These letters were written by Lt. William Henry Thurston (1838-1924), the son of Isreal Thurston (1809-1888) and Abigail Persing (1817-1892) of Shamokin, Pennsylvania. William worked as a blacksmith before he enlisted and was mustered into service on July 8, 1861 as a private with the Forty-Third Regiment, Battery F, 1st Pennsylvania Light Artillery. He was promoted to 1st Lieutenant on April 22, 1865 and mustered out with the Battery on June 9, 1865.
He wrote the last two letters to his fiancé, Laura Morgan (1845-1928), whom he married in 1865. Laura was the daughter of John Campbell Morgan (1818-1887) and Mary Catharine Weimer (1825-1885) of Sunbury, Northumberland county, Pennsylvania.
At Gettysburg, Capt. Robert B. Ricketts brought 144 men to the field on 2 July 1863 serving six Ordnance Rifles. During the battle they suffered 6 killed, 14 wounded, and three missing. They took a position on Benner’s Hill and at dusk they repulsed a Rebel assault upon the battery in desperate hand-to-hand combat after every round of canister had been fired. The newspaper clipping indicates that Thurston was recognized for his bravery in the action.
Letter 1
[Note: This letter is from the collection of Robert May and was made available for transcription and publication of Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Camp near Rappahannock Station August 6, 1863
My friend Louisa,
Yours of the 1st August came to hand this evening. I am much pleased to hear from you again but I am sorry to hear that you are not well. I hope you will be all right soon. I am well and the men in our company are, in general, healthy. The weather is very warm. We can’t hardly live, water is poor and scarce. I would like to have a goo drink of water from home.
I am thankful to you for sending me the directions to Henry. I will write to him this evening. I have not received any letters from home lately. The last I heard from them they were all well. I suppose you have some fine times having picnics and parties. I would love to see my friends all once more but when, if ever, it will happen.
I suppose you will and have heard of the great Battle of Gettysburg. I received a slight wound in my shoulder but it is almost well and I am doing duty again for which I feel thankful. We expect to have more fights soon. Our men are fighting every day.
I must soon close my poor and short letter and you must excuse me. My paper is poor but the best that I can get so you must excuse it. When you get this, please answer and tell me all the good news. Give my love and best to your family and friends. From your friend, — W. H. Thurston
Direct Battery F, 1st Pennsylvania Artillery, 2nd Army Corps, Washington D. C.
Letter 2
Camp near Petersburg January 8, 1865
My own dear Laura,
I am now writing in Fort Stedman — the battery is moved. Lieut. [John F.] Campbell, Headquarters, is here. ¹ [Lt. Henry] Wireman is in Battery 11 & my section is in Battery 14. I am staying with Lieut. Campbell to spend the evening and tell him of home. I did not arrive in camp until 12 m. today. They thought me lost. I am quite well this evening but my thoughts wander homewards. Months must elapse before I will become of my trip. I wish more to come more than ever. Was it not for the pleasant time I spent with you, I would almost regret coming. Still I must try and forget it and be more content.
The weather is quite cool but no snow. Mud has been abundant until last night when the ground froze solid. Piquet firing has abated to some extent — quiet prevails along the entire line save an occasional shot fired by some sleepless sentries.
I have no news to relate from the Army. [John] F. Campbell has a bad cold. [Henry] Wireman, I think, is writing a letter to Amelia, and poor W. to L. They have asked so many questions that I am tired. I have declined answering until tomorrow. You should have seen the boys flock around me. I was tired shaking hands. All had questions to ask. Poor fellows — how I wish they could all go home and pass a pleasant time. They seemed to think I had seen all their friends when I had no more than seen a few and breathed the pure air in Old Pennsylvania. That seemed to give them some pleasure and to hear me tell what I had seen and done. I could not tell them all. No neither could I tell them what my sad heart experienced when I paced them ever memorable steps toward the depot and when the train hurried me from her who I so tenderly love. The present crowded my mind to such an extent that I could scarcely overcome them when I gave you the parting kiss. No one could tell what I felt. I could not bear it but I was not unprepared to meet its advent. I thought of returning before I came home and knew it required a stout heart and strong mind under circumstances to overcome it. But I am back again and must think of something else part of the time.
I intend going out visiting next week to see Brother ² and Lieut. [Lemuel] Shipman ³ and some more of my friends. I will tell you all about it when I return.
I suppose you have received your New Years gift ‘ere this. I did not know what to send you that might please you. I seen them and thought them pretty. They are called an Indian fan, made at Niagara Falls. Say providing you don’t like it, it will do to look at and think of poor me.
Laura, say, I have been telling the boys what nice times I had when at home. I think I told them I helped to devour one half score of turkeys and gooses and more hens and roosters than I could remember — a pretty story, don’t you think, for me.
Ad in the Daily National Inteligencer for Ford Theatre on Monday, 2 January 1865: Damon & Pythias featuring Edwin Forest played.
I left Sunday, or Monday morning, 2d January 1865. Did not [feel] well. After a tiresome ride, I arrived at Baltimore by 6½ P.M. I immediately looked after a [omni]bus to convey me to Washington Depot. I did not look long when I heard a darkey cry out at the top of his voice, “Did way for Washington!” I soon found myself quite comfortably seated in a stage coach when the driver cracked his whip and soon landed us safe to our awaiting train. I had scarcely seated myself when the train started. The train arrived there 7½ o’clock. I mounted an [omni]bus and went to the United States Hotel. Supper was waiting. I ate some and then started in company with some officers for Ford’s Theatre. The plays were good but I did not enjoy them for reasons I have stated. I went back to the hotel and went to bed but could not sleep much.
After breakfast, I went to the Provost Marshal to procure a pass to join my company when to my surprise I received an order to report to Rendezvous of Distributions and take a detachment of men to City Point. Here my trouble commenced — to be responsible for a lot of men I could not think of but I reported on Tuesday, the 3rd. It was quite dark when I arrived at the camp. Here I met Luther Harrison. He was good company for me. He asked all about you. He told me that you had written a line to him in his mother’s letter which was right that you should so so. Well, I remained that night and the 4th and the 5th until 12 o’clock m. when I started with 88 men for Alexandria to take the mail boat for City Point. We arrived there [Alexandria] at 3 P.M. Here came the tug of war. A____ the mail boat is out of repair and you must wait another day, and since I am getting blind with sick headache, the men helped me back to the Soldier’s Rest. Then I wished for some one to rest my weary head. I was so sick I thought I could not live. One of the men went out and found me a place to sup at the hotel. They put me to bed [and] I soon fell in a stout sleep and did not awake till sunrise when I felt much better.
I had a good warm breakfast. I did not go out much as it rained all day. We remained in the City till 3 P.M., Jan. 6th when we spied the Dictator gliding over the blue waters of the far-famed Potomac [river]. She moored alongside the Quay and soon we were all on board and off she steamed for Dixie. Soon it grew quite dark, fog commenced to hover around us, and the Captain anchored the boat until the fog disappeared. About 11 A.M. we got under way and the next I knew the boat run aground on a sand bar and here we lay till 9½ A.M., 7th January. After strenuous exertions the boat started on its perilous journey. We soon came out in the Bay [where] the winds seemed to be all abroad [and] dashed against the vessels side, shaking her from stem to stern. She reeled and rolled. The passengers became sick. I was compelled to lie down but our little Bark seemingly was destined to outride the storms which threatened to swallow up our noble little ship with so many precious souls and land in safe on shore. We arrived at City Point at 4 A.M. this morning. O, I was so glad.
Monday [January] 9th 1865
I will write a few lines more and close my poor rambling letter. The sun shines warm and bids fair to be a pleasant day. I am so homesick this morning. I wish more for home than when I started but I hope to become more reconciled in a few days. The Boys in my Section are putting me up a house and I must go and superintend the job. Campbell expects to come home soon. He also looks for his Captaincy every day.
I will enclose ten dollars which you will please give to your Papa for me. He paid my subscription for the Democrat and I forgot when I left to pay him. I will write to him soon. Remember me to Grier’s family and yours. The letter you had reference to I found here when I came — also a number of others.
I must now close. Please write soon. Don’t forget to tell me when you received the last billing and anything that could be interesting to me. I still remain yours with much love. — W. H. Thurston
Lieut. Battery F, 1st Pa. Artillery, 2nd Corps, Washington D. C.
¹ Lt. John F. Campbell (1840-1902) succeeded Ricketts as the captain of the Forty-Third Regiment, Battery F, 1st Pennsylvania Light Artillery, in April 1865. He is buried in Augustaville, Northumberland county, Pennsylvania. John Campbell was most likely a distant cousin of Laura Morgan’s whose fraternal grandmother was Charity Campbell.
² Possibly Silas Thurston (1842-1923) who served withe “Bucktails” in the 149th Pennsylvania Volunteers.
³ Lt. Lemuel Shipman (b. 1838) of Sunbury, Pennsylvania, entered the service as first sergeant of Co. D, 3d Pennsylvania Heavy Artillery, 152nd Pennsylvania, in October 1862. He was promoted to lieutenant in May 1864.
Letter 3
Headquarters Battery No. 14 February 25th 1865
Dear Laura,
Yours of the 19th came to hand last night. I was pleased to hear from you again. I am well as usual and will not complain. I wrote to you on the 23rd which no doubt you will get ‘ere this. I had not heard from you in so long and I thought it my duty to write. I still remain in Battery No. 14 and expect to stay some time although we have marching orders. But I think I will not move for some time to come.
I had the honor of firing a shotted salute yesterday in honor of the fall of Wilmington, North Carolina. There were a large crowd of men collected to witness it. I had no accident and it went all well and good. The Army seems to be in good cheer and I think the next fight we make will be a telling blow to the Rebs. We will have some hard fights but I think ’tis safe to say the end is drawing nigh. The Rebels are deserting by hundreds which must soon deplete their ranks. They are without a doubt hungry and tired of fighting. They are also ragged and dirty with forlorn looks and are objects of pity.
Two men had their heads blown off yesterday close here with mortar shells — members of the 51st Pennsylvania. They lay in their tents sleeping at the time which this death monster fell among them. It was a shell 8 inches in diameter which exploded with a great noise. ¹
I am sorry to hear that Becca B. is not so happy as she once was but I suppose ’tis with them like many others — the honeymoon has past into the shades of oblivion and that long expected life of bliss has not been realized. But this generally happens when least anticipated. Those who think they can best agree soonest dispute and live unpleasant, but I hope ’twill not be so with me and some one.
I perceive you don’t like to sit up at a wake. I have a wake all the time. There are plenty of dead buried only a few feet from my tent that fell on the 17th June 1864, but we are used to this and don’t think of it.
Don’t forget to tell Miss Huldah she had better get them teeth and spell me that answer or I will wool her as __ fate.
You say your good old friend Ellen came to see you once, and she talked over my pictures. She must have admired them. What has become of Louisa and John? I did not see them last winter. I seen Ellen at the party at home but had no chance to talk with her. I suppose she is the same as of old.
I must close and go to camp for supper. ‘Tis raining fast and I will get a little wet but no matter. I am used to the storms of Old Virginia.
Remember me kindly to all your family. Also Grier’s. I will look for an answer soon. I remain your best friend and devoted W.
— Lieut. W. H. Thurston, Batty F, 1st Pa. Art.
¹ One of the two soldiers was John Blyler (1845-1865) who enlisted in Co. G, 51st Pennsylvania in February 1864. He was the son of Absalom Blyler (1803-1863) and Catharine Heimback (1812-1857) of Penns Creek, Snyder county, Pennsylvania. A Certificate of Death for Blyler states that he was “killed by enemy by a piece of mortar shell passing directly through his head while in his tent in camp in front of Petersburg, Va. on February 24th 1865.
