1862-65: William Blackmar to Lemuel Knapp Blackmar

Bio

Lemuel Knapp Blackmar, born in 1819, is a son of Joseph and grandson of Jacob Blackmar. His mother was Mahala, daughter of Ebenezer Munyan. He went to Providence at the age of sixteen, where he remained eleven years. Since that time he has resided in Thompson. In 1848, he took charge of the grist and saw mill at Grosvenor Dale for sixteen years, beginning November, 1864. He was appointed postmaster at Thompson in August, 1855, and since September of that year has filled that office. He was married in 1846 to Nancy Marguerite, daughter of Edmund Cooper, of Wickford, R. I., and has three children: Martha (b. 1849), Louis (b. 1851) and Mary (b. 1860).

There are frequent references to “Mr. Plumb” in the letters. This was Joseph C. Plumb (1822-1864), the second husband of William’s older sister, Esther (Blackmar) Sumner (1825-1862). Esther’s first husband was William Sumner (1800-1853) and she had two children with him—(1) Willard Sumner (1847-1864) who joined the 1st Connecticut Cavalry in mid-December 1863 and died at Frederick, Maryland on 8 November 1864; and (2) Caroline or “Cally” Sumner (b. 1849. Before Joseph took Esther as his wife, he had previously married, in 1846, the widow Celia Ann (Farrow) Bowen and they had at least three children. Joseph and Celia were enumerated in Thompson in the 1850 US Census where he earned his living as a “dresser tender.” By 1855, either Joseph divorced or abandoned his wife because he took the widow Esther as his second wife that year along with her two young children Willard and Callie. Following Esther’s death in late December 1862, Joseph quickly married yet another widow, Mrs. Martha J. Woodard of North Carolina on 17 September 1863 at Bower’s Hill, Virginia. Alas for Joseph, he was taken prisoner and passed away at Andersonville, Georgia, on 8 August 1864. His Find-A-Grave bio states “he was last seen alive crawling on his hands and knees, too weak to stand for a drink of water.” He is buried in Grave 5002 at Andersonville.

Civil War soldier on the Thompson Common circa 1862. This picture was most likely taken during the return celebration of P.O.W. Dr. John McGregor, who was taken prisoner on 21 July 1861 at Bull Run and was honorably discharged on 29 July 1862. (Thompson Historical Society)

Letter 1

Newbern, North Carolina
May 20th 1862

Dear Brother,

I once more seat myself down to write you a few lines to let you know that I am as well as usual hoping these few lines will find you the same. I am a going to send a box home in your name. I want you to pay the express on it and our folks will pay you. I expect we shall get our pay now soon in the course of a week or two and then I shall send them home some money. I got my box the 16th of this month and was very glad of it. Everything was all in good shape except some white bread which was spoiled. Them shirts they sent are just the thing to wear here—it is so very warm.

These things that I send home I send because I cannot carry them about with me and I hated to throw them away so I thought I would send them home. There is a pipe—one that I made myself. It is the large one. I want them to give it to John Buchanan and tell him to keep it for a family pipe and I would send him something more if I had room.

Tell our folks that the things that belong to James McManus they will keep separate so that when his folks come and call for them, they can let them have them. The following things belong to him. One pair of pants with his name on them, two shirts—one white and one blue. One rubber blanket, one woolen blanket, 1 blue cap, 1 woolen cap, two pair of stockings, one sheath knife, one pipe (the small one), one hair brush, two bibles, one bunch of letters, one bayonet, and all that is tied up in that cap. I have got one pair of pants (my name is on them), two white woolen shirts that never was worn, two pairs of white cotton drawers that have never been worn (one pr. of brown drawers—these I give to father), one blue woolen shirt, one book line upon line, 1 testament, brass key, two shells for mother, one grey secesh cap, three chokers, one necktie. Tell our folks to give the things a good airing and then just put them in my trunk.

About the Express on the box, I want you should send me word what you have to pay and James will pay me his half. Be sure and write as soon as you can get the box. The reason of my sending the box to you, I thought it would not cost so much as it would to send it to father and have it carried to him. You must charge for your trouble.

Have you received that letter with my bounty check in it? I think there will be no trouble in getting the pay on it. I want you should let me know when you get it. I wrote to Edmund yesterday. Whether it will get to him or not, I don’t know but I hope it may. Write as often as you can and I should be glad of a paper once in a while.

Give my love to your wife and children. Also to all of the rest of our folks. Write all the war news and what folks think about our getting home this year. So goodbye. This from your brother, — William Blackmar

After you have read this, let our folks have it. — Wm. Blackmar


Street scene in Newbern, North Carolina during the Civil War

Letter 2

Camp Burnside
Newbern, N. C.
April 9th 1862

Dear Brother,

I now take my pen in hand to inform you of my health which is very good at present, hoping these few lines will find you and your family all well. I have never received any letter from you but have received three papers which I suppose came from you as your name was on them. I was very glad of them as papers are scarce in this part of the country and they serve to pass off many a lonely hour. I have written to you once but have never received any answer. If you have written, the letter has miscarried or delayed somewhere. I should be glad to hear from some of you once in a while for I like to hear how the folks are getting along in that quarter of the globe. Does Mrs. Morse stay with you this year?

You had ought to have been here after the Battle [on Newbern] and gone a foraging with them. You might have got a nice piano worth anywhere from two to five and 8 hundred dollars. The Lieutenant of our company got one worth five or six hundred dollars and has sent it home. There was three pianos got in our company besides a nice sewing machine worth 150 or two hundred dollars, besides a great many other things too numerous to mention. I did not have a chance to get anything as I was sick aboard of the boat until everything had been taken that was worth anything. That’s the way I got out of being in the battle, but I was sick and no mistake. Erastus was in the battle and fought like a tiger. But he is about as thin as a hatchet. The Boys all run on him a good deal because he is so odd. He goes by the name of Reben Appetite on the account of his eating so much but I don’t blame him for eating all he can get as that is not a great lot at the most.

James McManus is here. His health is very good. He has been our 1st Corporal but I think he will get a Sergeant’s berth soon. Thomas Mullen is as tough as ever and looks the best that I ever saw him. Mr. Plumb is as well as usual but is about as homesick a man as you ever saw. Charles Eddy, I have not seen or heard anything from him since we left Hatteras some time in January. He was then going to Fortress Monroe to the Hospital. The report is that he is dead. Whether it is so or not, I don’t know. Has Doctor [John] McGregor got home yet? And what news did he bring from the rebel country? Which way did the town meeting [go]? I suppose it went the old way.

Enclosed you will find 70 dollars, $25 of which I want you to give to father and twenty dollars I want you should see that Thomas Mullens’ wife has. She lives down in the house between James Cruff’s and Stephen Lewis. If you don’t pay it to her, leave it at the post office and she can call for it there, but it won’t be much trouble for you to go down there and pay it to her yourself and then it will be all right. The rest of the money you will pay to Esther. If you have to pay anything on it, take your pay out of the money equal to what is sent to each one adn have father pay you for your trouble out of my money. I want you should write as soon as you get the money and let me know.

Give my love to your wife and Mattie and Louis and I send the baby a kiss. Write as often as you can and have Mattie and the rest write too. Love to all who takes pains to enquirer. This is all for now so I must close up wishing goodbye. This from your brother, — William Blackmar

Tell father to use the money if he wants but use it sparingly and it will last the longer. I expect more money the first of May which I shall send him and tell him to give me credit for it. I did not draw but 26 dollars.


Letter 3

Newbern, N. C.
[early May 1862]

Dear Brother,

I now take the opportunity of answering your kind letter which I received this morning and was very glad to hear from you and hear that you and your family were all well. I am as well as usual and am gaining in flesh every day. I think that I am about as heavy now as I was when I enlisted. We are here [illegible] and how long we are to stay here, I don’t know. The report is and has been confirmed that Yorktown is taken. The Rebels, I guess, was afraid to face McClellan’s forces and retreated to Richmond. It is reported that General McDowell is at or near that place with a very large force and very likely that McClellan will advance and meet them and if they make a stand, they will get overpowered and the place taken without any fear or doubt, I think, and iti s the general opinion of all the leading men here that if they have a hard battle at Richmond, that it will be about the closing up of this business. At any rate, I hope so for I have got about sick of soldiering.

I have not had any letter from Edmund since I left Annapolis. If I knew where to direct a letter to [him], I would write one to him as I should like to hear from him and hear how he likes soldiering. I hear that he is rather sick of it but it is no use, he is now where he can’t get away and must toe the mark, headache or no headache. That’s the way we have to do. Our folks think by what they write that we suffer for want of something to eat but it is no such thing. We have all we want to eat, drink, and to wear although it is not quite as good as one might wish. But I should very much like a good meal of victuals at home. I think it would relish first rate. But absence forbids at present and I must be content with my lot which I hope by the help of God wil not be long.

I send you this order to draw my bounty for me as I thought you could get it with less trouble than I could. I would present it to the town treasurer and see if he would cash it and take an order on the State Treasurer. If he would not do it. I would try the bank and if they will cash it at a small percent, let them have it. If you cannot get it without, you can send it to the Paymaster General of Connecticut and he is obliged to pay it when it is due which will be, I believe, about the first of June. You will have to back it with your name when it is cashed and when you get it, take pay out of it for your trouble and expense and pay the rest to the folks. You should write to me as soon as you get it and let me know.

I have received [ ] papers in all that, I suppose, you sent me, and was very glad to receive them and would like you to send me more if convenient. Is Ellis in the mills with Joseph this year? I want you should write to me as soon as you get this and write all the news. This is all I can think of for this time. Goodbye until I hear from you again. This from your brothre, — William Blackmar

To Mattie & Louis, I have just been to dinner. We had stewed beans and coffee which was very good. I was glad to hear from you and hear that you were well and had not forgot me. I shall keep that lock of hair until I come home. I should like to see you all very much but don’t expect to very soon. Tell your mother that I like her advice very much. We have a prayer meeting twice a week and I go to all of them. You wanted me to send you something. I had nothing but these cards that I could send which I send you. Write as often as you can. My love to you all. This is from your Uncle William Blackmar

Direct to Burnside’s Division, 2nd Brigade, 11th Regt. C. V., Co. G, Newbern, N. C. Care of F. M. Sprague.

Write as often as you can, all of you.


Letter 4

Newbern, N. C.
May 12th 1862

Dear Brother,

As Mr. Plumb was a going to send a box in your name, he wanted I should write a few lines that you might understand how to dispose of the contents. About middle way of the box you will find a part of a rubber blanket. All the things above this blanket you will forward to Mrs. Mullen and all the things below, together with the blanket, you will give to Esther. Not having the money to pay the Express which you will please pay and Mrs. Mullen will pay half and Esther the other half. And also pay you for your trouble. Tell Esther that Mr. Plumb is well and also Mrs. Mullen that Thomas is well. You will please inform us of the reception of the box. Yours truly, — J. C. Plumb, Thomas Mullen, per William Blackmar

Newbern, N. C.
May 12th, 1862

Dear Brother, I thought it would be a good time to write a few lines to let you know that I am not very well. Have not been able to do duty in two or three days but I guess that I shall come out all right if nothing new happens to me. Have you received that letter that I wrote to you in answer to the one you wrote me? Has our folks sent my box yet? What day of the month did it start and what did they have to pay on it? After I receive it, I think I shall send it right back filled with clothes and other notions. I shall send it to you and if I have the money to pay the Express on it, I shall pay it. But if not, you will have to pay it and our folks will pay you.

Give respects to all enquiring friends. Give my love to your wife and children and also to all the rest of our folks. This is all for this time. Write as soon and as often as convenient and I would be thankful for a paper once in a while as reading matter is rather scarce in this quarter. Now I will bring my letter to a close by wishing you all goodbye. From your brother in Dixie, — William Blackmar


Letter 5

Newbern, North Carolina
June 9th 1862

Dear Brother,

I now seat myself down to answer your letter which I received this morning and glad to hear that you were all well even as this leaves me at present. I hope that I may remain so until I once more set my feet on the shores of Old Connecticut which i hope will not be very long. Mr. Plumb is quite sick and has been ever since he heard of Esther’s being worse. He is going to have a furlough he expects soon. The Colonel is going to resign and is coming home and he is coming home with the colonel when he comes. I guess if he could not get a chance to come home, he would not live two months.

We are out on picket now—our company and Co. B—about seven or eight miles from camp guarding a sawmill and gristmill to keep the rebels from burning them. The place is called Evans Mills and the man that used to own them is a captain of the rebel cavalry that we are guarding. This is the pleasantest place I have seen since I left Hartford. It is a very large plantation containing 5,000 acres of land with all sorts of fruit in great abundance—apples, pears, peaches, plums, nectarines, figs, mulberries, and blackberries. I never saw the like of them before. The lots are completely covered with them. I think I should like to own such a plantation if it was up that way but I don’t like the climate of this part of the country.

Our Boys are to work building a dam at this place as the freshets and rains have carried the dam away. There is two upright saws in the sawmill and three runs of stone in the gristmill. There is one of the handsomest runner in this mill that ever you saw. It is a stone imported from France and is as white as chalk.

Thomas Mullen has been very sick with a fever but is better now. I think if he is careful, he will get up as well as ever soon. He is at the hospital. George Johnson from Putnam is very sick at the hospital with the typhoid fever. I have not seen him since I left camp about a week ago. They say he cannot live. Thomas Lawton is very sick and they think it will go rather hard with him.

I did not have to pay anything on my box that father sent. I think they paid enough. The reason my sending that box home was that I had more than I could carry around so I thought I would send them home and it was most too bad to throw the things away. What did you think of that secesh cap that I sent home?

I suppose you have heard of the death of Charles M. Eddy. If not, he died last February the 7th day on his way to Fortress Monroe. I guess that’s about as well as you could have done with that check. I am satisfied. It is confirmed that Corinth is evacuated but as to Richmond being taken, I guess it is not taken but will be without doubt. They are expecting them to retreat down through this way. If they do, Gen. Burnside will give them a warm reception.

Give my respects to your wife and children and write as often as you can. This from your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 6

Fredericksburg, Virginia
August 30th, 1862

Dear Brother,

Your letter of the 25th inst. came to hand this morning and I was very glad to hear from you and hear that you were all well and also to hear that my money and box had gone through all right. I am as well as usual and so is Mr. Plumb. We are stationed here in the city yet and how long we shall stay here is rather uncertain. I think that we shall stay until we are driven out.

Yesterday was a busy day with the union people and the contrabands in packing and moving goods to the depot to go off. About the middle of the afternoon, we had orders to fall in double quick with everything on as the rebels were advancing on us in force. So we fell in. We were thrown out as skirmishers with orders to fight our way back if we had to retreat but to hold them in check as long as we could. So after staying out until dark and no signs of any enemy, we were ordered back to our quarters where we now are. We are going on picket duty tonight to be gone a week if nothing happens or unless we get drove in by the rebels. There is two or three other lines of pickets outside of us so we shall have time to get out of the way if we are attacked. Burnside says that if we have to leave the city, that he will level it to the ground so it will not do them much good if they do come here.

There has been a continual flocking in of contrabands since we came here and they have all been sent out to Washington where they will be sent to Central America as they are going to colonize them there. This war is turning out to be a black abolition war and if I had have known it, they never would got me to enlist. I wish they would give orders to shoot every negro that showed his head. I should like the fun for I have got so sick of seeing so many of them round that I can’t bear the sight of one.

I heard that Dr. McGregor was going out again. Is that so? If it is, what regiment is he going with? I should think he had got about enough of this war, shouldn’t you? I want you to send me a list of all that have gone from round there in your next letter and if their names are in your paper, I would like to have you send me one as I like to read news from round home.

I expect that Pope & Jackson are into it tough and tight as there has been heavy cannonading heard off in the direction of where they are. We heard this morning that Pope was whipping them up handsomely and that they was retreating back and also that one of Jackson’s whole brigades had been taken prisoners. Whether this is true or not, I don’t know. You will hear of it as quick as I shall. They have pretty much all left here and gone to join Pope and McClellan at or near Alexandria, Va., near Bull Run. But I guess that this won’t be another Bull Run affair. If it is, we might as well give up first as last for if we can’t whip them now with what men we have got, we can’t whip them at all.

There has been a report that Gen. [Franz] Sigel had shot Gen. [Irwin] McDowell but I don’t think there is any truth in the report as I have not seen it in any of the papers yet. Have you heard anything about it? 1 There is so many reports that you can’t believe a thing you read and hardly what you see. About the cape that I sent in my other box, it belonged to me. It was one that I cut off of my overcoat and I thought it would make a pretty vest. It wasn’t of much account but there is no need to have lied about it for it was not worth over 25 cents. I shall ask Jim if he wrote such words to his father, If he did, he is to blame. But it is not worth making a fuss about.

