1 Confederate Letters To Home January 1, 1865 Dear Nannie A letter that was sent from Petersburg Va. on June 27th, 1864. This letter came to Miss Nannie Clements in Bibb County Ala. from her uncle Joab Goodson. Word has it that Nannie was suppose to have been wed to my GG Grand Uncle 2nd. Lt. William Pratt of the 20th Ala. Inf. Co. D. after the War. But Lt. Pratt was captured at Nashville and died within two months of being released from a Yankee Prison after the war. This letter got into the Pratt family history. Dear Nannie, Little did I dream when I wrote the above lines that, ere I finished this letter, my dearest brother would be in the cold embrace of death, but at last it is so, and dear Rufe who was by my side, buoyant with bright anticipation when I penned the above lines, now sleeps in the silent tomb, but thank God , he is doubtless in that happy land where there are neither wars, nor rumors of wars, where there is no rattling of musketry or roaring of cannon will ere disturb his sweet repose. He has taken his last long march, he has fought his last battle, and at last rest quietly with the God he loved. Oh his death was a terrible blow to me. I never knew what grief was before. If he could have talked to me, I could bare it better, but to have a dear brother mortally wounded and rendered speechless by my side when we were talking to each other and not thinking of danger was heart rendering. I was so horror stricken at first that I could not weep but God only knows what keen sorrow I have felt since. I have prayed to that God who has always preserved and protected me and have received consolation. Poor Rufe has gone from the snares and trials of this world, and is doubtless now in Heaven. May he rest in peace and may we all conduct ourselves that we may meet him in Heaven. We were in the trenches about two miles from Petersburg, the enemies trenches were about five hundred yards in our front, and a constant sharp shooting was kept up all the time. The position occupied by our company was in a hollow while the position of the enemy was on ground more elevated and had greatly the advantage of us. I had given orders to our company to not shoot and to expose themselves as little as possible. Balls had been striking pretty close to us several times and one man had been badly wounded near us. Rufe and I had moved and we thought to a safer place. We stretched our tent up and pulled our boots and coats off and were lying in the trenches, reading the Bible and writing a letter to brother Frank. About three p.m Rufe said he was hungry and asked me where the sugar was. He reached up and was getting it out of my haversack that was hanging on the side of the trench next to the enemy! All at once I heard a ball strike the bank and turning over looked up. Rufe as I thought had lain down again, but the terrible truth was flashed through my brain. I bent over him and asked if he was hurt but alas, he was shot through the brain and never spoke again. God only knows the intensity of my grief, but I could not weep, the fountain of tears seemed to have dried up for awhile, but the terrible thought that he must be snatched away from me forever without one word to comfort me was continually in my mind. I wept as I never wept before. I bent over the dear boy and called him back but in vain. Under cover of darkness, I had him removed to the ambulance, and then to the field hospital. He lay as if in sweet repose, entirely unconscious of his suffering until about ten p.m when he quietly slipped away into the arms of Jesus. On the next day we dressed him in clean clothing, placed him in a good coffin, and after divine services by the chaplain, reverend Perry, we consigned his dear remains to the silent tomb. He now rest surrounded by hundreds beneath a large cedar tree in the Fair grounds hospital grave yard, I cut his name, company and regiment on a plank and placed it at the head of his grave and cut the initials, company, and regiment on the Tree. I also had his grave enclosed by a railing. Let us not weep too much, for he is not lost but gone before! With a heart full of Love to all, Your Uncle Joab Lt. Joab Goodson of the 44th Alabama Inf. Bibb County Ala.'s last letter came from near Richmond Virginia, January 1st,1865. Soon thereafter he was killed by a Yankee bullet himself. Submitted by Joseph W. Willis, Great Great Grand nephew of Lt. William F. Pratt Back To Top Home ¶ Back ¶ Next
1
Confederate Letters
To Home
January 1, 1865 Dear Nannie A letter that was sent from Petersburg Va. on June 27th, 1864. This letter came to Miss Nannie Clements in Bibb County Ala. from her uncle Joab Goodson. Word has it that Nannie was suppose to have been wed to my GG Grand Uncle 2nd. Lt. William Pratt of the 20th Ala. Inf. Co. D. after the War. But Lt. Pratt was captured at Nashville and died within two months of being released from a Yankee Prison after the war. This letter got into the Pratt family history. Dear Nannie, Little did I dream when I wrote the above lines that, ere I finished this letter, my dearest brother would be in the cold embrace of death, but at last it is so, and dear Rufe who was by my side, buoyant with bright anticipation when I penned the above lines, now sleeps in the silent tomb, but thank God , he is doubtless in that happy land where there are neither wars, nor rumors of wars, where there is no rattling of musketry or roaring of cannon will ere disturb his sweet repose. He has taken his last long march, he has fought his last battle, and at last rest quietly with the God he loved. Oh his death was a terrible blow to me. I never knew what grief was before. If he could have talked to me, I could bare it better, but to have a dear brother mortally wounded and rendered speechless by my side when we were talking to each other and not thinking of danger was heart rendering. I was so horror stricken at first that I could not weep but God only knows what keen sorrow I have felt since. I have prayed to that God who has always preserved and protected me and have received consolation. Poor Rufe has gone from the snares and trials of this world, and is doubtless now in Heaven. May he rest in peace and may we all conduct ourselves that we may meet him in Heaven. We were in the trenches about two miles from Petersburg, the enemies trenches were about five hundred yards in our front, and a constant sharp shooting was kept up all the time. The position occupied by our company was in a hollow while the position of the enemy was on ground more elevated and had greatly the advantage of us. I had given orders to our company to not shoot and to expose themselves as little