This letter was written by 20 year-old George L. Covert (1843-1908), the son of Harry and Orthia (Fied) Covert. George enlisted on 12 September 1861 in Co. C, 7th Pennsylvania Cavalry and was taken prisoner at Gallatin, Tennessee on 21 August 1862. After four months, he was exchanged, and he then joined his company at Nashville. On 28 November 1863, he reenlisted at Huntsville, Alabama, as a veteran volunteer.
On 20 June 1864, he was wounded in the fighting at Noonday Creek near Kennesaw Mountain, Georgia. He was shot through the left lung and left wrist and remained in a hospital for several months recuperating. He was honorably discharged from the service on 5 September 1865.
After George returned home from the service, he attended the State Normal School at Mansfield, Pennsylvania, and then taught school until 1871 when he purchased a membership in the Williamsport Commercial College. He then took up telegraphy and worked for the Western Union Telegraph Company.
In 1884, he married Mary J. Merriam of Wellsburg, New York, and then entered the mercantile business. [Source: History of Bradford County by Henry C. Bradsby]
George wrote the letter to his friend, Fanny C. Rundell (1845-1920), the daughter of Jefferson and Hannah (Pratt) Rundell of Canton, Bradford county, Pennsylvania. Fanny married Fidello Biddle (1842-1913) in 1867. Fidello served in Co. D, 106th Pennsylvania Infantry and then reenlisted in Co. D, 50th Pennsylvania Engineers.
Addressed to Miss Fannie Rundell, Canton, Bradford county, Pennsylvania
Headquarters, Co. C, 7th Pennsylvania Cavalry
December 19th 1863
Yours of the 8th came to hand yesterday. I now reply to it with the greatest of pleasure, improving the earliest opportunity [and] hoping this may find you in good health and enjoying yourself likewise the same.
It is evening. Twilight has scarcely died away. The stars shine with brilliant luster on a land of strife. The moon throws its silver light in[to] some lone cottage window where no solitary sound is heard but the whistle of the shrill winds that rustle through fallen leaves of autumn. If I mistake not, I am writing by candle light [and] liable to cross a line.
The bugle has blown for roll call—I must hasten to hear my name called.
You wrote that you thought it was most time for me to come home on a furlough. If I feel so disposed, I can have the privilege of having a furlough by being so kind and condescending as to aid and assist Uncle Sam for the short term of three years longer with the inducement of $400 and some odd bounty. A few flattering words will turn some people over. There is various ways being presented to the soldiers for to get him to reenlist—by coaxing, scaring, or daring. There is 150 reenlisted out of the regiment—8 of my company—and likely to be more. I have not come fully to the conclusion not to reenlist for it is my candid opinion that this war will soon end. The signs of the times indicate it, all nature speaks it—however, that does not make me any the more anxious to reenlist.
There is a debate going on here now. I must stop writing and be all attention. The question is, “Resolved, that the signs of the time indicate an overthrow of the government.”
Sunday the 20th. Not having time to finish my letter last evening, I write a few words and close. The last evening’s question was decided on the negative and I could have told that before it was debated.
Here I stop and go to church at 9 o’clock. Yours respectfully, G. L. C.
My pen drops and the writer stops. Hoping to hear from you soon, I bid you good day.