[Note: These letters are from the collection of Michael Huston and were offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Letter 1
Washington, Iowa November 4, 1860
My dear Ann, for by that name I must still call you. I have wrote to you but received no answer. Ann, please write me a few lines and let me know if cruelty has entered your mind or if someone has set you against me or whether you have so small opinion of me as to think I have slighted you or disregarded my promises which we made, be it far from that, however light you may regard them. Yet I myself am foolish enough to consider them as something more than trifles and am likewise induced to believe that the person who voluntarily breaks a promise will not regard an oath.
Ann, you as a follower of Christ must write me a few lines and let me know if I should find a welcome at your home. If I have wounded your feelings, I am ready to make restitution for it. The reason I have not wrote is through gross neglect, not through any less respect to you.
Ann, I have been true to you in every other respect. My dear Ann, forget the past and write me a few lines and let me know whether you are at home and set the time and I will come. Ann, I have a great deal more to say but not at present. I can tell it to you better when I see you if happily these lines are received.
Ann, be sure to write and let me know your mind. I am yours forever if you will. — J. Murkin
Letter 2
Addressed to Miss Rose A. Showalter, Washington, Iowa
Washington, Iowa November 24, 1860
Dear Ann,
I received your letter of the 17th last Monday and did not intend to write but to come myself last Saturday but I could not and now take my pen in hand to give you my reasons for not coming. I would have rather come and seen you than to have to write these lines. I told my boss that I did not want to work on Saturday but he told me I must work as he had a pair of boots promised on Saturday and I must make them. It would have been folly in the extreme of me to refuse as I have a good deal of work and can make from 7 to 9 dollars per week and this is a throng [?] time with us now but I intend to come as soon as I can and see you.
Ann, you must excuse me for I am a going to write just as if I was a talking face to face with you. Now Ann, I think you must have misunderstood the tenor of my letters which I wrote you to a great extent for I di not, nor cannot, nor do I blame you at all. I think I told you in the first I sent to you that I had not acted right as a gentleman ought to do towards one he pretends to love. Ann, I confess my fault to you in that.
Ann, you say you think as much of me as you ever did. I confess I think more of you since you wrote the last letter. It showed to me that you was capable of standing your own defense. But Ann, you must not draw from this that I did not thinnk you capable of that before—not at all. Ann, you say you have been sorry many times since you made that promise to me. You say you made it in an unguarded moment. Ann, forget the past and look forward, trusting in Him who has guided us thus far, trusting and believing that all things will work together for the good of us both.
Ann, I am of the same opinion as you that a bad promise is better broken than carried into execution, but I cannot see that ours is so very bad after all. If you think I am not capable of taking care of a partner in life, you have a perfect right to give your opinion on the subject. Ann, I hope you will not think hard of what I have said. Ann, the reason that I asked you whether I should be welcome at your house was from the fact I had wrote one letter and received no answer which made me think as you did not write, you would not want to see me there. And as for the treatment I had when at your house, if I had been your brother, I could not have been treated with more respect. Your father has always treated me the same whenever he met me on the street.
Ann, you seem to think we have not that affection for each other that we ought to have. It is true, we have not showed that respect and love to each other we ought to have done, but it is said that a long acquaintance makes a short repentance. Ann, it is very true I am poor and alone in this world, but I believe with a true reliance upon Him, He [who] has guided me thus far, will guide me to the very end. But I don’t think that I have any influence on your mind as to [ ] because I know you are capable of better judgment.
Ann, I do hope these few remarks I have made will not hurt your feelings. Ann, I shall surely come and see you soon as I can. Now Ann, I want you to comply with my request. Burn this [letter] if you please. I hope you will make out to read it. I have a very bad pen which you can readily see. I have considerable more to say but not at present as it is late. Ann, be sure and write a few lines as soon as you can as I am not sure what day I can come to see you. It will not do any harm to write to each other. Yours in love, — J. Murkin
Letter 3
Washington, Iowa February 3, 1861
My dear Ann,
I take pleasure in writing a few lines to you hoping they may find you in the possession of good health as it leaves me at this time.
I told you, Ann, that I would write to you soon so I embrace the opportunity to make my promise good. I want you to be sure and have your likeness put in that locket the first opportunity you have so I can get it the first time I come and then I will have mine put in and give it back to you again.
My dear Ann, I want you to answer this soon and not be afraid to write. I guess your mother will not be against us corresponding to each other if she knew our intentions ar good. Maybe she thought—yes knew—that I had not acted toward you as a gentleman should towards one he pretend to love. I have no doubt in my own mind this was her reason for speaking to you as he did for I know no other reason. She has always treated me with the greatest respect when I have been at your house.
I will close for the present, Yours inn love, — James Murkin
[handwritten poem no transcribed]
Letter 4
April 7th 1861
I now take the opportunity to write you a few lines for your meditation as I promised you. I would write to you the first opportunity that offered itself to me. I had a very wet time going home. It commenced to rain just as I came on the prairie by Major Young’s house so I went to Tom Woods’ house and ate supper with them thinking it would astop raining but my hopes was all blighted for just after I started, it commenced to rain [even] faster. But I did not get wet as I had on a good overcoat.
Ann, I have got my likeness put in the locket but now the question is whether you will like it. I guess, Ann, I will send it to you by Franklin the first chance I have—not that I want to avoid coming myself and by any means because your company is preferable to me than all the world besides, and I will come myself again soon. But I want you to have your likeness taken over again in a darker dress. I will send you one dollar bill in Iowa money so you need not be afraid but it will be good as all other money is failing now.
Dear Ann, I want you to tend to it the first opportunity you have after you get your locket. I think you had better go to the car on the north side of the square as I believe he is the best artist and will give you the best likeness.
Now, my dear Ann, I will change the subject. Whether it will be agreeable to you for us to get married in the fall as early as we can is now a matter for your consideration as well as mine. I want to do all in my power to make you happy and that is my greatest object and shall be my aim in the future to promote your happiness and my only joy and heart’s delight. I will submit this to your judgment and consideration. Hoping to hear from you soon, to all of which I heartily subscribe myself yours through life, trusting you can say the same. From James Murkin to his Rose A. Showalter
Letter 5
Keokuk, Iowa May 26, 1861
Dear Ann,
The first object of my thoughts and the pride of my heart to fulfill my promise. I now take the opportunity to present a few thoughts to you as they appear to me and the first is to inform you that I am well and hope I shall soon hear that you are all enjoying the same blessing.
Ann, you must excise me for not coming out to see you before I left. If I could pew to you my feelings, I know you would readily forgive me. I looked for you that day we started but found you not. I was glad I did not see you for it would have made me feel ten times worse. I never saw such a day in Washington as that day we started for Keokuk. Most everyone I saw was bathed in tears.
We arrived here all safe. There is 2,000 soldiers her now in Keokuk. It is the talk today that the 1st [Iowa] Regiment will leave for Cairo this week. We are living in town. We are not camped out yet. Ann, I cannot send you much news this time but hope I shall be able to write more next time. When you write to me again, I want you to send me your father’s given name. I want to write to him because I feel it my duty. He has treated me more like a father would a son. In fact, he has treated me better than I have deserved at his hands.
Ann, I shall have to close for the present as our supper is about ready and I must close for the present. Now my dear Ann, the object of my heart, I want you to be sure and write by return of mail. Give my respects to all and accept the same yourself. Ann, you must excuse my writing as I have neither k=ink nor pen. Good night.
Letter 6
Keokuk, Iowa June 2nd 1861
Dear Ann,
I now take this opportunity to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and trust that these few lines will find you all enjoying the same blessing. Dear Ann, I think long to hear from you and I long to see you once more. I think if we are not moved from here by the 4th of July, some of us will come to Washington [Iowa] and spend the 4th. I will be sure to come if possible and stay a day or two.
We have merry times—some writing and some singing, some one thing and some another. We have prayer meetings three times per week in our quarters. I was out to meeting this morning and had a very good sermon preached. And this afternoon I am writing to you and tonight I have to stand watch while you will be at rest. I shall often think of you. The 2nd Regiment is sworn into the United States service for three years unless sooner discharged.
Dear Ann, you must not think hard of me because I went with the company. Ann, I could not bear the idea of being called a coward. May, I wold rather go for ten years because I think I am in a right cause. But my dear Ann, I think we will all be back home in six months and maybe sooner. But my hearts shall be with you wherever I go. Ann, I wish I was at your home today so we could have a chat together.
The boys have great times here. we go down to the river and make every steamboat hoist the stars and stripes. Today the boys went down to the river just as a boat came up and demanded the stripes and the captain refused to hoist his colors and they would not let him unload his boat. But he soon hoisted them. Our regiment all marched out in the street yesterday and made quite a grand appearance [of] 1,000 men.
Now Ann, I want you to be sure and let me know how you are enjoying yourself. So dear Ann, I must close by subscribing myself yours until death. — James Murkin
My address is James Murkin, Keokuk, Iowa, in care of Capt. H[enry] R. Cowles, 2nd Regiment Iowa Volunteers
Letter 7
Keokuk, Iowa June 13th 1861
Dear Ann,
I write a few lines in haste to let you know that we [are] called to start for Hannibal, Missouri. It is now 2 o’clock in the morning. The boys are all in good spirits. Dear Ann, you must excuse me for these few words. I have not time. we was called up out of bed and have to start right away. I will write to you as soon as I can. Yours till death. — James Murkin
Do not write till you hear from me again.
Letter 8
St. Joseph, Missouri June 16, 1861
Dear Ann,
I now embrace this opportunity to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hope you are enjoying the same blessing. Dear Ann, I wrote a few lines to you when I started from Keokuk to let you know that I was going to leave for Hannibal, Missouri. we stayed there only one night and the next day we started for St. Jo, 206 miles further west.
Early in the war, both pro-Southern and pro-Northern supporters in St. Joseph displayed banners and flags. When John L. Bittinger became St. Joseph’s postmaster on May 22, 1861, he raised the U.S. flag on the roof of the post office. During the raising of the flag, former St. Joseph Mayor M. Jeff Thompson led an unruly mob that displayed their Southern sympathies by tearing down the flag and flagpole. Thompson later described the incident, “I drew my knife and pistol, ascended the very ladder that they had used to the roof of the building, and amid cheers, groans, shouts and threats, I severed the halyard with my bowie…” The mob tore the flag into pieces and threw the flagpole into the Missouri River. The men then turned their sights on other U.S. flags in town. When they went to Turner Hall they found that Robert Bradshaw and other Union supporters had locked and were guarding the doors. A member of the mob, Alonzo Slayback, asked Bradshaw to lower the flag. He agreed but insisted on firing a salute to the flag. As Bradshaw appeared on the roof, the crowd threatened to shoot him. Slayback pulled his own gun and defended him. Bradshaw cheered the flag, fired six shots in salute, and safely lowered the flag. The City Council banned flying flags of any kind in St. Joseph until after Union troops occupied the city. [Courtesy St. Joseph Museums, Inc.]
We have been here two days. I have been two nights without going to bed. The first night we was all night on the cars coming to this place. And the next night, just as we was going to bed, was ordered to march and was all night on the cars again. We was after the rebels. They set fire to a bridge on the railroad and we arrived in time to put it out before it done much damage. There was 200 of us. We went and surrounded the town and took 25 prisoners. I cannot give you the full details of it but there was no one killed. But we had lots of fun when we brought them to town. We took a keg of powder and guns and boyeknibes [?] and four secession flags from them. There is another lot of men started up the railroad to take some more. I do not know of only one secession man been killed. One of our regiment shot him as we was coming to this place. One of our men went and asked him if he was not a secessionist and he said he was. He asked him if he had a secession flag. He said he had and swore he should not have it. He drew a pistol on our man and told him he would shoot him and our man shot him down on hte spot and he never spoke.
There is a great many rebels about here but they dare not say much as the Union men are the strongest. They have threatened the Union men of St. Joseph before we came but they are pretty quiet now. The people are pleased to see us wherever we go. If you had seen them come from town this morning when we fetched the rebels to town, one would think we had plenty friends.
