The blow was a terrible one to us all, so sudden and so unexpected, that I could not help reproaching myself for having consented to his visit in that sickly region in the summer-time.  Of all my children, he seemed the most precious.  Born in San Francisco, I had watched with intense interest his development, and he seemed more than any of the children to take an interest in my special profession.  Mrs. Sherman, Minnie, Lizzie, and Tom, were with him at the time, and we all, helpless and overwhelmed, saw him die.  Being in the very midst of an important military enterprise, I had hardly time to pause and think of my personal loss.  We procured a metallic casket, and had a military funeral, the battalion of the Thirteenth United States Regulars acting as escort from the Gayoso Hotel to the steamboat Grey Eagle, which conveyed him and my family up to Cairo, whence they proceeded to our home at Lancaster, Ohio, where he was buried.  I here give my letter to Captain C. C. Smith, who commanded the battalion at the time, as exhibiting our intense feelings: 

GAYOSO HOUSE, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE
October 4, 1863, Midnight

Captain C. C. SMITH, commanding Battalion Thirteenth United States
Regulars.

MY DEAR FRIEND:  I cannot sleep to-night till I record an expression of the deep feelings of my heart to you, and to the officers and soldiers of the battalion, for their kind behavior to my poor child.  I realize that you all feel for my family the attachment of kindred, and I assure you of full reciprocity.  Consistent with a sense of duty to my profession and office, I could not leave my post, and sent for the family to come to me in that fatal climate, and in that sickly period of the year, and behold the result!  The child that bore my name, and in whose future I reposed with more confidence than I did in my own plan of life, now floats a mere corpse, seeking a grave in a distant land, with a weeping mother, brother, and sisters, clustered about him.  For myself, I ask no sympathy.  On, on I must go, to meet a soldier’s fate, or live to see our country rise superior to all factions, till its flag is adored and respected by ourselves and by all the powers of the earth.

But Willie was, or thought he was, a sergeant in the Thirteenth.  I have seen his eye brighten, his heart beat, as he beheld the battalion under arms, and asked me if they were not real soldiers.  Child as he was, he had the enthusiasm, the pure love of truth, honor, and love of country, which should animate all soldiers.

God only knows why he should die thus young.  He is dead, but will not be forgotten till those who knew him in life have followed him to that same mysterious end.

Please convey to the battalion my heart-felt thanks, and assure each and all that if in after-years they call on me or mine, and mention that they were of the Thirteenth Regulars when Willie was a sergeant, they will have a key to the affections of my family that will open all it has; that we will share with them our last blanket, our last crust!  Your friend,