Anderson West was an 18 year-old “farmer” from Jackson County, Arkansas—presumably a former slave—when he enrolled as a private in Co. B, 11th US Colored Infantry at Fort Smith, Arkansas, for a period of three years. The original enlistment papers, signed by Capt. James M. Steele of the 12the Kansas Volunteers on 21 December 1863, made it official. The enlistment could only be official after Anderson was examined by a physician to determine that he was of sufficient physical fitness to serve. That duty was performed by Asst. Surgeon Alijah D. Tenney (often spelled Tenny) of the 1st Kansas Colored Volunteers who described Anderson West as a 5’4″ tall Black man with “black eyes, black hair and a dark complexion.”
Though Anderson may have been healthy when he was examined by Dr. Tenney, we learn from his muster roll records that a month later, on 26 February 1864, Anderson was taken to the General Hospital at Fort Smith and that he died there on 9 March 1864. His cause of death was described as “Febris Remittent.” His clothing withdrawal account records are consistent with his enlistment date of 21 December 1863.
The officer signing the Volunteer Enlistment papers was Captain James M. Steele (Lawrence, KS) of Co. E, 12th Kansas Volunteer Infantry. The regiment was formed in September 1862 and spent much of its early deployment guarding the Kansas-Missouri border. In 1864, the 12th Kansas transferred to Arkansas, where Co. E actively engaged Confederate forces and operated out of Fort Smith.
The following images were downloaded from Fold3 which are consistent with the above enlistment papers of Anderson West.
Pip: Every letter in this episode was written by someone who had no idea if it would be the last one — and Griff has been collecting them anyway, one careful transcription at a time.
Mara: That's the thread running through this episode. We're looking at infantry letters from the front lines, and a shorter segment on cavalry and artillery correspondence — voices from the field, the siege lines, and the garrison forts.
Pip: Let's start with the infantry.
Infantry Letters From The Front
Mara: The question this segment keeps circling is a simple one: what does a soldier actually write home about when the war is right outside the tent?
Pip: And the answer, it turns out, is chestnuts. The unidentified Louisianan Zouave writing from Camp Rightor near Yorktown in November 1861 sets the tone early, describing camp life with genuine warmth.
Mara: He writes to his "Dear Lou": "We have fine times roasting Chestnuts by our camp fires at night, smoking our pipes, spinning yarns, &c. — some fun practical jokes and occasionally a little row just for excitement."
Pip: So the upshot is that even on the Virginia Peninsula, in a unit doing picket duty along the Warwick River, the dominant mood in this letter is cheerful domesticity — a flourishing village, merry men, not twenty sick in the whole battalion.
Mara: Which makes it a useful counterweight to the letters from Frank Fletcher Rice, the young Vermont soldier whose correspondence runs from late 1862 through 1865. Frank enlisted at what was likely fifteen, and his letters to his mother and sister track the full arc — from cracking walnuts on picket duty near Alexandria to a late-war letter from Cloud's Mills still owed two hundred and sixty-six dollars in back pay.
Pip: Frank's letters have a quality the Zouave's doesn't — you can watch him growing up in real time across the pages.
Mara: By January 1863 he's writing from Camp near Fairfax Court House: "I think what I have see has learned me a good lesson and now I think if I was where I could enjoy the comforts of a good home as I had, I should be perfectly willing and contented to stay there."
Pip: That's fifteen years old doing philosophy by firelight.
Mara: Richard Welling Burt writes from a very different position — he's a first lieutenant of the 76th Ohio, twenty-two days into the Siege of Vicksburg in June 1863. His letter home describes earthwork construction, a man shot through the neck who asks "Who wouldn't be a soldier?", and five Tennessee deserters coming over to the Union camp.
Pip: The deserters reporting that Confederate officers claimed the Union had only six days' rations — while Burt is eating an excellent supper — is a small masterpiece of wartime information asymmetry.
Mara: Lewis Low's letters to his brother John run from Memphis through Sherman's march and cover more ground than almost any other collection here. He's writing about farm speculation in Minnesota, Spencer repeating rifles, a woman in Poynette he won't name directly, and by the final letter from Lowville in March 1865, he's home on furlough with a wife and a plan for the family farm.
Pip: Harmon Trask writing to his sister Calista from Memphis adds another register — shorter, more personal, asking her to go to school on his dime and urging her toward faith with real feeling.
Mara: And the earliest letters here, from Charles Barrett, Frank Parcher, and Edward Gammon of the 5th Maine, written in July 1861 from a camp on Pleasant Hill Farm, capture a moment before the weight of it all had settled in — Lincoln riding past, a balloon overhead, letters prized above gold.
Pip: Benjamin Nicholas writing from Fort Gaines in 1862 rounds it out — he includes a hand-drawn sketch of the earthwork fort, notes that someone stole his postage stamps, and asks his sister to write more often.
Mara: What connects all of them is that the letters are doing two jobs at once — reporting the war and maintaining the thread back home. The cavalry correspondence gives us a different angle on the same effort.
Cavalry And Artillery Correspondence
Mara: Martin Baxter of the 3rd Ohio Cavalry writes from camp near Corinth on May 28, 1862, the morning after his regiment's first skirmish, and captures the particular tension of waiting.
Pip: He'd just seen two rebels killed in a cavalry charge, returned to camp, and then sat down to write home while the artillery opened up around him.
Mara: His words: "The big guns are a booming today about as fast as you can count. I expect that the battle has opened this time which I hope that it will terminate in our victory. Our horses are all saddled, ready for a moment's warning."
Pip: What this gets you is the strange simultaneity of the Civil War letter — the man is writing and the guns are firing and both things are equally real.
Mara: Joseph Vail's 1864 letter from the Gayoso House in Memphis is a different kind of document entirely — he's writing to his father while facing a court martial he insists he's innocent of, composing six careful pages from a luxury hotel while his regiment scouts along the railroad without him.
Pip: From chestnuts at a campfire to a court martial at the Gayoso House — the mail carried everything.
Mara: What stays with you across all of these is how much the letters were doing — keeping families intact, processing fear, making plans for after.
Pip: And most of them got home. The next episode will tell us what else did.
The author of this letter only signed it with the initial “C” so I can’t be certain of his identity but I suspect he was a member of Richtor’s 1st Special Battalion, Louisiana Infantry—a short-term unit that was formed near New Orleans and sent to the Virginia Peninsula to conduct picket and garrison duty at Young’s Mill and the Warwick River line near Yorktown. The unit was initially led by Lt. Col. Charles D. Dreux and then by Major/Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas H. Rightor.
Whomever penned this letter was a well educated soldier, most likely an enlisted man given the nature of his duties. His spelling and grammar was well above par.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Rightor [near Yorktown, Va.?] Sunday evening, November 10, 1861
Dear “Lou,”
Since writing you last Sunday I have spent a very pleasant week, although I have had some very hard work to do—cutting and piling logs, loading wagons, &c. everyday until 2 o’clock when we return to camp and work on our houses. We have several completed and ready to move our furniture into. The one for our mess will be completed about next Saturday if we can get the boards for roofing, flooring &c. I hope we will get through soon as it is becoming colder every day. Have had two severe hail storms this week—one night before last when I was on guard. Oh! gracious how it did pelt me about the face—worse than romping with “Lou.”
“Camp Rightor” is a very lively place now—all hands as busy as bees. It begins to have the appearance of a flourishing village. You would be surprised to see with what haste some of the boys build their cottages. There is nothing like health and employment to make men cheerful. All hands seem merry and contented. There is not more than twenty men in the whole battalion sick—old cases of chills & fever. We gather great quantities of Chestnuts, Chinquapins & Persimmons in the woods near the camp. They are very fine. I wish I could send you some. We have fine times roasting Chestnuts by our camp fires at night, smoking our pipes, spinning yarns, &c.—some fun practical jokes and occasionally a little row just for excitement.