Have you got your barn finished yet? How is Jo making it in the mills this year? How does things look? Is there a going to be much of a crop this year? Things don’t look very well here as it has been so dry and hot that everything is all dried up. The fruit looks pretty well. Is there a going to be much fruit up in that section?

I am in hopes that they will close up this business so that we can come home sometime this fall or winter but I am a little afraid that it will take into another year. But if I can have my health and don’t have much fighting to do, I shall get along I guess. I should like to have you write a little oftener if you could just as well as not, for a letter from home puts new courage into me. Give my love to all of your folks and all of our folks & to all enquiring friends and write as soon as you get this. I don’t know as you can read this but read what you can and guess the rest. Goodbye all. Yours respectfully, — William Blackmar

1 McDowell and Sigel had a strong dislike for each other gained during the battle of Second Manassas fought in August of 1862.


Letter 7

Fredericksburg, Virginia
August 11th 1862

Dear Brother,

I have remitted by express a package of checks and money which after you draw the money on them & take the pay for your trouble, I wish you to deliver as follows—viz, twenty dollars to father, and the rest to Esther for Mr. Plumb. Also I have directed a box to you which you will deliver to father if you ever get it. I heard about that overcoat cape that was in that other box. That belongs to me. The things that are in this box are mine and Mr. Plumbs. The object of send them home is that we had got to throw them away and I thought that it would pay to send them home. You tell Joseph that that dress coat is just as good as new and if he can make Orrin anything out of it, to take it. I thought it would make him a good suit of clothes. What do you think about it? If it will, tell him he may have it by paying the express on the box. Also the cap that the fore piece is rounded off. Them new pants are mine and those letters I want Lucy to take and put in my trunk and put with the others and lock it up. The rest of the things such as shirts and drawers can be kept together as they belong to us both.

Those checks are some that we bought for $8 a piece and I thought that they was as good as money and we could make two dollars apiece on them as they are the same as money.

I received a letter from Jane last Saturday announcing the death of our dear mother and I can assure you that it came like a shock upon me as I did not think of her dying any more than I think of coming home tomorrow. I deeply feel her loss made doubly worse by my being far from home among strangers where I could not have the privilege of seeing her before she died and bidding her a last farewell. I hope that you will do all you can to comfort and console your aged father in this hour of his deepest trial.

I don’t think of anything more—only we are under marching orders to march at a moment’s warning. Write as soon as you get this, without fail. Give my love to all and oblige. Your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 8

Camp 11th Regt. C. V. opposite Fredericksburg, Va.
January 6th 1863

Dear Brother,

Having a few leisure moments I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and I hope this will find you the same together with your family. I have not heard from you in sometime and I did not know but if I wrote you, that you would take pains enough to answer it. I got a letter from Jane yesterday announcing the death of our dear sister. I can sympathize with you all in your afflictions for I think that we have been sorely afflicted for the past year. But it is God that has bereft us. He can all our sorrows heal.

I had been expecting to hear of her death for some time back so I had got my mind made up to it, yet I feel as though I had lost a near and very dear friend. But she has got through with what we have all got to go through with sooner or later and has gone to meet our dear mother in heaven. I hope that when we are called upon to go the way of all the earth that we may be as well prepared as I think they were.

Mr. Plumb received your letter yesterday and was very glad that you wrote to him and in return wishes me to say to you for what you have done for he esteems it a great favor. In regard to the money that he sent to Cally, he says take it and use it as you see fit. And if you will see to the things in the house he wishes you would and if there is a thing that you can see to any better by taking it home with you, take it and use it. The Parlor stove, he says, if Lucy wants it, let her have it and take care of it and use it until he calls for it. He wants you to keep an account of what you do for him and of any expenses that you have been for him and he will make you satisfied for your trouble. He wishes you to do it as you know better what to do than anyone else.

In regard to what you wrote about some gravestones for Esther, he says if it would be the minds of you all, that he would rather get a good monument for mother and Esther and would be willing to pay is share, let it cost what it will if it would meet the minds of you all. For my part, I am willing to do my part towards it, let it be more or less. I wish you would talk with father and Joseph and Lucy about it and when you write, which I hope will be soon, let me know what you have concluded upon. Tell Lucy that if she will take care of the children until he can arrange matters that he will make her a present of five dollars towards her share if you conclude to do so. He says he is willing to pay her two dollars a week for taking care of the children and more if she says so. Let Lucy have money to get the children clothes when needed. Tell Cally he was glad that she wrote him such a good letter and feels deeply with her for the loss of her mother. Tell her to be a good sister to the children and she shall not lose anything if he lives to come back so that he can repay her. Tell Willard & Cally that he will write to them as soon as possible. He sends his love to Willard and Cally and the little children and to all. [no signature]


Letter 9

Headquarters Provost Guards
Suffolk, Virginia
June 11th 1863

Dear Brother,

Having a few leisure moments I thought I would send you a few lines to let you know how we are getting along down in Old Virginia. I am as well as usual. I do not hear from you very often. I wish you would write once in a while and let a fellow know whether you were dead or alive. What are you up to these days? I suppose you are hoeing the corn and potatoes to kill. How does the crops look this year? Do you think that it looks favorable for good crops? I heard that father had planted all of the south lot and got through planting before half the folks did. I think if that is the case, that he is growing smart in his old age. But I am afraid that he is laying out more work that he will be able to carry out. I hope, however, that he will be able to go through with what he has begun and that he may have good crops adn live to enjoy the benefit of them.

I heard from Edmund one day this week. He was well but was pretty well tired out from long marches and bivouacking on the ground. He said that they had had two battles and he was fortunate enough to keep out of both of them, he being on guard at the time. He has not seen as hard times yet as we did when we marched through Maryland and God grant that he may never see such times as we then saw. It makes our blood run cold to look back and see what we then suffered marching through the dust without (some days) anything to eat, and the rest of the time without half enough. But enough of this for now.

What is your opinion about the war? Do you think that there is any signs of its ending very soon? I think that we shall have to stay our time out and if we live to get home—all right, and if not, we shall have to face the grim monster with as good courage as we can. As long as there is life, there is hope and if we keep up good courage, that is half of the battle.

We have got a very good place here now at present. How long we shall stay, I don’t know but I think as long as ew stay about here that we will stay where we are. I have just received a letter that Jane sent me last August the 25th. The news was pretty fresh, I tell you. I don’t see where it has been all this time. Mr. Plumb is well. I saw him day before yesterday. He is with the rest of the company and I hope he will stay here. Has father got any gravestones for mother yet? What kind of ones if he going to have? Have him get some good ones and all put in and pay for them, I am willing to pay my share.

Everything is quiet here at present with the exception of the pickets have a little shooting to do once in a while but that don’t trouble us any. If I don’t come home on a furlough this summer, I want you to come out and see me after haying if I am where I am now. Won’t you? Give my love to all of your folks and all the rest. And write as soon as you get this and as often as you can. I wish you would send me the Transcript every week and I will make it right with you. Hoping to hear from you soon, I subscribe myself your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 10

Gloucester Point, Virginia
October 14, 1863

Dear Brother,

I take this opportunity of writing to you to let you know how we are getting along down in this quarter of the world. Am well as usual and hope this will find you all the same. You will perceive that we have left the vicinity of Portsmouth. We now are in camp on Gloucester Point opposite Yorktown, Va. How long we shall stay here, I don’t know but I hope not a great while as I don’t like the place.

Have you stopped sending them papers? I have not got any in a long time. Have you seen Plumb’s wife? If you have, how do you like her?

Enclosed you will find six bounty checks payable to your order. You will please take them to the cashier of Thompson Bank and get them cashed if you can adn pay the discount and let me know how much you have to pay. Also as soon as you can get them cashed, you will please express the remainder of the money to my address:

Co. G, 11th Regt. C. V., Portsmouth, Va.

and send the receipt by mail as soon as you send the money. Give my love to all and let me know as soon as you receive them and you will oblige your brother, — William Blackmar

Please pay the express.


Letter 11

Gloucester Point, Virginia
November 9th 1863

Dear Brother,

I received your letter containing $8.20 dollars this afternoon and was very much pleased to get it as I was afraid that you had not got it. You got it cashed and expressed for less than I expected but the cheaper the better for me. I expect that we shall get paid now in the course of a week or two and I shall either buy up a lot of bounty checks or send about fifty dollars in money to father. If I send my checks, you need not be any afraid to get them cashed as I shall send none but what are correct so you need not be afraid to present them for payment. Three of them that I sent you belonged to Sergeant A. Burley of our company. He paid all the express on them and half of the discount in cashing so it cost me but fifty-five cents for my money.

How is times in that part of the country and what are you up to these times? We are now, I believe, on our last year and I wish it was the last month but if they will only let us stay where we are, it will soon slip away. We are now inside of Point Gloucester opposite Yorktown, Va. and we have got pretty comfortable quarters for cold weather to what we had last winter. Whether we will be left to stay here this winter or not, I don’t know but I hope we may. We have quite a lot of guard & picket duty to do but prefer to do it rather than marching about all the time. I am hoping to get a furlough but if I cannot, i wish you would come out and see me, it would not cost you very dear and it would do you a great deal of good besides seeing some of he country and then you could see how the soldiers live.

I don’t think that Mr. Plumb made much buying bounty checks with that money you sent him. I guess he let his have about all that he had left after getting married and I hope he is satisfied, If he is, we ought to be, I shall have considerable to tell you about what he has said about you and your folks, but I don’t want you to say or write anything to him as we are on good terms and I want to be so as long as we are here together.

About them papers, I have not got yours since I have been here and hope you will continue to send them. I am well as usual and hope this will find you all the same. Tell Mattie and Louis that I should like to hear from them. Also Cally and Willard—where are they now? Give my love to all of them and tell them to write and give my love to Morgia & the boys. Direct to Co. G, 11th Regt. Conn. Vols., Yorktown, Va. No more for this time. So goodbye to all. From your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 12

Gloucester Point, Virginia
November 13, 1863

Dear Brother,

Yours of the 9th inst. came to hand yesterday and I now take this opportunity of answering it. I am as well as usual but have not much news to write you. You said that the letter which you sent me contained $57.20 but it contained $58.20. You said that you paid one dollar to get them cashed and 75 cents to express it and 6 cents to George Crosby for carrying it to the cars which would leave $58.19 to come to me which I have got and one cent besides. When I send my money home, you tell father to pay you whatever interest you have to pay on the money and and what other charges you forgot to pat and let me know how much you have to pay as soon as convenient after you pay it. Also I wish that you would take a note of father without interest for the money that I have sent him so that if anything happens to either of us we shall know how we stand. I have sent home just $200 and have had six dollars sent back to me which would be $194 and probably I shall send this payday fifty dollars more which will make $244 for which you will take note in my name bearing no interest and I shall charge none.

Please let me know in your next if you think it a good idea. If he ain’t willing to give a note, you take an account of this, will you not?

I don’t think of much to write so I will draw this to a close. Have you received a letter in answer to the package which you sent me? Give my love to your folks and all enquiring friends, if there be any. and believe me as ever your brother, — William Blackmar

P. S. I am very glad that times are so good there and only wish that I were there to help father make cider and do whatever I could to help him. We are now on our last year and it will soon fly away. The quicker the better to suit me. Hoping to hear from you often. I remain, — William Blackmar


Letter 13

Wallingford. Connecticut
February 22, 1864

Dear Brother,

Enclosed you will find a ten dollar bounty check which i have made payable to your order. It is not due until the 27th of March. You had better put it into a letter and send it to the Postmaster General and forbid the payment of it to any other’s order but yours. Do it as soon as you can and he will send it back to you and tell you when it is due. I want you to send me eight dollars by return mail and you may have the check and the full amount. Now be sure and send me the money by return of mail. Two dollars will pay you pretty good interest (won’t it?).

I am going to try and get a furlough if I can. If I can’t get one, I think I shall take a French leave. What do you think of that? They could let is all [go] home if they had a mind to but they are so damned mean they won’t if they can help it. Excuse me for using such an expression but I can’t help it. I am well in body but not in mind. I had rather if we can’t come home again that they would send us out South. Then we should know what to depend on. If I don’t get a chance to come home, I want you and father & Joseph if he can to come down here and see me. But you and father come anyway. I will let you know when to come.

Give my love to all the folks and don’t forget to send the money by return of mail. Now you be sure and forbid the payment of it to anybody but your order. Theodore Smith, Co. K, 11th Regt. Conn. Vols. is the name.

I don’t think of much more to write so I will draw to a close by hoping to hear from you by return of mail. Ever your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 14

Wallingford, Connecticut
February 25, 1864

Dear Brother,

Having a few leisure moments, I thought that I would write you a few lines to let you know how we are getting along. I am well as usual and hope this will find you all the same. We are under marching orders so they say. whether it is so or not, I don’t know. The Eighth are cooking three days rations but we have got no such orders as yet, but we may before morning. There is a few of the boys that behave so bad that it spoils the fun for the whole. There is a good many that take a french furlough and go home, but I don’t like to do it, would you?

Have you received a letter with a bounty check in it? If you have, have you answered it? I have not received it as yet. I am going to send you my check which you will give me credit for as soon as you get it cashed. I don’t know as they will cash it until the 27th of next month but you might send to the paymasters office in New Haven and he will tell you when it is due and when he will pay it. After you get your pay for the trouble of getting it cashed, give me the credit for the balance and endorse it on that note if you like. If I had plenty of money, I could buy plenty of bounty checks for from six to nine dollars apiece, but I don’t think that it will pay to send money here now as we are liable to go at any moment. But if you have not sent me that eight dollars, I wish you might send it as soon as you can.

Give my love to all the rest of the folks and write as soon as you get this and direct to Wallingford, Connecticut, or elsewhere. Hoping to hear from you soon, I subscribe myself your brother, — William Blackmar

Where is Joseph going to move? Has he got him any place yet? I got a letter from Lucy today stating that Andrew was not very well. Do you hear from Willard very often? How does he like soldiering. Tell Cally to write to me and remember me to all of the folks. So goodbye.

Tell Mattie to write to me as often as she can make it convenient and I will answer them. Has she got the music to “The Vacant Chair?” and “Who will care for Mother now?” If not, you get it for her. — William Blackmar


Letter 15

Wellingford, Connecticut
February 26, 1864

Dear Brother,

We have just got orders to cook three days rations so I expect we shall be off soon. Where we are to go, I don’t know. But if we can’t come home, I don’t care how quick we go for then we shall know what to depend upon. It snows very hard today.

Mrs. Pumb arrived here last night.

Give my love to all and direct to Co. G, 11th Conn. Vols., Washington D. C. Hoping to hear from you soon and often, I will close by bidding you all goodbye. From your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 16

Wallingford, Connecticut
February 26th 1864

Dear Brother & Sister,

I have just received your letter containing eight dollars which I was very glad to receive. I sent a letter to you today with a bounty check in it belonging to me. I forgot to put his name to it but he can do it himself. I mean your name of course.

We expect to go tomorrow. Our rations are all ready and so are we if we can’t come home. I did think that I would take a French leave tonight but I will take your advice. Your letter was short & sweet but hope you will write a longer one next time. I am agoing to send this buck by Mr. Plumb’s wife so I will write a word or two tomorrow after I found out we are going. So I will bid you good night.

Saturday morning, February 27, 1864

Good morning. How do you all do this morning? I am well and hope this will find you the same. I expect we shall go today but I can’t tell anything about it. We [are] liable to go at any moment, I suppose. If you have not sent that check to see when it is due and forbid the payment of it to anybody’s order but yours, you had better do so at once as someone might get one in ahead of you. But if there is any trouble about it, I will make [it good].

We have got orders to pack up as we are right off so I must close by wishing you goodbye. Write soon and often.

Direct to Co. G, 11th Conn. Vols., Washington D. C.

From your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 17

Camp Eleventh Regiment Connecticut Vols.
Williamsburg, Virginia
April 13th 1864

Dear Brother,

Not having heard from you in sometime time and wishing to know whether you got your money on those checks or not, I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am as well as common but am not as fleshy as I was when I was at home. I have heard that Willard was dead. Is there any truth in the story or not? I wish you would let me know as soon as you can and if he is not dead, give me his address so I can write to him.

Did Mrs. Plumb give you a letter from me when she came from Wellingford? I did not know as you have never answered any letters since I left there. I want you to let me know how much of a dividend they declared at the bank and whether you got mine and how much you got. I want you to keep that towards what I owe you and tell me how much I owe you besides on that 25 dollars also, I wish if you don’t take the Transcript that you would subscribe for it and send it to me and take your pay out of what I send you. We have not got paid off yet and don’t know when we shall but as soon as we are I shall send you some and fifty dollars of it I want you to put in in some good savings bank where it will be on good interest and compound the rest if there is more than enough to pay you what I owe you. Put it in the bank with my name.

