Albert directed this letter to his older sister Myra Bancroft in Shortsville, Ontario county, New York.
Plymouth, North Carolina
October 27, 1863
Dear Sister Myra,
Your last favor is at hand and I was glad to hear that all were well. We are as well as can be expected down here in the land of agues but we are much better now [that] the cool weather has begun. You seemed to be in quite a fret in your last about my not writing to you but I began to think that had other fish to fry and then I wrote to Father and Susan, and now they seem to have other business to attend to. You must not blame me for not writing more for I write now three letters for one and am lucky to get that.
There is not much in the ay of news here. Foraging parties are sent out every few days and find no Rebs to oppose them. There is but one regiment of Rebs in this part of the state. They are the 17th North Carolina. The regiment was got up around here and are not very troublesome. They are ordered to Bragg’s Army and do not like the idea and they are coming in two or three at a time and giving themselves up. And a good many of them have volunteered to go into an artillery company being raised here. They are good looking fellows and will do good service. The Rebs say that the North Carolina troops do not fight very well. They would be Union if they could.
This fall will not see the end of the war unless they get at it again before long. They do not seem to be doing much at present at Charleston. In other places they are getting ready and they may be marching on now but they are not as eager as they were. But let them fight. The boys are busy repairing the chimney. The ashes are flying and a poor mouse is running and this is a poor place to write.
We have not had any frosts of any account yet and the late roses look very nice yet. But they seem out of place when the trees are a yellow with frosted leaves and the ripened corn tells us that fall has come. Has Susan wrote that letter yet? I have not received it yet. Has Willie arrived yet? If he has, tell him to write and let me know how he gets along.
But the mail goes out today and I must close and help the boys. I will try and do better next time.
— A. H. Bancroft