Cincinnati—Our darling little George died today at half-past one P. M. He was attacked with scarlet fever three or four weeks ago. After a week or two we thought him out of immediate danger, and I returned to Washington. A week ago he seemed so much worse that I was dispatched that he was sinking. I came home a week ago tomorrow. I found him low and was prepared for the worst. He was a very handsome child; abundant waving light hair; very large blue eyes and a broad, full forehead. He looked like my sister Fanny. His corpse reminds us of hers.
He was born in Chillicothe. I heard of his birth at Harrisonburg, Virginia, about the 5th of October, 1864, while with Sheridan in his Valley campaign. I named him George Crook after our favorite corps commander, General Crook. His cousins in Chillicothe were very fond of him. They called him "the little general" or "the little soldier." The brothers called him "the king," because he had his own way. He was a large child, weighing ten pounds when he was born. Born September 29, he was nineteen months, twenty-five days old.
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