I suppose that you have seen Mr. Plumb as he has been home. How did you and he make out in your settlement? I suppose you were all glad to see him—especially Morgia. I know she must have been very glad to see and hear that he was anywhere about. Tell Morgia & Mattie that a letter wouyld be very acceptable at any time and Louis too. His is Mamy get along? Is she as full of talk and fun as ever? Where is Cally? I haven’t heard a word from her since I left home. Give my love to her and tell her to write.

I don’t think you Democrats done very well for Governor. If you can’t do better than that, I am afraid that Old Abe will get to be President another four years. The 18th [Connecticut] boys all come to vote. I heard that Isaiah came. Give my love to all of the folks and write as soon as you get this. Send me by Mr. Plumb one dollar’s worth of postage stamps. No more for this time. Goodbye. From your brother, — Willam Blackmar


Letter 18

Camp Eleventh Conn. Vols.
Williamsburg, Va.
April 28th 1864

Dear Brother,

Yours of the 18th instead. came to hand day before yesterday and I was much pleased to hear from [you] and hear that you were all well even as this leave me at the present. I had to send six cents to the postmaster at Fort Monroe before I could get the letter which you sent.

We are under marching orders and have been for a week or two. How soon we may go, I don’t know but expect we may go the first of next week. The officers got orders to send in all their baggage but what they could carry in a valise within five days which looks as though there was agoing to be something done. They are landing troops and have been for a week or two at Yorktown and Gloucester Point, Va.; also at Newport News. There must be an awful lot of troops at both places. Gen. Wm. F. Smith is in command at Yorktown & vicinity. Our regiment is brigaded now. We compose the 2nd Brigade, 2nd Division, 18th Army Corps. Gen. Wistar is our Division commander and Col. Stedman our Brigade commander.

There is to be two men shot today or tomorrow at this place. They are from the 2nd New Hampshire Regiment. They deserted and were caught and are to be shot in the presence of their regiment. Col. Stedman is to have the charge of shooting them. It may be so we can see them shot but it will be no pleasant sight.

I was very glad of those stamps as I was entirely out. The same day I got this letter, I expressed to you twenty-five dollars of money. It was about all I can well spare at this present time as I owed considerable. We had been so long without any money but I shall never owe so much again as I am no better off than I should be without it. Perhaps you may think that I have gambled it away but it is no such thing as I have hardly played a game of cards since I came back nor I don’t mean to.

Mr. Plumb came back day before yesterday but I did not ask him many questions as I knew he would not tell me anything if I did. All he came home for was just to see that woman of his. He got almost love cracked and made up a story that if he did not come home & settle his affairs that it would be great to him and his children. Anybody would suppose to hear him talk that he was worth his thousands but I don’t believe he will get a furlough again very quick.

I want you to write as soon as you get this and tell me whether you get that money or not, and take your pay out of it and keep run of the rest for I shant. You need not bother about putting any into the savings bank until I sent enough to make it pay. I want you to send me Willards address when you write again and all the news you can get. Give my love to father and tell him that I think that this summer’s campaign is a going to wind up this war business so that if nothing happens to me, probably it will be so I can come home for good by next spring certain. Give my love to all the folks and tell them to write and you do the same as often as you can. So I will close by wishing you all goodbye until you hear from me again.

From your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 19

Macon House in Portsmouth, Va.; used as an Army Hospital in 1864.

Macon House Hospital
Portsmouth, Va.
May 23, 1864

Dear Brother,

I write you these few lines to let you know how I am getting along. I am well with the exception of my hand which is quite sore yet and I hope it may so until this campaign is over. I was wounded on the 9th of this month between three and four o’clock p.m. It is nothing but a flesh wound and will not affect my hand at all after it once gets well. It was a pretty lucky hit for me as I was wounded the first man in the regiment and I might have got it worse if I had gone farther on as it was a pretty hot place. I was wounded while forming in line of battle. I think it was the 16th that the rebs made an attack on our men in a very heavy fog and took our men all by surprise. But they got repulsed with great slaughter and our men suffered terribly. Our regiment had quite a number wounded but I have not heard as there was any killed. It seems to be the general opinion that Butler has got whipped as he is back within five miles of Bermuda Hundred, the place where we landed first, but is strongly entrenched.

I was in hopes that they would get Richmond before my hand got better as I don’t care about going back up there again for I might not get off so well another time. We don’t fare very well here but it is not because Uncle Sam don’t furnish us enough. It is because the doctors are contractors and they are making a good speck [speculation] out of it. They get 40 cents a day for each man.

You answer this letter and let Mattie write the other and send them separate, and tell me if you got that money I sent you and direct to Ward 5. [no signature]


Letter 20

The Knight US Army General Hospital in New Haven, Connecticut

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
June 13, 1864

Dear Brother,

You will be surprised to see a letter from me headed at this place but I came here last night on the steamer George Clary [?]. I am as well as ever and hope these few lines will find you the same. the State Agent came to the corporal at Portsmouth and wanted all men that would not be able for duty in thirty days to get ready and [ ] as soon as the boat came. So I went to the doctor expecting he would send me to the regiment. He asked what was the matter with me and I told him. He examined me and said that I did not [ ] and recommended me for a twenty days furlough, and the same day sent me on here with a lot of sick and wounded soldiers….

I want you to come down here to see me whether I come home with you or not and bring me about ten dollars in money. I will go home with you if I can. If youy don’t come, please send me the money as soon as you get this. But come if possible. I wil tell you all when I see you. Have Mattie come with you. Give my love to all and father. Hoping to see you…I will draw to a close. Your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 21

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
September 22, 1864

Dear Brother,

I wrote you these few lines to let you know that I am well and enjoying yself first rate. I am acting as Assistant Ward Master in Ward 4 and like it first rate. There is a great meeting here today on the green to ratify the nomination of Gen. McClellan. I am going down soon to see how it comes off. I want you as soon as you get this to either go or send ten dollars to Mr. John Buchanan without fail. We have not got paid off yet but expect to as soon as next week and then I will either come & bring you some money or send it to you so you can make it all right when it comes for your trouble and the money too. Now be sure and pay it to him as soon as you can after you receive this.

Do you hear anything from Edmund or Willard? They have had a big battle there this week and I should like to hear from them. Please let me know of this and whether you paid him or not and write as soon after this as you can. Excuse this short letter as I have considerable writing to do & I will do better next time. Give my love to all the folks and believe me as ever your brother, — William Blackmar

Knight General Hospital, New Haven, Ct. Ward 4


Letter 22

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
October 9th 1864

Dear Brother,

I write you these few lines to let you know how I am getting along, and more especially to send you some money. I am as well as usual adn am enjoying myself first rate. You had ought to have been here night before last to the torchlight procession. It was the greatest sight that I ever saw. There was somewhere from 30 to 40,000 people present and it was splendid. I think that the Democrats stand a good chance if they turn out and do what they can do, but enough of this politics. Election will tell the story so hurrah for Little Mac, our next President.

I am agoing to send you four twenty dollar bills legal tender notes. you will see by looking at them that they are drawing interest at six percent with compound interest so I thought that about as good as to put them out and a little better. So you may pull them down and keep them. Just send me a receipt that you have got eighy dollars of my money—that is, if I don’t come home again and if I do, we will make it all straight.

I don’t know whether they will send me to the front right away or not but I have not been examined yet so I don’t believe they will send me without an examination. I want you to send me word as soon as you receive the money.

Have you heard from Edmund yet? If you have, I wish you would send me his letter. You tell father that I did not get but ninety dollars as my bounty was not put on the rolls and the paymaster would not pay only what was on the rolls. Tell him if he really wants the thirty dollars which is the amount of the note that I gave him, that I will see that he has it as soon as you let me know, and if he had just as leave let the note run that I had as I want to keep this bills that I send you. you will see on the back of the bill that at the end of three years the one who holds them can either take $3.88 interest on one of them or $23.88 for the bill, the interest to be paid in gold. You can ask Mr. Sharp and see if it is not just as I say about them, and if he says not and thinks I could do better than to keep them, let me know, and I will tell you what to do with them. But I am satisfied that they are better to keep than to put at interest.

Give my love to all the folks and be sure and write as soon as you get the money as I shall feel uneasy until I hear from them. So goodbye. From your brother, — William Blackmar

Knight General Hospital, New Haven, Connecticut

October 11th 1864

I have come to the conclusion to not send you but sixty dollars instead of eighty as I at first thought I would as it will leave me rather short so you will lay that away and keep it as I directed. They sent a squad away to the front yesterday but they did not send me. I think I am good for them until after election and then I don’t care. So goodbye.From your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 23

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
December 6, 1864

Dear Brother,

I write you these few lines to let you know that I am well as usual. How do you all do? I meant to have come home to thanksgiving but I could not get away. I was head nurse in Ward Two and the ward master said he could not let me come. But I am agoing to try and come home to New Years if I can. I am now a clerk in the Major’s office and I like it first rate. I think if I can suit them that I will have a job all winter.

Have you heard from Edmund or Willard lately? I have got to go to work so I will draw to a close. I want you to lend me $20 by return of mail as we are not agoing to get pay until January and I shall want some. Please send it without delay. Give my love to all the folks and believe me as ever your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 24

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
January 1, 1864 [should be 1865]

Dear Brother,

I write these few lines to let you know that Willard is dead. He died in the hospital at Frederick City, Maryland, sometime in November of acute diarrhea. I am very sorry to hear of this but it must be so as it come from the surgeon in charge of the hospital. I will send you the letter that 1 wrote to the doctor and you can read what he wrote in return. You write to the surgeon in charge of the hospital and find out whether he was buried so that his body could be found and also find out about his effects, whose hands they are in, and have them sent to you. Also have his papers sent so you can draw his back pay and bounty. I suppose this will almost kill [his sister] Cally, but tell her to not worry herself too much for he is better off than as though he had got his time to stay in the service and suffer and perhaps be killed. It is one consolation to know that he died a natural death and not by the hand of a rebel foe.

Hoping you will answer soon, I am as ever your brother, — William Blackmar


Letter 25

Knight General Hospital
New Haven, Connecticut
January 10, 1865

Dear Brother,

I write you these few lines to let you know that I received your letter and in reply I will say that I think the best way for you to do is to go out and get his body as soon as possible. It would not be of any use for me to write to the surgeon in charge as regards his effects

1861: William Leonard Forster to Friend Lottie

This letter was signed “Will Forster” and I believe him to be the same William Leonard Forster (b. 1841) who was the oldest son of James Forster (1811-1876) and Eliza Rankin (1816-1892) of Williamsburgh, Kings county, New York. Will was a 19 year-old clerk enumerated in his father’s household at the time of the 1860 US Census. His British-born father, who emigrated to the United States in 1839, earned a living as an upholsterer in New York City.

When the war began, Will joined the 13th New York State Militia and was mustered into Co. C as a private on 23 April 1861. The regiment was sent to Annapolis to secure that important naval yard and port and to guard the all important railroad line from that port to Washington D. C. In June they were sent to Baltimore and then mustered out after three months service in August 1861. Then, in late May 1862, William reenlisted and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant of Co. B, 47th New York Infantry. He mustered out the 47th on 23 July 1863.

See also—1861: Christopher Swezy to Noah T. Swezy

The political cartoon heading on Will’s letter entitled, “A Bird’s Eye View of the Great Southern Loan” with Jeff Davis exclaiming, “All we ask is to be let alone.”

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Carroll Hill, Baltimore, Maryland
June 17th 1861

You are perhaps surprised to find this letter headed Carroll Hill but such is the case. I received your letter last Wednesday afternoon at five o’clock but have not had time to answer until now and in fact I have not now time but have to sneak away from the camp to write this.

The reasons I have not answered before are first Thursday being election in Baltimore and all through Maryland so we were ordered to go up to Baltimore and we staid there until the next day when we returned home and reached there late in the afternoon too late to commence a letter to you.

Saturday I was put on guard so I could not write then. After coming off on Sunday morning, we were ordered to pack our knapsacks and be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We got into the cars at noon but did not start until four and reached Carroll Hill at eight p.m. and this morning I thought I would write and let you know why I could not write before and I wish I had time to answer your letter but as I have not, and besides have no facilities for doing so, I will wait until we get settled down and our tents pitched.

Just think of my laying down on my overcoat and my tin pan for a writing desk. Now if you can imagine anything more pleasant, why let me know.

I hope in my next letter I can tell you how to direct your letter but I could not say whether we will stay here or not. I hope we are. They intend to give us a taste of real camp life and not as we have had it. We had to lay down last night without anything over us and about half past eleven it commenced to pour and all scatt[er]ing I never see anything to beat it. You can imagine a thousand men scattering for the cars. It was a gay sight. I was pretty wey when I reached the cars and made my sleep very uncomfortable the balance of the night.

It is rumored about the camp that we will be sent home in about two weeks but how true it is, I could not say.

Lottie, I will have to stop as I got to get to work and as soon as we are settled, I will write again. So goodbye for the present. From your old friend, — Will Forster

Spared & Shared Podcast 4: Week ending June 12, 2026

Pip: There is a specific kind of intimacy that only survives because someone kept the envelope — a letter written on the march, or from a plantation on the Mississippi, or from a city coming apart at the seams.

Mara: That intimacy is what runs through this week's posts on Spared and Shared 23 — all of them brought to us by Griff. We're moving through Civil War soldiers writing home, family letters spanning decades, and one remarkable dispatch from the Confederacy's final collapse.

Pip: Let's start with the soldiers and the people waiting for them.

Soldiers' Letters, Home Front Voices

Mara: These posts place us inside the experience of men serving in the Union Army — what they ate, what they feared, who they missed — and beside the people on the home front trying to hold things together while they waited.

Pip: The anchor here is William Henry Mix, writing from opposite Fredericksburg in December 1862, and he opens with something that reads less like a war letter than a flirtatious dispatch from a man who has not forgotten how to be charming.

Mara: He sets the scene immediately. Describing a letter that arrived already opened, Mix writes: "Surely John must have called the morning and sent it off, and taking so many kisses from your dewey lips, there was not enough moisture left to dampen the mucilage."

Pip: And then, a few paragraphs later, the same letter turns. He describes Thanksgiving on the march — no turkey, no pudding — and writes that he saw "not the happy faces and manly forms of many brave fellows that were with us full of health and life one year ago. They have fought their last fight."

Mara: That pivot from wit to grief in a single letter is what makes it so striking. Mix survived Gettysburg and went on to serve in the United States Colored Troops — the full arc of his service is documented across three letters on the site.

Pip: Wakeman Young Andrews does not have Mix's gift for the light touch. His November 1862 letter to Colonel Palmer is a document of institutional chaos — sick men left behind, tents burned, orders nobody passed along — and ends with Andrews telling his commanding officer that a hernia and a hemorrhaging throat mean he cannot continue. He asks plainly for permission to go home.

Mara: The letter from Abel Hartley Comstock, writing from Fortress Monroe in April 1862, has a different register entirely — he cheerfully tells his cousin Mary he ran the picket line to visit a friend and "stood a good chance of getting shot in the operation, but nothing ventured, nothing had."

Pip: George Chauncey Peck writes from Seabrook Island, South Carolina, watching Confederate pickets on horseback from the treeline, and Augustus Norton writes from Lexington, Kentucky with something heavier — a creeping sense that the future has gone blank, that he may never return to Athens to live.

Mara: The Edmund Blackmar collection spans nine letters from Louisiana to the Shenandoah Valley. By July 1864, writing to his sister, he says he is "desirous of next January to bid adieu to the army and go to some place where I can live in peace and retirement and away from the sound of the bugle and drum."

Pip: Three years in, and the uniform had become something he viewed "only with abhorrence." That is a long way from the man who enlisted in January 1862.

Mara: Joseph Henry Capen's letter from April 1863 gives an almost hour-by-hour account of listening to the cannonading at the Siege of Washington, North Carolina, from a picket post miles away — anxious for news of the eight companies of his regiment inside the besieged town.

Pip: And Joseph Emmons Blanding, writing from winter quarters outside Washington in January 1862, describes log-and-mud huts with tent roofs, rabbit hunting in the woods, and a colonel who arrived as a religious man and ended up arrested for riding drunk across the parade ground. Blanding was wounded at Malvern Hill six months later and did not survive the year.

Mara: The range across these letters — from flirtation to grief, from bureaucratic fury to quiet despair — is the whole human weather of that war, one envelope at a time.

Pip: Which makes the letters that have nothing to do with the war feel, somehow, even more charged.

