United States--History--Civil War, 1861-1865; Bruen, Luther Barnett--Correspondence


4 pages


Camp near Peola Mills Nov. 22. 1863 My Dear Wife: I read yours of the 15th last night. It seems to be a long time before I hear of the receipt of my letters. It will be two weeks to-morrow since mine of the 9th was written, and an acknowledgement of its reception was only recd last night. I have written three letters since, I think, in one of which I sent you some rebel relics. The time seems to be very long; I feel as if I had been in the field a long time, but it is only two months. In camp time drags, and on the march, tho' there is little incident, generally, and they have never been tiresome to me, the effect on the mind is *commonly* to let the events of the few days previous, more or less remotely back into the past, so that to fix anything definitely, it is necessary to recess to your memorandum book. When it happens that my letters seem to be so long in reaching their destination and reflecting an answer back. Our fine weather has been varied by a day and night of steady rain. Today however it is bright and sunny and the ground is rapidly drying. And now that the roads are muddy the prospect of a move grows brighter. I think it quite certain that we shall leave our present camp in a few days, if it be only to get into another a short distance off. We may however penetrate, or try to, still deeper into the bowels of Virginia. As to that, we are as in the dark as ever. They keep their *counsels* pretty close on *Gen Head Qtrs.*, and whether they have settled upon any plan of campaign or if so, what that plan is we are alike ignorant. Our military *unclear* shake their heads and say they can't understand our movements -- they can't see how we *came* on by their route; nor if we did what we could accomplish if Gen. Meade doesn't consult with them often I think, & perhaps does not attach much importance to their opinions. I should very much like to know what our Gen in Chief proposes to do, but whatever that is, as my share in helping to carry it out will be of no great importance. I do not give myself much trouble about it intending to do my duty as well as I can anyway. I can easily imagine you are the *brains* in our old 'quarters' at home and often wish to be there with you. It would be very pleasant to see Robbie and Frank in their brand new boots, to nurse the baby and talk to Sella. By the way did I ever say anything to your proposition to add to the little one's name? If not, I suppose I may as well surrender to you the pretensions you set up to give the name whether I like it or not, as I am so far away I am afraid I should find it difficult to exercise my *unclear* effectually. I shall insist upon you stopping at this point, and not in some moment of super-affectionateness, *insert* *Mark Hoch Nannie Thornton* or any other of your very particular friends. We have a new order about sick officers. Hereafter sick leaves are not to be granted, but officers are to be sent to Division hospital as well as men, and when too sick to be carried about in ambulance, I suppose they will be sent to a General Hospital either in Alexandria or Washington. Thank fortune my health is very good and I don't think I am likely to fall ill now. The season is so late that the malaria is not very *infectious*, and I think I am prepared to withstand everything else, but bullets. If I should get one of them into my corpus, if it hadn't hurt me too badly, I would have an opportunity of going home a while to *see* my *family* once more. So, I am at the end of my sheet again, with precious little in it as usual, and must again say goodbye dearest to you and the *family*. Thine L.B.B. #Send me a few *postage stamps* in your next. Has the *trunk* arrived?#



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