Received two papers from you last night of 21 & 27th October. Glad to hear that the Confederate Picnic succeeded so well. Hope you have a pleasant time. In my last I forgot to mention that I had received the article with white fringe as well as scarf, &c. Will try and have some fun with the night cap. We have a mess mate that is rather old maidish in his manners that I christened Mrs. N—-a a long time ago and is now known through the camp as “the old lady” 9he is now absent from camp). When he returns, I will put it on his head some night when he sleeps. Imagine his surprise when he discovers it.
With best wishes for your prosperity. I am as ever yours, — C
The following letter was written by 1st Lieutenant Richard Welling Burt (1823-1911) of Co. I, 76th Ohio Volunteer Infantry. Richard mustered into the regiment in October 1861 as a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. G. He was promoted to 1st Lieutenant of Co. I in January 1863. He was wounded at the Battle of Resaca on 14 May 1864 but recovered and was promoted to Captain of Co. H prior to mustering out in July 1865.
Richard was the son of Foght Burt 91799-1886) and Elizabeth Welling (1803-1877) of Coshocton, Ohio. He was married in 1848 to Malona Evans (1826-1873). He was the editor of The Coshocton Age, “but shortly before the breaking out of the Civil war he removed to Newark and afterward enlisted in the old 76th Regiment, which was composed almost exclusively of Licking county men. He served throughout the war and was a gallant soldier.”
The Pentagraph of Peoria Ill., says of the death of Captain Burt: “Captain Richard W. Burt, one of the oldest and most prominent residents of Peoria, a veteran of the Mexican and Civil wars, died suddenly at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Julius S. Starr, 111 West Armstrong Avenue, Saturday, July 8, aged 89 years. Capt. Burt was twice married, his first wife dying in 1872. At the death of his second wife, in 1891, he took up his residence with his daughter, Mrs Starr and continued a member of that household until his death. He was a man scrupulously honest and honorable, gentle, kindly and brave, and his death is being mourned by the entire community. The flag on the government building flys at half mast in his honor, a tribute that is peculiarly fitting to a man who loved his country with exalted fervor and twice offered his life for its defense.”
Siege of Vicksburg, 22nd day of siege June 9, 1863
My Dear Wife.
While engaged in eating an excellent supper last night, our Orderly Sergeant brought me a letter from you of date May 31st, finished June 1st. It was an excellent letter—such an one as it does a soldier and loving husband’s heart good to read, and I hope you will not weary in writing and sending these joy-inspiring missives. By the blessing of our Heavenly Father, our lives have been preserved during twenty-two days of the siege. Neither Philip, Jairus or myself having got even a scratch.
We keep throwing up earthworks every day and night to make us more safe from the enemy’s missiles of death. I have done a great deal of work myself with the pick and shovel to make the Captain and myself more secure from danger, and I am constantly urging it upon the boys in our company to do the same. I regard it as recklessness and foolhardiness not to do so, but there are some so reckless and lazy that they use no such precautions. Yesterday a fine young man of our company was shot under his left eye and the ball came out of the back of his neck. I feared that it was a fatal wound, but here is hopes of his recovery, and he is in good spirits. And when the captain went to see him at the hospital, he remarked, “Who wouldn’t be a soldier?” There was a low place in the rifle pit which I had spoken of several times, but the boys kept neglecting to do the work necessary to make themselves safe and which would have saved poor Jarman from being wounded. 1 Last night they went to work and threw up the earthwork.
We still remain on the same hill we first occupied and are still besieging the enemy. The 25th Iowa are between us and the river and some of them behind a mound of earth so close that they can throw stones in the enemy’s works. They think they can roll a shell into the enemy’s water battery and are going to try it. It is the one that we are in the most danger from and I hope they may succeed.
We sent to Young’s Point for our tent and trunks and they came to hand yesterday. We have got our tent up and slept in it last night—the first time we have slept in a tent since we left Milliken’s Bend more than a month [ago]. I found a cot that had been left behind in one of our camps on our march, and I had it brought along on the cart we hauled our baggage on, and I have it fixed up so that it makes the best bed I have had since I have been in the army, I believe I described our kitchen to you in a former letter. We have a place dug out of the side of the hill for our tent, near the kitchen, and out of range of the enemy’s sharp shooters.
So you see we are getting along very comfortably right here in sight and within talking distance of the enemy. Five deserters came over to our camp night before last—all Tennesseans. They don’t think the Rebs can hold out long. Their officers keep encouraging them by telling them that we have only 6 days rations and that our supplies are cut off. I think we shall be in Vicksburg by next Sunday, but it may be not for three weeks.
We hear that Banks has them surrounded in the same way at Port Hudson, and is besieging them.
Danny Miskimen visited me only a day or two since and had not been taken prisoner as reported but his regiment has since been up to Memphis with prisoners taken at the battles in the rear of Vicksburg. Either Jairus or me write to you every two or three days and if either of us meet with any harm, you will be immediately informed of it. I will write some to Isaac on another sheet. Remaining as ever your loving husband, — R. W. Burt
1 William S. Jarman served in Co. I, 76th IVI.He survived his wound and lived until 30 June 1926. He died at East Hartford, Connecticut.
A post war image of Harmon J. Trask, veteran of Co. K, 8th Iowa Infantry
These letters were written by Harmon J. Trask (1843-1912), the son of Israel Trask (1804-1844) and Sophia Mallory (1818-1854). Israel and Sophia emigrated from Ohio to Fulton County, Illinois, from which place they removed to Jefferson township, Louisa County, Iowa, in 1837. Harmon’s three siblings were Emily Bly Trask (b. 1836), Cornelia Evangeline Trask (1840-1915), and Calista Sophia Trask (1844-1912). Emily married George W. Hook in 1854. Cornelia married Roseberry M. Wilson in 1862. Calista married William H. Prouty in 1867.
Harmon was also born at Wapello. He married Elizabeth Weber on November 2, 1878, in Newton, Kansas. They purchased land in Macon Township, and also in Newton Township. Prior to this, Harmon served five years in Co. K, 8th Iowa Infantry. He was a survivor of the Lewisville, Alabama Confederate Prison, where he was taken after his capture at the Battle of Shiloh. They had one daughter, Elsa, and a son who died as an infant. Elsa was graduated from Bethel Academy, later marrying V. E. Duncanson. They had one son, Lowell, and they lived in San Bernardino, California.
Letter 1
Camp Near Black Water [Mississippi] July 25, 1863
Dear Sister,
I received your letter a few days ago written the 29th of June & was glad to hear that you were all well &c. &c. I am hardy as a buck & Seth Strand [Stevans?] came from the hospital today. He is well &c. &c.
Cornelia, we have fine times a gathering peaches. We have all we can eat or use in any shape or form. I made $4.50 yesterday and today gathering peaches and selling & we have to go about two miles for them.
I wrote you a letter while we were at Jackson [Mississippi]. We had fine times chasing old [Joseph E.] Johnston & if he had of stayed there in Jackson two days longer, we would of had his entire army but we got a great many as it was.
And yes, I heard about that & I was shocked when I heard of it for last summer when I heard she was going with him, I wrote to her and tried to persuade her to not have anything to do with him & she said that she would not have anything to do with her but it appears as thought thought I knew nothing about him.
I will bring this to a close for I want to write a few lines to Calista. You need not send any paper now for I have got my knapsack now and have got a plenty.
But when we start off on a march, we leave everything behind so as to be as light as possible. No more. Write soon. — H. J. Trask
Sister Calista,
I have wrote you one letter since I have not heard from you. I wish you was here to help me eat peaches. We have some of the best peaches I have eaten for a long time. Calista, Saturday will be my birthday & shall sister: would like to know whether you are going to school or not. If you are, I will send you some money for we will get our pay shortly. Please go for me. I will pay the bill.
Goodbye. — H. J. Trask
Letter 2
Memphis, Tennessee August 28th 1864
Dear Sister,
This is Sunday evening and “all quiet on the Potomac,” I guess, for it did not make more than his salt in that raid [on Washington D. C.].