Dear, you must excuse me this time for I must close. I am tired. John Eichelberger [see image below] sleeps with me and he is abed and asleep. Dear Ann, you must not write to me until you hear from me again for we do not know how soon we will have to leave. I will write again soon if all is well. Excuse me Ann if I say [a poem not transribed]
Yours with love, — James Murkin
1/4 plate tintype image of John C. Eichelberger. In November 1862 James Murkin wrote about the boys getting their images taken in overcoats, which he didn’t like. At that time they were still waiting on their blue frocks, which were replacing their originally issued gray uniforms.
Letter 9
Camp Lyons, Cameron, Missouri June 25th 1861
Dear Anna,
You must excuse me for not writing to you sooner. When I tell you my reasons for not doing so, you will readily see. I commenced to write a letter to you on the 18th and had it nearly finished when I was suddenly called to leave to go about 50 miles on the railroad to protect some railroad bridges where we still remain and expect to be here nearly all week. But we expected to return back in a day or two. Then I would have wrote to you sooner.
Dear Ann, I think long to hear from you to know how you are getting along. You must write to me by return of mail. you must direct yours to St. Joseph. Dear Ann, it seems hard to me that I cannot communicate to you my ideas only through the medium of writing. We cannot expect to speak in this way as we would if we was in each others company. Oh Ann, I hope it will be our happy lot to see each other again before long. My hopes are all blighted in regard to coming to see you on the 4th of July. But things seem to be going on all right about here. The people in this state are beginning to see the error of their way. They have thought all along we was come to destroy their homes and property. But they are beginning to find out we are for peace.
We have 15 prisoners here with us now. We took [them] yesterday and four the night before which makes 19 and about the same quantity of guns. We was out all Friday night after the rebels—a gang of about 60. It thundered and lightninged and rained nearly all night. We was all of us wet as we could be. We had to travel through the long grass which made it hard traveling. There is many hardships connected with a military life that a man who has not experienced it knows nothing about it. But I am not disappointed in that respect. I look for a hard road to travel, and trusting in Him who ruleth all things, I believe He will bring me safe through where we shall be permitted to mingle our voices together again.
Dear Ann, you must excuse my hard writing for there is some singing and some dancing, some one thing and some another. We have a lot of good-hearted boys, but some of them swear very hard. But I must put up with it and I will send you some postage stamps in this if I can get in town. And I want you to write often as you can and I will write to you every opportunity.
Dear Ann, I have not wrote to your Father yet. Do you think he would like to hear from us to know how we are getting along? I guess he would be very glad. I guess I will write the first opportunity. Dear Ann, I want you to send me a lock of your hair. I sent one of mine to you in a letter so I expect you have got it. Oh Anna, how I long to hear from you. Do you? Be sure and write as soon as possible and do not wait for me to write first. I have not the pleasure to write at all times when I would like to. But I will write as often as I can.
Dear Anna, I must bring my remarks to a close for the present and bid you goodbye hoping that we will shortly see each other again to which I will subscribe myself yours till death. Dear Anna, my hand and heart forever to you I have freely given and never will I withdraw it till we depart for heaven. — James Murkin
James Murkin, St. Joseph, Missouri, in care of Capt. H. R. Cowles, 2nd Regiment, Iowa Volunteers
Letter 10
Camp Lyons St. Joseph, Missouri July 6th 1861
Dear Anna,
I received your kind missive about an hour ago and it gave me much pleasure to read its contents and find that you was in the possession of good health. It seemed to me a dreadful long time since I heard from you. We was out drilling this morning when the letters was brought to our camp so I was taken a little by surprise when I came back to find two letters for me. I received one from my old boss in Washington. I hope it will not be so long again before I hear from you.
Dear Anna, this was the dullest 4th of July I ever experienced. We had to stay in camp all day but even if I had the privilege to have went out, it would have been dull. I would have given most anything to have been at Washington in your company on the 4th but dear Ann, that was impossible under the circumstances. But I hope the time will soon come when we shall enjoy each other’s presence. Some think we will be home by Christmas. Oh desar Ann, I hope that may be the result. If I knew it was, I would gladly stay that length of time.
Dear Ann, I heard from you the other day [that you had] been at Mr. Cochran’s with Miss Powell—Mr. [George W.] Neal’s 1 intended [bride]. He boards in the same tent with me and John Eichenberger. I wished to myself that we could just have stepped in and taken you both by surprise. Dear Ann, you say when anyone sees my likeness, you tell them it is your soldier boy. I glory in your courage. I’d rather be called that than a coward and I believe you would too.
We raised a large flag pole at our camp on the morning of the 4th and the next morning we had a very heavy thunderstorm shower and it was struck by lightning twice that morning. It was struck lightly the first time and the 2nd time it was knocked to splinters.
Dear Ann, I have nothing of importance to write this time from our regiment. They are most all in good health. We have 3 or 4 in our company sick. I have enjoyed good health all the time for which I am very thankful for good health is the greatest blessing we enjoy.
I will have to make my letter short this time as it is nearly time for us to go out to drill. We have got our uniforms. They came in the 4th of July. The whole regiment was out together last night and we looked first rate.
Dear Ann, I received the lock of your hair you sent me in your letter. I’ll be sure to take good care of it and try and not lose it. If it was not for your likeness, I don’t know what I should do. i often look at it and think of the time when we shall meet to part no more. Oh my dear Ann, I hope and trust that time will come. I must close for this time. Write soon as you can. So goodbye for the present. I remain yours as ever til death. — James Murkin
St, Joseph, Missouri, in care of Capt. H. R. Cowles, Co. H, 2nd Regiment, Iowa Volunteers.
1 Neal, George W. Age 23. Residence Washington, nativity Ohio. Enlisted May 1, 1861. Mustered May 27, 1861. Promoted Fifth Sergeant; Third Sergeant; First Sergeant Dec. 1, 1861, and Second Lieutenant Aug. 7, 1862. Ball passed through head, killing him instantly, Oct. 4, 1862, Corinth, Miss. Buried in Union National Cemetery, Corinth, Miss. Section 52 7, grave 10.
Letter 11
Camp Lyons St, Joseph, Missouri July 12, 1861
Dear Ann,
I improve the opportunity this morning to write a few lines to you for your perusal. The reason I have delayed writing to you is because we have been from camp. We started Monday morning at daylight and came back last night. We went about 50 miles north from St. Joseph. We had to travel most the way by foot. It was rather a hard trip for us. The weather was very warm. Monday night was the hardest night I most ever saw. It came up a thunder storm just about dark and continued until 12 or 1 o’clock. I think I never saw it rain harder in my life. We had to stand out in it. There was 300 of us together. We had to go to a town called Marysville in the northwest part of the state. The rebels had threatened to take the town but when we came, they had all left. We was within 15 miles of the Iowa line/ We saw lots of people from Iowa. They was glad to see us. We stayed two days. The people treated us first rate. They came to help the Union men in Marysville. They caught about 50 rebels and most of them took the oath [of allegiance]. We fetched 7 with us that would not take the oath. We will take good care of them till they turn from the error of their ways.
My dear Ann, I am writing to you but I don’t know when you will get it. The rebels have torn up the railroad track and stopped the cars from running between here and Hannibal and burned a warehouse. But we expect the cars will run pretty soon again. There was five companies sent from our camp to help rout the rebels. They was sent while we was out on our trip but we have not heard from them yet nor don’t know what they are doing.
Dear Ann, I have not wrote to your father yet. In fact, I have not had time. You must not think hard of me. Dear Ann, I will write to him the first chance I have. You must be sure and give my respects to your father and mother the first time you see them. I had almost forgot to tell you that I was well and in good health, notwithstanding our hard march. Some of our boys had to turn back the second day and go home, and some of the other company’s boys too. I have no fault to find with a soldier’s life—only in our provisions and in that respect we are not treated as men ought to be in our situation. But if it be true that we have to take another oath before they can hold us three years, I guess we shall all come home when the three months are up. It is the talk in camp that we will have to be sworn again. I am afraid it is too good news to be true.
Ann, I shall soon see you again. Dear Ann, I will try and be a good boy anyhow till I come home again. When you write, you must send me all the news you can. You will excuse me this time for being brief, won’t you? I guess you will. It is reported just now that they are having warm times at Hannibal. A man just came from town but I do not know whether it be true or not as there is so many flying reports. But I will write to you again soon if all be well. So I must bid you goodbye for the present, dear Ann, by subscribing myself yours and only yours till death. — James Murkin
Letter 12
Camp Lyons July 23, 1861
My dear Ann,
I received your kind letter this morning and was glad to hear from you again and to hear that you was enjoying yourself as well as you do. Dear Ann, you wanted to know how I enjoyed a military life, as you say I don’t remember ever speaking to you about it. As far as military life is concerned, I am very well satisfied because I think our cause is a just one. But in relation to our treatment, we have reasons to complain. We have not had our just rights as the army regulations lay down for us. We get plenty to eat now—such as it is. The men have complained a great deal about our fare and we are beginning to get better board. But when I [en]listed, I expected to see some hard time and have not been disappointed. We have seen some good times and some hard times which we may always look for in a military life. But I hope and trust it won’t last long. I hope the time will soon come when I shall return to my Ann and enjoy myself in the presence of one who I will never love again.
Dear Ann, I happened of an accident the other day. My carpet sack was laying on the floor and someone tread on it and broke the case of your likeness but did not hurt you any. I got it put in another [case] and now it is as good as ever but the case is not as good as the one broke. But I don’t care for that. I told Neal the other day that his girl’s likeness was not to be compared with mine. Was I not telling the truth, Ann? I know I was. I told Neal what you said in your letter—that he had better come home or he would lose his better [half]. He said he was not afraid of that. I told him I was not afraid if all the boys in Iowa would attend the like with my girl because they cannot succeed because the one I love will prove true to me and in that respect, I could rest contented.
My dear Ann, I do hope and trust that these troubles will soon end when I can return home to see you once more. It is a true saying which I never realized so plain before—that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I know it to be a fact by self experience. Dear Ann, I wrote a letter to your Father th other day but I had not much time to write so I could not write a very long one as we have to attend to all orders as they are given to us.
I am well and in good health and a most all the other boys. One of our boys shot his thumb off the other day between the first and second joint. It was an accident. He is from Crawfordsville. His name is Williams. 1
Dear Ann, Neal and I often say we should like to step in some evening and catch you and Hetty together. Would not we have a good time? I guess we would! John Eichenberger is asleep right by my side, Neal at my feet, and six others in the tent—all asleep. We have a first rate time. Lots of boys in our tent and all get along well together.
Dear Ann, it will be I guess nearly two weeks before I shall hear from you again if you don’t write till you get this letter. So you will write as soon as you can as it is the only way we have of communicating to each other our ideas. But maybe it won’t last long in this way. I long for the time when I can speak to you face to face once more and you may bet I won’t leave you again without your full consent.
Dear Ann, you will please give my compliments to Miss Gray and tell her that I have to eat dinner at her house sometime with you. I must close for the present as it is nearly time for drill. So I must close by subscribing myself yours, true and faithful, till death. — James Murkin
1 Thomas Y. Williams. Age 21. Residence Crawfordsville, nativity Ohio. Enlisted May 1, 1861. Mustered May 27, 1861. Discharged for disability Nov. 2 8, 1861.
Letter 13
Camp Lyons St. Joseph, Missouri July 27th 1861
I just take my pen to write you a few lines to let you know that we have to start for St. Louis this afternoon at 3 o’clock so it will be no use for you to write to me till you hear from me again. I will write to you just as soon as we stop. If we stop at St. Louis any length of time, you must write by return of mail. We have no idea where we are going to. We have orders to go to St. Louis but wherever I go, I will not forget to write to my dear Ann. You will have wrote to me before you get this, I guess. The letters will be sent on to us so I will be likely to get your letters when it comes. I will send you an envelope too of a new kind. I would have sent you some stamps but I could not get any here in camp and I have not time to go to town.
