10 June 1864

Cold Harbor, Virginia
Friday, June 10, [1864]

My dear Nellie,

I am now under the doctor’s care but I am feeling rather better than I have for several days past. I have been having the dysentery and I think I am bilious for things taste bad. I am back in the rear with the cooks. The army is at a stand still. There is nothing going on here in front. I think some move will be made soon but it is useless to charge on their works for they are too strong.

The weather is cool but it is very dusty in the roads. I started to go to the regiment this morning but saw the doctor who told me I had better come back here and stay. I feel quite well but I am weak. Ira Latham is here. He is not very well. George Meech is up with the regiment but he is not well. He had a letter from his folks saying that Capt. Latham and wife had been having a fuss and had parted. I saw Dwight [Satterlee] last night and he confirmed the statement. He says the family is all broken up. Ira seems to feel bad about it and I feel very sorry for them all. Capt. Latham is a queer man. I wrote to Aunt [Mary] & Jane a few days ago.

I have heard that McClellan was here with Grant but have not seen him. I would like to see him and Grant and Meade.

Col. Burpee was wounded yesterday morning. He was hit in the side and it is thought that it may prove fatal. We had news this morning from Col. Dutton saying he was dead. Capt. Brown is in command of the regiment now. Major [Hiram] Crosby is sick. Our regiment will be pretty small if things goes on this way long. We draw rations for 320 men but there is only 280 with muskets. I saw Charlie Gallup this morning. He is looking quite miserable but keeps about. We do not get papers here so we do not have the news.

This is a kind of desolate country. There is not many houses here. The water is quite good — much better than I expected to find it. There is lots of dead horses and mules here left unburied and they smell very bad. I believe our dead is all buried now. I have not heard from our wounded yet. I suppose they are all sent off somewhere.

You may send me a lead pencil in a newspaper. I have lost mine and you send me a little paper in the same way once in awhile as I cannot get any here. Send me a little bit of your new dress. I want to see it. I often think how odd it would seem for me to be dressed in citizen’s clothes but I hope the time is not far distant when I can dress that way. Remember me to all friends and accept my best love and wishes with a good kiss.

As ever, — Thomas

I do not think of anything more to write this time. Be of good cheer and trust in the giver of all good and all will yet be well — T