Letters Across Decades, Families Across Distance

Mara: The family correspondence segment opens much earlier and further south — with George Marble writing from Natchez, Mississippi, in 1836, describing cotton plantations, a flooding river, and a city he finds more alive than anything back in New Hampshire.

Pip: He writes to his cousin Judge Putnam with the breezy confidence of a man whose ambitions have outrun his means, and he signs off: "Martin Van Buren and Liberty!" — which is either a political toast or the most cheerful non-sequitur in the collection.

Mara: The McGill brothers' correspondence with Levin West spans from 1856 to 1865 — Charles writing from declining health, Robert from his desk at the Treasury Department, both watching the country fracture. By January 1861, Robert writes that he is "too old to fight, too old to run away, too old or too lazy to work," and wonders what is to be done.

Pip: And then there is Louisa Fairman, writing to her in-laws from Michigan in 1850, waiting for her husband Harry to come home from wherever he has gone — she does not know exactly when, but she says simply: "let me but get with him again, and I'll go where he goes after that."

Mara: That kind of patient, unguarded loyalty turns up in letters across every decade here. The distance between sender and recipient seems to clarify what matters.

Pip: Which is also what Charles Holst is writing through, though under very different circumstances.

One Letter From the Edge of Everything

Mara: Charles Holst was a Danish-born carriage maker in Chester, South Carolina, writing in March 1865 to the woman he intended to marry — and the world around him was in freefall.

Pip: Wheeler's cavalry had just passed through, and Holst catalogs what they took from his neighbors: mules by the dozen, silver buried in a graveyard, gold watches found later in soldiers' boots. These were Confederate troops robbing Confederate civilians.

Mara: He describes the scene in the letter directly: "We are in the most intense excitement. Wheeler's Cavalry of infamous fame — over 5,000 men and horses — have left us. In a letter I cannot describe the outrages and depredations they as Friends and Defenders done us and our people."

Pip: The phrase "Friends and Defenders" doing that much work is — something.

Mara: He goes on to describe Columbia in ruins, Charleston garrisoned by Black Union troops, the railroad torn up, and famine approaching. And through all of it, he is writing a love letter — telling Isabella Woodruff that he would go mad without the hope of seeing her again.

Pip: The war ends. The letter survives. That is the whole premise of this site, and this one earns it.


Mara: What holds all of this together is the specificity — a hernia, a flooded plantation, a colonel drunk on a parade horse, a graveyard with the silver gone.

Pip: The archive keeps the small things. Next time, more of them.

1836: George H. Marble to John Lyscom Putnam

How Judge John Lyscom Putnam might have looked in 1836 based on a sketch of him drawn several decades later.

The following letter was written by 23 year-old George H. Marble (1813-1843, the son of Antipas Marble (1766-1841) and Sally Putnam (1772-1826) of Cornish, Sullivan county, New Hampshire. George wrote the letter to his much older cousin, the Hon. John Lyscom Putnam (1792-1875) who served as an associate judge on the Sullivan county bench and was described as a “man of sound judgment and stern integrity.” Putnam was the son of Samuel Putnam (1768-1843) and Lois Lyscom (1766-1855) of Cornish. One of Judge Putnam’s son’s, born just after this letter was penned, was Haldiman Sumner Putnam (1836-1863) became a West Point graduate and served with honor in the Civil War as the Colonel of the 7th New Hampshire and was acting Brig. General in the storming of Fort Wagner on 18 July 1863 where he was instantly killed.

The letter reveals that George Marble owned a plantation near Natchez in the mid-1830s, yet his aspirations seem to have far exceeded what his achievements could support. As the youngest child in a large family, he did not inherit substantial wealth, and his resources were constrained. Absent George’s correspondence, it would have been difficult to conceive that he had left New Hampshire and traveled to the banks of the Mississippi River. No census, land records, or family histories document any endeavors on his part other than his untimely death from “consumption” (tuberculosis) in his hometown of Cornish in 1843, at the age of 30.

A store in Nashville (1836) by Auguste Hervieu (French, 1794-1858)

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Natchez, Adams county, Mississippi
June 12, 1836

Dear Coz,

I received your kind and highly interesting letter some few weeks since and am greatly oblige[d] to you for the same. I was sorry to hear that dear Aunt was so unwell and trust she has quite recovered ere this. I have no special news to write you but will merely say I am so well pleased with this delightful country that I think of remaining here until Dame fortune sees fit to shine upon me. You will undoubtedly think I shall be under the necessity of spending my days here, &c. My health is extremely good and I am of the opinion it will so continue through the summer. I have not been to Texas yet and since the war has so nearly terminated, have given up the idea. I wonder my Uncle Sol did not raise a company and start for Texas. If he had, I would have joined him and we would have immortalized ourselves together (behind the same stump). Remember me to Uncle [&] Aunt Sol & Polly Wellman. 1

The Mississippi River continues very high and the people talk much of being visited by the Yellow Fever so soon as it falls. The low land is completely covered and the lakes and swamps are full. It has not been so high since 1828 and when it falls, it leaves the swamps full of animal and vegetable comption [decomposition] which, being exposed to the sun, causes the deadly diseases to walk forth among we poor mortals and mow us down like grass before the scythe. But this country at present is as healthy as any on the Globe and I shall not budge until I see more sickness than I have yet.

Our little City of Natchez is improving more this season than it has for the last ten years. The spirit of improvement is going on worthy of its old and new inhabitants. We have recently settled an Episcopal Minister—the Rev. [David C.] Page, a very smart and talented man. I was obliged to hire a pew in order to obtain a seat. I pay thirty dollars a year (almost enough to pay the minister in Cornish). We have one Orthodox and one Methodist Church besides the Catholic Church (which we have not got) was burnt down in 1832 and has not been yet rebuilt. We have three banks, three Insurance Companies, [&] a number of quite large public buildings. Natchez is about as large as two like Windsor and more business done in one day than ever was done in Windsor since its first stone was laid.

I do admire to ride out and visit some of the cotton plantations, some fields containing one hundred acres and upwards, perfectly level, with 50 to an hundred negroes who work with as much discipline as a military company. People are not considered worth anything unless they have two and three hundred negroes—every negro worth 1200 dollars. But I shall be content when I possess fifty. Some of our planters’ crops amount to one hundred thousands a year and from that as low as five. My plantation was under water last year and I made no cotton of any consequence and am fearful I shall be served the same this [year], but I hope for the best and am prepared for the worst.

I am ten thousand times oblige[d] to Dear Uncle Sam [Putnam] for his short epistle and can afford to thank Ann about once for what she wrote. I trust I shall have the pleasure of receiving a long letter from yourself, Ann, Maria, and Uncle—all. How does my niece Miss Polly Adams Peories, Putter, Penelope, Penecete Underwood Marble—or whatever her name may be for I do not yet know. Ask her to write it down and forward it. Excuse the miserable scrawl and believe me your obedient servant, — Geo. H. Marble

[to] John L. Putnam

My respects to your Lady.

Tell my brother I wrote to him a few days since.

Martin Van Buren & Liberty!

1 George is referring to the Texas Revolution in 1835-36, and to his Uncle Solomon (“Sol”) Wellman (1758-1841), a veteran of the American Revolution, who was in his 70s at the time. Sol was married to Polly Putnam (1769-1848)—a sister of George’s mother. The Wellman’s lived in Cornish.

1862-64: Edmund A. Blackmar to Lemuel K. Blackmar

An AI generated image of Edmund based on a tiny post-war image of him on Ancestry.com

The following nine letters were written by Edmund A. Blackmar (1841-1873), the son of Joseph Blackmar (1788-1874) and Mahala Munyan (1797-1862) of Thompson, Windham county, Connecticut. Edmund enlisted in January 1862 to serve as a private in Co. E, 13th Connecticut Infantry. He was quickly promoted to corporal. On 21 May 1863 he was taken prisoner at Washington, Louisiana, but was quickly paroled, and mustered out on 6 January 1865 after three years service. After the war, he settled in Thompson where he became a merchant but died in 1873 at the age of 32. Military records generally spell his given name as “Edmond” but his signature and cemetery records spell it Edmund. He was married to Olive Salyes (1844-1916) after the war.

Edmund’s correspondence provides limited insight into the conflict in Louisiana; however, it reveals that despite his assertion that his “spirits remained high,” his enthusiasm for the war had significantly waned after three years of service. In his letter dated 12 July 1864, he expressed his eagerness to leave the army, stating he yearned for a place where he could live in peace and retirement, free from the cacophony of the bugle and drum, viewing the uniformed soldiers with a sense of disdain and abhorrence. He candidly remarked that he held little regard for the war itself. Additionally, it is noteworthy that he admired Gen. George B. McClellan, a surprising sentiment considering he had never served under his command. During his tenure with the regiment, they were deployed in Louisiana within the Department of the Gulf, and by 1864, they had become part of Gen. Sheridan’s Army of the Shenandoah.

Most of these letters were directed to Edmund’s older brother, Lemuel K. Blackmar (1819-1900) who was a miller in Thompson, Connecticut. Throughout his letters, Edmund enquires about his older brother William Blackmar who served in the 11th Connecticut Infantry, Co. G. William entered the service in November 1861 and was mustered out on 4 December 1864. He was wounded on 9 May 1864 at Swift’s Creek, Virginia. Like Edmund, he entered the service as a private and mustered out as a corporal.

Letter 1

New Orleans
August 21, 1862

Dear Sister,

I received your letter the 20th inst. and was glad to hear that you were all well after that cup of sorrow that was presented to your lips by the death of a loved and loving mother. Is it possible that I never shall behold her face again, never hear that voice which was never raised but for my good. To think that the grave must forever be her bed is more I fear than my nature can endure. She leaves behind her a son that mourns the loss of a kind and affectionate mother and one that will cherish the advice that she has ever given me. While she leaves behind her husband to mourn her loss, he must remember that she has ever fulfilled the duties of a wife and as a mother. But I fear it will be the means of bringing him to the grave; but tell him to be of good cheer. The day is not far distant when they will meet never to part again.

But I must bring my letter to a close hoping you will write as often as possible. Excuse the poor penmanship for I wrote it in a hurry.

Dear Niece, I am glad that you had not quite forgotten me and took pains to write. You say there is considerable excitement there on account of the supposition there that they are agoing to draft. But you must keep up good courage. It may be your father will not be drafted. I think that if the President gets his 600,000 men into the field, I shall be home by next April (if I ever do). I am well and hope this letter will find you the same. So goodbye for the present. Write soon and often.

Give my love to Lemuel & tell him to write us often as he can for I want to hear from him. This is from your brother, — E. A. Blackmar


Letter 2

Camp at Baton Rouge, La.
February 15th 1863

Dear Sister,

It is with considerable difficulty that I address your letter for I am sick in the hospital and my nerves are very unsteady. But I am in hopes ere many days I shall feel better.

I have no mother to care for me now—no one to speak words of comfort when you feel sad and lonely. No one knows the value of a mother until they are deprived of them. Little did I think when I left home ere one short year had passed away that I should lose a mother and sister. But it shows how very uncertain is life and how certain death comes when you least think of it.

But I must shorten my letter for my hand trembles so I guess you can’t read it. I hope next time I write that I shall feel better and can writes to that you can read it. Give my love to all the folks and tell Lemuel to write if he has time. So goodbye for the present. Believe me ever your brother, — Edmund A. Blackmar

Dear Mattie,

I will try and write a short answer to your letter which I received by the last mail, but am sorry that i can’t write a longer one to [you] but I hope that I may get better soon and then I will write you & Cally a long letter. I am glad you enjoyed yourself so well at your cousins but don’t think that a theatre is a good place for girls to go to. I should like o be there & hear you play on your new piano but don’t know how long it will be ere I should have a chance. But I must close hoping you will answer this as soon as convenient. From Ed. B.

Dear Cally, I am glad you took pains to write to me for I thought you had forgotten that you had such an uncle. I suppose you feel the loss of your mother greatly and well you may for there is no earthly friend that is so dear as a mother. Cally, be a good girl and remember the advice she has given you—you never will regret it. Give my respects to Wiliard and tell him I hope to see him soon. Often do I think of him. But I must close hoping you will answer this as soon as possible. From your uncle, — Edmund A. Blackmar


Letter 3

New Orleans [Louisiana]
June 27th 1863

Dear Brother,

As I have not heard from you in some time, I thought I would write & see whether you were all dead or alive. I have received several letters from home and they said they did not see you very often, but it may be you don’t get time as it is [a] rather busy time of the year up that way. Are you going to help Mr. Chandler cut his hay this year? And if you do, what pay do you get per day?

I only wish I was at home to help my poor father cut his hay for I am afraid that he will work himself sick & then there would be no one to care for him. How does he get along with his work? I should think he must be all behind unless he has hired considerable.

Do you ever hear anything from William? Alas, poor boy. Little thought he when he passed out from under his father’s roof to help put down this rebellion that it would be so long a time ere he should see the loved ones at home and then only to witness a home bereft of all its charms; to see a vacant seat by the fireside where once the pride of one’s home is and the guide to our future happiness.

Let us not dwell upon this subject. You know as well as me the loss of such a mother. May her life be an example to her whole household, or family.

I hear that the rebels have again invaded the soil of Pennsylvania and are doing considerable damage and yet the President dares not send the hero of this war [McClellan] to drive the invaders from our soil. Loudly do the returned soldiers call for their gallant leader to take command of them—but no, he is a Democrat and Old Abe sees pretty plainly that he is fast paving his way toward the seat he now occupies. And the three-year’s men will be at home to cast their vote for their beloved leader if they will only let them.

If they find Abe Lincoln in that office again, you can behold, if your life is spared, the broken fragments of a once glorious and prosperous Union (mark my word).

But I must close with an apology for the poor penmanship and hope I shall have something more than my lap to write on next time. Tell Mattie and Cally to write and your wife also. But she will write in your place for I don’t expect to get one from you. Give my regards to all and believe me ever your brother, — E. A. Blackmar


Letter 4

Thibodaux, Louisiana
October 8th, 1863

Dear Brother,

It has been some time since I have received a letter from you and thinking perhaps you are waiting for me to write, I will improve what few leisure moments I have at the present time in telling you how I am getting along a soldiering.

My health is very good at the present time and my greatest desire is that it may be spared to once more meet the ones I love at home. Yet life is so uncertain—especially in the army. At times I have seen those that appeared well in the morning and ere the sun set in the West, he was a lifeless corpse. Elijah N. Whitman was or had been sick for a few days when he was taken to the hospital and he was getting along so well that the steward of the hospital told him to report for duty in his company. This was at night he told him, before eating his supper, and in less than two hours he was dead. The exposures the soldier has to endure will break down the strongest man. And if I live to get home and they bring me another rebellion, they will have to put it down for all my helping them do it.

I had a letter from William the other day and he seemed to think that he should live to see home once more. Yet for all that, he may be mistaken. Mr. Plumber, he says, has married a Southern lady and is going to send her home to take care of the children. I think if she is able to take care of herself, she will do well and much better than the majority of the Southern ladies are in the habit of doing.

How does father get along with his farming and his housekeeper? You were not drafted. I believe Joe’s folks told me. But still you may yet. I am afraid that it could fall upon Joe for it would be just his luck. But I must bring my letter to a close, hoping I shall receive an answer in due time. Give my love to all of the folks and tell them to write often. Tell Mattie and Cally to write. I will not ask Margie for I think she will have to answer this.

Excuse bad writing for it was written in a hurry. Write often and believe me ever your brother, — Edmond A. Blackmar


Letter 5

Thibodaux, Louisiana
December 15, 1863

Dear Brother,

Yours of the 14th ult. came to hand a few days ago and the reason I have not written before is because I was waiting for the mail to be sent from the Express Office so to let you know that everything was all right and I have sent Joseph his bounty checks for him to get cashed and you can get your pay of him this time or wait about two or three weeks and then I shall send home more and I want you should take such interest as will pay you and if you can send 100 dollars more I can do well on it and I will give you greater interest than your money is now getting. And there is not much risk to run if you get it insured. I had to pay $6 on that package and I would like to have that money as soon as it could possibly be got here. For by the time it arrived, they would be rather short of [ ] and they would perhaps take less.

Direct your letters to Co. E, 13th Regt. Conn. Vols, New Orleans, La. That is sufficient.

I want you should tell Mattie and Luie to send their pictures that I may see how they have grown. I received a picture from Jane today of my anglel Mother and I could hardly make myself believe the sad truth that her form no more graced the old home as it was wont a few short months ago.

Brother, home has lost its charms for me. The only being that could make me happy at home has left us to give place (to what) another (God forbid). Rather let the old home moulder and decay and not leave a vestige of it remaining than to see my father married to another woman. But I will drop this subject for it makes me feel very unpleasant to dwell upon it.

