P. A. O., Fort McHenry
Tuesday eve,, January 2nd 1865
My Dear DeEtte,
YOu will perceive I am rather behind my usual time with my letter. We have been very busy lately and came very near not getting at this tonight but the old General has gone out so will throw the tedious documents aside and employ myself with something rather more agreeable.
I was just looking at my diary and as time as you live, I am a week behind. It had slipped my mind entirely. The fact is my life is so monotonous that it is impossible to make it interesting. The only thing worth recording was the New Years dinner that I was invited to. It was at the 91st Headquarters mess room. The dinner interfered with my attending church through the day, but went at night. The exercises were rather imposing and unusual for Army life being a love feast, and was conducted differently from what I was familiar with. The communicants approached and knelt around the alter. One would think there were so many Christians among our soldiery. But if there is any place where there is need of them, it is here for there are many like myself that need their influence but I don’t see that they do us any good.
I was glad to hear that you were spending Christmas so pleasantly and hope that New Years was equally so. Presume you have your dress done by this time. I wish I had been around about the time the donation went off providing you didn’t look cross at me so that I wouldn’t be looking after others which I wouldn’t do now, would go with the Old Dominion first. Ezra called on me this afternoon. He intends leaving the hospital in a day or two to join his company. He was thinking at one time of getting a furlough but has given it up for very good reason—simply because he couldn’t get one, which is about the excuse we all have for not returning to the land of our fathers. I say to where the girl—the choice of my youth dwells. I believe I will come home this winter though.
Received a letter from the Doct. the other day. He was going to make the proposed change and was getting ready for it. Father was getting better &c. I guess he (the Doct.) thinks I will never get out of the Army alive so there was no use waiting for me. But I don’t think so. I would buy the place if he wasn’t in quite so much of a hurry though am not particular. There are more places than one. Besides, I don’t want to make too many calculations till I am sure of getting back again. One thing is certain, DeEtte, I could not conscientiously return without being in at least one battle and if I ever do, I am bound not to disgrace my company. I want a chance to see if there is any pluck in me. I don’t believe one can tell what he is capable of doing until placed where compulsion tries him. Now then, DeEtte, just whisper in my ear what you said you would tell me if I came home. You wouldn’t keep anything back as long as it is not my fault for not being furloughed. Then I will answer any of your inquiries and the one about Ezra, but I don’t think it can be true so I must not tell you until I am certain. What I refered to, I will remember sometime.
Tell [Uncle] Cerenus that I would write quick enough but it don’t seem as if anyone wanted to hear from me. Certainly DeEtte, I like to hear you talk of such things, money matters, or anything else that interests you. I am going to pay Ham’s note to Miss Cowley’s if he doesn’t. I will write to your Father to deposit the money where they can draw it. I thought Ham had left the money with them till Mr. Gilbert told me and then could not believe it till I enquired of Miss Cowley. I then wrote to Ham asking his object. “Well,” he said, “I hired the money for a year and was going to have the use of it a year” little thinking how it would appear to the public, and wrote that I must not worry about it—he would pay his own debts. But I son’t think I will wait any longer and unless he pays it within a week or two, I will. Then this can’t be of much interest to you so I will change the subject.
Well DeEtte, I was appointed Post Master the other day by order so I carry the key and have the entire charge of the Post mail. Just imagine how eager I look for your handwriting and how disappointed my search is in vain. But DeEtte, I must thank you for not disappointing me lately. The other Clerk thinks there is something up my getting them so regularly and the same handwriting on the backing. When your Father directs them, he thinks it must be my Father which of course I don’t contradict.
We are not on very good terms (this clerk and I) so we don’t meddle with each other much. He is evidently jealous of me because I outrank him, though he has been longest in the office. I have charge of the business mail when the commanding officer is about which is most of the time. Comes in two hours every forenoon. Seldom at night unless when making out monthly returns as we are doing at present which requires his attention. General W. W. Morris, our post commander, lives in a pleasant dwelling just outside of the fort proper as little disturbed as though all was peace. In fact, it does not seem like being in an army. Nothing ever disturbs our nightly rest. This fort was never attacked but once and the only traces visible from that is a shell that is built up on a nicely constructed stand and on the shell is written, “Fired at Fort McHenry by the British during the bombardment of 1814. Weight 200 pounds.”
We were mustered for pay last Saturday. This is the second time since we have been here. Soldiers are mustered every two months whether they are paid or not. I am in hopes that we will be paid soon but heard something the other day from an officer that was rather discouraging to us who are making calculations about what we were going to do when it does come. If it doesn’t come till the first of April, our second installment of government bounty will be due. Then there will be paid us $145 besides my extra pay, which will come in good play to meet expenses. Then we don’t think as much of $10.00 here as we would of one at home. Some have spent every cent of their bounty. Such are mostly from the city who have no future in view. I and my loved one, yours truly and sincerely yours forever, — Will
The Civil War Letters of William Kennedy 