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117th New York Infantry - Wounded at Fort Gilmer, VA

Item LTR-5489
April 5, 1863 Henry B. Allen
Price: $145.00


Original Civil War period letter, 3 pages, written in period ink.

Headquarters, 117th New York State Volunteers
Fort Baker, DC

April 5th [1863]

Dear Father,

I now sit down to write to you to let you know I am getting along. I am well and hope you are the same. I received your letter and was glad to hear that you were well. The day before I got your letter, I got one from Cousin Sophie asking me to go to the city and see if I could get a trunk that belonged to Guy. So I got a pass to the city and found the trunk and was going to send it home by G. Elden, but could not get it in time. But enough of this now.

I want to know why you have not sent me the papers. I have not heard from Frank since I wrote to you and shall write to him today. I think we shall get our pay this week. But don’t know. And I think we will leave here before long. But where we shall go I don’t know. When you write, tell me the price of cows and what the prospect of things are in general. I will now tell you what I have to do in the first place. We have roll call at daybreak. Then we eat our breakfast and then there is a party of ten men detailed to go to work on the fort. Then we have guard mount and the guard that was on the day before is relieved from all duty till roll call. And then they must answer to their names. If there is dress parade, they must be there. But if we are not on guard, we don’t have nothing to do with it. After guard mount, we go out to drill one hour and so we go from day to day. But I think I have wrote enough of this. I want to know if you intend to raise a pig this year. I think it would be the best thing you could do. But you know best. There is something else I want to say but I do not know what it is. Send me an almanac. It commenced to snow and is still snowing. The snow is nearly one foot deep.

Monday the 6th

It is a pleasant day. I can’t think of anything to wrote, so goodbye. Write as soon as you get this. I still remain

Your ever loving son,

Henry B. Allen