess the right one.  But let that go now.  You tell me that John Grunder goes to see Hannah.  I am not much surprised about that.  For I could of told you when I was home that John would soon be drawn by the tender cords of that lovely Hannah and poor John fell in the arms of loving kindness.  John, he may for a short time been well.  But I think that his Hannah will soon become a burden to him.  But for all that I care but little about.  I think that John did not make a very wise choice.  He had been better kept by Mary Sider.
 
But Susan, I must now bring to a close for I am most run out of talk.  So, I hope to hear from you soon.  For I am always glad to hear from you.
 
No matter how long or short news or no news, please write soon and often and I remain your friend until death.
 
I wish you all a Merry Christmas to Lib George, Shepard, Chaney Forman, Catherine Husong, Mary Husong, Loren Hussons and to all.
 
This from your best friend,
 
John Wiederight
 
To Susan Sylor