Dear Ann, you must excuse me this time for writing so short a letter. I have not got the time. G. W. Neal is going to send his girl some envelopes just like yours so you must send them when you write to us. I must close for the present but I give my best love to you hoping to see you again before long [and] hoping that we may be guided by divine wisdom until you and I shall meet again, to all of which I readily subscribe myself yours till death. — James Murkin
To his Anna and only love, Miss R. A. Showalter
Letter 14
Cape Girardeau [Missouri] August 21st 1861
Dear Ann,
I take this opportunity this morning to let you know that I am well. We are on the Mississippi river bound for Cairo. we are within 50 miles of it now. We are stopped at this town called Cape Girardeau for a little while this morning. I have found a shady place on the boat and am improving a few moments this morning in writing to you. We have had a long ride on the river and railroad. We have rode about 500 miles and not got to our journey’s end yet. We have a large lot of us now together now. There was 8 steamers started with us from St. Louis yesterday down the river. John C. Frémont is with us. He has command of all the forces in the West.
Dear Ann, you must not think hard of me if you don’t hear from me as often as you did, I will write to you as often as I can but I am afraid you will not get all I send to you. I guess it will not be any use for you to write to me until we have to stay at some point or other. I will be sure to let you know the first opportunity.
Dear Ann, it is so warm here we are most melted and we have to drink the river water as we cannot get fresh. We are just going to start again down the river but I will try and write some as we go. If you could get a St. Louis paper and read it, it would give you a better idea of our trip than I can in a letter. I guess it is the greatest train that has left St. Louis for a long time—8 large steamboats all in a line and all heavy laden.
Ann, you will please remember and write to me just as soon as I let you know where to write to and you must send me all the news you can. Give my best respects to your folks when you see them and tell them I am well. Dear Ann, it is so warm here I will be obliged to close for the present. There is another young man writing by my side and he has quit. The sweat is just dropping off us both. I will write to you again when I get ashore, if possible, and give you more particulars of our trip. So no more at this time.
From James Murkin
Letter 15
Bird’s Point [Missouri] August 4th 1861
Dear Anna,
THe last time I wrote to you my time was very limited and I had not much time to write what I wanted. We had a very good time from St. Louis to this place riding on the boat. It is very pleasant riding on the river on a pleasure trip, moreso than ours to tell you the truth, and I did not judge myself so well in my situation as I could have done at home in your company. We only stopped at one place on the river where we was when I wrote to [you] last. We stopped there about 6 hours but I did not go ashore.
We started again about noon for Bird’s Point and arrived here about 5 o’clock in the evening. We had to stay on the boat all night until morning and then went ashore. I think it was the warmest day I most ever saw. There was three men sun struck, One of them died instantly but I have not heard how the other two are. They do not [belong] to our regiment.
I suppose you would like to know how many men we have here but I cannot tell just how many there is but as near as I can learn, there is 17,000 and we are looking for 7,000 more tonight. That is all told at this place and at Cairo, just over the river right opposite to us.
Dear Ann, I want you to write to me just as soon as you get this and I think I will get it all through. I have no idea how long we will stay at this place but if we move to any other place, I guess our letters will be sent to us. Ann, if there is any possible chance for us to come home when our three months are up, I will be sure to come home and so will all the rest. Our three months will be up about the 28th of August. We do not like the treatment we are receiving and another thing, we do not like the climate. It is too warm for us.
Dear Ann, I often wish I had taken your advice and stayed at home with you. We all expected to see hard times but we did expect to get enough to eat. But our expectations have been cut off. It is no use for me to try to tell you the way we have been treated in relation to our board but to make a long story short, we have not been treated like white men. So you may rest assured if I have a half a chance to come home, that I will embrace the opportunity.
Dear Ann, if I can once more meet in your company I can enjoy myself better than in my present situation. If we receive such treatment much longer, our company and regiment will be broke up and all will go home. It is nearly our supper time and I must quit for the present and write to you again soon. And if the weather is not so warm, I will try and write a little more and can give you more particulars. So I close by subscribing myself yours through life, — James Murkin
to Anna Showalter
Letter 16
St. Louis, Missouri January 8, 1862 [1862]
Dear Anna,
Yours of the 31st came to hand and after looking over its contents was sorry to hear that you was sick and was still encouraged to hear that you was getting better and hope when I hear from you again that you will be well. The cold which I had when I wrote to you, I am not well of yet. I have been quite unwell for a few days and have neglected writing to you. I am better this evening than I have been for some time. A great many of our boys have been quite sick with colds. It seems to be general all through the regiment. The weather is very bad here at present—some time rain and some times snow and sometimes freezing which makes the streets all ice and unpleasant to get about.
I will send a newspaper with this letter. you will find on the first page a piece written by one of our boys. It is Shedad. McDowell College is in full blast. It is on the outside column on the first page.
Anna, Christmas and New Years passed off very dull. We cannot get to go to town but very seldom. I have not been up to town since Christmas. We are kept pretty close. I guess it is better for sum than if we was allowed to go as we pleased. I have nothing of importance much to write as things at our college seem to be a going on about right. All is still and quiet. We are still having some new students every few days but they enter college very much against their will. We are looking for more every day from the western part of this state.
Anna, I got a letter from my mother the other day. She is well and she received my likeness safe but she thinks it do not look much like me. But it has been a long time since she saw me that I have changed and to see me in a military suit of clothes would make me look [even] more strange yet. She said she wished I was out of the army and peace and harmony once more reigned in this country. Anna, I hope that day will come soon and we all live to return home to greet those we have left at home.
Anna, I must close for this time. My respects to all your folks and love to. Anna, when you write, direct to James Murkin, Co. H, 2nd Infantry Iowa Vols.
The following stampless letter was written by Oscar Martin Burke (1824-1902) and his new bride, Martha Caroline Meech (1824-1902). They were married on 23 June 1847 in Newburgh, Cuyahoga county, Ohio, and we learn from this letter that they soon after made the journey to Oscar’s farm near the village of Libertyville in Lake county, Illinois—approximately 37 miles from Chicago. The route from Cleveland to Libertyville was made by a direct journey across the upper Great Lakes, consisting of sailing or steaming west across Lake Erie, passing through the Strait of Mackinac into Lake Michigan and then traveling south along the western shore. Although the couple called the village “new,” it had already passed through several name changes prior to their arrival. It was first settled around 1834–1835 as Vardin’s Grove. It was renamed Independence Grove in 1836 and Libertyville in 1837. In 1839, Libertyville was made the county seat and renamed Burlington until the county seat was moved to Little Fort (now Waukegan) in 1841. At that time, the Village reclaimed the name Libertyville.
The Burke Family monument in Lake View Cemetery, Cleveland, Ohio.
Oscar was the son of Gaius Burke (1791-1865) and Sophia Taylor (1795-1859) of Cuyahoga county, Ohio. His wife Martha’s parents were Gurdon Parke Meech (1771-1854) and Lucy Swan (1781-1867). Martha—the youngest in her family—and her numerous older siblings were all born in Bozra, New London, Connecticut. Sometime in the 1830s they removed to Newburgh, Ohio. Closest in age to Martha was her brother Nelson Trace Meech (1821-1879) whom she wished to join her in Illinois but census records suggest he remained in Ohio all his life.
The Burke’s apparently remained in Illinois for a time despite Martha’s homesickness. In 1850 they were enumerated in Waukegan where Oscar was employed as a teacher. By 1860, however, they had returned to Cleveland, Ohio, where Oscar was employed as the Secretary & Treasurer of the Cleveland & Mahoning Railroad Company. An obituary informs us that when Oscar died in 1902, he had become one of Cleveland’s “most prominent” businessmen. After several years at the Railroad Company, he purchased the a foundry and built it into the Lake Shore Foundry Co. He then became one of the founders of the Dime Savings & Banking Co. his estate was estimated to amount to $500,000 (close to $20 Million today) at the time of his death.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Stampless Cover
Libertyville, Illinois July 24th 1847
Dear Parents,
How to begin this letter or what to say, I scarcely know. But this much I do know, that if I write, I must commence and say something. In the first place I will give you a brief description of my journey.
We left Cleveland Wednesday afternoon about four o’clock. The Lake was quite rough and I was quite sea sick but not enough to vomit any. There were two Ladies from Buffalo that started from the Franklin House with us that were going to Chicago which I got considerable acquainted with which made it quite pleasant for me. After the first afternoon, the lake was perfectly smooth all the way and we had a very pleasant journey indeed.
We arrived at Detroit Thursday morning about six o’clock which is situated quite pleasantly. We remained here for about one hour. About 11 o’clock, we stopped on Canada side for wood and Oscar & myself, those two Ladies from Buffalo, and quite a number of other passengers went on shore and took quite a long walk so that we can say we have walked on Queen Victoria’s soil. After we had been on the Lake about 2 days, we came to a settlement of Indians where we saw them at work—some getting wood, and some were getting bark for the purpose of fixing their wigwams I suppose, which I assure you are singular looking things. The edge of the water was filled with bark canoes and the banks were covered with squaws and their children. Some had on their blankets and some were perfectly naked but they seemed to enjoy themselves very much. The children seemed to be amusing themselves with their bows and arrows while their mothers were looking on.
The next place of any account that we stopped at was Mackinaw. There is on this Island quite a number of curiosities. Among them is the Fort. The boat stopped here long enough to give the passengers time to take a stroll if they wished, which we improved. Oscar, myself, Mrs. Smith & sister from B[uffalo] went up to the Fort where we saw the guns and balls which were used in the last war. The place where the Fort is situated is very pleasant as you have a fine view of the Lake and it is kept so perfectly clean and nice—everything seems to be in such perfect order.
The next place that we called at was Sheboygan which is quite small. I saw James Kingsbury. He came on board the boat but I do not believe you would know him. I should not—he is altered so. I should think he was going down pretty fast. We arrived at Milwaukie Saturday evening which is the most business place for a new one on the Lake. We arrived at Racine in the night, at South Port also. Mrs. B. Doxstader and Mrs. J. Finegan came as far as Racine on the boat with us and they went it, I assure you. They went on shore at Milwaukee and the boat went off and left them but finally went back after them on account of Mrs. Finegan leaving her child on board.
We arrived at Little Fort [Waukegan] Sunday morning about 6 o’clock which is quite a pleasant place for a new one. There is a great many buildings being built but everything looks new. There is not many very splendid door yards as yet.
Sunday afternoon we went out to look at Oscar’s farm and on Monday we moved our goods out. We boarded at Mr Cook’s about a week and then went to keeping house or the house kept us. I think this is a very pleasant country for a new one. But I suppose you want to know if I have been homesick any and I assure you I have. Oscar went to Chicago and was gone two days and left me at Mr. Cook’s and Oh dear me, if you was ever homesick, you will know how to pity me. And if I was ever glad to see anybody, it was him when he got back. Mr. Cook’s family are very fine people but they were all strangers.
And now a word about my neighbors. I have one as near as Mr. Carter’s. Another as near as Mr. Kimal’s. In a word, they are near enough.