I hope you will not be as tardy as you usually are about writing. Please send me the Providence Post or some paper to read. Give my respects to all and don’t forget in the meantime our aged father. Yours with respect and esteem, — Edmond A. Blackmar

to L. K. B


Letter 6

Headquarters of United States Forces
Thibodaux, Louisiana
January 23, [1864]

Dear Brother,

Your kind letter was received the 20th ult. and I found enclosed a receipt for a package of money you had sent. And to make myself doubly sure, I procured a pass and went over to New Orleans and I found a package for me said to contain 100 dollars. I paid $1.50 Express freight and took the money which is a much better way than to trust it to mail carriers.

My health is very good but I am sorely afflicted either sore eyes which is a thing I don’t admire much. I am sorry to hear that Willard B. Sumner has enlisted for he is naturally of so wild nature and if I am not much mistaken, he will plunge himself into all sorts of description which will virtually end in destroying all good morals (that is, if he ever had any) and make him unfit for any pursuit of life—even to the most humble one.

I can say for one that no ardent spirits of any kind has ever passed my lips since I have been in this army unless it was ordered by doctor. But how does things get along up in old Connecticut? Is everything prospering as usual? I presume there is quite a contrast between one of the New England States and one of the Southern for here the laborer has left all pursuits of life and have gone to war to try and see if they could not overthrow one of the best governments that the light of heaven ever shed its genial light upon. But their labors have not been crowned with success. After compelling all white male citizens between the ages of fourteen and sixty and they look now like savages than like the noble face they were represented to be in history. The circle is fast contracting and soon they will not have territory enough left them to form a line of battle.

But I must bring my letter to a close for I thin kI have written more than you will care to read unless it would be more interesting than what I think this will be to you. Give my respects to all my friends who feel themselves disposed to enquirer. I wish you would tell Mattie and Luie to send their pictures. I have got Emdinah & Ellen. If any of those checks are not good, tell J__ to send them back & I will procure another. Yours with respect, — Edmond A. Blackmar


Letter 7

Morganza
June 16, 1864

Dear Brother,

As it is some time since I have heard from you, I thought I would briefly write a few lines that you may know that I am well as usual. I wrote to you some two weeks ago; have you received it or not? I sent you either nine or ten bounty checks and not hearing from you, I supposed the Rebels had captured the boat that they were on as they captured some two or three boats with mails on.

When you receive this, I want you should answer it as soon as practicable. And if you have received them, I want you should lend me two hundred dollars if you can spare it—that is, if you have received those last checks I sent and if not, don’t send me but $100 unless you can spare more. For what little time I have got to I want to make it pay. I have only about seven months and fifteen days to stop.

The weather is exceedingly warm and the small pox is breaking out close by us. One of our company has got it and I don’t know whether he was left in Alexandrea in the hands of the Rebels or whether he was sent to Orleans.

Have you heard whether Wiliard was wounded or not? And if not, please give me his address. Someone told me they saw an account in the paper where the 11th Connecticut was badly cut up & they saw a list of the names of the killed and wounded and they said that one name they particularly noticed William Blackmar was wounded. Is that possible? And if correctly stated, not bad but slight. May it be the latter instead of the former, for I would hate to hear that he was wounded bad for a man that is sick or wounded cannot expect any care & will drag out a miserable existence until the stern messenger Death relieves him of his suffering.

I must bring my letter to a close hoping you will answer this in due season. Give my love to all the folks & tell them to write often. What are the folks doing up home? Tell father that I am well and in good spirits. Believing ever your brother, — Edmund A. Blackmar

To Lemuel K. Blackmar


Letter 8

Camp of the 13th Regt. Conn. Volunteers
Alyers [Algiers—opposite New Orleans, La.]
July 12, 1864

Dear Brother,

As I have a few leisure moments, I thought I would briefly answer your kind letter which was received the 8th inst. It found me enjoying good health although in a varied and unhealthy climate. I [was] much surprised to hear that William was at home on a furlough & even more so to hear that he was so fortunate as to receive such a slight wound. In all probability, the campain in Pennsylvania will be nearly ended. Mr. Plumb, I suppose, has received his just deserves. Wiliard—have you heard anything from him since those great battles in Virginia? I guess that Grant don’t find it so easy a task to take Richmond as he imagined (what do you think?). But I must bring my letter to a close for I have not much time. I must endeavor to answer Maggie and Mollie’s letter. I should think that the poor class of people would find it a difficult matter to earn enough to obtain a living & a scanty subsistence at that. But I must close hoping you will continue your correspondence. Believing me ever your brother, — Ed. Blackmar

Dear Sister, I have not much to write in answer to your brief but kind letter which I received the 8th ultimo. I am glad to answer to you that I am in good health and am desirous of next January to bid adieu to the army and go to some place where I can live in peace and retirement and away from the sound of the bugle and drum or anything that has any connection with the army for I despise the looks and view them only with abhorrence that wear a uniform. So you can perceive that I don’t think much of this war. But I must close my letter but endeavor to do better next time. I hope you will write as often as circumstances will admit. Yours with much respect, — E. A. Blackmar

Dear Niece, in reply to your kind letter I am sorry to say that I have not heard from you in some four months & I cannot well account for it. It may be because I have not written to you before. But that should be no excuse for circumstances would not admit of my writing before because I have been upon the march & had not an opportunity to wrote—only the answers to letters I received. I endeavor to do this promptly and with[out] any hesitation on my part. But let us hope that our correspondence will be kept up & if at any time I am not as prompt in my replies, believe that I am in a place where my position will not admit it. Give my love to all the folks and tell Cally to write. From your Uncle. — Edmund A. Blackmar


Letter 9

Addressed to Mr. Lemuel K. Blackmar, Thompson, Connecticut

Camp in the Shenandoah Valley
September 5, 1864

Dear Brother,

Thinking you would like to hear how I am getting along, I will take this opportunity while on picket to let you know that I find it not very easy soldiering in Virginia. We had not been here more than two hours before we were ordered to the front. The same night there was a pretty hard fight but our Corps were not engaged but were exposed to a fire from the enemy’s artillery But night put an end to battle. Our loss was great for the very reason we were the attacking party and had to assault their works. As soon as the firing ceased, we fell back and constructed some earthworks and are now acting on the defensive. 1

About midnight I was called up to go on picket & such picket duty you don’t often read about. We were stationed behind a wall &, after daylight, you could not show your head above the wall without being shot at. And not only one shot, but 6 volleys were fired at us.

September 7th. Our Brigade has gone out to feel the enemy but I guess they won’t have far to go before they will find them. The reason I did not go out with them, I was over to the 18th Regt. I saw John Buchanan, Tyler Bates, Silas Gifford and quite a number of other men that used to live out at or around Quaddick [CT].

What do the folks think of the nomination [by the Democrats] of Little Mac for President? He will not run well in the army since our recent victory in Atlanta. They say give them a few more men & they will make peace that will last. There is no dependence to be put in the soldiers. you tell James M___, but eventually something may present itself in the shape of a defeat that will make McClellan’s stock go up again.

I must bring my letter to a close hoping I shall hear from you in due season. Tell Mattie to write off that long [ ] f Mother [ ]. Tell all the folks I am well and am delighted to think they can’t hold me only about four months more. Tell M___ to write. Tell Mary I want to know whether she has seen her colt lately or not. Has Luis caught as large a string of fish as he did when I was there? Give my love to all the folks and believe me as ever your brother. — Edmund A. Blackmar

Excuse this poor display of penmanship for the facilities for writing are not of the best. Yours with much respect , — E. A. B.

Address Co. E, 13th Regt. Conn. Vols., 19th Army Corps, Washington D. C.

1 This engagement was fought on the road between Berryville and Winchester, Va.

1865: Charles Ferdinand Holst to Isabella Ann (Roberts) Woodruff

This image of Charles loosely based on a poor deathbed photograph of him in 1871.

This lengthy letter was written by Charles Ferdinand Holst (1813-1871), a native of Copenhagen, Denmark, who first married Ida Eliza “Jennette” Chabert (1810-1863) in the German Lutheran Church in Philadelphia. Pa. in July 1833. By 1840, Charles had relocated to Chester, South Carolina, where he was employed as a Master Carriage Maker. His original home in Chester stood at 116 Pinckney Street. After his wife died in June 1863, he began a courtship with Mrs. Isabella Ann (Roberts) Woodruff, the widow of Theophilus Woodruff, who lived in Abbeville, South Carolina. I don’t know the date of their marriage but it no doubt occurred sometime between the date of this letter in 1865 and January 1866.

Charles had at least five children by his first wife—Alvenia Otelia (b. 1834), Ida Eugenia (b. 1848), Charles Emile (b. 1850), Oscar Ferdinand (b. 1852), and Augustus O. (b. 1857). With Isabella, Charles had two more children, Wilhelmina Morton (b. 1866), and Theodore Russell (b. 1869).

Charles’ letters speaks of the devastation in South Carolina caused not only by Sherman’s 1865 campaign through the Carolinas but by Confederate cavalry and infantry who were forced to live off the land and who, frankly, robbed and stole objects of value from their own citizens.

[My thanks to Nancy Fink for preparing a first draft of this transcription. The letter is from the collection of Gregg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

T R A N S C R I P T I ON

Addressed to Mrs. Isabella A. Woodruff, Abbeville Court House, South Carolina

Chester [South Carolina]
5 March 1865 (Sunday)

My dear, previous loved one,

Again I must explain with the sufferer upon the cross, “O God, why has thou forsaken me?” At last and unexpected—for I had given up all idea of hearing from you for months to come—Mr. Burt placed in my hands your long dear letters of 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12th February. Came Monday 27th February, by what route or how, I cannot tell. From the beginning of our engagement I said physical pain can be endured [ ] & was found fault with. How is it now with you? My own state I can tell in a few words—Hunger, Thirst, Fatigue… I have suffered for nearly two months & O God, it is not only me suffering but I feel for you, my soul’s treasure is passing through the same ordeal & for causes beyond our control. A letter or language cannot tell what I feel or how I suffer. Difficulties fall to every man’s lot, but those that I and we now pass through are nearly beyond endurance—and for what? If God permits us ever to meet again, we then can unburthen our hearts and tell each other our love & sufferings. But my heart and head is now so full—thought crowds upon thought that I cannot tell you half what I want. This must be permitted by an all-wise Providence for some purpose, but in God’s Holy name, let the end come soon.

My dearest, if it were not for the hope that some day I may fold you in my arms as loving wife and as such, you by kindness will wipe out all this sorrow, I would go mad. As it is, I cannot think or act as I used to.

McDowell’s conduct is mysterious & absolutely mean. What can possess the woman? Has your coming to our house which she herself advised produced this change? or is it because she fools herself surrounded with difficulties that she must act mean towards you? May God have mercy upon her and her children.

You fear I “may be next.” My dearest Isabella, through God’s guidance…we learned to love each other, and each have pledged before God to be true to each other, and I now declare before High Heaven if there is honor, truth, and love in man, you and only you have all I can give the women I sincerely love. You say, “My heart is perhaps foolishly sensitive but God made it so.” Let it be sensitive. Do not fret and harass yourself about the love of a man who by his words & conduct has proved that he loves you above all things on earth. You wish to place your hand in mine and press your head upon my shoulder. I wish it more. I desire at this moment to hold you in my arms and impress a thousand kisses upon those pure lips that have never been polluted by other kisses.

You of course hear ten thousand rumors—some are true, but the most false. We have neither railroad communication, papers or mails. We are in perfect darkness. You no doubt have heard that Chester is burned to ashes which, thank God, is as yet not so. This has made much talk between myself and children as of course you would feel anxious for us. We know that Abbeville, both town and depot are safe. I shall do now as I done two Sundays ago, send in two envelopes to have a chance that at least one may reach you.

Joseph Wheeler, Confederate Cavalry

We are in the most intense excitement. [Joseph] Wheeler’s Cavalry of infamous fame—over 5,000 men & horses—have left us. In a letter I cannot describe the outrages & depredations they as Friends & Defenders done us & our people. [They] stole horses and mules everywhere. [In] my neighborhood, T. T. McLure lost 13 mules, E. C. McLure took all but one old mule, M. Douglas 18 mules, took corn and fodder by wagon loads and wasted it on the roads, Bacon & ch. News of course went [out and] people who had valuables buried had them dug up & lost. M. McDonald all his silver, two gold watches, and $4,000. Preacher White buried his silver in the graveyard—all gone. Now we can understand how those men got to have so many gold watches & spoons & silver forks in their boots—robbed the people!

Friday & Saturday came in 7,000 infantry, 20 pieces artillery, and some cavalry—all muddy and hungry. Our commissaries were destroyed—no rations for the men or horses. To our great annoyance, the men went from house to house asking for something to eat but unfortunately Wheeler’s men left us but very little to share with them. This morning I saw what I never have seen, thousands of dirty, worn out men as soldiers marching past our house to go to Charlotte, North Carolina by railroad to fight Sherman, but he is too smart for us. Gen. Johnston is now again in command so something may be done. If he had not been removed, Savannah, Charleston and Columbia would never have fallen into Yankee hands. But it is done. Charleston has been burned from North Carolina Railroad Depot & many lives lost by fire & explosion at Depot. Charleston is garrisoned by Negro troops. Oh God! What a humiliation.

Columbia is burned from Old Statehouse all through Main street to Cotton Town—54 blocks all in ashes. Our friend Mrs. Sarah Crawford who lived in the very last house is also burnt out. 15 houses in Winnsboro [are burned] so I fear Mrs. McN is also a sufferer. Our railroad from four miles above Winnsboro to Columbia is completely torn up. No travel on it for months to come. Your railroad from Belton may soon be finished but what shall we do? Dr. T. W. Campbell, where E. J. was, is burned out and he taken prisoner, so no use to think of him. In fact, all is confusion everywhere and there is one momentous evil which we all see—famine & starvation is staring us in the face. Wheeler’s Cavalry and now infantry by thousands have devastated the country. The Yankees have ruined Fairfield and part of Chester Dept. No mules or horses to cultivate the soil with. What are we to do?

Yankees were six miles from Chester & York, and to their disgrace, all the men run from Chester & York leaving their wives and children to chance. [They] can neither buy ornaments, flour, or meat. Abbeville has not been visited as we have, so with all your troubles, you are better off than we are at this moment. Of your personal safety, I have no fears. God will take care of you—of that I am certain. But where are you now? McDowell’s conduct is outrageous….[more personal correspondence]

May God throw his protecting arms around you are the prayers of your loving and affectionate husband before God, — C. Holst

It is Sunday, but utter confusion. Smiths are at work burning my coal and iron. Troops camping all around. Mr. Thorp appears to be a very cleaver man. He lives about a mile from Greenwood. The railroad agent knows him well. If possible, you see him. He can tell you all about our establishment. I put your name down on his memorandum book. When in Abbeville, he will call upon you if you are there & if you are not, would send $200 by him, but now it us useless to do so. He says soldiers are coming our way from his section as railroad to Columbia and above is ruined. they come on foot here to go to Virginia.

Do try all you can to send letters. I have done it & shall do again. The only possible way for you to come here is from Newberry by private conveyance. We do want you, but what will you get here? O! such a life to live. You say if I cannot support a wife, I cannot support a guest. This may be or not be. Dearest love, as much as I want you, it would be folly—yea wrong. to marry you now. You and I would be fools to do so now. We are now beginning to feel the real pressure of the war and then to drag the woman I love into such—no never!!! If you were my wife, well we would have to meet and bear it together & the burthen would be lightened for both. What would your Mother and friends say? That man must be crazy not to wait until prospects brighten.

In the other letter I stated that it is my wish that my daughters Alvena Dunlevy, Louisa & Eugenia should in the event of my death give to Mrs. Isabella A. Woodruff, my betrothed wife, my gold watch, Danish Cornelian Breast Pin made out of a $5 gold piece to make a gold ring inlaid with my hair & I add now my silver Pen___ & Gold Pen with which I have written hundreds of letters to her, signed by her betrothed husband, C. Hobst. Oh God, what anguish I have & do suffer. No tongue or pen can tell. I cannot write to your mother now. The Yankees are running trains from Charleston to Branchville and are repairing the track to Columbia. Whether they mean to hold Columbia and the people as real starvation is on them & soon will be there….

…when spring opens and roads in order, in God’s name come to me, shall leave no room for remarks about you, if there are any prospects & we will marry. I prefer death in any shape to live without you. Oh God, send us peace. — C. H.

1862: Abel Hartley Comstock to Mary D. Rozell

Abel’s letter was written on patriotic stationery

The following letter was written by Abel Hartley Comstock (1840-1926), the son of Isaac Dailey Comstock (1809-1900 and Eliza Rozell (1812-1879). He wrote the letter to his cousin, Mary D. Rozell.

