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Barton Smith expresses concern at the diphtheria outbreak that was ravaging Stephen’s family and expresses outrage at the way his patients were being treated under the new military discipline: several had been left behind in Suffolk to be captured, and others who had made the march were punished for not keeping up with the regiment. This is the last letter from Barton, who by August would join the swelling numbers of Carroll soldiers going absent without leave. He had been married the previous year and his wife was ill.

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I received a short letter from you a few days ago, giving me the intelligence of the illness of your little Temple. I have never heard from home since to know whether he is well or not, or whether any more of your family are sick. But I heard some of the boys say they had learned that his disease proved fatal, but I do hope this report is false. I understand that diptheria has been raging to an alarming extent in Carroll. Oh! That the people could be rid of this desolating enemy of health and happiness.

We have been doing a deal of hard marching recently as you will see by reading Pa’s letter. I never was completely put through in my life. I marched until it seemed I had gone the last step, and then marched 15-20 miles. I had rather go home and die than to stay in camp any longer. Oh! We should grieve at the death of anyone now who has any prospect of future happiness.

Stephen, our government is fast degenerating into a military despotism. A few tyrants rule the nation now. When we were on the last marches, there were a great many men who were, and had been sick, and consequently could not keep up and fell behind though they would get into camp a few hours after the army. And all these men were severely punished for this thing. Just because they couldn’t keep up, but was there in time for all the duties they had to perform.

There are great many more instances of such doings I could give you, but think it unnecessary now. There is no telling what the soldier has to suffer. Our bondage is far worse, more rigid than the negro. I would now prefer death if I could but get to go home and stay with my family and people a while, and be buried in our church yard than to stay here any longer. What a happy exchange to pass from this Hellish world, to a world of infinite and eternal bliss. Who wouldn’t be willing to make the exchange?

Stephen, you must pardon me for not paying the postage. I hadn’t any postage stamps and therefore can’t pay it.

Direct your letters to Petersburg, 29th Regt., Corse Brigade, Pickett’s Division.

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