Monday evening. I had a call from Miss Paterson, my nearest neighbor, Tuesday evening. I had a cal from James S. Clark and Lady & Mrs. Swan, and yesterday one from Mrs. Harvey. I had an invitation to take tea at Mr. Cook’s yesterday but did not go. I have about made up my mind that this is not the place for me. Mrs. Swan & Mrs. Clark say we must make up our minds to stay here for they say the longer they stay, the better they like it, and well they might for they are all relation to one another. Perhaps if I had those which are near and dear to me but the ties of nature with me, I should like it better. This is a beautiful country but not home. If Nelson has any idea of ever going West, I want him to come here this fall and see this country. I think he will be well pleased with it as far as the couyntry is concerned. I am going to leave the rest for Oscar to say. Give my love to all and especially to P___ & Mich. Tell Desdamonia & Olive I want they should write and tell me all the news. From your daughter, — Martha
[in a different hand]
Dear parents, Martha has very kindly left a part of the for me to fill out. She has made you acquainted with our departure from Cleveland, our journey up the Lake, and of our arrival at our own home at which place we have been about a week. The country is a new one. Therefore our home at present is a new one but give it a few years improvement and it will exceed norther Ohio for beauty and scenery. But with all beauties of this country, it is not home. Martha has been homesick which makes it very unpleasant. We are well at present and have not heard of any sickness. The crops never looked better in any country than they do here this year. Illinois [paper torn]
We are both well at present, have heard of no sickness as yet. We have had some very warm weather but at present it is very cool. I hope we shall get a letter as soon as possible after you receive this. Remember me to all. Yours truly, — O. M. Burke
Mother, I want you to write to me. I would give more for a letter from you than I would for all Illinois. I want Nelson to write and tell me all the particulars about everything. Tell Father I should be glad to have him come in and take a smoke with me. I have thought of him and his large chair very often since I have been here. Give my love to all and more particular to Harriet and Lucy and tell them I should be very glad to see them. [I believe this margin note was added by Martha.]
The following letters were written by James Chauncy Lopus (1841-1897) who enlisted at the age of 21 to serve three years as a private in Co. F, 112th new York Infantry on 30 August 1862. He was discharged for disability on 28 October 1864 at Buffalo, New York.
Chauncy was the son of Francis Chauncey Lopus (1814-18xx) andRosanna P. Linnet (1810-1880) of Busti, Chautauqua county, New York. Chauncy was described at a 5′ 8″ farmer with blue eyes and dark hair when he enlisted in 1862.
Letter 1
Addressed to Mr. Francis C. Lopus, Chautauqua county, New York
Camp Suffolk, Va. January 24, 1863
Dear Parents,
Having a little time this morning, I thought that I would write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well & hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings. I have been on duty almost every day for two weeks. The details for fatigue have been heavy for some time on account of building rifle pits and finishing Fort Nancyman [Nansemond] & Union & slashing for the range of guns. I have been chopping for the last two days. There has bee some 150 out each day. That makes it quite musical to have them all together & there is some dodging to do to keep out of the way. There was one of the men in the Massachusetts 6th Regiment come very near getting killed with a tree. It struck him on the head and knocked him senseless. The timber was mostly pine and oak cedar. The pine was quite large.
The details for fatigue out of our company is 21 for camp guard, five for picket. Our Major General Peck [is] commanding the Division. The Sixth ARmy Corps has been expecting to be attacked for the last two weeks. The Rebel General Prior commanding the Black Water forces sent word to Peck that he was going to take the place on such a day but he has not done it yet. But they have been in large forces on the Black Water & it is reported that the movement of Burnsides Army is all that saved us from being attacked. But they would of found us fortified to the eyes. If I have time, I will draw a map of the fortifications and their location.
Today is Saturday. Tomorrow will be my turn for guard. We have to guard two camps—our old camp and the one where we now are. All there is at the old camp is logs that have been left in tearing down the tents. They are not worth a farthing but there must be a guard kept there. It is the Colonel’s doings. He thinks a private soldier ain’t much, but they have got feelings as a Colonel or any other officer and I hope the day is not long absent that we will be liberated from the tyranny of these shoulder straps.
This is not what men left their families—to be abused by these officers, They came to defend their liberties and what have we accomplished? Nothing in the least. Only an expense to the government and what benefit has the last 600,000 men been? When these was raised, they was going to be something done. The Rebellion was going to be put down. But what has been done? There was some of the last call in the Fredericksburg Battle and that was the greatest defeat of the war. Since that, the men have give up all hopes of the war ever being settled by fighting. The only talk is I am going to get out of it and I wished I was. But what will be done when the 9-months men’s time is out which is out in June or July, and also the 2-year’s men which will be out in June or July. There has got to be something done before that or never for there never will be so large an army in the field again. If we can’t whip them now, when can we? My only desire is to get out of it and let them [go].
The paymaster is expected today. I think we will get our pay in a few days. He has been here and paid off a part of them. I am looking for a letter every mail. Give my respects to all. Your affectionate son, — Chauncy Lopus
Letter 2
Camp Suffolk, Virginia April 17th [1863]
Dear Father & Mother,
As I came off of picket this morning and having a few spare moments, I thought I would improve them by writing to you to let you know that I am still in the land of the living and how goes the battle. There has not been any general engagement yet but there is some heavy skirmishing on all sides. The Rebels content themselves with skirmishing. Sometimes they get too near our forts for they have to skedaddle when they open on them. Yesterday they had quite a heavy skirmish on the south side of Suffolk. They drove in our skirmishers and picket and opened on our fortifications with artillery but soon our forts got range on them and soon compelled them to withdraw out of range of our guns.
Yesterday our regiment was most all detailed on chopping and digging. They dig night and day to strengthen our position. There is troops arriving every hour and also siege guns. The Rebels are hovering [over] us on three sides adn they are trying to cut off our supplies from Norfolk and I think they would be successful only for the gunboats on the Nansemond [river]. There is 7 or 8 on this little stream—one monitor. They carry guns of large calibre. They are shelling the woods on either side, five miles from the river. They are continually passing up and down the [river] to watch the enemy to see that he don’t obstruct the channel or cross the river and tear up the railroad.
Our force is estimated at from 40 to 50 thousand. By every appearance, there will be a heavy battle fought here within the next two days. The Rebels are using the railroad from Petersburg almost to Suffolk. We can hear the cars as they come and go. The Rebels is commanded by Gen. Longstreet. It is thought that they will fortify themselves and plant their siege guns, then shell us out, but that will be tested by the ones that have the longest range guns. There is some killed on both sides. There was one of our men killed yesterday and one of their that was found. Last night there was 20 men called out to strengthen their posts. Therefore I went for one, but it was quiet last night. Some of our Boys in our company come very near being taken prisoners. They was surrounded but cut their way out. One of them was David Broadhead, Vonomer’s [?] father.
I have had some close calls but as yet I have missed being hit. Father, today I sent $40 to you by Express. The captain is taking the Boys’ money and expressing the whole company’s money to the [ ] Bank so you can go there and get it. It will start today or tomorrow. It is not safe to carry much money at this period. The Boys are all well in this tent…
Our gunboats is shelling the woods this afternoon. Give my love to all. — Chauncey
Lt. Alfred Bergen Hutchinson of 5th N. J. Vols. (AI sketch drawn from tiny image on Ancestry.com)
These letters were written by Alfred Bergen Hutchinson (1840-1921), the son of George A. Hutchinson (1810-1885) and Ida Van Nest Bergen (1813-1851) of Trenton, Mercer county, New Jersey. Alfred enlisted on 19 August 1861 in the 5th New Jersey Infantry and was promoted through the ranks to 2nd Lieutenant of Co. D. When Alfred first enlisted, he entered in Co. E with his brother-in-law, Captain Henry Harrison Woolsey (1836-1864).
The 5th New Jersey Volunteer Infantry Regiment was organized at Camp Olden, Trenton, New Jersey, in July 1861, and was mustered in on August 22, 1861. It participated in a number of important engagements, including the Battle of Fair Oaks, Seven Pines, Malvern Hill, Second Battle of Bull Run, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the Wilderness, Spotsylvania Court House, Cold Harbor, and the Siege of Petersburg.
Alfred wrote all three letters to his younger sister, Sarah M. Hutchinson (1842-1897). Many more of Hutchinson’s Civil War letters can be found in the Special Collections of Chapman University. See Hutchinson & Woolsey, 1861-1888.
Letter 1
Addressed to Miss Sadie M. Hutchinson, Trenton, New Jersey
Camp near Falmouth April 14th, 1863
Dear Sister Sadie
This is a charming spring morning & I imagine I can see you all at Homedell walking about the yard, or some of you sitting in the house with windows hoisted. How I would love to be with you enjoying this splendid weather.
Last week we had a Grand Review. President Lincoln came down & reviewed several corps at the same time. I would give a great deal to have you see such a review. Although I have seen several Grand Reviews, it does not fail to awaken the ideas to the grandeur & vastness of the event. It takes hundreds of acres to give enough room for the troops. The ground is rather uneven & as far as we could see were the troops & flags—a perfect sea of men. You would hardly think there were so many men in the United States. The column passes the President by divisions front—that is, two companies abreast. In this way, regiment after regiment passes & hours are consumed or nearly a day passes & the one who reviews them is tired waiting for all to pass.
Your interesting letter came last night but I had been expecting it several days. You said you expected to hear of our moving every day. Your expectation will soon be realized for we are under marching orders. Our orders came this morning. Every officer & man are to carry eight days rations with them. What do you think of that? The men are ordered to leave nearly all their clothing with the Quartermaster & carry their rations in their knapsacks. The officers are to leave their extra clothing also & to carry their rations the best way they can.
The whole cavalry force left yesterday & also some infantry. It is expected that these forces will get in the rear of the enemy & then we will attack them in front. I hope we may be successful & capture & destroy the whole rebel force in Virginia. As we go out again, I feel the danger we must be subjected to, but God is my shield. I know if we call upon Him, He is ever ready to hear. His eye is upon us at all times, in prosperity and adversely, in security and in danger.
My chum, Lieut. Flannigan, will send on the order & his discharge & wishes father to draw his state pay & send it on by Adams Express. Put it in an envelope and direct it to Lieut. J[ohn] M. Flannigan, Co. K, 5th New Jersey Volunteers. Even if we move, the express company will keep it all safe until he calls for it. He wishes it sent without delay. Harry is well.
Now, dear sister, I must close. Give unbounded love to all the dear ones and I am as ever your own brother, — Alfred
Letter 2
[Camp near Falmouth] June 6th, 1863
Dear Sadie,
Yesterday our usual quiet was disturbed by receiving orders for a march. We packed up & the regiment formed line, then stacked arms in readiness to march at a moment’s notice. At night we received orders to take in our arms and be ready to move at daybreak in the morning. Morning came but we did not go & here we are now, waiting & not knowing what moment we will go.
Yesterday afternoon heavy cannonading was raging along the Rappahannock & our troops are crossing again. A part of the 6th Corps is over this morning. I hope & pray that we may meet with better success this time than heretofore. The crossing seems to be conducted about the same way it was last time. Part of the troops above and part below Fredericksburg. Now and then a cannon booms forth today showing that something is going on & that either one part of the other is not quite satisfied with the proceedings. I dare say we will cross in a day or so.
Hutch and Breasley were over here yesterday but they left rather abruptly upon hearing the army was on a move. When they left camp in the morning, all was quiet & their orders must have come in suddenly & must have started in a hurry for one of our men who had been over to the 6th Corps came home a little after noon & said the 6th Corps was crossing the river. Then Hutch and Breasley started in a hurry. They said their men did not want to go into another engagement & if called upon to go, threats of stacking arms were made as they think their time is out. They seem to think they will not go home before the 15th of June. Conn was well.
We were paid off a few days ago. I sent $80 home by Col. Cook, $30 to repay Marianna for that she sent to me by Harry. The $50 to be invested by father as he thinks best. Harry received encouraging news from Thirza a day or two ago. I sincerely hope she will continue to improve & if she goes out to Homedell, no doubt you all will soon be about again. I fear I will not be able to get home very soon as leaves of absence are not granted at all. However, perhaps after this move they will grant leaves again.
There is an establishment near our camp where they take Ambrotypes. Nearly all the officers of our regiment went over tis morning to get their pictures taken. I had mine taken. They are rather inferior work yet is it a pretty good picture after all, only I look so cross. A stranger would think me very ill-natured from my picture. I will send it on to you.
