Brooklyn N.Y.

June 2^d 1864.

 

My dear Mrs Stacy.

                                    I have just heard through Mother that Waldo has been taken from us and scarce anything could have struck a deeper sorrow to my heart than the death of my old playmate and friend. I loved him when we used to live in Harvard together with almost a girlish affection and, since our paths have so widely diverged, no one of my early friends has claimed my thoughts so much as he. What broke off our correspondence lately I do not know but probably he never rec^d my answer to his last letter which he wrote after his return from the Vicksburg campaign. I had written to my parents once or twice to ascertain his address when in response came the sad intelligence that your noble, pa- / triotic son and my friend had fallen—in battle, I inferred from the date at which the news were received by you. Of the particulars I know nothing—simply the fact that he has gone. I would that I could comfort you for I know how grief stricken you, your husband and Mary must be, but I know not from what source greater consolation could be derived than from the knowledge that he died as becomes a patriot and a practical soldier of the cross, fighting that his parents and friends at home might enjoy the blessings of a free and stable government The realization that the same affliction has fallen upon many thousand families of late who have sent their members to the aid of our country must help you to sustain your unfortunate part in the common grief with greater equanimity and while your son acted a noble part in taking up arms, you acted still more nobly in combating the fears and anxieties of a mother's affection and bidding him go. Mr Page, a worthy young man formerly from Har- / vard who is engaged in studying and practicing medicine with his preceptor in this city, told me, when I informed him of the news I had rec^d, that he knew Waldo and was with him in town when he was enlisted, and gave me quite a graphic account of the patriotic ardor of your citizens and a long talk he had with Waldo about the army. In a month or more I hope, if nothing happens, to be again in our country's service and though my duties will probably lead me to less dangerous participation in the struggle, I shall feel a sad pleasure in trying to help fill the places of better men who have already fallen. If you or Mary would write me and tell me of what you know of the particulars of the last portion of Waldo's life and of which now I am entirely ignorant I would be very grateful. Forgive me if this letter is an intrusion and remembering me kindly to the other members of your family, always consider me as having been the sincere friend of your son and yourselves—John Marshall Whitney.

SOURCES