Abbie Clark and I had our ambrotypes taken to-day for two young braves who are going to the war. William H. Adams is also commissioned Captain and is going to the front.
_July_ 4.--The terrible battle of Gettysburg brings to Canandaigua sad news of our soldier boys of the 126th Regiment. Colonel Sherrill was instantly killed, also Captains Wheeler and Herendeen, Henry Willson and Henry P. Cook. Captain Richardson was wounded.
[Illustration: "Abbie Clark and I had our ambrotypes taken to-day", "Mr. Noah T. Clark's Brother and I"]
_July_ 26.--Charlie Wheeler was buried with military honors from the Congregational church to-day. Two companies of the 54th New York State National Guard attended the funeral, and the church was packed, galleries and all. It was the saddest funeral and the only one of a soldier that I ever attended. I hope it will be the last. He was killed at Gettysburg, July 3, by a sharpshooter's bullet. He was a very bright young man, graduate of Yale college and was practising law. He was captain of Company K, 126th N. Y. Volunteers. I have copied an extract from Mr. Morse's lecture, "You and I": "And who has forgotten that gifted youth, who fell on the memorable field of Gettysburg? To win a noble name, to save a beloved country, he took his place beneath the dear old flag, and while cannon thundered and sabers clashed and the stars of the old Union shone above his head he went down in the shock of battle and left us desolate, a name to love and a glory to endure. And as we solemnly know, as by the old charter of liberty we most sacredly swear, he was truly and faithfully and religiously
Of all our friends the noblest, The choicest and the purest, The nearest and the dearest, In the field at Gettysburg. Of all the heroes bravest, Of soul the brightest, whitest, Of all the warriors greatest, Shot dead at Gettysburg.
And where the fight was thickest, And where the smoke was blackest, And where the fire was hottest, On the fields of Gettysburg, There flashed his steel the brightest, There blazed his eyes the fiercest, There flowed his blood the reddest On the field of Gettysburg.
O wailing winds of heaven! O weeping dew of evening! O music of the waters That flow at Gettysburg, Mourn tenderly the hero, The rare and glorious hero, The loved and peerless hero, Who died at Gettysburg.