I received a letter from Annie V. C. yesterday. Harry is well. Before you receive this, we may be fighting desperately, or we may be in Richmond. With unbounded love to you all, I remain your loving brother, — Alfred
Letter 3
Brandy Station, Virginia January 2nd 1864
My dear sister Sadie,
Your delightful missive reached me this evening. It gave me great pleasure to hear that my loved ones at home were well and that they were all enjoying themselves to so great an extent. I think you all must have had a regular jubilee on Christmas. You certainly had presents in profusion. How I would have enjoyed being with you. I have been so very busy of late that I have hardly had time to eat or sleep. But today my most confining labors ceased. You know I am recruiting officer for Vetran volunteers. I gained fifty men & you ought to have seen the heaps of papers it took to muster these men. It seems to be absolute foolishness to make so many rolls, &c., but it had to be done & I did it. I feel richly remunerated for when I took the rolls up to the Division Headquarters today, I was highly complimented. The mustering officer said they were the most complete & neatest & best papers that had been made out in our whole division. I wrote nearly all CHristmas day but had time to partake of dinner for we had roast turkey. Almost all the officers were out of camp so Simon & I sat down and layed to & the proportions of Mr. turkey diminished perceptibly.
We live high on buckwheat cakes & sausage. We have everything necessary for our housekeeping apartment—bake iron, dutch oven, &c. Yesterday (New Years) we intended keeping open house, but we did not have satisfactory arrangements so we had New Years by ourselves until after dinner which was roast turkey again. After dinner, all the officers of our regiment excepting one, procured horses & away we went, a fine squadron of cavalry on a high horse to make calls. After dark we found ourselves in the camp of the 14th New Jersey, a full three miles from home. In every tent we visited, we were warmly received although it was utterly cold without & we were treated generously with hot punch, whiskey raw, whiskey sour, gin, brandy, cake, candy & varieties—especially of the drinking order. We had a grand old time. The fun was not in riding back to camp after midnight though. The roads were in a miserable condition, so rough that we were compelled to let our horses alk slowly the greater part of the distance & we all came near freezing. In fact, I did freeze one of my little toes.
The weather has not moderated yet for as I write, the ink freezes in the pen before it is transcribed on paper. I called on Gen. Mott the evening before he returned. He was pleasant & hospitable, more so than I ever knew him to be before. He gave me a synopsis of his visit home & all the news he possessed concerning Homedell. He had a tedious journey back, so many detentions. Col. Sewell is in New Jersey having been detailed as Superintendent of the drafting operations. I understand his headquarters are at Trenton. You must get a view of him. All of our men who reenlisted as veterans have gone home on furloughs of 35 days & we are somewhat lonesome. Six of my company have gone.
I judge from accounts reviewed that Conn is still favored with a goodly portion of your friendship, if I am forbidden to say love. He must have a lingering hope of retaining your heart yet or he would not continue his attempts. You say Ellie looks bloming this winter. How I would love to see her. Does she seem to have pensive moments at times while at our house? And you imagined she was thinking of me? Perhaps, could you look upon me at times, you might imagine the same thing & if you judged that I was with her in spirit, you would not be very far wrong. Ellie will not always be so reserved. When I come home to stay, she will change, I doubt not.
An order came out a few days ago stating that supernumerary officers could get a leave of absence of 35 days providing they would signify in writing their willingness to serve three years longer/ I think I might be called supernumerary now as I have only four men for duty, and receive the leave. But three years is too long a time to suit me to remain in Uncle Sam’s service, although 35 days at home just at this time is really a tempting bait. I will accept ten days leave in February & not bind myself further.
Sunday afternoon. I have just been re-reading your last letter & I must confess it makes me feel somewhat sober to contemplate the many pleasant times you are enjoying these holidays & here I sit missing all the fun. However, I am not cursed with a despondent or melancholy nature, than Providence, & am looking on the sunny side of events & let come what will. I’ll be gay & happy still.
It is quiet in camp today—too cold for preaching, but I have a stock of good religious papers on hand which afford a diversion of the mind from wars & rumors of wars, and besides, they are interesting, profitable, and pleasurable. So you see I am not entirely destitute. When does Harry expect to return. I hope (for his good & his wife’s) not this winter.
Sadie, will you please send me a ccatalogue of music for the pianom with the address of the firm. I want to send for some pieces to present to some of our mutual friends. It would be most desirable if you could procure one, from some firm in Philadelphia. I received a letter from Emily New Years day & took it as a precious present & the only one. In future I will be able to write oftener as the rush of business has subsided. I close by wishing you all a Happy New Year. Ever your fond brother, — Alfred
The following letters were written by Theron Treat (1839-1908), the son of Barzillai Treat (1807-1894) and Sophia Kingsley (1814-1898) of West Worcester, Otsego county, New York. He wrote them during the American Civil War while serving in Co. D, 3rd New York Cavalry. His service records inform us that he enlisted in late August 1864 and mustered out in early June 1865—a total of ten months. Enlisting a few days before Theron was his cousin, William “Lorenzo” Knapp, who no doubt had some influence on his decision to join the regiment and avoid the draft.
Theron datelined both of his letters from the detachment’s encampment near Pungo Landing, a flat farmland, marshy area along the North Landing River in southeastern Virginia, some 30 miles from Norfolk and east of the Great Dismal Swamp.
[Note: These letters are from the collection of Brandon White and were made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Letter 1
Addressed to Mr. Barzillai Treat. West Worcester, Otsego county, New York
In Camp at Pungo Landing [Virginia] December the 21st, 1864
Well, here I am, well and hearty, and hope that you are all well. I got your letter two or three days ago. You wrote that you heard that I was lame. All that I have been lame was two or three days in one of my legs and that was not as bad as I have had it at home. So you see that you have had all that worrying for nothing. You wanted me to write how I was. That I do every time [I write]. My health is a great deal better than I thought it would be in the army and I like it first rate.
We are in a good place now and shall stay here some time. There is nothing to do but a little guard duty and that is to keep contraband goods from going into the country where we don’t want them to go. We are within five miles of the line between the states of North Carolina and Virginia. Our people have held this part of the state for two years so there is no rebs in these parts. We buy all of the fresh fish that we want and all of the milk and all of the fresh meat and sweet potatoes that we want, and we have a first rate time.
Lorenzo and I have a log house of our own with a brick fireplace and a good bed and lots of blankets and we have things in style. You will laugh but it is true.
You wanted me to get a furlough but I don’t want one. I am a going to stay and see this thing through and then when the time is up that I enlisted for, then I shall come home for the war will be over in a short time and I feel a great deal more like a man here than I should at home, scared almost to death at the word, D-R-A-F-T. Tell the Copperheads that they will have to come when Old Abe says the word and [Gov.] Seymour can’t save them now for scared creatures—Oh! where is Little Mac?
Tell John Treat to raise a boy for it is war ties and he must do something for his country, and it may as well be that as anything else. There is not much news to write. The weather has been very nice. There has not been any snow nor much cold weather.
You wrote that you would send me a box if I wanted. I can get all of the things here as well and as cheap so there is no need of it. I have got some undershirts and all the stockings and all the clothes that I want and I have got the money to buy all that I want to eat. And half of the boxes don’t come through [anyway] so you see that it don’t pay. I think that Lorenzo is foolish to have one sent. Tell [brother] John to write to me in the next letter. Clara wrote that he had been sick. I hope he is well and seeing to the colt. The reason that I did not get a horse when Lorenzo did was he got his to Camp Stoneman and I did not go there. — Theron Treat
Letter 2
In Camp at Pungo Landing May 21st [1865]
I am well and hearty and so is Lorenzo. He is about ten miles from here. I came from there this morning. I went down there yesterday to see the boys that was there. There is about half of our company there. You need not worry one bit about either one of us. We are alright and in good places.
I got a letter from you dated the 29th and a paper the other day. I was down to Norfolk the other day and saw that Ram that our boys took at Richmond and the one that they took at Wilmington. They was a right smart sight, I recon.
Well, I think this war is about played out and I think the rebs are as tired as they need to be and well they might be. They have caught the murderer of old Abe and shot him and if anyone says they are glad old Abe is dead, they had ought to be served the same way. I don’t care who it is. And I should like to try them on with my carbine about three paces off. They are meaner than rebs and that is needless.
You wrote that Aunt Pitts was dead so you see that people don’t live always [even] if they ain’t in the army. I recon a man will live till his time comes, let him be where he will. As for having to go on a raid, I never had to ride twenty miles in the army at one time, so it ain’t very hard, is it? And you need not worry about the guerrillas for there ain’t any here.
I think some of the troops will be discharged before long and they may take it in to their heads to discharge us. Well, I don’t care much if they do. Well, John, how are you today? Well, I hope you must not work too hard but be a good boy and I recon I will bring you a stick of candy or something else. As for that yellow gal, she is too big to send in a letter.
The following letters were written by Algernon D. Hazard who served as a corporal in Company F of the 112th New York Infantry Regiment during the Civil War. He enlisted on August 30, 1862, for a three-year term. The 112th New York, known as the “Chautauqua Regiment,” was organized in Jamestown, NY, and fought in Virginia and South Carolina.
Algernon was the son of Caleb Hazard (1808-1895) and Mary (Hannah) Newberry (1819-1885) of Ellery, Chautauqua county, New York. Only five of Algernon’s letters are presented here. There are three other letters, two by Capt Joseph S. Mathews, and one by Chaplain William Lyman Hyde, both of the 112th New York Regiment.
We learn from the regimental history that Algernon was “seriously wounded” in the fighting at Cold Harbor on June 1, 1864. A diary that I transcribed in 2024 by James Stafford of Co. C, 112th, included the following entry for that day: “Wednesday, June 1, 1864—We marched nearly all day and were tired out but were ordered right into the fight and we charged with knapsacks on. Many of our noble boys fell dead and dying…” The letter by Capt. Mathews, however, remembers the date of Algernon’s wounding as June 2nd. Stafford’s diary reveals that there was heavy fighting on that day as well: “Thursday, June 2, 1864. This morning we were ordered out to the front and many were killed and wounded…”
At a field hospital near the front, Algernon’s right leg was amputated—his wound being just above the right knee. A few days later he was transported several miles to the 18th Corps hospital at White House Landing where he died shortly after his arrival. Perhaps the jostling of the ambulance wagon resulted in uncontrolled bleeding around the sutures.
Letter 1
Camp on Folly Island near Charleston, [S.C.] August 21st 1863
Respected Father,
Again I seat myself to let you know that I am well with the exception of a bile [boil] on my left ankle which is very painful. I have been excused from duty 4 days on the account of it. The weather here is quite warm (you would call it hot) but not much warmer than it was at Portsmouth. We had a little rain here twice.
There is firing on Morris Island nearly all the time. I hear that they have breached [Fort] Sumter and from what I know have no reasons to doubt it but as I said in my last letter, I ain’t allowed to write any news anything of what is going on.
Our duty here is pretty hard and there is a good many sick. There is over 100 a taking medicine of what is here—nearly one-fifth. There is nothing new here to write. I have received one letter from you since I have been here which I acknowledged in my other letter. It bore the daye of July 27th.
I have already wrote five letters which I have not heard from. One at Bower’s Hill, two at Portsmouth (one containing the check), and two since I have been here. I don’t know as there is anything more. Yours truly, — A. D. Hazard
Letter 2
Camp on Folly Island November 2nd 1863
Respected Father,
Again I seat myself to let you know that I am well. I saw Kingsley a few minutes ago. He is well and fat as a hog. There has been heavy firing for three or four days in the direction of [Fort] Sumter and it is rumored that they haveat last demolished it. With the exception of the firing on Sumter, everything runs smoothly. The company has to go on picket once in ten days and when they are in camp, they drill from 2 to 4 hours each day.
The weather is comfortably warm—not hot enough to be disagreeable—and is so we can sleep comfortably nights. Our regiment is rather sickly as usual and always will be till we have a different man for a head doctor. We have lost 26 by sickness and one killed since we have been here in this department.