Abel enlisted in Co. K of the 11th Pennsylvania Cavalry (108th Volunteers)—sometimes called “Harlan’s Light Cavalry.” He served from 31 August 1861 to 1 September 1864.

The 11th Pennsylvania Cavalry was ordered to Fortress Monroe, Virginia, in mid-November 1861 and they remained there on duty at nearby Camp Hamilton until May 1862. Comstock’s letter speaks of the arrival of infantry at Camp Hamilton as McClellan began his build up for launching the Peninsula Campaign.

Abel was a poor speller and I have corrected most of it so it could be read more easily but left a sentence or two spelled as he wrote it.

See also—1862: Pardon Edgar Covey to his cousin Mary

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Headquarters Fortess Monroe
April 9th 1862

Dear Cousin Mary,

It is with pleasure that I am seated to inform you that I am well at present and hope these few intended lines may reach you and find you enjoying the same blessing.

Well, Mary, I have not much to write today. I have not written to yo before so if I make any mistakes, don’t think hard of it for you know that I am a careless boy anyhow and always were. But I will try to do the best that I can.

Well, I guess that I will give you a little history of soldiering. I think that it is a hard life. Well here is some of it. You can guess at it for yourself. We took down our tents Sunday to march and it has rained ever since and we have laid on the ground so if you call that comfortable, then I have nothing more to say. But when the weather is fair again and the ground gets dry again and the wind is fair, we will march on with the army which is 150,000 strong. They are going to Richmond to make the rebels retreat or take a flogging if we don’t get defeated in it. And I hope that we will have good luck and take the remainder of Old Jeff’s army and ketch him so that he will make no more disturbensing whair for if I could git him I wold use his head for a wash dish until it began to leak and then fead it to the dogs.

Well, Mary, I will stop writing about war for I expect that you are tired of hearing it mentioned. So I will tell you of something else, I saw Lew Rozell Sunday and Emry. They were well and fat as fools and black as a nigger. They say that they like it first best with the exceptions of lying on the ground. Sam Lilly is with them. You can tell Lib that he is well and looks like the same old chap yet.

Pardon Covey and James Rozell are well and kicking yet. I believe Vink Covey is in the 52nd too but I did not see him. But he is well, so the Boys say. I had to run away to get to see Loran and had to run the picket guard to get there and stood a good chance of getting shot in the operation but nothing ventured, nothing had, so I tried it and got through.

So I will close for it is late so goodbye for the present. So write soon. From your affectionate [cousin] — A. H. Comstock

To Mary P. Rozell

M. D. Write soon. Give my best respects to all if they wish it but not without goodbye but not forever, for I think that I will see you again.

1862: Joseph Emmons Blanding to his Cousin

The following letter was written by Joseph Emmons Blanding (1841-1862), the son of Asa Blanding (1797-1861) and Caroline Mann (1807-1847) of Attleboro, Bristol county, Massachusetts. A carpenter by trade before the war, Joseph enlisted on 15 June 1861 to serve in Co. I, 7th Massachusetts Infantry. He was wounded on 1 July 1862 in the Battle of Malvern Hill and died two months later on 11 September 1862 [one report says from wounds, one from dysentery].

Joseph wrote the letter from the regiment’s winter quarters at Camp Brightwood outside Washington D. C.

The log house winter quarters of the 7th Massachusetts Infantry at Camp Brightwood in January 1862. [University of Delaware Digital Collections]

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

[Camp Brightwood] Washington [D. C.]
January 14, 1862

Dear Cousin,

I will try to write you a few lines just to tell you I am here and still in good health. I believe you wrote me last but I have not had many letters to answer and so I have got out of the way of writing much so you must try and excuse me.

I do not have much news to send that is interesting but I will give you a description of our winter quarters. They are four to a company, 28 and 34 feet long, and ten feet wide made of split logs 6 and 8 feet long set up in the ground endwise and the cracks filled up with mud that does not stand the weather very well and the top is made of our old tents sewed together and put on for a roof. We have a fire place in each of them and bunks to sleep in put up on one side so they make a great improvement on the tents and we have a good, comfortable time of it here.

I think if you had your health and truse [?] out here, you would enjoy yourself. There is good rabbit hunting out here and a few wild turkeys. I saw a man go by last Tuesday with three wild turkeys slung over his horse. He hot them in the woods where we go to stand guard every fortnight. Any quantity of coons and a few opossums here—rather better than it is over back of Stimpson’s. I guess you have cleaned them up before this.

By the way, I want to hear from you. I ave not heard from you or anything about you for ever so long. I am sure I wrote Frank last. Why don’t she write. Perhaps she has and I have not received it—at least I have not heard from her this longtime. Just tell her I should be happy to hear from her.

By the way, if you hear that I have been in the guard house, you must not be skeert, for it is a fact. They got me rather foul the other day. I was on guard on a cold day and our quarters were close to the guards so I just took a look in there to get war, and the Officer of the Day came around, turned out the guards, and J. E. B. was not there and so—chuck into the guard house he goes to wait for a court martial. It came off in a few days and they brought in a charge against me of disobedience of orders, found me (together with 13 others who were put in at the same time and for the same offense) guilty and fined me 6.50 dollars. Nothing like this miliary. they do play this thing up fine, I can tell you.

A day or two since we saw the Col. J[oseph] H[enry] Wheelock, colonel of the 7th, riding around the parade ground drunk as a fool for which he was arrested and finally excused from the command of the regiment so we have no colonel now. By the way, he come in a religious man and put every man he heard swear in the guard house. That was his style and you see how it turned out. 1

No room for any more so I must close with a good bye and write soon.

Your cousin, — Joseph E. Blanding


1 Colonel Joseph Henry Wheelock resigned, citing that his health was “too feeble to endure the hardships of camp life in this latitude and at his season of the year.” Wheelock would die in Washington in May. [Source: The civil War in the East]

1863: George Chauncey Peck to his Parents

The following letter was written by George Chauncey Peck (1830-1906), a carpenter by trade, and the son of William Peck (1803-1879) and Elizabeth Tolles (1803-1886) of Woodbridge, New Haven, Connecticut. He was also the husband of Betsey Eliza Perkins (1834-1935) with whom he married in 1853 and had two children at the time of his enlistment. Muster rolls reveal that George enlisted as a corporal in Co. A, 10th Connecticut Infantry, in August 1862. He mustered out as a sergeant on 7 October 1864.

The 10th Connecticut was one of Connecticut’s most successful civil war regiments, compiling an exemplary record of service in the Union Army. The 10th saw action in the coastal campaign during the early years of the war, which culminated with the siege of Charleston. The 10th went on to fight the trench battles of Richmond, earning praise from Union generals and Ulysses S. Grant. The 10th was active at the war’s very end, when they blocked Robert E. Lee’s attempt to escape from Virginia. And, the 10th was present at Appomattox Court House when Lee surrendered to Grant. All told, the 10th regiment fought in twenty-three battles and at least as many skirmishes. [Wikipedia]

In this letter of April 1863, George wrote from Seabrook Island off the coast of South Carolina where his regiment, with three others, were rotated off and on outpost and guard duty for nearly three months.

Betsey (Perkins) Peck and husband, George Chauncey Peck of Woodbridge, Connecticut

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

On picket at the Upper End Seabrook Island
April 28, [1863]

Dear Father and Mother,

You must not feel hard if I have not written before. I had intended to but it had not come so I could as I wanted to but now I have a little time by myself before dinner. I must give you a little account of our life in the woods.

To begin at the beginning, we are on one of the islands that line the coast of South Carolina. We are some 20 or 25 miles from Charleston. This island has one large plantation and the other house to match [illegible] by a Mr. Seabrook but he has deserted his house. We have a regiment here to do picket duty and came on over in three weeks and stay on 7 day. We are in sight of the rebel pickets. Can see them any time. They are all mounted and have very good horses. They are dressed in all sorts of cloth—some dark, some of the light, some have on felt hats and some caps (grey). They came down and fired at us—or they did the first day that we came out here. But since, they have kept rather shy. They saw our pickets. Some of the boys get up in trees to see more of them. Edgar [Giles] Smith was up in the tree and they shot at him but it went through the top of the tree above his head. I think he got down soon. Our Boys saw the fire and returned it soon and they were off sudden. Since the first day, they have not fired.

Our General sent out a flag-of-truce yesterday and we expect one in our lines today. It is about some letters from some prisoners that we took at Stono Island just above us. They can see Charleston from that island. They have fortified Charleston very strong and in order to take it, has got to be done with a large force if they do not do anything with the monitor and gunboats. But they are to do something with the gunboats. They are fitting out another expedition and it is soon to make a strike on Charleston. They could do more than they did before. Why they did not is a mystery to me. They claimed that they silenced Moultrie and breached Sumpter [Sumter] and done all they wanted to, but I think they have a good deal to do before Charleston is ours. But from what we are able to find out, they are making extensive preparation for the next grand attack. I hope that the next will be the one and the right one and that Sumpter and the forts will be ours and that Charleston will be burned to the ground. I have some matches saved for that purpose if I am permitted to go up there safe. We can’t find out much what is going on here—only that some movements are on foot. I find the men ready for the fight as ever and down on the Copperheads. (by the way, I see by the paper that they have placed you on the Police [?] list for this year.)

I am glad that Gov. Buckingham is our next governor and may he do as well as usual for us and take the same interest in our welfare. By the time this reaches you, you will be off to Legislation for I can’t tell when our mail will go. I have not heard from home since I left Fort Hamilton excepting a letter that came from there from Eliza. I am…

I had to stop for the dinner. You will want to know how we get along in this part of our duty. I will tell you. In the first place, we have our cook go with us of course. We take two camp kettles and carry our stuff with us and cook it then in the woods. We are some three miles from our camp in the woods. We have to make our tents of the leaves. We can use our tents for they would see where we are so they reason for using green boughs. We use the Palmetto leaves for our huts. Now about our meals, we have to carry it to the picket post. They are about 3/4 of a mile from our reserve on duty. They can’t have their post but one at a time, 4 men on a post, so we are on the reserve and have to carry it to them. Have been on the reserve all the time sergeant of the reserve. By the way, I forgot the carrying around the meals. We take the coffee in our camp better for we cook our salt junk in the same kettle we make the coffee and when we get it made, it is as black as a cat is—the water.

The way we get our water, we take a cracker box and dig down into the ground somewhere near where we want to cook, sink the box down, then the water comes in it. It’s not as good as rain water that you would catch at home but it is all that we can get and have to take that. I drink as little as I can but am dry sometimes. Then I chew a limb of some bark. We cook our salt junk and cut it up and put into a box and then go around with it. I have been with most of the timeserving it out to them so it goes from day to day til our time is out. We stay out 7 days, then another regiment comes out and takes our place. We have four regiments on this island now and our turn will come once in four weeks. But this is doing picket duty in cr___ for we see the rebel picket all the time and they see us also but they have not fired on us since the first day. They found out that the 10th Conn. Vols. is on, but as soon as any other comes, then firing.

It is some healthy here now but how long it will be so I can’t say. The men are in first rate spirits—ready for anything that duty calls them to do. We are waiting for something to be done somewhere. We do not get much news and therefore can’t tell much what is going on up North. I am very anxious to hear from home. By the way, what did you think of the pictures of your soldier son? I did not have time to write you anything and though they might speak for themself in some light—that is, if you have got them. I hope you have. I found Leonard well but not as fleshy as I was in hopes to. I am satisfied in my mind that he smokes too much for his good. He seemed glad to see me and I am sure [ ] glad to see him I landed at landing and I found him as soon as I could. Stayed all night with him and part of the next day. We were together and we did not let our tongue lay still, I tell you. It seems as if I had lived some 19 months in a very short time. We talked old matters over and it seemed as if I was ready to go and stay my three years out and say not one word. As for his troubles, he seemed to take it quite cool. I am satisfied in my own mind that he was a little careless but not enough to be served as they served him. He is like much in his company and in others and the captain said he was ready to do his duty at anytime. I don’t know that I think he may get it back again sometime. I hope so for [I] feel different about it than some.

I saw Lieut. Townsend but not the Captain. I suppose he will be mad at me for slighting him. I [ ] to but I was in a great hurry to get [ ] and did not have time to go back the second time. In fact, I did not care to see him. I have not much of an opinion of him. Make the best of him from all that I can learn. I seen the other boys and seen in particular. He is as natural as life and it did me good to see him. I saw him down at the landing first with John Hernes. Tey all were looking well and seemed glad to see me from they way they came around me, taking my going home and then back. I have seen and met with much that I shall long remember. I think if my life is spared any length of time, I am [in] hopes that the time will soon come that I can see the things in their own light. We have many rumors with us about this thing the same as it was with us last winter, but nothing that is to be believed.

I feel in my heart that the time is soon coming for a quick change and the most cheering news is from the North that there is a great interest manifested amongst the people in some places. Oh! that the people will feel that from God comes all good and that they are ready to lie low at His feet and call for help. If so, then we can hope fr help and only then. I feel the same now as when I first told you my feeling about my enlisting. I shall always feel that He who rules all things well, had these thing for our good and that when we as a Nation are sufficiently humble, then He will lift the load from our shoulder. I feel that I wsa called to go and to go in the way I did. It was not for money that I went but for the love of my country and for her I will die if it is God’s will. But I feel He has more work for me to do although it may be [ ] humble. I have my work to do and as soon as I got to the company, I found something to do to this one and that I am glad to say that I can see some change in some all ready….

Mother, I hope you will continue to remember us all (soldiers) in your daily supplication to God. I know you will. I feel it now. Hoping you will be spared till the end. I must close for this time to you. I shall write to Wales and Jennie soon. I hope you will answer this soon in a good long letter. I shall want to hear all that is going on. Remember me to all the friends, far and near, — Geo. C. Peck

1856-65: Charles McGill and Robert Tyler McGill to Levin West

These letters were written by Charles McGill (1792-1859) and his younger brother, Robert Tyler McGill (1795-1875). They were the sons of John McGill (1762-1827) and Elizabeth Belt (1763-1834). Charles and Robert lived very different lives. For 26 years, Charles was employed as a seaman in the merchant service, earning a reputation for nautical skills and for withstanding the severest privations and hardships. Once his entire crew fell victims to yellow fever in a foreign port. Once he was upon the ocean for days in a small boat, without food or drink, his ship having sunk and with it the earnings of his previous life. After many voyages, sometimes prosperous, but often of shipwreck or perilous disaster, he retired from a profession he had served so well about 1836, since which time he has resided in Georgetown, D. C. His later years were marked by declining health as is evident in these letters. He died at Berkeley Spring, Virginia, on 26 August 1859.

Robert, on the other hand, lived on the family farm in Prince George’s County, Maryland, until he took a job in 1825 as a clerk in the Treasury Department in Washington City, from which place he wrote many of the letters in this collection during the Civil War. His job at the Department was to settle the accounts of Navy agents.

All of the letters, either by Charles or Henry, were written to their relative, Levin West (1789-1863), or after his death on 18 June 1863, to Levin’s youngest daughter Susan (1841-1937). Levin had a farm in Petersville, Frederick county, Maryland. At the time of the 1850 US Census, Levin owned seven slaves ranging in age from 3 to 40. In 1860, he owned 9 slaves ranging in age from 8 to 60. Levin’s home in Petersville was a stone structure constructed in the Federal style with later additions in brick. It was built in 1815 and still stands today as a historic site.

It is challenging to discover letters penned by gentlemen whose lifespans coincided with the emergence of the new Nation, one of whom witnessed its fragmentation.

The Treasury Building in Washington D. C. where Robert Tyler McGill worked in 1860.

Letter 1

3d May 1856

Dear Levin,

We received your favor of the 1st inst. and were truly shocked at the sad news. To say that we sympathize with poor Patrick and you all are natural words & too weak to express our feelings for our dear friends. Death, my dear sir, is constantly making inroads upon our affections and warning us in most emphatic language, “Be ye also ready.” I wish for the power to console, but time and a higher power can only give that.

I will annex a sort of drawing with some directions which I hope you will be able to understand of the “corn coverer,” but it is more than I can now for I, this moment more than ever, wish for some of your mechanical genius that I might plan better and sometimes execute too. I am in a hurry for you to get this, hence my writing—always bad—but now worse. I hope you can read it. Do make our united and kindest regards to your family all and all friends.