I received a letter from you yesterday & one the day before. They both surprised me although I was glad to hear that you was all well for I was afraid I would hear some had sickness. I hope none of them will take any back set. I got a letter from Rhoda about a week since. She took it pretty hard about leaving her babe. If I ever see its daddy, he will go the same road if it costs me my life. I wrote her a letter two or three weeks ago. Hard I are her Hale Columbia. [?]
I would like to have you come down here but I would be afraid you would get hurt coming down for the guerrillas frequently fire into the boats. One of our boys has is wife here & is keeping house. Tell Cornelia she might throw a load of melons in the river and let them float down.
Frank Bros is here in town. I saw him yesterday. He is hearty as I ever saw him. He said that the boys in his regiment were well & going to Atlanta. Our Brigade and Devision has started for Atlanta. Been gone two or three weeks from here. Tell Blade I will be his grandfather as long as he lives if he will be so ever lasting obliging as to step so high and stoop so low as to write me a few lines.
I am sorry to say that I cannot accommodate you but I think we will get pay about the 15th or 20th. Borrow some of Mosier until I can send you some. I know he will let you have it. Edgar just came in. He was out to the 45th Iowa. He says they are all well. Marshall and Sam are a going to come to [ ] after they go home.
Well, supper is pretty near ready and I will have to close or they will get the start on me. This leaves me in good health. Write soon. Your brother, — J. J. Trask
Well, Sis, I have eaten my supper and feel some better since I ate a bit of supper. You need not be afraid for me showing my lettrs. I have no trouble reading your writing. I can read your writing better than I can my own. I don’t expect you can read it for I have such a poor pen and I always get in such a hurry after I get a letter half written. Your letters comes here from three days, the most of them from 5 to 7 days. No more at present. As ever, your brother, — H. J. Trask
A private in the rear ranks, Co. K, 8th Iowa
Letter 3
Memphis [Tennessee] January 15, 1865
Dear sister Calista,
I will try to write you a few lines to let you know that I am still a kicking. I received a letter from you yesterday. Am sorry to hear that you was all sick with colds. I can’t see that I was down-hearted any when I wrote you last.
This is the Sabbath day & I am on patrol. How I wish you was here. We have very nice weather here the most of the time. Today seems like the break on Spring. We will hardly have anymore cold weather here.
Col. [James L.] Geddes has got back. He has been at home for two or three months. We heard that he had resigned but he came back the other night & everyone was looking for him. He says he is going to stay with us till our time is out & they are going to build barracks for our regiment here in town and we will having nothing to do but patrol the town &c.
You said you would like to know who my duck is. She don’t live many miles from Blackhawk but she is now getting better. She has had the typhoid fever. I believe doesn’t care. They think about Netty. I don’t believe he ever thought a great deal of her.
I am glad to hear that you can have meeting at Tooleshard ___ more. Hope they may have good success for God knows that the people there have led far astray from the commandments and our father which art in heaven. You say that you don’t know but what you will join the church. If you do ever strive to serve our father in heaven & never be led astray from the path of God for remember, dear sister, that we had a father & mother in that blessed land above and I want to meet them there & I hope you & Cornelia and Emily will strive to serve God. Pray to him. He will answer prayers for he has said so.
I will bring my scribbling to a close. Don’t think that I was crying when I wrote this for I was not. Don’t expect you can read this for I always get in such a hurry. Excuse all mistakes from your brother until death.
The following letter was written by Martin Baxter (1835-1915) of Co. A, 3rd Ohio Cavalry. Martin was born in Tioga county, New York, but was living in Fulton county, Ohio with his parents when he enlisted. He wrote his letter on 28 May 1862 from their camp near Corinth, describing a skirmish they had the day previous, and announcing the cannonading of the 28th—events that were described in more detail in the regimental history as follows:
“On May 27th we went with a force of cavalry and infantry to the left and rear of the Rebel lines did not find the enemy in much force. May 29th, during the night, we heard many explosions in the direction of Corinth, and the illumination of the sky was more than ordinarily bright, indicating that something unusual was going on. We were early in the saddle and moving toward the town. We came to the outer line of works and found them abandoned. The works were very strong. At every point where artillery could be advantageously posted forts had been constructed. The woods in front of their fortifications had been cut down, and all the branches trimmed so that they pointed toward the front. In places where there was no timber they had constructed abatis, using for that purpose everything available telegraph poles, sharpened stakes, small trees, fastened together with telegraph wire, and a net-work of wire woven through the fallen timber, so that it would have been almost impossible for the infantry to get through. But they had concluded not to risk a battle. We marched into Corinth and found the town practically abandoned by the white population. Only tthe old mem, the women and the children were left. Most of the people we saw were negroes.”
As a curious side note, Martin was married to Ellen Carl Dudley (1828-1908) in 1864 while he was in the Veteran Reserve Corps. She was born in franklin, Kentucky in 1828. During the Civil War, “without army status or title, backed by no organization, she persisted fearlessly and with inexhaustible energy in her mission of caring for the sick and wounded soldiers in need of help.” [Source: see Martin Baxter on Find-A-Grave]
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp near Corinth May 28, 1862
Dear Parents,
It is with pleasure that I pen you a few lines to let you know that I am enjoying a comfortable degree of health at present and hope that this will find you enjoying the same blessing. As I had a few leisure moments, I thought that I would pen you a few lines so as to keep the news a going to you. I should think that you ought to heard from us as much or often as once a week or two certain. There is not much news to write as I have just written to you last Sunday, I think, and wrote all the news that there was at that time. But I will write all the news there is.
Our regiment received a marching order. On double quick we were mounted at four o’clock in the morning and started with three days rations. We was marched over to our inspection ground where [we] formed right into line. Then there was two other cavalry regiments fell in our rear and then we was ordered t march. We marched out about twelve miles which brought us on the right of Corinth or back to. We was ordered into line again where we got our orders for a skirmish. We were marched out in the woods where a regiment of infantry was in front.
The general gave orders for our company to take the left wing and Co. M the right. We were soon formed. The Battalion Major, which was John Foster, came around and told us to look at our arms and see that they was sure fire. I begun to think that we had got something to do. Well there was five regiments of cavalry and one of infantry so that made a pretty strong force for us. I thought that it would take a few of them secesh to rout us. The infantry was ahead and the cavalry in the rear.
The order was given to march so off we started. Our company had to march through the woods as scouts [and] keep in sight of the main body. Well I thought that I had been in thick wood but that was ahead of my time. The most of the time you could not see ten rods ahead of you. I thought that if there was any rebels there, they could pick us [off] quite handy. Well, we advanced about two miles ahead of our picket line before we see anything. There was a squad of cavalry was a going to make a charge on our infantry and our cavalry let out on them and made them retreat in a hurry. There was two of the rebels killed. We were about two miles from the Corinth Railroad and then we was ordered back to camp where we arrived about five o’clock p.m. That is all of that skirmish. That is my first.
The big guns are a booming today about as fast as you can count. I expect that the battle has opened this time which I hope that it will terminate in our victory. Our horses are all saddled, ready for a moment’s warning. they have to be saddled every day and kept on all the time except at night. I suppose that you will hear more about the battle than I can write so goodbye this time. This from your affectionate son, — Martin Baxter.
Direct to Pittsburg Landing
James is with General Nelson, a body guard. His health is not very good.
P. S. Please send me some stamps as soon as you can for mine is most gone. If I should survive this battle, I want you to write to me.
The following letter was written by Benjamin Franklin Nicholas (1847-1911) of Co. G, 10th Rhode Island Infantry from Fort Gaines—an earthen fort northwest of Washington D. C. in Maryland. At the time he wrote the letter, his company had occupied the fort for nearly a month. Other companies of the regiment occupied other forts in the Washington defenses, some of which were sketched in the Regimental History, but this letter includes a hand drawn sketch of Fort Gaines which I have not seen before. The only photograph taken within the fort is seen in the header of this post, attributed to Matthew Brady.
