Letter written by Henry Welch, corporal in the 123rd New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Company K, to his mother from Camp near Kelly's Ford, Virginia, September 6, 1863
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WASHINGTOND. C. (District of Columbia) (Washington, District of
Columbia)
[date
unclear]
Mrs
Phebe
Welch (Welch, Luther (Mrs.,
Phebe))
North
Hebron
Washington
Co
NY (New York) (North Hebron, Washington County, New York)
Camp, near, Kellys FordVa (Virginia) (Kelly's Ford, Virginia) .
Sept. 6th, 1863, Dear Mother (Welch, Luther (Mrs., Phebe)) ,
It was with much pleasure
that I received a letter
from you
a few day's since and this
pleasant sabbath morning I
take
my ever faithful pen to write
a few words to you in
return.
I suppose that while I am writeing (writing)
these line's that you are attending
church away up there
with the rest
of my friends and relatives.
I would like very much
to have
a chance to go to church myself
to day, and I hope and
trust that
God will soon see fit to bless
us with peace once more
so that
we can all have an apertunity (opportunity) to
enjoy the blessing's which good
society bestows on every one.
We have no chaplain in our regiment
now we have no preaching and
the sabbath is passed with almost
every one as the other day's are,
there are a few that respects
the sabbath and they are known
well by their deeds, Mother (Welch, Luther (Mrs., Phebe)) when
I enlisted and came down here
I soon saw that I should be
exposed to many temptations and
I resolved that I would never
do anything while in the army
that I would be ashamed to have
my friends know. I resolved that
if I ever returned to my native
town that my character
should not be blackened by being
from the influence of my
friends, I saw plainly the
danger to which my life was
exposed and knew that I was
likely to die or be killed at
any moment and could not
help asking myself if I was
prepared to meet my God.
I could not help seeing how
sinful I had been I prayed
to him for forgiveness and
now I feel that he has forgiven
me. and now I pray that I
may always be found ready
to answer at his call, and
that I may alway's be reeady (ready)
to do my duty as a good soldier
to my country and to my God,
Dear Father (Welch, Luther ) , I will adress a few words
to you I have no news to write to
you that will be interesting last
evening the rebs acted a little
suspicious and it was thought
they were going to try and cross the
river our entire reg't was sent
down to the river to dispute their
crossing we were on the bank of
the river all night but nothing occured (occurred)
to disturb us, we still hear good news
from Gilmore (Gilmore) its evident that
Charlston (Charleston) (Charleston) will be captured in
time, I received a letter from John (John)
with a greenback in it, you may send
my boots and shirts as soon as you can
conveniently get them ready, you may also
send me a vest not a very heavy one
have it botton (button) up to the chin also
a pair of suspender's a pair of thinish (thinnish)
gloves Philo (Philo) wants a pair of the same
sort, he forgot to write for them tell
his father, send me a heavy woolen
neck tie and some sacks, Direct
the box to Company K 123rd regiment
NYSV (New York State Volunteers) first Division twelfth army
corpse (corps) (123rd Regiment, New York, First Division 12th Army Corps) Washington DC (Washington, District of Columbia) , it will
come all safe, Philo (Philo) is getting
much better I am well assured
please write often my love to all
the family, from, Henry (Welch, Henry) ,
if you send the box soon we shall get it
before we move tell
John (John)
that case
has never got here. the next time any of you write let
me
know
Kate (Kate) 's adress (address) I have forgotten
where to direct letters to her
The Soldier's Mother.
by James Parish
Stele
I feel that thou art near, mother,
When death abroad is
spread;
Thy form seems with me, e'en among
The dying and the
dead!
Thy voice comes to me with each breeze
Thy smile where
sunlight gleams;
And through the night thy hand doth trace
Bright
visions in my dreams.
Thou whisperest in mine ear, mother,
When sins my path beset;
And then I tear myself away,
Without the
least regret.
Thy words, once spoken, ever kept,
Are priceless
gems to me;
My Peace on earth, my hope in Heaven--
I [owe?] it all
to thee.
This world is not so bad, mother,
As some pretend to
say;
'Tis good enough for him who tries
To walk in virtue's
way--
Who in his early days was taught
Sin's beaten track to
fear--
Who has a pious mother's words
Still living in his
ear.
'Tis good enough for me, mother,
Though cold and drear
at times,
For memory takes thee with me through
All trials and all
climes.
Thy voice comes to me with each breeze,
Thy smile where
sunlight gleams;
And through the night thy hand doth tra[ce?]
Bright visions in my dreams.
Part: of 6 
