April the 12 1862

Mr and Mrs Baker,
			Dear Friends. In deep sorrow
and grief, is it, that I write you_ On the 17th of Feb 1862
I set out for Springfield, and on the 18th, I had the great
pleasure of grasping the hand of you Son Orin again, one
of my nearest and dearest friends on this Earth 
  I had but a short visit with him, but now how precious
that visit is to me, for it is the last that I will ever have with
him on this Earth. I would have seen him again but he
but he told me that just as soon as he possibly could, he would
get a furlow and make us a good visit, but unexpectedly
to him he with his company had to march immediately to
						       our
Rolla _ He says in a letter to me, "This is hard for ^ company
and took us by surprise." Again he says, "I am sorry you
	          o        c
did not come ^ut on^e more. I do not know how long we will
stay. I am so sorry Mary, I am so anxious to make you a visit –
I was very sure, I would get to go home and have a good time.
But alas how uncertain are all our expectations, I must do my
my duty and go wherever, I am called, I hope for the best"
After he left Springfield, I heard no more from him
until some time after he arrived at Rolla; when the
sad news came to me that he was dangerously ill with
the fever. I heard from him one day later he was better
I still had hopes that he would recover _ Some
time elapsed _ I grew very anxious to hear from him
     It was not until the 6th of April, that I heard 

any more from him. A report came to me that he
was dead but I could not learn how it came or
whether it was reliable. On the 9 of Apr. I went to
Springfield and inquired of some of the officers who
were acquainted with Orin They had not heard any
such report and presumed that it was not so, or they
would have heard it but I was not satisfied, I was
determined to know before I returned I went into
the United States Telegraph office and with much
persuasion I got them to telegrah to Col. Boyd
at Rolla to know if Orin Baker is a living and how
he is. While waiting for a reply, I went into the
P.O. again for fear that they had overlooked letters
					     found
that I was expecting, and sure enough they ^ two more
one from my brother in Mich. and the other from
Orin _ Hope revived, and I said to myself, I will see him
again _ He said in his last letter to me, "I was taken
sick with the pneumonia fever so that I could
not use my pen. I am bearly able to be proped up in
bed, I have much to write but can not write at present"
With much difficulty, I found a place to reply. It was
near sun down and I had to return home that night, I wrote
       few
but a ^ lines, I stated that I had heard a flying report that
he was dead and that it grieved me almost to death
I put the letter in the P.O. and with a heart ful
of cheer I went into the Telegraph office and
received an answer. It was sealed. I thought that
it was all right. But I must look in and see; and O, I never

had such feelings before; When I Saw the
words "He is dead" In the midst of many I could
not keep from weeping aloud. Some one of the company
asked, if he was any kin to me, no, I replied, but he
is my friend. in vain could I aske for wish for
a better_ In prosperity and adversity, he has
always been the same, - faithful till the last moment
My heart is full of anguish. The only relief. I
get is in weeping O how, I do wish he could have
been with me during his sickness. It would have
		         great
been a great source of ^ consolation to me, to him and
to you all. O could I, but [illegible in original] watched over him and
administered to his last Earthly wants, and listen to
his last feeble speech until his last breath _ But O
he is gone, I am obliged to give him up but I can
not be reconciled _ For 7 months I have been in
trouble, and sometimes had to flee to save my life
I had a hope that I would survive, and see a fair
sky, but, O, now all looks dark and gloomy _ I am
bereaved of a friend, I loved supremely, and you
of a noble Son. I am truly a fellow mourner
with you all _ the only difference, yours are natural
ties, mine, those of real friendship. O that I could have
saved him by admonition. I plead with him not
go into the army. I feared that he could not endure the
many hardships and deprivations, but no, his bible
his love of country and his God bid him go and
we are left to mourn his loss _ (I do not feel able
to copy any more. I send you all but one page.) A. Royce