as possible. Balls had been striking pretty close to us several times and one man had been badly wounded near us. Rufe and I had moved and we thought to a safer place. We stretched our tent up and pulled our boots and coats off and were lying in the trenches, reading the Bible and writing a letter to brother Frank. About three p.m Rufe said he was hungry and asked me where the sugar was. He reached up and was getting it out of my haversack that was hanging on the side of the trench next to the enemy! All at once I heard a ball strike the bank and turning over looked up. Rufe as I thought had lain down again, but the terrible truth was flashed through my brain. I bent over him and asked if he was hurt but alas, he was shot through the brain and never spoke again. God only knows the intensity of my grief, but I could not weep, the fountain of tears seemed to have dried up for awhile, but the terrible thought that he must be snatched away from me forever without one word to comfort me was continually in my mind. I wept as I never wept before. I bent over the dear boy and called him back but in vain. Under cover of darkness, I had him removed to the ambulance, and then to the field hospital. He lay as if in sweet repose, entirely unconscious of his suffering until about ten p.m when he quietly slipped away into the arms of Jesus. On the next day we dressed him in clean clothing, placed him in a good coffin, and after divine services by the chaplain, reverend Perry, we consigned his dear remains to the silent tomb. He now rest surrounded by hundreds beneath a large cedar tree in the Fair grounds hospital grave yard, I cut his name, company and regiment on a plank and placed it at the head of his grave and cut the initials, company, and regiment on the Tree. I also had his grave enclosed by a railing. Let us not weep too much, for he is not lost but gone before! With a heart full of Love to all, Your Uncle Joab Lt. Joab Goodson of the 44th Alabama Inf. Bibb County Ala.'s last letter came from near Richmond Virginia, January 1st,1865. Soon thereafter he was killed by a Yankee bullet himself. Submitted by Joseph W. Willis, Great Great Grand nephew of Lt. William F. Pratt Back To Top Home ¶ Back ¶ Next
January 1, 1865
Dear Nannie
A letter that was sent from Petersburg Va. on June 27th, 1864. This letter came to Miss Nannie Clements in Bibb County Ala. from her uncle Joab Goodson. Word has it that Nannie was suppose to have been wed to my GG Grand Uncle 2nd. Lt. William Pratt of the 20th Ala. Inf. Co. D. after the War. But Lt. Pratt was captured at Nashville and died within two months of being released from a Yankee Prison after the war. This letter got into the Pratt family history.
Dear Nannie,
Little did I dream when I wrote the above lines that, ere I finished this letter, my dearest brother would be in the cold embrace of death, but at last it is so, and dear Rufe who was by my side, buoyant with bright anticipation when I penned the above lines, now sleeps in the silent tomb, but thank God , he is doubtless in that happy land where there are neither wars, nor rumors of wars, where there is no rattling of musketry or roaring of cannon will ere disturb his sweet repose. He has taken his last long march, he has fought his last battle, and at last rest quietly with the God he loved. Oh his death was a terrible blow to me. I never knew what grief was before. If he could have talked to me, I could bare it better, but to have a dear brother mortally wounded and rendered speechless by my side when we were talking to each other and not thinking of danger was heart rendering. I was so horror stricken at first that I could not weep but God only knows what keen sorrow I have felt since. I have prayed to that God who has always preserved and protected me and have received consolation. Poor Rufe has gone from the snares and trials of this world, and is doubtless now in Heaven. May he rest in peace and may we all conduct ourselves that we may meet him in Heaven.
We were in the trenches about two miles from Petersburg, the enemies trenches were about five hundred yards in our front, and a constant sharp shooting was kept up all the time. The position occupied by our company was in a hollow while the position of the enemy was on ground more elevated and had greatly the advantage of us. I had given orders to our company to not shoot and to expose themselves as little as possible. Balls had been striking pretty close to us several times and one man had been badly wounded near us. Rufe and I had moved and we thought to a safer place. We stretched our tent up and pulled our boots and coats off and were lying in the trenches, reading the Bible and writing a letter to brother Frank.
About three p.m Rufe said he was hungry and asked me where the sugar was. He reached up and was getting it out of my haversack that was hanging on the side of the trench next to the enemy! All at once I heard a ball strike the bank and turning over looked up. Rufe as I thought had lain down again, but the terrible truth was flashed through my brain. I bent over him and asked if he was hurt but alas, he was shot through the brain and never spoke again. God only knows the intensity of my grief, but I could not weep, the fountain of tears seemed to have dried up for awhile, but the terrible thought that he must be snatched away from me forever without one word to comfort me was continually in my mind. I wept as I never wept before. I bent over the dear boy and called him back but in vain.
Under cover of darkness, I had him removed to the ambulance, and then to the field hospital. He lay as if in sweet repose, entirely unconscious of his suffering until about ten p.m when he quietly slipped away into the arms of Jesus. On the next day we dressed him in clean clothing, placed him in a good coffin, and after divine services by the chaplain, reverend Perry, we consigned his dear remains to the silent tomb. He now rest surrounded by hundreds beneath a large cedar tree in the Fair grounds hospital grave yard, I cut his name, company and regiment on a plank and placed it at the head of his grave and cut the initials, company, and regiment on the Tree. I also had his grave enclosed by a railing. Let us not weep too much, for he is not lost but gone before!
With a heart full of Love to all, Your Uncle Joab
Lt. Joab Goodson of the 44th Alabama Inf. Bibb County Ala.'s last letter came from near Richmond Virginia, January 1st,1865. Soon thereafter he was killed by a Yankee bullet himself.
Submitted by Joseph W. Willis, Great Great Grand nephew of Lt. William F. Pratt
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