The regiment was encamped at Hartford for the most of the winter, and in the spring was ordered to join Gen. Butler in his expedition against New Orleans. Before the departure, my brother was presented with a beautiful sword and sash by his fellow-townsmen, as a testimonial of their appreciation of his bravery. They left Hartford Feb. 26, 1862. The ship was greatly crowded, and the voyage was made with many discomforts, but on March 8 they reached Ship Island, where they were encamped for some weeks. They were not ordered up to New Orleans until just after the taking of the city, much to the disappointment of the young Captain, who was ambitious to see a little of actual warfare. They were stationed at Carrollton just above the city. The situation was low and unhealthy, and my brother, who was greatly weakened by an attack of dysentery while at Ship Island, was poorly able to resist the malaria of the region. He felt his danger, and wrote home that if he felt it would be honorable, he should be tempted to resign and come home. But as the young men he had influenced to enlist had not the privilege of resigning, he could not feel that he ought to leave them. He was attacked by typhoid fever soon after the hot weather became intense. He was ill a few days in his tent, but as he grew worse, he was removed to the regimental hospital, a large house near the camp, where he had comfortable quarters and excellent care. Kind comrades stood about his bed, anticipating with brotherly kindness his every want. But the most skilful surgeons and faithful nurses were powerless to save him. His system was too much weakened to resist the disease, and after a short illness he passed quietly away on the afternoon of Saturday, June 21, exchanging the scenes of strife for the land of everlasting peace.