Albert Bancroft directed this letter to his younger brother, William J. Bancroft, who was in Grand Blanc, Michigan.
Plymouth, North Carolina
September 29, 1863
Dear Brother Willie,
Your last came to hand the 27th and I was glad to hear that you were well and going home so soon. You will be apt to have good weather, I guess, for we have not had much rainy weather yet. We have not had but one light frost yet and that did not do any harm. The corn has all been gathered and the tall stalks are left standing and one think of winter. The sweet potatoes are not ripe yet but there are a few in market and they are nice ones too. The weather is very pleasant here now. We have cool nights and mornings and warm days but we shall soon have rain — and plenty of it too. But we are ready for it as we shall be. We have battened the cracks, built our fireplace, and are as snug as to bugs in a rug. And I think we shall be allowed to spend the winter here and then it will not be a great while before our time will be out and they say we are to be discharged next July and you have no idea how time flies in the army.
Well, it is almost night, the insects are chirping, and all feel dull and idle. I went fishing this forenoon but did not have much luck — but it was fishing — and in the Roanoke too. But you must not think that there is anything grand about it. It is a dirty, muddy stream flowing through large swamps and marches — the abode of toads and pollywogs.
But do you go to the fair this year? Today is the first day, I suppose, and a great many are thinking of the time when we were there last and of the many who will never be there again. But we were in high spirits then and would be again if we were there again. I wonder of the girls remember the way they took the cars? That was well done.
Yesterday one of the boys in Co. F [S. Linsey] who was deranged shot himself through the head. He died instantly. And while I am writing, they are taking him to his grave. It is a sad sight and one I hope you will never have to witness. But it is time to be getting supper and I must close for the present. I will write some in this for the girls tomorrow. Write soon and remember your brother, — A. H. Bancroft