The sutler sells things very high here. Apples 10 dollars a barrel—good and bad altogether by whole sale. Potatoes are $5 a barrel. Sweet potatoes $7 a barrel. Mackerel 40 cents a pound, 75 cents a quart for preserved blackberries. Everything else in proportion and some things a little more so. I still continue to help cook. How long I shall, I don’t know.
Mr. P. S. Kimball has got home. He will probably show his patriotism at election tomorrow. No more at present. Yours truly, — A. D. Hazard
Letter 3
Big Bay Island February 1st 1864
Respected Father,
I now seat myself to answer your welcome letter of January 8th which just came to this island by a dispatch boat. It had been miscarried some way because the one of the 15th I received day before yesterday.
This island is 6 miles long and we have the best water here that we have had since we have been in the service. I don’t expect to write any news for I have just mailed a letter. If I was there, they wouldn’t need to offer me 350 dollars town bounty only once unless I thought I could get more by waiting a little longer. I think the fighting part of this war is over mostly and unless I do happen to stop a reb ball, I can live as well in the army as anywhere.
I don’t think of anything else. Yours truly, — A. D. Hazard
Letter 4
Folly Island February 24th 1864
Respected Father,
I now seat myself to answer your letter of the 1st of this month which I received today. We are back to Folly waiting transportation to Florida. The regiment left here for Jacksonville yesterday and we shall go there as soon as there is a boat goes that way. I am well and tough as I ever was in my life. I don’t want you nor mother to trouble any about me because it won’t do me any good and will damage your health. I am able to paddle my own canoe as long as I am well. What I meant by saying to pardon that I shouldn’t have been here is that I should have been in some other regiment.
The shells which I spoke of is some that I picked up on Big Bay Island and if they come through, I want you to pay the Express on them and take them and take care of them till I come home—if ever I do. If I don’t, do with them as you like. I have seen Kingsley and got my things all right.
The shirts that I sent for you need not send unless you have started them. If you have started them, you can’t do any other way—only let htem come. They will find me some time sooner or later. As for sending money home this summer, I don’t think I shall send much if I am where I can buy my things to eat. I have wrote to the Paymaster General asking him to cancel my allotment and send me my pay all in money. He will do it without any doubt. Kingsley said you had some talk of buying a piece of land. If you do, I will help you to $75 a year till it is paid for.
(There is some talk of our regiment reenlisting when they have been in two years. What shall I do about it? I shall do just as you say. Still, I have a mind of my own. I think the best thing I can do is to enlist. Don’t let mother [ ] you read this.)
After you get this, you needn’t look for anything more from me till it comes. Direct as before. Yours truly, — A. D. Hazard
Our being mustered at Big Bay was of no use. Consequently I shan’t get any pay till there is six months due me.
Letter 5
Jacksonville, Florida April 1st, 1864
Respected Father,
I now seat myself to write a few lines. I am well and healthy as I ever was in my life. I have delayed writing for some days thinking I should get a letter from you but I have received none later than February 24th.
The weather is just comfortably warm with considerable rain and wind. The wind blows the sand so here some of the time so that it is more disagreeable than the snow is when the wind blows in the northern states. It is so sometimes that you can’t walk facing the wind.
Kingsley [John A. Kinsman?] has come to the regiment again. He looks healthy as I ever saw him. He got here night before last.
This morning about 4 A.M. the transport called the Maple Leaf was destroyed by a torpedo a few miles above here. The Maple Leaf arrived here night before last [31 March 1864] from Folly Island bringing on here the convalescent soldiers of our brigade and the whole of the camp and garrison equipage belonging to the brigade. She ran up to the dock and unloaded what soldiers was on her and then was ordered up the river with some more troops before she had time to unload the rest of the stuff, so we sent a guard of 10 men with her to take care of our part of the stuff. She made the trip [to Palatka] which she was ordered to and was coming back [when] the torpedo blowed her all to pieces back to the engine house. She sunk in three minutes. There was three negroes and two firemen drowned. The rest of the crew was saved but our tents, kettles, officer’s clothing, company books, regimental books, and so on are in about 18 feet of water. The officer’s clothing that is lost is undoubtedly worth 1,500 dollars.
Wreck of the Transport Steamers “Maple Leaf” and “Gen’l Hunter” on St. Johns River, Florida — Sunk by torpedoes
No more at present. From your son, — A. D. Hazard
Direct [to] Co. F, 112th New York Volunteers, Jacksonville, Florida
Please send me some stamps.
Letter 6
Addressed to Mr. Caleb Hazard, Sinclairsville P. O., Chautauqua county, New York
An AI sketch of Capt. Joseph S. Mathews (1832-1872) made from a grainy photograph on Ancestry.com
In the Field June 6, 1864
Caleb Hazard, Esq.
Dear sir, I regret to inform you that your son, Corporal A. D. Hazard of my company, was quite seriously wounded during a charge made by our regiment on the 2nd inst. and has suffered amputation of his right leg just above the knee.
Have just come from his side & a glad to inform you that he is in good spirits & more comfortable than could reasonably be expected. He will probably be sent home as soon as he is strong enough to travel. Very respectfully your obedient servant, — J[oseph] S. Mathews, Capt. Commanding 112th New York, 2nd Brigade, 3rd Division, 18th Army Corps
Letter 7
An AI sketch of Capt. Joseph S. Mathews (1832-1872) made from a grainy photograph on Ancestry.com
In the Field June 22, 1864
Caleb Hazard,
Dear sir, your letter of 16th inst. is just read and I hasten to reply. Having been in command of the regiment most of the time since June 1st and either fighting or marching constantly, I was unable to pay that attention to Corporal Hazard that I should under any other circumstances.
At the time I wrote you, I had just left him & found him so cheerful and feeling so well. I had no doubts in my own mind of his final recovery. The surgeon-in-charge of the hospital with whom I consulted was of the same opinion. Soon after my visit, all who could stand it to ride to White House were ordered away to make room for others of our poor boys constantly coming in and it seems the corporal’s ambition was greater than his strength for he died soon after reaching White House.
I am informed on good authority that his grave is plainly marked so there will be no difficulty in finding it at any future time. His effects were placed in a box & sent to you by Express. I presume, however, that many of them had been thrown away by him as men will not carry in their knapsacks on a long march only what is absolutely necessary. I hardly know what words of sympathy to offer you in this terrible bereavement for if Algernon was as good a son as he was reliable, true & faithful soldier, your loss is indeed very great.
I have watched his military career in the company closely & have always found him ever ready, of good habits, and attention to every duty. I never had to enquirer if any duty assigned to Corp. Hazard had been performed for I always knew it was done to the very letter. He stood high in my own estimation & was a favorite with his company and was first among the corporals that I should have promoted for he was in every way worthy of it. We shall miss him very much.
He fell but a few feet from me & I know he was doing his duty like a man.
Any assistance I can render you in procuring his remains will be gladly rendered as I cannot bear the thought of any of my brave boys sleeping in this accursed rebel soil if time or money will obtain their removal. Enclosed please find receipt of Express company. Also $3.25. With a heart full of sympathy, I remain very truly yours, — J[oseph] S. Mathews
Capt. Co. F, 112th NY Vols., 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, 10th Army Corps, Bermuda Hundred, Va.
Letter 8
Camp 112th New York Vols. Near Hatcher’s Run, Virginia August 20, 1864
Caleb Hazard, Esq.,
This letter was written by William Lyman Hyde, doubtless one of many that the chaplain of the 112th NY Infantry wrote to the families of wounded or killed members of the regiment.A book of the chaplains war time correspondence entitled, “Armed Only With Faith” edited by Donald Rutherford was published in 2015.Hyde also authored the regimental history.
Dear sir, yours of July 10th only reached me last week which is the reason you have not heard from me earlier. The money and account book and old papers were all that your son had with him. His knapsack was lost on the field of battle. The express receipt was for the little package which you received. It was put into the express by the chaplain at the hospital & the express company gave him the receipt. He gave me the money and the receipt which I in turn gave Capt. Mathews who sent them to you.
Your son was sent to the hospital at White House about a week after he was wounded—five days perhaps. His leg had been amputated and it was thought he was doing well. I told you in my last that I was not at White House when he died, but there was one of our men there—a Robert Jones of Co. H—who saw him as soon as he got there & was with him when he died. He called the Chaplain, Rev. Mr. Jones, chaplain of the I. H. Vols., to see him. The chaplain is now where I cannot reach him but will send your letter to him as soon as I can find out where he is.
The Co. H man says your son was very low when he got to White House. It is a hard, long ride from Cold Harbor there—the distance at least 14 miles and over a horrid rough road. He could not speak much above a whisper, and conversed but little, even with the chaplain. He told him he wanted him to send home his money & pocket book and gave him your name. Jones does not recollect that he said anything more. He was very weak and about an hour after getting to the hospital, he died.
He was buried by the regular attendants at the hospital and the place of his grave is marked. A plain board has his name, Company & Regiment on it at the head of his grave. You cannot get to this place of burial in October unless our troops occupy White House Landing again. But if our forces were there, it would be very easy to find his grave. It is by the side of many others buried from the 18th Army Corps Hospital. (We were in the 18th Corps then though we belong to the 10th.)
If the changes of war should next fall or winter take us to that locality, I could go with you to the very spot where his remains lie. I feel very sad when I think of Algernon and many others of our noblest, truest, young men who now sleep the sleep of Death. May God care for you in your sorrow and give you back your boy in Heaven. Very truly yours, — [William] L[yman] Hyde, Chaplain 112th N. Y.
The following letter was written by Josiah Shick (1832-1872), the son of Henry Shick (1803-1888) and Susan Brown (1804-1884) of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Josiah enlisted in Co. G, 119th Pennsylvania Regiment, in August 1862 and mustered out in June 1865. He was promoted from a private to corporal in March 1863.
Josiah wrote this letter to his brother-in-law, Rev. John G. Sands (1834-1916) of Chester county, Pennsylvania—a minister of the United Evangelical church for more than half a century. He was licensed to preach in March 1862 and labored on numerous circuits in Pennsylvania until he retired in 1907. He was married to Josiah’s younger sister, Mary Shick (1839-1917), in the late 1850s.
No comprehensive record of Josiah’s military service is available online; however, it is assumed that he served with the 119th Pennsylvania—often referred to as the “Gray Reserves”—throughout all of their engagements. The reserve brigade was a home guard unit formed in 1861, and in late 1862 many of its members joined the 119th Pennsylvania, seeing extensive service with the Sixth Army Corps. This regiment earned distinction for their exceptional resilience. They notably marched for 37 hours within a 24-hour period to arrive at the Battle of Gettysburg. Their participation extended to several significant battles, including Salem Church (or Salem Heights), their first serious engagement, which was described in detail in the following letter.
This image from the collections of the Library of Congress depicts the members of the 119th Pennsylvania in winter camp. The log houses covered with shelter halves are laid out in regular Army order with the stacks of muskets in the company streets. The group of men in the foreground appear to be playing cards to pass the time while several men in the background drink from bottles.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Rev. John G. Sands, St. Marys Post Office, Chester county, Pa.
Camp near White Oak Church, Va. May 17th 1863
Dear brother & sister,
This being Sunday and I have some spare time, I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am still in the enjoyment of good health, hoping that you are all enjoying the same great blessing. I have wrote home twice since I came back and up to this time have not had an answer to either of my letters. I heard through Martha that you are all well. I had a letter from her yesterday. She has got quite well again. I wrote home since the battle. John, I will tell you a little about our trip and would-be defeat as some would try to have it.
