Night has fallen quite some time ago.  All are weary.  My eyes are haggard for want of sleep.  Few set up their shelter halves.  The small tents do little to protect you from the elements.  Some of the men whittle sticks, carve pipes from soapstone, or mend their garments by the warm fires.  I prefer to stare at the evening skies and drift off to sleep thinking of you.

Although the sutlers always follow us, there seems to be a larger number than usual.  I noticed a photographer among them and will have my photograph made this afternoon.  I will include it in this letter.  As you will be able to see in the photograph, my mount is a fine one.  My patience and efforts training him have paid off.  I have decided to call him Rambler.  This horse can try one's nerves at times.  Sometimes he will act normal as I begin to adjust my saddle and then in a flash of temper he will intentionally spin and throw the saddle to the ground.  If a horse is capable of such emotions, he will look at me as if to say as he smiles "you only think you control me".  When the action starts, he behaves himself for the most part and generally speaking he is a brave fighter.  Although he occasionally makes himself ill in anticipation of battle, I have, nevertheless, become attached to this mount as I have no other.  I tend to him before myself.  I understand that his well being increases my chances for survival.  I try not to think of his demise in battle, but know full well that the possibility of us coming home together under these circumstances are not favorable.  I keep the letters that you have written to me close at hand in my saddlebags.  They bring me comfort in the quiet time that we seldom have.  The weather has started to change and grows cooler.  Clouds move in and I believe we may get some rain.  I will close for a moment to prepare for the rain.

Food is hard to obtain so we must share what little there is.  Before we started to this place, I was able to draw one pound of hard bread, 3/4 pound of salt pork,  1 1/4 pound of fresh meat and a little salt and sugar.  I made it last as long as I could but it was soon gone.  The supply wagons have not yet arrived.  Several rabbits and an turkey were taken from the surrounding woods and were consumed by hungry men almost before they were properly cooked.

A steady flow of men and supplies began to arrive at our position.  The rations should be along soon.  Present were men from various companies throughout our Confederate Army.  I have talked to men from the 7th Florida Co. F., K. and G. and saw some members of the 4th Florida.  The 4th, and the 37th Alabama, who were strongly represented by Co. H. are joined by our Marine Corps Co. A.  As well as the 25th Alabama, the 15th Alabama Co.B., the 50th Georgia Co. F.  Also present are men from the 10th Tennessee dismounted cavalry who drill constantly to perfect their skills.  Our forces have assembled on the west side of Brooksville for what I believe will be a great battle.  Grant should beware the fury of an aroused confederacy.

The Union Army is on the move again.  General Hardy ordered our scouts to quietly go out and report the enemy's location and numbers.  When they returned with their information, we found that their strength was larger than we anticipated.  It seems that the Union is assembling at the very least an army of grave proportions.  I have heard that the 4th Brigade along with the 75th OVI are setting up their camps now.  The 18th Indiana and the 97th Pennsylvania are camped Northeast of us. The 17th Connecticut, 3rd Maine and the 79th New York Highlanders arrived yesterday.  One of our men saw, through his field glasses, Lt. Ross Lamoreaux AAG 4th Brigade talking with Col. Dwight Dovel and Capt. Warren Johnson.  The 2nd Battalion under Maj. Palenik is expected to arrive at any moment.  The 4th Mass. cavalry is said to be in the area but I have not seen any evidence to support that rumor.  The 1st Battalion is making its presence known.

Finally the food has arrived.  I hope there is a sufficient amount.  I will close for now.  I want to get in line before there is no more.

The Florida 1st Cavalry commanded by Capt. Jim Bishop left camp early to find and harass the enemy.  We will be called to action soon.  If the Lord allows, I will write more this afternoon.

As the battle began, I sat astride my horse watching our brave Confederate men approach company after company.  Their bayonets glisten in the sun.  The colors wave slowly in the breeze.  Their ranks stretch and flow across the landscape as in the manner of ocean waves washing ashore.  I wondered who would soon die on the field to which they marched and if I would be counted among the dead.

My 3rd Florida Co. K cavalry met and fell in with the 1st Florida cavalry.  Between the two mounted companies we were able to assemble a reasonable force.

We patrolled the north woodlot while the homeguard took to the west side of the battlefield.  Our infantry marched through the same woodlot and took up their positions.  The alarm sounded and the homeguard was attacked by the Union cavalry.  We galloped over to their location and the they broke off and rallied with their infantry to the south.

