July 2nd, 1863

Dear Papa, 

The Confederates have attacked here in Gettysburg, and I’m scared for my life. After Mama, James, and I left the plantation we have been moving from house to house, begging for a place to stay. Luckily we found a nice elderly lady that has taken us in, but the constant fear of her kicking us out has me paranoid. The few times the battle is paused I am allowed to go outside, but the smell of the dead young men all around makes me nauseous. One time I heard a soldier calling out for help in the road, but by the time I got to him he was gone, up above with the angels. The constant noise of guns and cannons take away my sleep at night and make it just about impossible to forget the war that surrounds us. I’m so sick of this, But No matter the consequences of the war, it did set us free and freed slaves all over the country which will change.

During the time of your absence, I have fallen ill, of some sickness that I don’t know how to control. No doctor has been able to see me, and I am fearing that death is near for my young soul. My body just won’t stop shaking and I will have migraines for weeks on end. Mama says it’s Malaria, which I had never heard before and it makes me scared for my life. There is this never-ending nausea, like I need to vomit but never do which is an unbearable way to live. I am always hot and it’s as if a thousand suns are shining down on me. My legs and arms just won’t stop hurting, and I have become frail like one of the corn stalks on the plantation. I am trying to stay strong for Mama and James, but it’s like this sickness has taken over my life and stopped me from doing what all other kids my age do. Now I fear that I will never reach my fourteenth birthday, just shy of 2 months away and I don’t know what to do.

Sending my love,

Charlotte