The extreme severity of the winter did us much damage in loss of fruit & vegetables & flowers too. I fear we shall not have a peach, but I hope a plenty of apples, pears, plums and grapes. Believe me now as always yours truly & affectionately, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 2

Georgetown
April 2, 1857

Dear Levin,

Your very kind and acceptable letter of the 2nd February is now before me and really I feel ashamed that I have not answered it before. But let me assure you I have thought nonetheless of you or your dear family, and all our relations on the tract. I have been and am now suffering with a severe cold but I hope when warm weather sets in I shall feel better. I am now happy. Godliness is great riches, provided we can learn to be content with what we have. I suppose by this time you have finished fallowing your land for corn. I wonder if you are as industrious as you were when I was with you. I suppose you are. I saw Cousin Patrick and cousin Belt when they were down, and it was then, Levin, I felt the want of a house and home of my own that I could have entertained my cousins and return the kind hospitality in some measure that I received fro them and all my dear relations. I was glad to see them looking so well. I regret cousin Belt could not sell his horses in Georgetown. When I called to see him last, he had left about one hour [previous] for Baltimore. I do not know when I was more surprised—particularly when he told me he would stay a few days longer and endeavor to sell his horses. They were really fine horses and I was in hopes he would have met with a ready sale. But as he made up his mind to go, I hope he was enabled to get a ready sale and better proce in Baltimore. I was truly glad to see them both and hear from you all and that you were well.

Robert McGill lives in Washington and is looking very well and happy and rejoicing at having sold at the time we did and I am pleased, gratified, and happy to know that he is happy and contented. We have lived as brothers should live and I hope it will remain so. Not a wish of is but what I would gratify, and I am sure he has the same feeling towards me. We lived on a farm together and we never had one unkind word or ill feeling towards each other, and sincerely do I return my thanks to my blessed Redeemer for it. I should like to hear how cousin Clara Belt has got [along]. I hope she may yet live to enjoy good health. Levin, please present my kind regards to her. I often pray, if the will our Blessed Savior, her restoration to health. I hope to live to see you all again sometime this year. I am afraid if I go too often, I may wear my welcome out and I am now in the situation without a home of my own to return the hospitality of my dear friends and relations.

Levin, I love you all and I hope and have no fear but it will last to my journey’s end in this world. Robert seems very anxious to pay you all a visit but when, I cannot say. We often talk of you all and oh! how often do I think of my happy visit to you. And may God reward you all, my dear cousins, for your kindness. Cousin Ella Page has not sent her little babe down to me yet to take care of and nurse but I suppose she is afraid to trust me. Farewell Levin. Love to cousin Eliza, and every member of your family. And also to one and all my cousins on the tract, and believe me ever your affectionate friend and relative, — Charles McGill

P. S. Please write soon and I will promise to be more punctual in future.


Letter 3

Washington City
Tuesday, 14 July 1857

Dear Levin,

My brother [Charles] and myself contemplate leaving here this day week the 21st at 6 a.m., arriving at Knoxville [Frederick Co., Maryland], I suppose, about 12 o’clock, when, if entirely convenient to yourself and family, of which I trust you will let me know immediately, I will stop some days with you and see other friends before I proceed farther in Virginia to Berkley, &c. &c. provided you can with convenience send for, or meet, me at Knoxville that day.

My Brother, I think, will write this day to Lloyd Thomas, probably saying he will go to his house. But for myself, my last, mostly to you and yours, was made so pleasant and agreeable by you all that I am now tempted to repeat it, believing I shall again meet the same warm & welcome reception. My kind regards to your family and friends all, and believe me as ever yours truly and sincerely, — Robert T. McGill


Letter 4

Georgetown, District of Columbia
Thursday, December 24th 1857

Dear Levin.

Your letter of the 19th inst. I have but this moment received owing to the oversight of the postmaster—a worthy but inform man. Therefore we have sometimes to put up with great inconvenience and often losses by not receiving a letter in due time. I now return you thanks for writing. I could not imagine why I did not hear from you but not for a moment did I attribute it to any unkindness. In fact, Levin, I am more to blame than you are. I think in my letter to you I promised to write as soon as I could ascertain what and where the extent of suspensions and depreciation of currency and the monetary crisis. It will be some time yet before confidence can be restored between man and man, however good and secure they may be. I cannot yet say how it will be with me until January dividends roll round and see how they are paid up. At the present time, the prospects are good and I hope may continue. I never wish to look upon the dark side, sufficient unto the day, the evil thereof.

I thank you dear Levin for your kind and polite invitation to spend Christmas with you and your dear family, but I am sorry it will be out of my power to do so at present as it will require my attention here until after at least the 14th of January. I shall see Robert tomorrow and let him know the purport of your letter. I know he is similarly situated with myself and impossible to leave at this time.

I am truly happy to hear of your good health and family. And all friends and relatives. I can never forget the hospitality and kindness shown me by yourself, family, and all my relatives while with you. I am glad to hear cousin Bettie Clagett is well and her little baby which was a dear sweet little thing. Levin, you cannot imagine the pleasure I took in visiting cousin and Mr. Clagett—to see them so happy and comfortable—apparently without a care or trouble in this world. Oh how I do love to visit families where peace and quiet, love and happiness exists. I can then enjoy so much everything around me. You did not say you expected cousin Mollie and Belt to spent the Christmas with you but I suppose they will [and] to have your children and grandchildren with you on such an occasion. I do not, Levin, envy your happiness for it makes me feel happy to know that you and cousin Eliza will be. I shall imagine I see you all on that day tomorrow and often shall I think of you.

How is my cousin Patrick? I hope he is well. Did he hold out or give out during seeding time? I think I know the field where you had so much work and hard labor to prepare for seeding—the field opposite the barn where you had potatoes. I do not think a much worse field could be found to put in order for wheat; so I thought at the time. I believe if perseverance and hard labor would accomplish anything, it was bound to be done, and I am glad to hear of your success.

I heard from sister Tyler yesterday. She is well and when I write again, I shall send her your kind remembrance. Now Levin, farewell and may God’s blessing be with you all now and forever. Love to cousin Eliza and all my dear cousins, and friends on the Maryland Tract. I wish you all my dear cousins, a pleasant Christmas, a Happy New Year, and many returns. Believe me sincerely your affectionate friend and relative, — Charles McGill

P. S. Levin. write soon. It gives me pleasure and happiness to hear from you.


Letter 5

Berkeley Springs [Virginia]
August 11th 1858

Dear Levin,

I wrote you a few lines to let you know that I am now here at last on my way home. We left Washington City July 15th 1858. From thence we went to Baltimore, got breakfast, proceeded to Harrisburg, spent a short time there, then to Carlisle in Cumberland county, Pa., and visited the Carlisle Springs, and Mount Holly Springs in that neighborhood. From there we went to Chambersburg, spent a day and night, then left for Bedford Springs—a long tedious ride in the stage. Stayed a fortnight, took a private conveyance over to Cumberland, spent four days in that place, and am now here on my way home.

I have gone through many scenes and knocked about a great deal trying if possible to regain my health. May I hope I have succeeded. I was traveling for health—not for pleasure. I am in hopes I met with both.

The particulars of Robert’s and my journey I will give when we meet, it is will interest you and your dear family. You shall hear it all as I will never—if I am spared—undertake such a fatiguing journey again. But as I am now through safely and feel so much better, I am rejoiced I undertook it. Now Levin, ig Fod’s willing, we intend leaving here next Monday morning the 16th August, dine at Harpers Ferry, be at Knoxville, at what hour, you will know better than I can. Therefore, Levin, Robert and myself will be indebted to you for a conveyance from Knoxville to your house. I would write you the particulars of our journey but as we are to meet so soon, I will wait until that time. Robert is well and sends much love to you all; and all relatives and friends. Farewell to you all; with love to all; and believe me ever your sincere, affectionate relation, — Charles McGill

Berkeley Springs
August 11th 1857 [1858]

Be at Knoxville Monday, August 16th, 1858

Levin West, Esq., Petersville, Maryland


Letter 6

Georgetown, D. C.
March 18th 1859

Dear Levin,

It appears like a long time since I have had the pleasure of hearing from you directly. But do not think I have forgotten you for I assure you, not a day passes over without my thinking of you and your dear, kind and affectionate family.

Levin, I find I am fast failing in health and strength, so much so when I look back, I can scarcely believe I am the same person. But God’s will be done. I hope I may be prepared to leave whenever it pleases God to call me. I have very little left to tie me to this world except to prepare to meet with my Savior where I hope to meet with you and all my dear friends. My health has been bad all winter. The season of Lent has rolled round upon us once more and blessed be God, I am yet able to attend church in the day at least. Oh Levin, what a comfort to me that I can and am able to get to church twice a day. I have not been out of the house after sunset since October last.

I saw Robert yesterday. I told him I intended to write you today. He sends his love to you all and begs me to say to you e hopes soon to get through with your land warrant as everything goes by turns. He thinks they [will] be able to take up yours in about ten days. He feels now pretty sure he will get it through and send it on by mail to you.

Levin, many have been the changes with you since I was with you last. The old settlers passing off, and property getting into other hands. I sometimes feel a little sad when I look back and see how completely the neighborhood is broken up.

Cousin Eliza [McGill] Bradley departed this life on the 12th inst. and Levin, if ever there was a Christian and a sincere one left this world, she was one. No one could say too much in her praise. I never saw a more lovely corpse in my life. Her loss among the Christian community will be severely felt. Her whole study seemed wrapped in doing good. It may be truly said this world had no charms for her—at least none others than doing all the good she could. But Levin, she is now surely in Heaven with her Savior, awaiting for all her Christian friends. Why should her death make her friends sad when they know she is now happy? We can only say farewell, dear happy Christian. I heard from her sister Tyler a few days ago. She is as well as could be expected at her time of life. 1

Levin, this is a very uninteresting letter but I thought I would write for fear you might forget me. Now dear Levin, farewell. Love to cousin Eliza and all your dear family as well as to all my dear relatives. Write soon and believe me ever your sincere friend and relation, — Charles McGill

1 Eliza McGill (Thomas) Bradley (1834-1859) was the daughter of John McGill Thomas (1800-1834) and Harriet Margaret Dunlop Thomas Lufborough (1809-1886). She was the wife of Joseph Habersham Bradley, Jr. (1831-1874). She was buried at Oak Hill Cemetery in Washington D. C. Eliza’s husband bore a “remarkable resemblance to John Wilkes Booth and on April 15, 1865, the night after the tragic event in Ford’s Theater, he was driving home in his buggy along a lonely road when he was held up by policemen and arrested. When he protested, he was told that he was John Wilkes Booth and was taken to jail. He insisted he was not, but to no avail. After a good while he got in touch with friends who identified him and he was released and went home.[Source: Find-A-Grave]


Letter 7

Georgetown, D. C.
June 6th 1859

Dear Levin,

Your letter of the 27th of April is now before me and am sorry to say unanswered to this late date, but I assure you, Levin, I thought of you and all your family daily and have said to myself day after day, well tomorrow I will answer Levin’s letter.

I have not been well all winter, and spring I have not been out of the house after sundown since October last; but I am very thankful that it is no worse. I put my faith and trust in my blessed Redeemer and bow with submission to His will, and never feel unhappy if possible under any circumstances; keep clear of all excitement upon any subject, particularly when I find the person I am conversing with or myself becoming so, for every word spoken after that only serves to make it worse and worse, and engenders ill feelings and I thank God I do not harbor any ill feelings against that person living. But some I want to have as little to do with possible, and pity them for their faults and pray for them too. 1

I was glad to find from your letter that crops in your section were so favorable, and indeed they are yet from all directions. And also to hear you bid fair to have a good peach crop. I have never in my life taken or felt more interest in the success of farmers than I do at the present time. The whole country—or indeed the whole world—is dependent upon them. Therefore, Levin, they shall have my prayers for good crops and good prices, and I think at present there is a fine prospect for both. The European war must keep up everything very high no matter how great the crop, for it looks likely that all Europe will become involved. What money to be wasted, and lives to be destroyed, to gratify ambition, and all to keep the balance of power, jealous of each other. I suppose we shall hear of some great battle soon. 2

I will now talk to you of something more agreeable to my feelings. You say Patrick and yourself were about enclosing your yard. Oh, I do wish I could have beeb up there to superintend and give my counsel and advice. No doubt you would have finished quicker, but you might have hurt yourselves—particularly when I would only go so far to look after you, sitting on piazza in the shade all the time. But oh! Levin, it was cruel in you to make Bob’s mouth and mine water at the mention of Bonny Clabber [curdled sour milk]. I believe ut made me sick at the idea of not being able to enjoy it with you. I wish you would enclose a plate full when you write. Bob begs me while you are about that; you must send him two gallons in a separate letter. Levin, I do not envy you it, but I do wish I had some. I think it would fatten me up and I should feel better.

I often think of you all and the happy time and kindness we received from your dear family and self, and all our dear relatives. It was a time, and as long as life lasts, will never be forgotten by Robert or myself. We seldom meet but what we talk of it and thank you all for the kindness we received. Levin, I assure you that goes a great way to make me feel happy. I do not know what rout Bob intends to take this year. If we are well and able, and if possible, we will try to pay you a visit, and all our friends once more at least. As I find my health and strength failing me fast, God’s will be done. I do not expect we shall leave home until about the middle of July. We did expect to pay sister Tyler a visit about this time, but Mr. Tyler is repairing & painting house which he says will take him seven weeks and the smell of paint in a confined room makes me sick. Love to all, cousin Eliza, and every member of your dear family, and all my relations. Believe me as ever, dear Levin, your affectionate friend and relative, — Charles McGill

1 Charles appears purposely vague but I believe he is referring to the rising sectional crisis in America.

2 The European war Charles refers to was the Second Italian War of Independence (also known as the Austro-French-Piedmontese War) fought between April and July 1859. The Battle of Solferino was the climatic battle of that war, fought on 24 June 1859.


Letter 8

Washington City, D. C.
13th July 1859

Dear Levin,

I saw yesterday your kind letter of the 11th inst. to my brother [Charles] and regret to say it found him quite sick in bed. He is now much better & his doctor says he will be up and out in a few days. If so, we hope to leave here next week for our trip to the mountains of Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Maryland, and hope o be able to visit you—not sooner, however, than September. The exact time we will inform you of from Virginia. But Levin, my brother’s health is extremely delicate—a great and rapid prostration, I fear, of the system. From once a herculean constitution, as you know, he is now but a shadow—just what we might have expected from his 27 years great exposure on the ocean wave. My own health never was better but I must go with, be with, and remain with my brother, for Levin, we are both going down hill of life and as Burns beautifully expresses it, “Still hand in hand we will go. And sleep together at the foot.”

The weather is oppressively war here now. Our town is very dull. The school examinations, the picnics, &c. are all over. Politicians have all apparently retired to some secret corner to get ready, stretch and smooth the wires for the great political race of next year.

I am happy that the Agriculturists generally have at length, this year, been blessed with bountiful crops. I never have here seen vegetables so fine, so abundant, and so cheap.

Do remember us kindly and affectionately to your family each & to all enquiring friends and believe me as always yours truly and sincerely, — Robert. T. McGill


Letter 9

Jordon [ ] Springs, Virginia
Monday, August 20th 1860

Dear Levin,

Here I am after more than a month roaming, first on the bayshore and then to the mountains of Virginia and though I have seen much to interest me, and had placed before me the most tempting viands, still I begin now to long for a more home feeling and to be with those who are nearer and dearer to me. With that view, I will name the coming Saturday, the 25th inst. to be at Knoxville [Maryland] after dining early at the [Harper’s] Ferry. Can you make it convenient to meet or send for me there? You know the hour. I will defer much. I could and would say till we meet, I trust on Saturday evening.

Remember me very kindly to each and every member of your family and to all friends and believe as ever yours truly and sincerely, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 10

Washington City, D. C.
Monday, 1st October 1860

My dear friend,

“Home again.” Yes. even I as solitary as I may be, that word home has charms to me that I trust may never be obliterated. This cold, dreary, rainy Autumnal day, my room made cheerful by a bright hickory fire, and more so by holding sweet converse with dear absent friends, is among the charms. And I can now say truly with one wiser than we, “To know God and to possess a satisfied and grateful heart are among the richest possessions we can enjoy in this world.” I think I am satisfied. I know I am grateful. But I commenced this chiefly to express that gratitude in part, only as I can, to you and each of your dear family, to whom you may show this, for having added so much to those pleasures I enjoyed the last two months.

To this I will add that since my return, I have heard more favorable news from my dear, only, sister and found all my friends better and doing better than I anticipated.

The great Political race is near at hand. I do not think much of either nag, and if the grand Union course can be kept clear of foul weeds and briars, I care but little which horse wins. I still think & hope it will be decided here next winter as it is our only chance to keep out Sour Crout & lasses id-est Old Abe. 1

Fewer improvements have been made here than usual the past summer owing to the uncertainty of things alluded to above. Even the public [infrastructure] improvements drag on slowly. Confidence—confidence is wanting I fear. The Great I am I trust will watch over and guide us safely.