On the 28th of April we left camp with 8 days rations and marched toward the Rappahannock river below Fredericksburg, halted at dark, and lay down and was just about getting asleep when we was called up and orders given to move off as quiet as we could, march[ing] to the bank of the river. It was assigned to our Brigade [Russell’s] to be the first to cross the river and it had to be done in pontoon boats and in the dark at that. The boats was launched—22 boats was the number—and 40 men in a boat. The boats was all filled and the word was given to move off. All started at the word and in a few minutes we were rowed over. They was a heavy fog over the river so that we could not see but a few rods ahead of us so just as we struck the shore, the Rebels gave us two or three volleys of musketry and as soon as we could get up the bank, the fire was returned but [the] Rebels fled and our Brigade took possession of the rifle pits on the bank of the river and held them and protected the laying of the pontoon bridges. 1
In crossing, our regiment lost one killed and one wounded. The 95th Penn. Vols. lost 5 wounded. The 49th Penn. Vols. had two wounded. They was one Rebel officer captured and one soldier killed.
After the bridges was laid, some artillery [Battery D, 2nd US Artillery] crossed and was placed in position and one Division of the 6th Corps [Sedgwick’s] crossed and that was all that crossed at this point until Saturday night. Then all of the 6th Corps crossed, so one Division [Brooks’] held the place for four days. Most every day the Rebs would try to shell us out and we had to change our position several times and we lay in line of battle most all the time and we was called up as much as three times in one night.
Brooks’s division photographed by Andrew J. Russell on the morning of May 3. Brooks’s men are near the pontoon crossing; the Rappahannock River is in the background near the houses on the horizon. Later in the day, some of these soldiers may have been killed or wounded at Salem Heights.
On Saturday night we heard heavy cannonading. It was up on the right. We had all made up our minds as day dawned on Sunday morning [May 3rd] the fight [would] commence where we was and it did. The artillery was the first to open as soon as it got light, and it was the heaviest cannonading I ever heard. It fairly made the earth shake and was kept up until about 11 o’clock. Then a part of our Corps charged on the heights of Fredericksburg and took them with considerable loss on both sides. Our men had to charge up a steep hill. We did not take part in the charge for we had to hold a position at the time.
At two o’clock we passed through the City and a forlorn looking place it is. Every house is riddled with ball and shell. Saw two male citizens and 6 or 8 women looking out of the windows. I saw some hard sights as we passed through the town. Dead of both sides laying in the hot sun after a battle is over is the worst part—to see the dead and wounded. God grant that this war may soon come to a close.
Sunday about 5 o’clock we got into another fight. We marched some three miles beyond the City of Fredericksburg [on the Orange Plank Road], overtook a large force of the Rebs and we was near the first to get into it. The most part of the fighting was with infantry. We marched up to a woods and got engaged; then we was ordered in. So in we went the best we could. The woods was thick and full of underbrush so that we had [to] crawl in at some places. The balls was flying as thick as hail. We had not more than got through the thickest of the woods when the Rebs came out on us in three lines of battle and we were ordered to fall back out of the woods and in doing so, some of our boys was taken prisoner and some killed and many wounded. I got out safe, but how I got through such hail of bullets safe, I can’t say except that God protected me though safe and I have felt so thankful for His protection over me. 2
At one time I thought I would give up and be taken prisoner. Then I thought I might get hit before I could get out of the woods on their side so I risked the getting out on our side. The balls was cutting up the dirt about me and men falling all around me. The Rebs came out of the woods but was soon drove back by troops that was in line behind us. The fighting was kept up until dark, neither side gaining any ground that night. The wounded was carried off that night. Next morning our artillery shelled the woods but by some means the Rebs out-flanked us and Monday night we was compelled to fall back and recross the river at Banks Ford. We all got over safe at daylight on Tuesday morning. On Sunday, May 31st, we took part in two hard fought battles and marched some 5 or 6 miles.
On Tuesday it began to rain and rained for three days. On Friday, May 8th we took the line of march for our old camp at this place. We arrived here the same day at 5 o’clock, all very tired. But since we have been back, we have not had much to do so now we are pretty well rested. The weather has been very warm since we came back. Some think that the late battles have been a great disaster to our army. I don’t think so. Although it did not accomplish all that was expected it to do, it done well. Men that fought us on Sunday came from Suffolk and other places south. They brought all their forces from Richmond and other points. I think the Rebs loss much greater than ours. They lost some valuable officers. Stonewall Jackson is one of that number. There is no signs of a movement at this time. The loss in our regiment will number about 140. One third of that number, I think, is prisoners and the rest wounded and killed. They can’t account for more than 10 or 12 that was killed. I don’t think the killed will over reach that number.
I had a letter from [brother] Cyrus a few days ago—all well. I must close with love to all and hope to hear from you soon. I still remain as ever your affectionate soldier brother, — Josiah Shick.
N. B. Remember me to all at home. W. Epehimer came through the fight safe. His regiment lost 160 in all counting wounded and prisoners.
1 The 6th Corps was kept out of view as they started toward Franklin’s Crossing late Tuesday, 28 April. After dark, the men and pontoons were moved to the river from the cover of the woods 1000 yards back. Once at the river, the soldiers lay on their arms and waited. It was after 4 a.m. before 1200 men of the 95th and 119th Pennsylvania were loaded into the pontoon boats and rowed across the river. There were 45 men plus officers transported in each boat. It took only a matter of minutes for the men to scramble up the bank and into the rebel rifle pits once they landed. [Source: Chancellorsville 1863, The Souls of the Brave, page 98, by Ernest B. Ferguson]
2 It was the 119th and 95th Pennsylvania that were detached from the Brigade and hurried onward to overtaking the retreating Rebels from Fredericksburg on the Orange Plank Road. It was near Salem Church that they encountered Cadmus Wilcox’s 5 brigades of Alabamians and Georgians in force, posted in a woods, hidden from view. The Pennsylvanians were aligned in battle formation to the left of the road and with other troops, placed under the immediate command of General Sedgwick. The advance of Federals up the gradual slope to the red brick church was ordered about 5 p.m. They were quickly overwhelmed by a superior force, twice their number, and fell back with heavy losses, Union artillery firing over their heads as they retreated. [Source: Chancellorsville 1863, The Souls of the Brave, page 278, by Ernest B. Ferguson]
The patriotic letterhead of Josiah’s letter with his annotation, “Mother, this is the flag that we are fighting for.”
The following letter was written by Josiah Van Fossan (1835-1889), the son of David Van Fossan (1808-1862) and Melinda Fishel (1809-1881) of Wayne City, Wayne county, Illinois. Josiah was earning a living as a carpenter in Mount Erie, Illinois, was married and with small children when he enlisted as a private on 13 August 1862 to serve three years in Co. D, 87th Illinois Infantry. At that time, muster rolls recorded his height at 5’8″, his hair brown, his eyes grey. The regiment primarily served in the Department of the Tennessee and the Department of the Gulf, with actions in Arkansas (Helena) and Louisiana (Vicksburg campaign, Brashear City, 1864 Red River Campaign). Josiah mustered out of the service on 16 June 1865 at Helena, Arkansas.
Also serving with him in the same company and mentioned in this letter was his younger brother, David Van Fossan, Jr. (1843-1912). They both survived the war. Both of them were born in Columbiana county, Ohio, and came with their parents to Wayne county, Illinois, in 1851.
[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Jennifer Wood who is the great-great-great granddaughter of David Van Fossan, brother of the author. She made it available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Logan Shawneetown [Illinois] October 31st 1862
Dear mother & brother,
I sit myself down to inform you that we are well except David. He is very sick now with the fever. He went to the hospital the 3rd day after he got here. He had to stop on the road when he was coming down about 12 miles from here. I got a buggy and went after him and I hope when this comes to hand, they will find you and Alexander enjoying good health for that is the greatest blessing that God can bestow on us.
Mother, I have not much to write you at this time. If you’ans can get any way to come after David or can send after him, you have best do it. The Captain says he will give him a furlough to go home and stay till he gets well again. He is getting very weak and falling off very fast. This is a very good place for a man as long as he keeps well but it is a hard place for a sick man. I have had my health the best kind except a chill about a week ago but I went and got some quinine and stopped it right straight and now I am as fat and sassy as a lawyer.
I will tell you we was mustered in this morning for the draw of our money. We will draw two months wages now and the money goes well with us so as we can send it to our families so they can live and get along. I believe I have give you all the particulars but I want you to send for David if you can any way at all.
So I must come to a close for this time and write more the next time. I have so many to write to, I can’t write very often but Mother, I will write to you as often as I can. I want to hear from you as soon as you get this. Tell all the friends that I am well, Tell Jacob I would like to hear from him.
So no more at present but still remains your son, — Josiah Vanfostain
The following letter was written by Samuel Clarke Pomeroy (1816-1891), a man who was legendary in the historical lore of Kansas history. A biographical sketch of Pomeroy posted in the Digital History of the Kansas City Public Library gives us a summary of lifetime accomplishments. He and Jim Lane were the first two Senators from the State of Kansas—both rather controversial figures to say the least.
“Pomeroy spent nearly the first 40 years of his life on the east coast, where he went to college, had a brief career as an educator, and held various political offices. Born in Southampton, Massachusetts, in 1816, Pomeroy attended college at Amherst, Massachusetts, from 1836 to 1838. Following his collegiate career, Pomeroy worked as an educator in New York State for four years before returning to Massachusetts. Once back in the Bay State, Pomeroy held several political offices, including a term as a state representative from 1852 to 1853.
In 1854, Pomeroy started working for the NEEAC and relocated to Kansas, where he became politically and financially involved in the “Bleeding Kansas” dispute. He initially settled in Kansas City, Missouri, where he worked as a financial officer for the New England Emigrant Aid Society (NEEAC) by helping new migrants’ families find temporary accommodation in Kansas City so that the heads of household could travel into the territory and stake their claim. He also began to invest in townships in Kansas, and in 1855, held a significant stake in recently formed town of Osawatomie.
Pomeroy relocated to Lawrence in time to take part in several seminal Free-State events. He was captured while supporting the Free-State side during the so-called “Wakarusa War” of November and December 1855, which nearly resulted in an assault on Lawrence by 2,000 Missourians. He also served as the Chairman for the Lawrence Committee of Public Safety, a position that tested Pomeroy’s leadership skills, restraint, and political savvy…
An emblematic Northern émigré, Pomeroy found himself elected to represent Kansas as a senator upon the territory’s promotion to statehood in 1861. He had lived in Kansas for less than seven years when he was elected to the Senate, but he went on to serve in the body for more years (12) than he actually lived in the “Sunflower State.” During his years in Washington, he not only served as a senator during the Civil War, but also in the early days of Reconstruction. Notably, he served as campaign chairman for Ohio Senator Solomon P. Chase in his short-lived effort to contest the Republican nomination in 1864. Pomeroy also sponsored Senate Bill 392, which created Yellowstone National Park in 1871. After his aforementioned bribery scandal in 1873, Pomeroy spent the remainder of his life in the Northeast and died in Massachusetts in 1891.
Although he ended his political career in mild disgrace, Samuel Pomeroy remains an exemplar for all of the noteworthy aspects of Northern migration during the Bleeding Kansas period. He came to Kansas with the NEEAC, fought for Free-Soil, made a fortune in the railroad industry, and became a senator. When modern Kansans tell the popular, NEEAC dominated story of the birth of the state, they tell a variation of Pomeroy’s story, even if they have never heard his name.”
In the following letter, written in his own hand, Samuel Pomeroy wrote an acknowledgement for the receipt of money donated for the relief of Kansas settlers suffering through a severe drought. Ministers of all denominations from Kansas travelled back East to solicit donations for farmers whose crops dried up for the want of rain. This drought lasted from June 1859 to late 1860 and resulted in up to a third of the population leaving the state just prior to Statehood in 1861.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Office of Kansas Relief Committee Atchison, Kansas Territory February 19th 1861
Mr. J. Lofland,
Dear sir, with pleasure we acknowledge receipt of your remittance of thiirteen dollars for the relief of the sufferers in Kansas. We shall endeavor faithfully to use it for the purposes desired.
Please express to the kind donors the sincere and heartfelt thanks and gratitude of the any thousands dependent upon us for food, clothing and seed.
I have the honor to remain yours very truly, — S. C. Pomeroy
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