Our artillery commenced firing.  They loaded and shot at an excited pace.  The 1st Manassas and Milton Light put on quite a show but we had little time to watch.  A scout reported that the Union Cavalry was getting around our east flank.  We rode into the most easterly woodlot where a pistol battle ragged between our and their cavalry forces.  Back and forth we charged and rallied with few losses on either side.  The Union retreated and quickly reformed.  They made a dash and attempted to attack our artillery from behind.  The heavy woods and a swampy area stalled them and we were able to turn their advance.  They were unable to harm our artillery.  Their plan was foiled and they ran to safety through the woods north and east of us to gain their freedom.  When they fell back to plan their next move, I noticed that our Confederate men were losing the field as the Union army began advancing.  Many men on both sides had concluded their last battle.  Soldiers, blue and gray, littered the field.  Some lay mere inches apart locked in mortal combat with one another as they drew their last breath.  The abandoned rifles, canteens and cartridge boxes were abundant.  The fighting on the west side of the field was intense.  The Union army seemed to be unstoppable in their mission. We were called upon once again when the Union cavalry began to harass and overtake a light artillery position.  Dead men and horses amid the broken caissons and disabled artillery pieces marked the line once held by the gallant artillery men.  We defended them as best we could and drew the enemy to us as our infantry and artillery retreated.  The Union infantry had by this time broken through on our west flank and we at once knew that our cause was lost.  Our men fought as bravely as I had ever seen but they were swept away by the advancing blue line.  We rallied and broke off the attack.  The Union army was victorious.  As we returned to camp, I was overwhelmed with the thoughts of our short-comings and felt deep sorrow for the lives lost.

It is dark and all is quiet.  I have heard that we will attempt to push the Union from this area tomorrow.  The commanders are planning their next move now.  It is hard to imagine but some of the men have gotten together with their musical instruments and amidst this misery there is a festive felling.  Most are there save myself, the men on picket and the wounded.  A sizeable number of women, some of questionable occupation, and a few children have come here from Brooksville to join in the fun and boost our spirits.  How sad that many a man now laughing merrily is sure to fill a soldiers grave on the battlefield tomorrow.  Tonight, after what I have seen earlier in the day, I have lost all desire to be in the company of others.  While I write to you, I sit in solitude smoking my last cigar and sipping from a flask of illegal whisky I purchased from a sutler.  Even this brings me no pleasure.  I think of you as the camp fire dies down to embers.  You will not leave my thoughts and I shed a private tear for you.

Although the skies are clear, the weather has turned unbearably cold.  We did not expect this sudden change and all are uncomfortable.

Many men were at the Chaplin Roger Nedrich's church service.  I did not hear most of the service I was lost in thoughts of our enemy.  Surely they must be as exhausted as we are but still they hold their ground.  I prayed "Lord, let us win: But if we cannot win, let us be brave in the attempt".  The church service ended, we returned to camp, assembled and prepared to attack again.

The fighting yesterday was more vicious than we had anticipated.  The memory of that being foremost in each man's mind.  As I sat prepared upon my horse waiting to kill my fellow countrymen I reflected on the morning worship service and I thought that this war has become too destructive to be acceptable to a civilized world any longer, I am sure this shall be the last one.  I have seen the destruction and  feel personally involved to the greatest possible degree as I sent several of the enemy to their deaths.  This of which I am not proud, but relieved that it is not I that lay unburied upon the field.  I think that all these trials and tribulations must come upon our country because of some great wickedness.  Is it the sinful ways in which we treat each other or is slavery truly ungodly?  Do they fight to preserve the Union or do we fight to preserve our independence within the Union?  I fear that we all have lost sight of our original goals and fight to the end for no other reason than to end that which our forefathers fought to create.

We set out upon our mission of destruction.  The Union brigade had heard and seen our movement toward them.  I saw the dust rising near their camp as they took up their arms.  Their pickets sounded the alarm.  Hell was soon released on earth.  I pray for our victory.  My horse struck the ground with his front hoof repeatedly.  He knew of the danger that was near.  The artillery men moved to their positions.  The infantry marched forward.  I could clearly see the fear on some of their faces.  Their commander reminded them that courage is not the absence of fear, but the conquest of it.  From my position I could see the puffs of smoke and soon after heard the first shots of the Union artillery ring out.  It had begun again.  Their deadly shot flew over our heads and fell harmlessly in the woods behind us but all knew that soon they would have our range.  Our entire army advanced with urgency.

The battle was fierce.  It quieted for a moment only to be taken up on another front.  Many soldiers had met their final rest but we had no time to reflect upon their fate for just then we were called upon to face our own.  My cavalry company was ordered to our right flank where the Union artillery was pouring in a devastating volley of grape and shot.  The men from the 3rd Rhode Island Light Artillery had gotten our range and they became deadly accurate.  We were able to draw their attention for a moment but still our brave men fell and were dying at an merciless rate their company colors falling to the ground with them.  The air was thick with the whine of their bullets as they passed on all sides of us.  The battle was intense.  Then, suddenly all was quiet, I felt odd and it was strange to find myself in the midst of peace during the excitement of this conflict.  Although I was surrounded by all the ghastly evidences of the battle, our struggle seemed more like a nightmarish dream than stern reality.  I felt strangely separated from life as if I were an observer and not a participant.  My saber was somehow broken.  I released it from my grasp and let it fall to the earth.  The evidence of the raging battle lay all around me yet I denied it's occurrence.  My horse was spent and staggered.  I strained to keep my seat as I noticed on both he and I blood.  My uniform was quickly wet with it and I fell to the ground too weary to proceed.  I drew what I thought to be my last breath and remembered you.  My head felt light and my conscious mind faded in and out at last leaving me altogether.  I do not know how long I lay among the dead.  My senses began to return and echoing in my ears I heard approaching riders.  I was too weak to defend myself and at that moment cared not of my fate.  Fortunately the riders were what was left of my company and they rode to my assistance.  They had found my horse wandering riderless and were looking for my body so as to give me a proper burial.  When they ascertained that I had not yet left this world I was helped to my horse and we rode slowly back to camp lost in our thoughts with no words uttered.

My horse and I are expected to recover fully.  We each received wounds but should be healed soon.  The wound I received is to my left side and luckily was partially deflected by my saber.  That would account for its being broken.  Our medical corps headed by Maj. Riker are quite competent.   I have been told that I may be fit for the saddle in a few weeks.

Our Capt. Coker dropped in to see me today and related to me the events of the remainder of the battle as I lay in the medical tent.  He said that the cavalry battle took place mostly in the open field and both sides lost many men and horses.  I asked him of my horse Rambler and was told he was wounded in his left flank and left neck.  I worry more for him than I do myself.  Capt. Coker assured me that they would care for him in my absence.  Later in the day I saw Sgt. Maynard walk through with a wound to his arm.  I called out to him and he sat with me for a while.  He said that he saw me fall and assumed the worst.  The Sgt. remembered the battle from the infantry's view.  It seems that our Confederate forces attacked from the hill to the north after the artillery had done their best to drive the Union from their earthen works.  After a short cavalry battle, our riders returned to report the enemies strength to General Hardy.  The First and Third Battalions were sent out to challenge the Union positions.  They quickly met with stiff resistance as the Union had several pieces of artillery and at least six regiments of troops.  Our infantry fell back to rally when reinforcements arrived from atop the hill.  With reinforcements and the AVC in the action as well as the original troops, our Confederate men quickly over took the earthen works, but not without heavy losses.  During the action shortly after taking the works, Col. Hardy, our General's son, fell to a Yankee's bullet.  His loss will be hard on the boys for a while.  The Yankees called for a cease fire to talk about a "possible surrender".  As General Hardy was talking to the Union Commander, it was noticed by most of the boys that the Yankees were busy loading their muskets.  Before the General could fully get back to his lines, the Yanks opened up on us and we took some losses, but the Union's losses were greater.  General Hardy drew his sword and ordered a charge while in the forefront of his men.  That was all the Sergeant knew of the battle for at that moment he took a bullet to his right shoulder and had to fall back to seek medical attention.  It seems that we have taken the area that was lost last Saturday.  I try to justify in my mind the death on both sides for a stalemate in which ground is taken and given up to no ones apparent advantage.

I have heard from reputable sources that we are headed to Ocean Pond. In our travels, we will head east through Townsends Plantation in Mt. Dora where we will camp for a few days.  We will leave today and travel east by northeast quickly.  The Union is coming south and we must stop their advance.  I will write to you as I can find the time.
I love you and miss you terribly.  Do not forget me in your prayers, Your loving husband.......