Benjamin wrote the letter to his sister, Almira Morton Nicholas (1843-1904)—“Sissy”—who was married to David T. Atwood of Providence, Rhode Island,
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to David T. Atwood, Providence, R. I., In care of Franklin Foundry Machine Co.
Fort Gaines 1 July 29, 1862
Dear Dave and Sissy.
I think it is about time for me to write to you here. I have written to almost everybody but you.
We had a flag raising here yesterday and we had a gay time. I send you a picture of the fort. It is as good as I can draw. They are going to alter the [fort] for they are going to take away M and build a parapet in its place. And they are going to take away the cook house G and carry it outside of the fort and put a heavy gun in its place.
We fired the guns yesterday 13 rounds. The 71st [New York State Militia] was moved across the road. Fort Slocum—a few miles from here, was attacked the other night by a party of guerrillas, about 50. They was on horses. There was one of their side killed but they carried him off. They was fixing the fort and the stockade was down the same as M on our fort and they thought they could get in and surprise the camp and spike the guns and burn the gun carriages and then leave. But they didn’t come it.
You will see that this letter is franked. I have not only got a 50 cent piece. Some one went to my box the other day and took all my paper and postage stamps and that left me without any. George is mad with me but never mind. I get chums with him before we come home.
Sissy, I want you to write to me. I have not had a letter from you or Dave for a long time. But I must close. From your brother, — Benjamin F. Nicholas
P. S. Excuse this writing.
1 Fort Gaines was established in August 1861 as an earthen fort with a perimeter of 171 yards and emplacements for six guns. It was located near Ward Circle in Northwest Washington D. C.
This letter was written by Joseph Randal Vail (1840-1875) of Marshall County, IL who enlisted in the 47th Illinois Infantry as a corporal, and eventually became the regiment’s adjutant before his 1864 discharge. The letter was once a part of a more complete collection of his letters that discussed fights with the Rebels at Corinth, Vicksburg, and Lake Chicot, Arkansas. For example, writing six days after Corinth, he was impressed with the Confederates: “Their energy and determination, even among the privates, is worthy of emulation in a better cause.” He was less impressed with his own army’s chaplains: “Laying around hotels smoking cigars, or in the shade sipping wine, when thousands of men in agony cry aloud night and day all around them for help, a little care, a drink of water! God pity them” (10 October 1862). His regiment fought valiantly in the failed assault on Vicksburg: “Generals & all who witnessed the charge of the 11th & 47th call it magnificent, gloriously done, but that is poor remuneration to our poor fellows who have lost legs & arms by the move” (23 May 1863). The regiment also played a central role in the small Battle of Lake Chicot: “The fire was terrible for nearly two hours, but there was no flinching, no attempt to retreat from that close range shower of grape, shell and canister” (11 June 1864). In addition to the discussions of combat, Vail also offers strong opinions about military politics, from the regimental level up through the highest ranks. He hopes General Banks is named Secretary of War–“Put him anywhere but in the field” (2 May 1864).
Joseph wrote this letter to his father from the Gayoso House in Memphis—a large luxury hotel overlooking the Mississippi river that served as the primary headquarters of the Union occupying force in Memphis throughout most of the Civil War. We learn from the letter that Joseph was facing a court martial for some unnamed offense that he felt totally innocent of, and though he claimed it did not upset him, he devoted the better part of six pages discussing it. His military record reveals that he was honorably discharged suggesting the charges were either dropped or he was vindicated. But his troubled mind apparently haunted him into civilian life for his obituary informs us that he committed suicide at Castleton, Stark county, Illinois on 9 August 1875 by severing both his jugular vein and windpipe. He left the following note: “Please deliver my love to father and family. Tell them to despise me. Fontron [his employer], I have done you great injury. Please give father all my papers you will find in my trunk. — Joseph R. Vail” [see Joseph Randal Vail on Find-A-Grave]
Over the last 20 years I have transcribed a number of letters by member of the 47th Illinois Infantry. They include:
[My thanks to Abbey Weber Jones for providing a first draft of this transcription for Spared & Shared.]
T R A N S C R I P T I ON
“Gayoso House” Memphis, Tennessee June 19, 1864
My dear Father,
It’s Sunday. The regiment has gone on a ten day scout along the Memphis and Charleston R.R. leaving their camp standing. It’s very hot in camp. I have several letters to write, hence I have taken a room for today at this house where I may keep cool and write far more comfortably than under a bit of canvas in the broiling sun. I did not go along with the regiment, simply because it was not necessary. They will not proceed so far as the scene of the late Sturges disaster, and will not encounter an enemy, so that I would be plodding along in the sun without prospect of anything more exciting or interesting. If I was not so thoroughly acquainted [with] the country along that line of road, I might have gone with them merely to see the country.
I wrote Frank from this place a few days since giving the latest view of my situation and prospects. I have nothing newer to add. Only that yesterday, when Col. Hubbard was about leaving for Minnesota, he gave me very solid assurance of my speedy re-instatement based on the strong endorsement given Col. McClure’s demand, by himself, as Brigade Commander and General Mower, commanding division.
I have many friends in my division, and in fact throughout the army; you know my large social qualities will always insure me a great many acquaintances – no matter where I am, and I do not think I am boasting when I claim many of them as friends.
The evidence of this I have had given me since my misfortune, by many offers of assistance. This is flattering to me in the highest degree, and produces many pleasurable emotions, but I hope not to the extent of making me vain. To counterbalance the effect these inconveniences might have on my self esteem, there is an opposite element at work among those who know me, who have not had cause to think well of me. No man can hold a public position of any importance either in military or civil life, without incurring the displeasure of some men—perhaps the enmity of a few. I am no exception to the general rule. I have my enemies as well as friends, and am proud to think I have, for that man who can sail along through a public career without a murmur of dissent assuredly has not much force of character, beyond the power of pleasing—a faculty not at all liable to immortalize him. My enemies then, serve to check whatever tendency might be produced in me to overstep the limits of moderation in my estimate of self.
I am still idle—in fact, not trying to obtain work, though I shall endeavor to secure something during the course of the week, for possibly I may not meet with that justice at the hands of the Govt. which I know is due me, in which case it would be well to be provided for the emergency; and then, it may be longer than I now suppose before I hear the final decision in which case it were better to be profitably employed than idle.
I wish you would write me how you are living, and especially let me know that you are not grieving yourself on my account. Do not give yourself unnecessary concern for my welfare even though I am at present disgraced; or if you cannot avoid feeling bitterly over the disappointed hopes you may have entertained for me, pray mingle with your cup of sorrow this morsel of consolation, your son is innocent of the charge and no more deserves this stigma than yourself.
It is hard to walk daily among the brave comrades of my past three years service, and read in their faces as they look at me, their sometimes pity—sometimes scorn with which they view my fallen condition; for many of them know only the fact of my dismissal & not the attending circumstances and cause. But I hold my “head up” and look every man in the face—not so boldly however as to give the appearance of a culprit staring public opinion out of countenance, but with that quiet self assurance born only of conscious innocence.
It is impossible that I should acquaint all who know me, with the facts in my case. Hence I must suffer the commiserating looks of some, and contempt of others. But I’ll say no more about it now; it’s not pleasant to suffer punishment for the sins of others. I have enough of my own to answer for. But let us hope that my complete vindication may speedily be brought about.
One thing more I must speak about in this connection. It is a possible thing that being so near the end of my regiment’s term of service, my case may not meet with that notice at the hands of the War Department it might otherwise obtain and may be altogether lost amid the convolutions of “Red tape” and never be adjusted. This, I say, is possible, though on this point, Col. McClure—in his letter to Hon. E. C. Ingersoll [Edward C. Ingersoll]—called his attention particularly to it in the following language; “I am extremely anxious that Lieut. Vail may be restored to duty before the regiment’s term of service is ended, for his thorough acquaintance with the organization, and especially the business department render his services at the final muster-out, of primary importance; but more especially do I desire his restoration prior to that time, because simple justice demands it. It is hard indeed that after so noble a record as that established by Lt. Vail through nearly 3 years in the service of his country, he should suffer (for no mis-demeanor of his own), a disgrace so outrageously unjust, etc., etc.” This is not, perhaps the exact language, but nearly so, and then he goes on to urge as a personal favor that he will press my claims.
Now what I wish to say is this. Suppose I do fail to secure justice, shall I come home? Shall I attempt to settle near you, when perhaps the finger of scorn pointed at me, will cause you occasional, perhaps constant sorrow? I know that heretofore you have wished that I would settle down in some business near you, but would you desire it in this contingency? You know that the disgrace publicly placed on me can never disappear entirely until it is publicly retracted by the parties placing it there.
I do not desire—and heaven knows would not willingly add one iota to the sorrows of your declining years—but with all my strength, God willing, shall endeavor to mitigate them. I know what would be my standing in the Valley of the Illinois were I to settle there with this stigma hanging over me. For myself, I can brave it all, and more too. But for your sake I can avoid it, and save you from watching a bitter struggle.
The world is wide, the avenues to success are open in every conceivable direction. I am young, healthy, vigorous. I have sufficient talent to make myself felt in any community, and that acquaintance with the “world’s ways” which will enable me to establish and maintain myself almost anywhere. Yet I hope the action of the government in my case may be speedy & just and allow me to prosecute the plans I had arranged without alteration. But write to me on this point fully—candidly. Do not be afraid of hurting my feelings. I am quite well – living easily as possible under surrounding circumstances. Am cheerful all day long & confident of success.
Memphis is safe, for Forrest hasn’t been within 50 miles of here. The rumor I saw in the Tribune of the 14th that A. J. Smith’s [Andrew Jackson Smith] forces were fighting him is without foundation. Our Regt is out in the advance (35 miles out) and haven’t seen a Reb.
This letter was begin by Charles D. Barrett (1828-1896) and finished by Samuel Franklyn (“Frank”) Parcher and Edward M. Gammon; Frank doing the writing of the latter two. All three were members of the 5th Maine Infantry. Charles began his service as a private in Co. H but later transferred to the band, joining Frank and Ed who mustered in as principal musicians. The 5th Maine Infantry was formed in Portland, Maine, and were mustered into the service on 24 June 1861 and encamped on Meridian Hill north of Washington City in July. They moved their camp to Alexandria, Virginia, just prior to the Battle of Bull Run. At that time, they were attached to Howard’s Brigade, Heintzelman’s Division. After the battle, they set up camp near Fort Ellsworth in Alexandria.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Sunday, July 7, 1861
Friend Phineas,
I am now on my knees by the Band tent writing on the bare drum head. I have just returned from the dight of a military funeral—one of te New York soldiers. It is a very warm day but we have got a cool breeze in the shade. The German New York 5th went by here about a half hour ago. They are a hard set of soldiers, you better believe. They are going down into Virginia. 1 There has been 15 regiments left here. When I say here, I mean close by. It is a city of soldiers and you would not miss them any more than you would miss a tree from the forest.
Speaking of trees, we have nice ones here—wide spreading oaks. The band tent is situated under one of these. Frank Parcher and Ed Gammon has just returned from Battery. There was a lot more of the Band went with them. The most of the company that I belong to have gone. I could have gone if I chose but I thought I would rather sleep. Therefore I got my rubber blanket and spread it under one of the trees and took a nap. I am awful tired. I have been on guard 12 hours, 4 hours on and 4 off. We go by companies.
I marched more than 40 miles yesterday on my beat & target shooting, We went in bathing yesterday after the target shooting. Where we went on the target shoot is the most lovely valley I ever saw—high hills round and a river running through the valley. We fired across the river. I hit the target two out of three times. The other shot—we fired by companies, therefore, I could not tell whether I hit or not.
Old Abe Lincoln rode by here about two o’clock this afternoon. 2 It is now half past 3. I would like to have you out here first rate. I know you would enjoy yourself first rate. I would not tell you so if I did not think what I say. The Band plated for us the other night. When they struck up Sweet Home, my thought winged their flight back to Old Portland. But they were soon forgotten amid the hum and noise of the camps.
I have just stopped to see a balloon which came over our encampment. The Boys are speculating about it whether there is a man in it or not. For myself, I think there is not. One of the fellows in the New York Regiment fired at it but it was so high that a musket ball could not reach it. Frank is seated under the tree reading a letter from Portland—grinning. It must be something good. I wish I could have one. We prize letters above gold out here. No one can tell until they have been situated in the same position.
One of Ellworth’s Zouaves was shot and killed down in the city yesterday. The Boys went down and tore down the house where he was killed. They burned a house last 4th [of July] a little way from our encampment. The house was called The Union House. The Boys stand no imposition on them by outsiders. they obey what the officers say, but have their own way on outsides.
I want you to write often. Write all the particulars—how the craft is, &c. Who Sand has got to work for him. Send me the Portland [Daily] Advertiser once in a while or every week if you can. I will send you the Washington papers. There is another regiment just going by, The Maine 4th have just received their new instruments. They are practicing [?] on them. I hardly go to the fence to see the regiments that pass this way there is so many. We are on 14th Street on a farm called Pleasant Hill Farm. It is mightily named. It is a splendid place. 3
I have not been sick a minute since I left Portland. There is any quantity of the 1st Regiment Boys came over to see us. I could think of enough to write to cover the earth but short letters are all the go here. We write short and often and I must keep in the fashion. Therefore, I will close wishing you good health and a long life. From your friend, — Charley B.
Give my love to Abby [ ], your wife, and all the rest of mankind. Tell Seth B. Libby to write to me and I will write to him. Ed Gammon is going to write a line. Let Sandbor & Charley see this and the girls if you want to.
Friend Phin,
We are enjoying ourselves hugely here. We (that is, Meyor [?] and myself) have just returned from a walk in a beautiful brook a short distance from here. Barrett says it is a most romantic place. If you were here, you would never want to go back. Our duties are very easy and we lay in the shade the most of the time. I tell you, Phin, that you would enjoy yourself. There was a German Regiment went by here today that you would have like to see. One of the hardest and toughest regiments you ever saw. Sunburnt and browned, every man looked as though he was good for ten rebels. As they went by on their way to Virginia, they struck up a good old German song. That’s what makes the spirits rise! The 4th Maine will probably leave in a few days. Yours, — Ed [Gammon] & Frank [Parcher]
1 The 5th New York State Militia (also known as the Jefferson Guard) was composed almost entirely of German citizens from New York City. They broke camp on 7 July 1861 to join the forces mustering in Virginia under Gen. Robert Patterson.
2Lincoln and Sec. Seward spend two hours at Navy Yard. Extracts from Dahlgren Diary, John G. Nicolay Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, DC. [Source: Lincoln Log]
3 In 1861, “Pleasant Hill” was a prominent country estate and farm owned by the Holtzclaw family, situated along the 14th Street corridor in Washington City. As the Civil War began, this rural expanse was transformed by the Union Army into a fortified military position critical for the capital’s defense.
These letters were written by Pvt. Frank Fletcher Rice (1847-1881) of Springfield, Windsor County, Vermont. Enlistment records state that that Frank enlisted at age 19 in September 1862 in Co. E, 16th Vermont. He mustered out of the service in August 1863.
When the census taker came to the household of book dealer and publisher Daniel Rice (1808-1888) and Maria P. Munn (1820-1912) of Springfield in June 1860, he enumerated Frank F. Rice as a 12 year-old. Other children of the household included Ellen Sophia Rice (1844-1864), Florence Minnie Rice (1853-19xx), and Arthur Frederick Rice (1856-19xx). Assuming the census was not mistaken in recording the children’s ages, Frank would have only been 14 years old (rather than 19) when he enlisted in the 16th Regiment. This would have been an incredibly tender age for a foot soldier. A biography of his father gives Frank’s birthdate as 12 July 1847 which would have made him slightly north of 15 when he enlisted in the 16th Vermont.
The first letter was written late in 1862, only two months after Frank’s enlistment in the 16th Vermont. The last letter was written after the war was over though Frank was clearly still in the service but apparently no longer in the same regiment. I cannot find a service record for Frank other than the 16th Vermont so I can’t be certain which unit he was in. He claims that he marched from Bladensburg, Maryland to Clouds Mills, Virginia so it would suggest he was still in an infantry unit. I could not find any Vermont regiments ordered to Louisville in June 1865 — only Wisconsin and Minnesota regiments.
Letter 1
Camp Vermont [2 miles from Alexandria, Va.] Sunday, November 16th [1862]
My dear sister [Ellen Sophia Rice],
I received your letter on Tuesday and I should have written before but the next day this company and five others of the 16th had to go 4 miles out on picket ¹ and did not get back until last night, but we did not have half so hard a time as I expected to have. But I had a better time than the rest for Tom Sexton ² and I were stationed at a house to keep the pickets from stealing the chickens and all we had to do was to sit in the door yard and crack walnuts. The house belonged [to] a man by the name of Mason ³ but he — being a Rebel — went to Richmond and left his house and his property, and then a regiment of New York soldiers went in to the house and broke all the windows out and smashed things up generally. There is a family of “poor whites” living there now. The family consists of a man and his wife, and six white-haired children and about a dozen dogs.
We expect to stay here all winter. They have commenced to draw the logs to make the barracks. They are to be large enough to hold a whole company. We are living in the letter “A” tents — five in a tent. We have cedar boughs spread in the bottom of the tent and are quite comfortable. I have not been sick a single day yet but have had a slight cold. Am getting over it now.
You spoke of sending a box. I think if it was directed to:
Frank F. Rice, Co. E, 16th Reg., Care of A. C. Mason, Vermont Vols., Washington D. C.
I think I should get it.
We have just come in from divine service. The regiment was drawn up in a hollow square and listened to a sermon from chaplain who is a pretty good preacher.
We had rather a hard time that cold spell but it is warm as summer now.
We live better now than we did for awhile. For about a week we had nothing but salt beef and hard bread.
We are encamped in a very pleasant place now within twelve miles of Washington and about two miles from Alexandria. Tell Min that I find that cap she made me very useful. I should not know what to do without it.
Mr. [Bartlett E.] White and [Joel B.] Clark are well and full of fun as ever and all of the boys are well as can be expected although a good many have got colds. Tell mother that she [has] no need to worry much about me for I am getting along first rate and enjoying myself pretty well. I don’t have any harder time than I expected to have though we have some pretty rough times.
You must excuse the writing for I have nothing but my knapsack to write on. When you write again, please send me some postage stamps for it is hard to get clean ones here. I want you to send me one of your pictures and tell Jule that I want one of hers. Give my love to Florence, Arthur, Aunt Hannah, and all the folks. Write often and tell me all about the things in Springfield. I can not write any more so goodbye.
Your affectionate brother, — Frank
¹ Lt. Col. Cummins of the 16th Vermont wrote his wife on 9 November 1862 from Camp Vermont in which he described the picket duty of the regiment: “These [pickets] consist of four companies and are stationed from 2 to 3 miles from camp — the chain extending from the Potomac irregularly 8 miles westward. I visited all the posts twice in the daytime and once in the night. In the 24 hours I rode from 40 to 50 miles horseback, though forest, ravines, pastures, and bush and brier.”
² Thomas Sexton (1839-1910) was a native of Ireland. After serving two years with the 16th Vermont Infantry, he served an additional year with Co. I, 3rd Vermont Infantry.
³ Maj. Roswell Farnham of the 16th Vermont wrote from Camp Vermont on 7 November 1862: “We are encamped near an old Virginia mansion owned by G. Mason Esq. one of the regular F. F. V’s [First Family of Virginia]. He is a secessionist at heart. His house is a two story one & things were once in good shape, but his slaves have all run away & the troops have ruined him. He has a wife & two children – one a daughter who he says is sick & a son or perhaps grandson twelve or fourteen years of age. He keeps his family very much secluded & has a notice put up that he does not wish to be troubled by applications from the troops for accommodations.* We have occupied his barn with our horses and today Col. Blunt, who has command of the brigade moved his head quarters into the house – into two vacant rooms in one wing. He has two big fire places & looks as cheerful as possible. Rather different from our tents, tho’ we are comfortable. Soon we shall have comfortable huts made & then we can bid defiance to the weather. By next week Saturday, the whole Regiment will be in huts if nothing happens.”
Letter 2
Camp Vermont December 6, 1862
My dear mother,
I got your letter thanksgiving day while I was out on picket. I read it sitting on a stump in a pine woods with a loaded gun in one hand. We had a pretty cold time. Have to go about four miles from camp. I have been out five times but have never come across any rebels yet.
We had quite a snowstorm yesterday. The snow is about four inches deep and it is pretty cold, but as we have got a stove in our tent and can get plenty of wood, we keep quite comfortable.
You said that I did not answer all the questions you wrote in your letter before. The reason was this. When I got the letter I read it and put it in my pocket and lost it. You asked me what it was I gave Uncle S. I gave him the order and nothing more.
We have got quite good bunks now. They are made by driving 4 crotched sticks into the ground for the posts. We then lay two poles across for the frame, then small poles on crossway. Then spread cedar boughs over the whole.
The cooking is done the same as it was at B. A hole is dug in the ground for the fire and the kettles are hung over it.
Tell Mary that I am much obliged to her for the chicken she sent me and tell Aunt H. that I thank her very much for the pickles. The things were very good that you sent in the [box] and I thank you all very much.
I have had two letters from Charley but have not answered them and do not intend to.
I wish that I could be at home Christmas with you and I think that if I live to get home again, I shall be willing to go to school and stay. Not that I am sorry that I ever enlisted but I have seen enough to know that I was better off at home.
I am sorry Uncle F is so sick but I hope he will get better. I can’t write any more now for I have got to get ready to go on picket tomorrow. Give my love to Nell, Father, the children, Aunt Hannah, and all the folks. Your affectionate son, — Frank
Letter 3
Camp near Fairfax Court House January 10, 1863
My dear Mother,
I received your letter with the money yesterday and I thank you very much.
The weather is very wet and unpleasant. Today has rained all day but as we have not had anything to do and our barracks do not leak, we get along very well.
We have had beef steak and potatoes for dinner. We draw our rations of beef raw and fry it and have beef steak three times a week. I wish you would send me another box. Please send me some butter, some apple sauce, some cooked sausage, some apples and a tin cup and as many things as you have a mind to.
My tent mates are John Colter [?], George Cook, and Jim Taylor. I wish you would send me one of the haversacks such as Lab___ keeps for mine is all worn out.
I get along very well darning my stockings and the cook of the company washes my shirts and drawers for five cents a piece. I have not lost anything yet. I think I have been very lucky. I found the spices very useful. The pepper and mustard especially.
I went down to the captain’s tent to see about that bill but he was not there. I will send it in my next letter. I can’t write anymore so goodbye. Your affectionate son, — Frank
Letter 4
Camp near Fairfax Court House January 17, 1863
My dear sister,
I received your letter last night and was very glad to hear from home.
We are having a very easy time just now. Do not have but one drill a day except Wednesdays and Fridays when we have a Brigade drill over to Fairfax on a splendid parade ground.
We have got our camp fixed up now so that we are quite comfortable for soldiers. We have got a good cook house built of logs and a sidewalk in front of our tents ten feet wide made of split logs running the whole length of our street.
It is pleasant today but quite cold. The ground is frozen hard.
I suppose you knew before this of Adin and Mr. Clark’s promotion. Adin is 2nd Lieutenant of Co. C and Mr. Clark is 2nd lieutenant of Co. D. George Cook has been detailed a hospital cook so it leaves only three of us in one tent and as we have got a good bunk built of poles covered with pine boughs, we get along very well.
I will try and get my picture taken someday or soon as I can get a chance to go over to Fairfax Court House. There is a photograph gallery over there. I have not got the lamp yet but hope I shall before long
I received two papers last night—Vermont Journals from home—and was glad to get them for we do not get much to read here. Please send papers as often as you can. It is most dark and I can’t write any more. Gove my love to Father, Mother, Aunt Hannah, and all the rest of the folks. Your affectionate brother, — Frank
Letter 5
Camp near Fairfax Station January 25, 1863
My dear mother,
I received your letter last night and as I have nothing to [do] just now, I thought I would answer it.
We have moved again about 3 miles from the Court House to the station. We are encamped now near a pine woods in an old cornfield, and it is very muddy. the first night that we slept here we settled into the mud about four inches. We are at work today building new barracks and have got them nearly done. We build them out of pine logs and plaster up the cracks with mud.
It has rained for two days all the time and is very muddy but this afternoon the sun has come out and it is quite pleasant. If this reaches you before you send the box, please send me some letter paper and some ink and some common sand paper.
My clothes have not began to wear out yet. My shirts and all my clothes are whole. There is not a hole in them.
you asked me to tell you if I could get a chance to come home. Mother, I would want to go back to the army. I am here and have got to stay here [till] my time [is] out and am willing to do it. But if I was at home, I would never come out here—not that I am dissatisfied or home sick, for I think if I ever do get home again, I shall lead a better life than I have done. I think what I have see has learned me a good lesson and now I think if I was where I could enjoy the comforts of a good home as I had, I should be perfectly willing and contented to stay there. I don’t want you to think that I am sorry that I ever went into the army for I am not, for it learned me a lesson that I could not have learned in any other way. I think when I do get home, I shall be willing to go to school and get an education and go into some respectable business and try and be a help and comfort to you all.
I don’t think that I ever thought of home and you so much as when on picket. I have sat many hours and thought of the time when I had a ood home and a warm bed to get into and a kind mother to look after me. But if God lets me to get home again, I shall try and lead a better life.
I don’t know as there is any clothing that I want unless it is another pocket handkerchief for if we should move again, which we may do everyday, I could not carry them though I should like more cotton and woolen drawers.
Col. [Wheelock G.] Veazey is well. I saw him out today chopping logs. The men like him very much. I wish you would write him a letter and ask him to detail me for an orderly or some such thing. I should have a great deal easier time.
I will send in this letter an order for father to draw my state pay. I can’t write any more now so goodby. My love to father, Nell, Aunt H., and all the children. Your affectionate son, — Frank
Letter 6
Camp at Fairfax Station, Va. February 20, 1863
Dear father,
I should have written you before but I thought as I wrote to mother, it was just as well as though I wrote to you. We are still here in our old camp and the mud is as deep as ever. We have now quite a snow storm. About eight inches fell and it is just going off so it makes it very muddy. It is so deep around the Station that all they can draw from the depot to the Brigade commissaries with a six mule team id four barrels of beef and sometimes they get stuck with that.
Co. A and B have got new guns and we expect some soon. They have got the Springfield rifle. They are much better than the Austrian rifle which the rest of the regiment have got.
There is a great deal of talk in the regiment about the time that our time commences. Most of them think that our term of service expires the first of June and I hope it does, but I hardly think we shall go home until the 24th of July. What do you think about it?
I went to the captain today and got that two dollar bill and will send it to you. I should have sent it before but I forgot all about it.
We do not have much drilling to do except target firing and I like that very much. We have a good deal of guard and fatigue duly to do around the station which in wet weather is very unpleasant on account of the mud. Yesterday I worked down there all day lading barrels of beef and pork and worked harder than I ever did a day on the farm and I have got to go down there on guard tomorrow.
If things are wasted throughout the army as they are at Fairfax Station, it is a wonder to me how the army holds out. Why there is thousands of dollars worth of goods wasted there every month. Piles of saddles and harnesses laying out in the mud and rain and guns and sabers rusting and laying around in the mud and in one pile there is thousands of tents laying in the mud and rotting while there is a regiment at Fairfax Court House (the Pennsylvania Bucktails) laying out without any tents. That is the way things are carried on here. But they don’t complain and call it “military.”
I can’t write anymore now as it is time for dress parade. Give my love to all. — Frank
Letter 7
Headquarters 2nd Vermont Brigade Wolf Run Shoals April 6, 1863
Dear mother,
We have moved again and are now stationed near the 12th and 14th [Vermont] Regiments and about 6 miles from Union Mills where the 16th still remains, as nothing but the Headquarters have moved. I don’t think it near pleasant here as it was at the Mills. Nothing right here but woods and hills and the [mud] is about a foot deep.
Night before last it commenced to rain and snow and yesterday morning when I got up the snow was a foot deep and today it is melting which makes it vert wet and muddy.
I have just been to Washington again. I went down to carry some dispatches to Gen. Casey’s Headquarters for Col. Blunt. Had a very good time but did not have time to look around much. I expect to go down again in a few days.
We live first rate here now—a great deal better than a great many folks at home do. There is 12 of us mess together. We have got a very good cook. We have doughnuts and pies, beef steak and potatoes most every meal. I never was better in my life than I am now and never enjoyed myself any better.
My clothes are all whole yet except my pants which are worn out and I have drawn another pair. I don’t wear out my clothes no so fast as I did when I was in the regiment. I got a letter from you day before yesterday and was very sorry to hear of the death of Henry Holton. I can’t write any more now for it is getting late.
Give my love to Father, Nell, and H, and all the folks. — Frank
P. S. Direct your letters to Headquarters, 2nd Brigade, Casey’s Division, Washington D. C.
Letter 8
Headquarters 2nd Brigade, Casey’s Division Wolf Run Shoals April 14, 1863
My dear sister,
I went over to Union Mills day before yesterday and went to the regiment and found a letter there for me, and as I have not ot anything to do now, I will try and answer it.
Everything is ready to move at any moment. We got orders night before last to be ready to move at any time with 3 days rations cooked. All the tents have been turned over to the Quartermaster and the men have not got anything but shelter tents. There is only four tents along for the General and his staff and we orderlies have to sleep in shelter tents but as it is getting warm and dry, we don’t mind it much.
There has not been any direct order for us to move—only to [be] ready to go and it would not be anything strange if we did not go at all. I should like to be at home a few days and get some maple sugar for I don’t expect to get any this year. You spoke of Adin coming come. I think the general order that you folks have got is pretty near right. As for me, I shant come home until my [time] is out if I could, which I am as well ably to do duty as he is.
I should like to have you send me some sugar but I don’t care about your send me a box for we are liable to move at any time and then I should not know what to do with it. I will try and get my picture taken the next time I go to Washington. I am well and enjoying myself as well as ever.
I can’t write any more now for it is getting late. Give my love to Father, Mother, and all the folks, — Frank
Letter 9
Headquarters 2nd Brigade, Abercrombie’s Division Wolf Run Shoals April 22, 1863
My dear mother,
Brig. General George Stannard
We still remain here just as we was when I wrote you last though I expect we shall very soon. We have got a new Brigadier General. His name is [George Jerrison] Stannard, the former Colonel of the 9th [Vermont]. He came yesterday and he appears like a very nice man but he can’t be any better than Col. B[lunt] and I am sorry that they changed.
I received a letter from you when I first came here and one a few days ago. I think I have received all the letters and papers that you have sent and you can’t think how good it seems to hear from home.
One of the General’s aides, 1st Lt. G. W. Hooker, was lieutenant in the [same] company of the 4th [Vermont] Regiment that Fred Rice was in and knew him well.
It is six months tomorrow since we were mustered in and we have but three more to serve at the farthest and that is not very long. It don’t seem a month hardly since I was in Brattleboro.
I will now try and answer your questions that you asked in your letters. I have to go to Washington about once in four days. I go by railroad to Alexandria which is about 20 miles and then go the rest of the way by steamboat. Gen. Casey has been relieved of command of the Division and Gen. Abercrombie has command now. I suppose his headquarters are where Gen. Casey’s were on 14th Street at the foot of Long Bridge. I stop with Casey’s orderly.
I have not changed my mind about going to school when I get back home again though I have not made up my mind where I shall go. Perhaps it will be at the seminary. You said that Adin told you that he detailed me here. Perhaps he did but I never knew it before. The way I come to be detailed was this. The captain sent Bennett up to Fairfax Court House while we were at the Station and while he was there he got detailed as orderly at headquarters. But when we got to Union Mills, through the influence of the captain and Col. Veazy, Bennett came back to the company and I took his place as orderly. I don’t see what Adin had to do about it. Still he may have had some influence over the captain.
I see Mr. Brustow very often. His tent [is] very near here and I have been over there several times to service. I saw him today and he wished to be remembered to you. I am looking forward with a great deal of pleasure to the time when I shall see you all again. You can’t think how I long to see my home and friends again. I must close as it is getting late so goodbye. Give my love to Father, Nell, and all the folks. — Frank
P. S. Direct Headquarters 2nd Brigade, Abercrombie’s Division, Washington D. C.
Leave off Brig. Gen. Stannard
Letter 10
Headquarters 2nd Brigade, Abercrombie’s Division Union Mills, Va., May 4, 1863
My dear mother,
We are still here at Union Mills but have got orders to be ready to move at any moment with 3 days rations in haversack. Still we may not go for you know that we have had such orders before and not gone. I hope we shant go for I like this place the best of any we have been in. But still the more that we move around the more we see of the country.
There has been a cavalry fight down to Warrenton (about 15 miles from here) and yesterday the wounded were brought through here on the cars. They were all rebels except one and they were the worst looking set of men that I ever saw. There was about 30 of them.
The 12th [Vermont] Regiment has moved down to Bealeton Station about 20 miles from here and I should not wonder if we went down there too. You said in your letter that you had not heard from me the last week. Now I have written at least two letters home every week either to you or Nell. If you do not get them, they must be lost on the way.
i wish you would send me some papers every week. You used to. but I have not got any for two weeks. You need not be afraid of my not keeping the promises I made you before I left home. I never have broken them yet and I don’t itend to and I never should do anything that will cause you any pain or cause you in any way regret for letting me enlist.
I am well and all the boys in the company are too. I believe there was a lot of contraband came in yesterday.
This morning we have heard cannonading. I think it must be from Hooker’s army. We feel a great deal of interest in Hooker’s movements for if he is whipped, he will [pass] this way through here we think.
You will find five dollars enclosed in this letter. Wo with it as you think proper. I am glad Uncle F. is better. Hope he will keep so. Give my love to all the folks. — Frank
Letter 11
Headquarters 2nd Division, Abercrombie’s Division Union Mills, Va. May 17, 1863
My dear sister,
I received your letter a few days ago and would have answered it before but I have been down to Alexandria to get a pair of spurs for Gen. Stannard and did not get back until this afternoon. I went all over the Marshall House. Seen the stairs where Ellsworth was shot by Jackson.
Today, the 15th [Vermont] which was camped at Bealton Station moved back to Union Mills. When the 12th [Vermont] first went down to the Rappahannock river, there was some rifle pits on the other side. They sent a company over to destroy them which they did. They were thrown by the rebels about a year ago for you [know] they held this country until within a few months. Yesterday, as soon as the section of a battery that was stationed near the 12th [Vermont] moved back to the Mills, rebel pickets were seen just across the river (which is about as large as the Connecticut) and men at work refurbishing the breastworks. So they thought it was about time to move back which they did at once. At one time our pickets were on one end of the bridge and the rebels were on the other end—rather closer than was pleasant.
The other day some of the cavalry that were stationed down near where Co. E were stationed for a while (I don’t remember the name of the place but believe it was Bristoe) made a decent once small village called Brentsville that was suspected of containing rebels. They broke up the post office and some of the Co. E got a lot of rebel letters and papers. I got paper from one of the boys and will send it to you.
There was one thing in your letter that I could not believe for a long time and can hardly believe it now. That was that Eliza Spencer was to be married to Firbush. I never heard anything that took me aback as that did. Why he is old enough to be her father. I don’t know what all the folks is coming to.
I can’t write any more now for I am going down to Alexandria on the next train and it is almost time for it to start. So goodbye. — Frank
Letter 12
Headquarters 2nd Brigade Abercrombie’s Division Union Mills, Va. June 10, 1863
My dear sister,
I received your letter a few days ago and would have answered before but I had just written mother and everything is so dull now that I cannot find enough news to write more than one letter a week.
I wonder what you are doing tonight at home? I wish I were there with you if it were only for a little while. But I will soon be there in a very short time. Do you know, Nell, that it was nine months the 3rd of this month since I enlisted? And it seems such a little while. Six week more and I will be home again. That will soon pass away.
You said you were going to Maine this month with Mrs. Chickering. I hope youy will have a good time but I want you should be sure and get back in time to meet at Brattleboro when i come back on the 23rd. If you don’t, I shant like it a bit.
There is no news that I can’t think of now except that the 16th [Vermont] have moved back to Union Mills. It is very dull here now—nothing going on except now and then a cavalry fight within a few miles of here. There is always quite a rush for the depot to see the wounded and prisoners.
I sent you that paper. It is strange that you never received it. It must have been lost on the way. Will try and get another one and send you. We have got better accommodations than we had when I wrote you last. Three of us have got an officer’s tent with board bunks filled with hay which makes a very good bed for a soldier.
I am sorry to hear of Josie Colburn’s blindness. Hope it will be better soon. Remember me to Rob and tell him I am going down to visit him and climb the mountain when I get back.
I can’t write any more now for it is getting late and I am very sleepy. Remember me to all the friends. Good night my dear, — Frank
Letter 13
[Editor’s note: This letter was written in pencil and is so faint that it will not scan legibly. I was able to transcribe from the original successfully, however.]
Middletown, Maryland July 9, 1863
Dear mother,
Of course you have heard that we ewre in the fight at Gettysburg. I was in it some of the time but came out all right and am well now. I should have written before but we have been moving all the time and I have not had a chance. It is two weeks today since we left Union Mills and we have marched every day. I have got along very well on the move. I ride all the time in the Headquarters ambulance and enjoy myself very well so you need not worry yourself at all about me.
I have seen all the boys in Co. A, 3rd [Vermont] and some that I knew in the 4th [Vermont]. They are all well. The 12th and 13th [Vermont] have gone home and we shall go in two weeks. That is only a little while. I don’t think you had better write me again for I never should get it if you did. We are moving around so from one place to another, we can’t tell one day where we shall be the next.
I can’t write anymore now for we are going to move somewhere. I will write again tomorrow. — Frank
Letter 14
Camp at Cloud’s Mills, Virginia June 5th 1865
Dear Mother,
I received your letter of the third this afternoon — also the Independent and Ledger. You will see by this that we have moved again. We moved our camp at Bladensburg [Maryland] a week ago today and marched to our present camp marching through Washington and Alexandria. We came about 18 miles that day.
We are camped almost in sight of the old Camp “Vermont” where I was when I was in the 16th [Vermont Infantry] and about 4 miles from Alexandria. The order is now for the brigade we are in to go to Louisville, Kentucky and we may start tomorrow. I had rather go there than stay in Virginia. I did not feel any bad effect from the marching either to Bladensburg or here.
The fast was observed here. We had services in a large apple orchard near our camp. The chaplain of the 21st New York Cavalry preached. He is just such a man as Mr. Chrickering. I have a testament and read it too for I have not forgotten the night I was at home.
As for the letter that father wrote me, it [is] a friendly, polite letter. He said he should be glad to hear from me again. He still continues to blame me for the past and for enlisting. I never got my things from Baltimore. I lost my valise and one or two shirts — that is all. I have not received one cent of pay the government owes me [which amounts to] $266 now. I am getting along as well as usual.
I wish you would send me money — it is very hard living on salt pork this [summer].
Has father sold the horses yet? If not, how is Katie? I have no paper left. I must stop. Love to all. Your affectionate son, — Frank
Spared & Shared 23 