Lord Renfrew is expected this week. A great fuss at the White House there will be. I doubt if I see him. I shall follow no eager throng to do so. I dislike them as I do man worship. 2

Remember me with much affection to each and every one of your dear family and believe me as always yours truly and sincerely, — Robt. T. McGill

P. S. If or when you have anything of interest, will you answer this and oblige? — R. T. M.

1 I’m not certain what Robert is saying here. The sauerkraut reference is a stumper. The pickled cabbage was known to be one of President James Buchanon’s favorite dishes but he was a lame duck and not on the ticket in the 1860 Election. Had it been rumored that the ill-bred, Kentucky-born Lincoln ate “sauerkraut and molasses?”

2” Lord Renfew” was the incognito alias used by the 19-year-old Prince of Wales (who later became King Edward VII) during his historic tour of North America. To avoid diplomatic protocol complications and intense press scrutiny, he traveled as “Lord Baron Renfrew” while visiting the United States.


Letter 11

Washington City, D. C.
9th January 1861

Dear Levin,

Since the receipt of your favor of the 1st inst., I have hoped daily to see and hear something of and from the political elements that would be more cheering for you to hear or me to write, but alas! hope in man, even our counsellors, and legislators, I fear is fast dying out & things are looking more and more gloomy. In the morning, a bright clear speck may be seen in the distance on the political horizon; at noon, it is clouded over; and at night all is dark and a storm rages. And so it has been since 1st December. The Administration, at first slow and lethargic, I fear now is disposed to be precipitate and rash. A medium course in all things, I always advocated. Cautious, but firm and decided.

I much fear, Levin, this eternal hatred & warfare against slavery by the North has determined them never to recognize property in slaves. [Anything] less than that, I think the South will not submit to. “Quere” —which is right or how is it to be settled? Why you and I would say by compromise. Indeed, on Monday morning the plan, having in view that object, of Senator Crittenden & urged by the Border State Committee (which you no doubt have seen) was thought to be full, fair, and completely acceptable to all parties North and South for or by that compromise, but now it appears not. The North seems to maintain a sullen silence, will do nothing, suggest nor advocate anything conciliatory. What is to be done?

I sometimes fear the South are determined that Mr. Lincoln shall not be inaugurated. I think such a course wrong & must lead to anarchy & bloodshed. From such we can only say, “Spare us, good Lord, spare the people, and let not this heritage be brought to confusion.” But I must stop on this subject. I may have said too much or said and written it too badly to be interesting to you.

You can form no idea how seriously these times affects everything here. You in the country, rural districts, are happy in being strangers to it. Every day appears almost like a Sabbath—property and stocks of all kinds sadly depreciated. No debts paid or collected. Business men would all be broken in a week but for forbearance. Nothing like the usual gay, cheerful, society will appear here in our midst this winter. Thus far my health is excellent & just enough paying stocks to keep me from debt. Cash in hand to last me till warm weather & then, if times are not better, be not surprised if Barleywood should receive one idler among its industrious household to help you to consume that great crop of corn, together with, I trust then, a good supply of Clabber.

The fact is, Levin, I am too old to fight, too old to run away, too old or too lazy—you may say which—to work. So I think I am in a quandary which, when necessary, I will call upon you as Hercules to help me out of. I need not tell you amidst it all, I am trying to keep my spirits up. By the way, I have just had sent me a gallon of the finest Crab Apple Cider I ever saw. Oh! how I wish you were here this moment to take a glass with me. As it is, I will (in a bumper) drink health, happiness, and prosperity in the New Year and always to you and all your dear household, to each and everyone, be pleased to remember me most kindly and affectionately to, and believe me as always truly your friend. — Robt. T. McGill

P. S. I give you good measure, all deficiencies in quality is made good in quantity.


Letter 12

Washington City, D. C.
16th May 1861

My dear friend,

Since I last wrote to you, the aspect of affairs has so changed and O! how lamentably changed in and for the best interests of our once happy, prosperous and honored country? How, when and where the madness that seems to be everywhere stalking through the land is to be stopped, His wisest (as yet) appear unable to say. Having always had a great respect for & a high confidence in your opinions and judgment, I write now to ask for your full and unbiased views of the state of things as they now exist and who are culpable for precipitating us into what seems now seriously to threaten us. Oh! most horrid even to mention a Civil war. My heart sickens at the thought.

Of late it appears you have had so much excitement at Harpers Ferry & your immediate neighborhood that I am the more anxious to hear from you all and what part, if any, you have taken in the scenes conducted around and near you. I sometimes fear that in my last letter to you, I expressed my views & feelings too freely but I am unwilling yet to believe that we differ materially as to how our beloved, good old state should have acted. I may err as we are all liable to, but I never thought that the remedy for ills complained of was in secession & much less so in a Civil war. If we do not or cannot agree in opinion, I beseech you not to let an honest difference alienate us as friends & relatives.

I perceive your old time honored courthouse was burned down recently. What good did the Legislature that met lately in your midst do, and what more will they do by meeting there again the 4th of June?

Our city wears all the appearance of a great military encampment on the eve of battle with near 40,000 soldiers and a daily parade of 5 or 10,000 with a dozen full bands of music does not now create more stir than a corporal’s guard with a drum & fife would have done a year ago—so easily does human nature become accustomed to any and all changes. I learn there are near 1,000 head of beef cattle in and near here together with I suppose 20 vessel loads of provisions. O the horrors of even an imaginary necessity for such a state of things.

The worst feature in all this is the total prostration of business, property of all kinds, and no employment to be had; much suffering must be the result & that soon & to some who a year ago thought themselves comparatively independent, I regret to say among them I have here some valued friends.

When you write, do let me know all about P. McGill, your son,s, and all our relatives. Remember me very affectionately to each and every member of your family and to all friends near you and believe me always yours, truly and sincerely, — Robt. T. McGill

P. S. I have this moment eard from Mr. T & my sister. They are well. My own health never was better and I try and keep up my spirits by having my jokes among the Yankee Soldiery, &c. — R. T. M


Letter 13

Washington City, D. C.
12th November 1862

Dear Levin,

I was absent when your letter of the 5th inst. reached here, as Mr. Clagett may have told you. I did not get back till Monday night. Yesterday I exerted myself every way to get some reliable information on the subject of your letter to communicate. Late last night I visited a lawyer who is well acquainted and somewhat interested in the subject who told me positively that at the last session of Congress, no bill did pass touching your case. Such a bill was reported and passed one house only, except one prepared to meet an isolated case in Missouri. He said such a bill as you allude to will certainly pass this coming winter and advises in the meantime that you procure and retain all the affidavits you can relative to your loss, and if you can et any such from any of the officers who witnessed the depredations, it would very much strengthen your claim.

I think during the winter, F. Thomas could & would keep you posted on the subject. I will myself keep a look out and do any and everything I can to aid you. Like yourself (from losses in stock, &c.) I had too to go to work again and now have scarce a leisure moment from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m., my dinner hour. I am thankful, however, to be able to say that my health was never better. Most ardently do I (with you) wish that something could be done to put a stop to this most unnatural and wicked waste of life, blood and treasure.

I have not seen my only sister for more than a year. I however very often write to and hear from her. She too is in good health for her age, for like yourself, she is past her three score and ten.

Now Levin, I must beg you to remember me kindly and affectionately to your family all and to each relative I have near you. I desire sincerely to look upon you all still as near and dear relatives and friends, and although we may never meet again in this wicked world, let us look forward to that happy land, and pray, as I do, that we may all finally meet there, where there will be no wars or rumors of wars. Truly your friend, &c, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 14

Washington City, D. C.
18th November 1862

Dear Levin,

Your two letters (in one) of the 9th and 10th inst. are before me. It was early in the morning of the 8th I saw Mr. Clagett at Bladensburgh. He told me you had written to me. I had left here the evening before on the way to Baltimore and other places on business and did not get back till Monday night when I received your letter of the 5th. All the spare time I had on Tuesday I was seeking the information you desired and wrote you of all I could the next day of the 12th.

I trust you received it for you will perceive I received and answered your letter as early as it was possible to do so. For fear, however, you did not get it, I will briefly say that the Act of Congress you refer to only passed one house last winter, but will be acted on in both houses & become a law this winter, it is supposed. If so, I will procure & send it to you.

Dear Levin, although I received none of the many letters you say you wrote, still it pleases me to think you had thought of and written to me, for by some of my relatives & others I was once proud to call my friends, I have been since this most unholy & ruinous war, treated with so much coldness—nay, almost rudeness, that I had almost doubted if I had a relative or friend. I thank you kindly for your pressing invitation to visit you, but for this winter, necessity, advancing age, and a constant occupation (though in good health for my years), will confine me to this city now entirely. I trust our Heavenly Father may watch over us and in His own god time, bring to us days of peace and comfort.

Remember me most kindly to your family and to all friends. Oh! how often and much do I think of you all. Believe me dear friend, as ever yours affectionately, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 15

Washington City, D. C.
21st December 1862

Dear Levin,

I received your favor of the 1st inst. and have deferred answering it, only with the hope that I might in the future see even a dim prospect of seeing or visiting you all once more, or of a better state of things to our down-trodden country. But alas! I can see none. This will reach you, I hope, in xmas week—that old festival that in our younger days would awaken such joyous hours. But now when you assemble around the hearth your beloved ones, and look abroad upon this once happy land and view the picture of woe and desolation, I confess such scenes unman me. Abolitionism—surely you are allied to Satan. Oh! the misery, where and when will it end? Amidst it all the innocent suffers alike with the guilty. Who is benefitted? Surely none in the short time now left to you and I. But enough of this.

Most happy should I be to be able to avail myself of your kind invitation to spend even a portion of the next week with you, but dear Levin, though not as old as yourself, I too feel as if the last sands were dropping from the glass and my few remaining days must be spend diligently in preparing for a better world. I have been confined to my room the last two days and a little sickness now leaves its indelible marks on me.

I may be too desponding and far be it from me to cast a greater gloom on you and yours, but to my mind, unacquainted as I am with the evil machinations of the worse than evil politicians, I much fear that utter ruin and woe stares us in the face. Would to Heaven I may be mistaken and that better days may yet be in store for us. To Him who made all things—all things are surely possible. To Him then as our only sure refuge, let us cast our hopes for peace and safety here and happiness hereafter.

Among my friends here in [ ], I often hear of death, sickness, trials and troubles. Indeed, those time, I presume none are exempt. O for the power to make all friends happy and bring to them peace, prosperity and security. Then indeed should I be supremely happy. Most sincerely do I sympathize with Col. Dunlop & cousin Kitty at their loss, and such and invaluable son. What victories can make amends or bring him back to them? None. Please say this much, with my love tho them.

Well, Levin, I have written you a long letter and said but little, I fear, that is at all interesting to you. Make my kind regards to your family each and all and to all friends near you and believe me now and always truly your friend and well wisher. — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 16

Washington City, D. C.
Sunday evening, February 22nd, 1863

Dear Levin,

Since I received your letter of the 16th inst. I have employed the few leisure moments I had in trying to find out something (I had hoped favorably) relative to your enquiries, but alas! every step I took seemed to be more adverse. I learned last night that a Bill was now pending in Congress (with a bad prospect of its success) to appoint Commissioners who should examine the extent of damages, judge of the justice of the claims by the evidence presented, and report to the next Congress, what portion ought to be paid & then ask for an appropriation to liquidate the same. Now my dear friend, whilst I wish most sincerely & would cheerfully do everything for your success, still I cannot command it. With no power or influence to make or unmake, I am but an humble and silent observer of events surrounding us all, and with pain do I say I see no particular bright or cheering prospect ahead to comfort us, but the only one—viz: Do the best we can and rely upon Him who alone can make and destroy.

The times, the losses, crosses, bad feelings and bitter enmities growing out of them at times appalls me so that I am ready almost to shrink from myself & wonder what land or country it is I live in. But enough of all this gloom. Like yourself, I am wonderfully permitted to enjoy a great share of good health for one of my age and like yourself, I do what I can to preserve and continue it thus good, though not with as many good reasons as you have (your family about you) to desire longevity. But there is a wiser one than you or I that directs and guides all things for the best.

I wish sincerely I could see a prospect justifying my naming a period when I might be able to visit you or indeed any Maryland friends but alas! the uncertainty, trials and changes all, all forbid me now to feed my fancy with a renewal of such bygone days of happiness and pleasure, and I am doomed to linger and toil on here in the hope of doing some little good to others who Providence has made it my duty and I make it my pleasure to do what I can for.

Do remember me most kindly to each and all your family & to every enquiring friend. How is Parick? Has he any children? How does Erasmus get along? Tell my little cousin Mollie McGill I fear that my traveling days are now nearly over. Passing events are fast hastening and admonishing me to prepare for that more certain journey from which no traveler returns.

Believe me as ever truly your friend, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 17

Washington City, D. C.
26th July 1863

My cousin Susan,

As you did to write it, so so I select the Sabbath day to answer your kind letter if the 19th inst. for as the theme to us both, is Holy, so is the day appropriate thereto.

I received a letter from your brother and answered it. I hope he received it and showed it to the family all, for it contained much that I would say here. Usually I dislike letters of condolence from prudential motives only, for it seems to open afresh the sluice of grief for which time and silence appear to be the only medicine. your dear Father I knew and loved well for more than fifty years, and I believe such feelings were reciprocated, and I was proud in having such a friend, now more than ever needed by me, for he had virtues to be esteemed and qualities to be loved.

But my cousin, doubtless you will say & probably correctly too, I am not capable of judging, but to me I often think those who are called home to Jesus first are far better off. O! the sweetness of that word—rest. To ceasse from all the weariness of life, to be done with its cares, its perplexities, its sorrows, and its miseries. For with the times and its surroundings, what is there worth living for? After losing nearly half I was worth, I now nearly three score and ten, if not from actual necessity, still to avoid thoughts worse than poverty, which are now forced on us all, as well as to aid some to me dear little minors who really seem to have none but myself to look to for education, or support, hence I say I have gone hard to work 7 or 8 hours daily and from it, I think, I am a happier if not a better man.

Make my kind and affectionate regards to your good Mother and to each and all friends with and near you. I can scarce think or speak of the pleasure it would give me to be able to pay you all a visit, and on such an evening as this and many others like it, after tea, to walk up and see Patrick and his little family & then to extend the moonlight stroll with you and others down the road to see cousin Eliza Thomas and on to see Dr. West and family. But such pleasures and comforts are for me only in anticipation, but probably I do not deserve the reality. The Lord knows best what to do with and for me. I will pray for grace to say, “Thy will be done.”

I am at least determined to try and be satisfied if not pleased with all—this being my aim, I will move calmly on until I am called hence to join our departed friends. May the blessed Lord be wi, bless and comfort your dear Mother and each and all she holds dear is the prayer of your sincere friend and relative, — Robt. T. McGill


Letter 18

Washington D. C.
April 2nd 1865

Cousin Susan,

Your very kind and polite letter of the 25th ult. was to me like a bright spot on the wintery waste of time. This unholy war has apparently so changed the feelings of many that as I was once proud to call near and dear relatives, now alas! scarce deign to say “How are you? or “I would be glad to see you.” Hence, your letter brought back to me many old associations and bygone days that are so pleasant to think of. If I know myself, I have not one unkind thought or feelings towards any, on a mere difference of opinion in politics, religion, or whose opinion should predominate. Far different, if not the very reverse, has been the conduct of many towards me whom I thought 4 years since were my friends. Hence, I have scarce left this place but for a day on business in that time.

Gladly would I accept the polite invitation of your Mother and family to visit you all this summer. But I too have just passed my three score and ten, when it is not wise to make calculations for that many days for future enjoyment. I however, after three years incessant labor in office, hope to take a trip this summer and to take my great niece Mary Mackall with me—probably to Niagara, Canada, the Lakes, &c. and to show her something of the great cities—New York and Philadelphia. She and her three brothers are now orphans adn look to me much as their best friend. It affords me great pleasure to assist them for they are grateful, polite, and affectionate, and that is all I desire, and it alone nerves me up to great exertions even at 70.

My health is excellent and I think my constant occupation tends greatly to keep it so. I live a very quiet and somewhat retired life, entirely free from discussions and excitements of any kind. Now, my cousin, are you not tired of this prosy letter? I wish for your sake the quality was at all equal to the quantity of it. My dear only sister, whom I have not seen for near 4 years owing to the times, I learn is very feeble in health. Remember me most kindly to your dear Mother and to each and every friend who thinks half as much of me as I do of them, and believe me always truly your friend and relative, — Robt. T. McGill


Some notes on family relationship recorded by Charles McGill before his death in 1859: