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
I could not find an image of Capt. Lewis Low of Co. K, but my friend Marc Storch kindly provided this image from his collection of Captain Wm. Manning, Lt. Seloftus Forbes and Sgt. David Johnson of Co. G, 32nd Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry.
The following letters were written by Morgan “Lewis” Low (1827-1873), the son of Jacob Low (1807-1875) and Catherine Morgan (1814-1892) of Lowville, Columbia county, Wisconsin. Lewis’ parents came to Wisconsin in 1843 from Poughkeepsie, New York, a few years after their marriage. They settled first in Green Bay where they conducted the Astor House Hotel. They later moved to Fort Winnebago where the operated a mercantile for two years, and then in 1845 established the family homestead in Lowville. Lewis was the oldest of four children; his younger siblings were Bartlett (b. 1839), Melissa (b. 1841), and John (b. 1842).
During the American Civil War, Lewis volunteered his services in Co. K, 32nd Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, rising in rank from 1st Lieutenant to Captain. Muster rolls inform us he entered the service in mid-September 1862 and mustered out on 12 June 1865. He was promoted to captain of Co. K on 3 February 1864 although he commanded the company for several months previous. Before he left the service, Lewis was married on 14 October 1864 while home on furlough to Sarah Hand (1839-1914).
There are 14 letters in this small collection, all written by Lewis Low and addressed to his younger brother, John Henry Low (1842-1926) who with his descendants should probably be credited for having preserved Lewis’ letters. John was married to Josephine Martha Jones (1850-1930) in 1869. John lived out his days in the vicinity of Bear Lakes, Minnesota where he first went trapping in the winter of 1865. At the time these letters were received during the war, he was attempting to farm in Blue Earth County, Minnesota.
Lewis’s letters to his brother offer a vivid and deeply personal account of his life in the service from 1863 through the end of the Civil War. He chronicles the hardships of camp life, long marches, picket duty, illness, inadequate rations, and the uncertainty of military campaigns, while continually expressing concern for his family’s well-being and gratitude for letters from home. His letters emphasize the endurance, discipline, and sacrifice demanded of the common soldier, reflecting both pride in preserving the Union and sorrow for the immense human cost of the conflict. As Confederate defeat draws near, his confidence in ultimate victory grows, and by the war’s conclusion his thoughts turn from military service to the long-awaited prospect of returning home, leaving behind a compelling record of a dutiful citizen-soldier sustained by patriotism, perseverance, and devotion to family.
Letter 1
Addressed to John H. Low. Esq., Winnebago Agency, Blue Earth county, Minn.
Memphis [Tennessee] June 23, 1863
Brother John,
Yours of June 12th is this day received and this day will be answered. Have been looking for a little of your chirography some time. It beats “old cloven foot [ ] toil” [the Devil”] why our folks don’t write you. Probably thy haven’t heard from you yet, for in the last one I received from there. they said no word had reached them from you since you left Lowville. You state that there is a great deal of marsh in that section of country now. There is some advantage in that even for it will eventually be a great stock region and as you and me are stock men, it will suit our taste to a demonstration.
Now John, if Colwell don’t come to time with the breaking, just order it up and “play it alone” by buying more cattle and hiring a man. Get a plow and run it yourself. It is getting late in the season and it is time you bested yourself though by the time this reaches you, you will have got some broke, no doubt. if you have joined with Colwell’s and think that one team cannot break enough, hire a team to break 20 or 30 acres. It may be possible that breaking teams are scarce and that it will be hard work for you to hire any done. How this is, I cannot tell. You know best. But one thing is certain—that I wish to see you have 50 acres broke this summer. Now don’t you wish the same thing? Bu so doing, next year you can have quite a crop and it will belong to John Low. This winter you can fence it and probably more. Should advise advise you when winter comes to fence on 80, breaking the rest up next season when you can probably be able to run a team of your own.
My idea is for you to “play it high” though I will never council you to run in debt. I will find time to furnish you means and will advise Father to do the same if I can’t furnish enough or if it so happens that Uncle Samuel should not pay me for a long time. A fellow in a new country should be a little ahead of his neighbors by so doing, he has a decided advantage. Those in Lowville who broke and fenced largely and kept on doing so at an early day are now comparatively independent. When your land comes into market, money can be soon raised to pay for it and if there is a nice field joining yours on either of the four sides, across the creek or not, of 160 acres that you would like, just keep your eye on it till it comes into market. Even though it is claimed, money will buy it.
I suppose you are not in immediate need of money now. We are expecting to get two months pay every day. Other troops are being paid off but it is thought the paymaster will wait till about the 10th of July and then pay us for four months and that amount will be due me on the last day of the month. It may be that Father will want some money to help him through the harvest and if he does, I will have to send it to him of course. I will find out. But then if you wanted money, just promise to pay after harvest and I will see that it is paid.
Big crops in Wisconsin this year. That is what will set you all on your feet, provided they get a good price which they will, no doubt. Now don’t you go preempting any more land for other people for if I understand [correctly], the Preemption Law will not let a man preempt more than one piece. It would not be advisable to risk losing the place you are improving for the sake of making a hundred or two dollars, though if you think you can go into a wholesale business of it and make “right smart” of money “made in.”
You are right about getting close to market. It makes a dang sight of difference whether a man is 14 or 40 miles away to market on the river or on a line of railroad. If I was in position where I dare, I would try to have you secure me a hunk of land near you but I dare not attempt it for several good reasons. One is it might keep 4 or 5 hundred dollars from you just at the time you needed it [and] would do me no good if a stray bullet should give me a final discharge. Then I am forced in a position where I would have to ask the advice and get the consent of another if I wished to have life endurable. This last is the most weighty of all and dang me if I wouldn’t like to visit Poynette [Columbia county, WI] just now and to see about a little affair of my own. Now this is between you and me, John.
You spoke about making me proposition. Well, make it. No fear of my misconstruing what you may write. We both agree too well to make any great blunder in talking with each other. It will do you no harm to make me any propositions you may see fit.
So you have been writing and receiving letters from Janesville? Oh ho! my boy, you are in for it are you. You rascal. All right, my covy [?]. You say she wrote me a letter. How the devil do you know she did? Was she soury, surly or mad, you ask, just as though you were perfectly ignorant of her “phelinks,” [?] considering you are, though this there is a question about it. I will tell. It was a kind of a sweetish [?] affair—a great many expressions of injured innocent maidenly tears—a perfect loathing contempt for me, and last of all, a long tall farewell, which winds up effectively, my hobbling in that direction.
On the 6th of June, the loyal people of Memphis had a celebration of the anniversary of the day in which the Federal troops took possession of the city. It was a very nice affair with a large procession, but on the 25th, they had an election and elected the same mayor they had in secesh times, or who done all he could to help this state out of the Union. He also issued a proclamation to the people to observe the day appointed by Jeff Davis for fasting and prayer but said not a word when Abe Lincoln appointed a day for the same purpose. What loyalty this is, isn’t it?
We have received news here of the fall of Port Hudson or the capture of 9,000 prisoners. Hope it will prove to be carried. the 32nd Wisconsin and the 25th Indiana are to be mounted, the men to furnish themselves with Spencer Repeating rifles. It will be the crack corps of the army.
I have received a letter from Add Webb. He is at Vicksburg. Also got one from Mrs. Herring and one from Mrs. Delaney. Will write more in my next. — Lu.
When I get paid off, I will send you my photograph and shall then request yours in return. Write to me as usual at this place. Harley sends his best wishes. [ ] has sore eyes but they are getting better.
Letter 2
Memphis, [Tennessee] July 22, 1863
Yours of the 11th came to hand yesterday. Had been looking for one from you for some time—if we answer each other’s letters promptly. I see that it takes quite a while for them to get around. I also received one from Mother. She says harvest help is going to be scarce and [she’s] afraid they will have to scratch to get the crop secured. Good weather, however, will greatly facilitate the arrangements.
I see by your letter that it is a pretty hard job to get anyone to break or help break [sod]. I am sorry that you cannot hire any team to break 15 or 20 acres for you. If you can get somebody to break only 5, give them a job even at $3.50 per acre. It will all help. In a new country it is pretty hard to get the machine running. I cannot tell one tenth as much about it as you can. You are there and I [am] thousands of miles away. I am glad you have a sawmill so close to you. It will be a great benefit in the future. Will the land be sold as soon as the commissioner appraises it? And will the sale be sometime this winter or next spring? Let me know in your next the price set on the land.
The way you spoke of getting more land is, in my way of thinking, a very lousy one, for you have to furnish a man with the money and let him purchase it in his own name so that he has the advantage and can do as he pleases after getting the money, though, by Jacks, I should like you to have 80 or a quarter more. you spoke about acting as my agent. I do not wish to do anything which would place me in an awkward position and must be free and untrammeled when I return home. If I had a leave of absence of 60 days, I could come to a satisfactory conclusion both to you and myself. This though, is impossible at present. That other person you spoke about cannot [ ] any nonsense on me for I am not wholly gone over he dam in that direction or any other. Now, John, as for your not having any cash of your own and that you will have to run hard into debt is shear nonsense for we are to help each other and Father is to help us all. Without so doing, it will be up hill business for us all. I want you to bear one thing in mind. That what money you get from loan or through me is yours eternally and that you need not think yourself in debt to any of us for it is the policy to set one up at a time.
I shall go to Minnesota as soon as the war is over and if it suits me square there, buy you out or something of the kind. But it would not be good for me to do as you said nor would it for you. If Father has a good crop and decent prices this year, you can be boosted right along and I have written so to our folks at home. I received a letter from John Ward, California. Things remain there about the sameYou have probably heard of the death of Andrew McFarlain. 1 He was mortally wounded at Vicksburg and died by the time they got him home. What glorious victories we have ben achieving lately. A few more such and the war will end.
I have a slight headache and therefore cannot write you very comfortably. Will do better next time. Your tall brother, — Lewis
1 Capt. Andrew J. MacFarlane (1840-1863) served in Co. K, 23rd Wisconsin Infantry. He died on 4 July 1863 of wounds received at Vicksburg on 20 May 1863. He was buried in Portage, Columbia county, Wisconsin.
Letter 3
Memphis [Tennessee] September 1, 1863
Brother John,
Yours of the 24th ult. came to hand yesterday and I proceed immediately to answer it, nit deeming it brotherly to wait as you have 4 or 5 weeks. Am bound to lampoon you a little for not writing sooner. I received a letter from Bart day before yesterday. He says they are having tough times in harvest. It will cost them a great deal. Bart won’t make anything but will come out clear. I fear Miles will never want to have anything to do with farming again. Every time he has attempted it, [ ] was lodged, help scarce, and wheat low. It looks bad for him. Father is feeling blue but I think he will have a big pile of grain to dispose of. I sent him 200 dollars to help him through harvest and threshing. He will see that you have money to buy your land. I think it a good idea to put in some bids for timber lots. Do it in this way. Put in about three bids for three different lots and have your bids from very low to middling and high. For instance, you bid $1 per acre one, $2 per acre for another, and 5 for an acre for the last. Then if you should get all three, then take the lowest and forfeit the others. Or if you should get the two highest, then take the lowest and forfeit the other. It may be that to do this you will have us my or Bert’s or Miles’ names, if such a thing can be done. Will they allow anyone to bid who is not an actual settler? Do not do anything which will in any way oust you from your present claim.
Father says that he and me can and will swing you out all right. I don’t see how I can come home this fall though I will attempt it in a short time. Mother is not in good health this summer. If I should get lucky enough to get a furlough, I will pay you a flying visit. I have at this time a great deal on my mind and will have to do some nice figuring. Think I am the boy to do it.
We have just received an order for the regiment to be mounted. We will probably make this place our headquarters and make numerous scouts into Jeff’s dominion. We will not be ready for our first expedition under a month or six weeks. There are a good many of the officers belonging to this regiment sick and a great many of the men are ditto. Stoner Hassell has the ague. Lib[erty] Jewett has been sick but is better. John McCann is sick with the ague. The health of the regiment is improving. We have cool nights now.
Mrs. Delaney has written me two letters full of sisterly love. I have answered them both. I have received letters from Lile and Mr. Helling. Don’t you think they are a little jealous of me as well as some others in Lowville. I am too [ ] to suit some of the narrow minded so will write to you always just before starting on an expedition and immediately after returning. Your Bro. — Lewis
Letter 4
Memphis [Tennessee] September 27, 1863
Brother John,
Yours of the 16th inst. is at hand. I am glad to see you so prompt. “Shouldn’t wonder” if you come to something yet. I thought you would get tired of keeping “Batch” and find it much more pleasant to board—particularly if there was a young lady in the cars, as it is with me. I have been boarding since the 20th of July at one Dr. Bailey’s. He has a very pretty daughter and, of course, a great many pretty girls come to see her which makes it very pleasant for thy big brother. I have formed many acquaintances and I will feel loathe to part with them knowing that i will probably never find a place till I arrive home which I like so well as this.
Father tells me that I must look out for the fair faced Southern ladies or I will lose my gizzard. No fear of that. John, you seem to hint at something concerning me at Poynette. Strange, passing strange! that someone does not want school children to bring their letters. Folks will have strange notions, you know.
I am glad to hear that you have put up so much hay. Suppose you calculate to make something on it. In regard to selling your farm, I am unable to advise. You are the proper judge. Be careful about offering it or sale if by so doing, it will be liable to be jumped. Trust in no one’s honesty. Think that if your claim does not suit you and that if you can better yourself somewhere else, that you had better do it, get the money down if possible, or a great share of it—enough or more to clear you.
The news here is that France has recognized the Rebels and formed a treaty of “offense and defense.” If this is the case, it is well to quit farming if possible and get all the money you can and all consolidated to keep the homestead in tip top order and have every possible comfort for the older folks that we can. If the report is true & we are involved in a war with foreign forces, agriculture will drop around one’s head like a torn, tattered and worthless garment. Wheat will not be worth 25 cents a bushel. The army will then, sooner or later, take everybody and fortunate will he be who secures a good position. If you could—in case new regiments are formed—get a commission. It would be well.
The Orderly Sergeant is not to be sneezed at for it is but a step to a 2nd Lieutenant—$95 per month. Now this news may not be true. I merely caution you of it is. In case it is, if Miles should go to recruiting and volunteer, he rushing to the “old flag,” could you not collide with him for something.
Outr stay at Memphis is limited. We are under marching orders. Was also a few days ago but it was revoked as only a Brigade or two was to move. Now, however, the whole Corps—16th—is to leave and the 15th will come in our place. Think we are going to reinforce Rosecrans on some flank movement on Beauregard. We shall see hot work inside of two months. I will write to you again on the eve of departure and when in the field. We are sure to go out as infantry. I am in command of Co. K. Others will probably tell you why. — Lewis Low
Do not write till you hear from me again. It will probably be a week or ten days before we leave. — Lewis Low
Letter 5
Memphis [Tennessee] November 16, 1863
Brother John,
Your note of the 9th ult. is at hand. I was under the impression that I had written to you since I told you not to write till you heard from me but it seems I was mistaken. I have been waiting for a day or two to hear from you to know where to direct. Will now run the risk. I received your letter while on a scout. Was at Collierville. Got there on the 3rd after dark about half an hour after the fight. Indeed, was sorry we was too late to have a hand in, but our time will come by and by.
We are under marching orders—two brigades of us. We will probably leave in the morning. We will be absent from Memphis about a week. We are going to look after Forrest, the great guerrilla chieftain. We are to be mounted sure as mounted infantry first and after a litle while we will be known as the 5th Wisconsin Cavalry. This I am glad of. It will add $19.50 per month to my pay or about enough to board me. We will have the best guns in the service—the Spencer carbine or rifle. The rifle shoots eight times without loading. The caps are on the end of the metallic cartridge so we do not have to cap our guns. We can shoot them 8 times without taking them down from the shoulder. The carbine shoots ten times and is just like the rifle, only lighter and smaller calibre. When the 8 or 10 shots are fired, we just take a handful of cartridges and drop them into the butt of the gun and are ready to shoot again. Can put in the two charges quicker than we can load the old guns.
I hope you will have a pleasant trip and a good time. Father tell s me that he stands a chance of being a state agent to look after the welfare of Wisconsin soldiers. This will pay him well besides giving him a chance to travel. Things come along smoothly in the company and I still remain in command. Hope as you say to remain in command till the war ends.
Do you ever hear from John Hall? Does he ever say anything about going to Minnesota? Guess he lacks the courage. Will write to you again immediately after we come back from this even if we have a fight.
Very respectfully, — Lewis Low, 1st Lieut. Commanding Co. K, 32nd Wisconsin Volunteers
What a sting when a fellow signs his name officially.
Letter 6
Lafayette [Tennessee] January 22, 1864
Brother John,
Yours of January 4th is at hand and I was “right glad” to hear from you again after a silence of two months. You have no doubt had a taste—and a small one too—of soldier’s life. About the time you were having your hardest time, I was undergoing some “I reckon” and as you gave me a brief history of your expedition, I suppose you expect me to return the compliment by giving an outline of our “rampage.”
We left Memphis on the 26th of November, went to Germantown, Collinville, and was on our way to Moscow when it rained so hard that Grissum Creek was impassable and we had to lay still one day. After the water had subsided, we crossed and marched through Moscow to Lagrange where we stayed several days during which time we had all sorts of rumors afloat in regard to the enemy’s intentions and position. Before we left Memphis, we had orders to be mounted and made a good deal of calculation on it and were designated as Morgan’s Light Brigade, 32nd [Wisconsin] and 25th Indiana. The rebs under Lee—a son of Gen. Lee of the Potomac—and Chalmers were hovering around to make a strike on the railroad which they did at a place called Saulsbury, some 60 miles east of Memphis. They did but little damage.
I was sent out the next day with Co. K as a guard with a construction train to repair the track. Before we left Lagrange, firing was heard in the direction of Davis’ Mills, nearly south of Lagrange and about 8 miles distant and Saulsbury was directly east about 10 miles at Grand Junction. Three miles east of Lagrange I learned that a cavalry scout had been sent out that morning of 3 or 4 companies. I went on with the team to within a mile or so of Saulsbury to where the track had been torn up, and the railroad hands commenced to straighten the rails and re-lay the track. When we had got this spot nearly finished, and order came from the commander of Grand Junction to bring the train back as it was in danger of being captured. I had, while waiting for the hands to repair the damages, sent a sergeant and ten men ahead with the Chief Engineer and Telegraph Operator to see how much damage had been done, expecting to soon catch up with them, but when the order to return came, I sent a land car ahead after them and after waiting about an hour, I returned without them. But the time I got to Lagrange, quite heavy firing was heard to the westward and I was told by a staff officer who was at the depot waiting for us to burry up to the regiment as they were waiting for us.
After getting to the regiment, we waited two hours during which time the firing to the westward grew heavier. At last, two aides came for us to go to the depot and take the cars for Moscow. When we reached Moscow, the firing was still heavy. We debarked and started for the scene of action, not half a mile distant, but by the time we got in range, the Rebs fell back without giving us a chance to fire a shot. We marched over the scene of conflict which was a narrow bend in the Wold River. The dead and wounded lay strewn about pretty loosely and any quantity of horses were piled up. Our losses were about 40 in killed, wounded & missing. The enemy’s loss was about 140 in all.
The next day we marched to Lafayette and found a goodly number of the Rebs wounded in homes along the road. In one house we found 5. We stayed in Lafayette ten days, By the way, the Rebs burnt the depot here the same night that the fight was at Moscow. The we marched to Moscow, stayed there a few days and marched to Lagrange where the men which I had left at Saulsbury joined us “all right.” Stayed in Lagrange a few days and left for Grand Junction. Stayed there a few more when we were ordered late in the afternoon to take the cars and go to Lafayette as quick as possible, When we got within three miles of there, we met a squad from two different regiments who had been driven out of Lafayette by Forrest’s forces. We deployed them as skirmishers ahead of the train and came slowly along for about a mile. When the enemy fired on the skirmishers, the train stopped and we debarked and formed, marched in line of battle to support the skirmishers or we went through a hell of a swamp, through head-top brush, through sloughs and mud half way up to our knees and it was raining hard all the time. In fact, had rained all day.
We came up to within a few rods of the skirmishers but could not see the enemy, it being dark and had been before we left the cars. Our skirmishers were firing rapidly as well as the enemy. We could see the flashes of the guns on both sides and the balls whistled over our heads pretty freely. At last the Rebs fell back. In fact, they had been doing that all the time for we kept coming up. We drove them out of Lafayette and laid out till 3 in the morning when we went to Collierville and expected to find them along the way closer than away from their camp fires but bot no fight out of them. One captain and one lieutenant out of the 25th Indiana were captured that day by getting behind.
The enemy lost at Lafayette 33 killed, 4 or 5 prisoners, and we found 15 wounded in one house the next day. Our loss was 4 killed, no missing, and 3 or 4 wounded. We stayed in Collierville part of a day and part of a night. We were waked up at 12 o’clock and ordered to rise at three. Marched to Mt. Pleasant and Hudsenville [?] to the Coldwater where we camped for the night. It took us two days to march back. It rained like “suds.”
The 2nd day [ ] as it rained in the morning, snowed at noon, and by night it was frozen hard enough to bear me up on the mud. I froze two of my fingers that day. When we got to Collierville, we had no tents and had to lay out doors and it was bitter cold. This was damn tough. Next day we got ahead of the companies—New Years Day—and about night moved off the conductor and engineer both drunk so we had a serious time. Think I never suffered more in a day in my life.
Got to Moscow and the engine had no wood or water. Stayed here all night waiting for another engine. This was a colder night than the one before. he boys stayed in sheds, in houses, and around fires and suffered a good deal. Next morning went by rail to Grand Junction where the boys got their tents, built winter quarters, and were pretty comfortable when we were ordered to march to this place. While we were at Grand Junction, those companies—A, F, C & H—who had got their horses, were allowed to turn them over and the saddles for the whole brigade were displaced off in a similar manner and we were dismounted again.
We are now ordered to prepare for “long and tedious marches.” Our pay is to come soon and we are to be rigged for a long campaign under Sherman with no baggage. We are ordered to turn over everything when we get to Memphis and will go there in a few days. The supposition is that we go to Texas or Mobile, which—I do not know. Think we will see plenty of fighting this spring. We take no tents along.
I wrote to you before I left Memphis last fall that I was in command of Co. K and I now state that I have been so all the time since the 17th day of September, 1863 and expect to stay in command for a while, “you bet.” I am 1st Lieutenant yet by may be something else after a while. It takes papers a great while to come around. Before—and in fact the day before we left Memphis—the Colonel asked me who I wished to send home & recruit for the company. I sent the Orderly, E. H. Benson, and I hear that he has more than recruits enough to fill the company up chock full. 98 enlisted—to the maximum. Old Tim Madden has enlisted. Old Bently of Poynette, ditto. And for my company too. The regiment, when the recruits get here, will number over a thousand again and there will not be a drafted man in it.
I shiuld have written you before but have been really busy making out my reports and being on the go a great deal. have but few opportunities. The Orderly visited Father’s folks and Miles’. He told some big yards about Lu which made the folks think I was going to marry a Southern girl. This pleased me and I defended the southern beauties with spirit. This settled the question in their minds and they think me spoken for. But John, you and me know how to come the “strategy.” Does John Hall stay with you and does he think of settling by you? Give him my best wishes. How are you financially? And when will you be able to enter your land? I will write to you again before we start on the “expedition.”
Direct to Memphis as usual and I will get your letters after a while. The mail generally follows a regiment unless they have their communications cut. I have written rather lengthy this time but will do so no more. Write soon. Your brother, — Lewis Low
Letter 7
Camp in the field 5 miles west of Jackson, Mississippi February 6, 1864
Brother John,
I was too busy to write you at Memphis or Vicksburg and can say but a few words now. The advance has been skirmishing with the enemy yesterday and today. I think they will not stand at Jackson. We will pursue, I think, till we chase them into their holes somewhere. I saw Father in Memphis. You probably know he is State Agent and will be south for two or three months. I am in hopes I shall see him again before the expiration of my term. I think I shall come home after this campaign is over on a leave of absence—say in June or August.
Write me as usual giving the company and regiment but address me as Lieutenant till you hear from me again. I will soon be Captain. Your brother, — Lewis
Letter 8
On board transport “Era” 15 miles below Helena, Arkansas March 14, 1864
Brother John,
I think it is about time I answered your last. You no doubt think I am not going to hurry myself about the matter, In due time you will perceive that it has been no fault of mine. You see by the heading that I am aboard the bosom of the waters again. Neptune, I fear, will get disgusted with freedom with which I make his element and raise a muss one of these “poetic” mornings. I wrote you some time last winter that the 32nd were going to form part of a column which would raid it through Mississippi & raise hell with the Rebs. Well, we went out on said raid and are on our way back again but mind you, we are not going to stay in Memphis or its vicinity during the summer, but go to Athens, Tennessee in the vicinity of Knoxville & Chattanooga near to the Georgia line.
By the bye, your having read by this time of Sherman’s great raid into central Mississippi and knowing that you had a brother connected with it, you probably feel anxious to hear something from his own pen in relation to it. The 4th Division of the 16th Corps de Armie, left Memphis February 1st in transports for Vicksburg where we arrived on the 3rd, disembarked and marched out east of the city 5 miles where the 3rd Division—Smith’s—joined us. We left on the 4th and the 17th Corps started about the same time from Natchez, all marching eastward, we crossing Big Black River at Messengers Ferry on pontoons—they are the bridge. After three days march we reached Jackson where the 17th Corps joined us, they having captured the Reb’s pontoons which was already laid down along Pearl River at this place.
The 32nd [Wisconsin] was the last regiment to cross and had to destroy the pontoons after them and had to march till two the next morning to catch up with the main body. Jackson is 50 miles east of Vicksburg. We marched to Meridian—the great railway center—going through Brandon, Hillsboro, Decatur, & Morton, all of which placed we sacked and burned, in some not leaving a house. Our march was along the Mississippi & Alabama Railroad which was completely destroyed.
At Meridian we destroyed their hospitals, arsenals, machine shops, barracks, and at the last place we destroyed the railroad for 25 miles in each direction making 100 in all. Here the army divided out for a day or two to destroy things. Our brigade had a little brush at Marion, 8 miles north of Meridian. Co. K only had three or four shots at the fleeing rebs. The army came back by a different route from that which they went out on and destroyed all the property in our reach, brought in about 5,000 negroes, and some 3 or 4 hundred prisoners. Had a few smart skirmishes, 1 wounded and one killed in Co. B [?] by straggling. That is all.
Meridian is 150 miles east of Vicksburg. I will write you more at another time. Direct to Cairo. I have got my commission as captain of Co. K, dated February 30, so you can address me as Captain Low. Guess I will stay in Co. K a while yet. I will be in Memphis by tomorrow evening & will see “dad” there. Your brother, — Lewis
Letter 9
Memphis [Tennessee] March 16, 1864
Brother John,
I have been so busy that I have failed to mail the letter I wrote you while on the river. That & this is my only apology for not communicating with you sooner. Arrived i Memphis safe, sound, and well. We are camped on the Arkansas shore and I have to run across the river frequently thereby taking up much of my time. We are making preparations to leave here but how soon that will be, I know not. We have no tents and the weather is very cool for this climate this season of the year. I will write to you as soon as I get to a stopping place. When that will be, I do not know. You can direct to Co. K, as usual leaving off the place but simply say, via Cairo.
I see Father eavery day now and it seems almost like being home. I will probably be home in May or June. If I do not come this summer, it will be very likely that I do not come till the war is over or my time expires. I want to come home on Mother’s account more than anything else and then there is that on my mind which you spoke of. Guess I won’t pull much wool over your eyes nor do I want to. But I keep Miles & Melissa & Mother in a stew. They think I am going to marry some Southern girl. Now you know I am not “heavy” on the [ ].
I received a letter from a very bewitching girl in Fall River. I will of course answer it and keep up a flirtation but it must not get out or it will raise hell with me in another quarter. Your brother, Capt. Lewis Low
Letter 10
Decatur, Alabama May 8, 1864
Brother John,
I hardly know when I wrote you last or when I last heard direct from you. One thing is certain, it is time you communicated with the army. And fearing that you will suspend me for not making my usual report. I hear that Father is home and think he is, but still I have not heard from them so I do not know positively. I hardly think he will go back to Memphis though he may come to Nashville. I have not heard how our people are getting along with spring work. I think that they must be later than usual on account of the season. You must be busy too with your work. How many acres have you to put in? John, I want you to make arrangements to break up a good piece this summer. If you wish to run a team of your own and have not team enough, you can take my 4 year olds and probably Father would let you have his 5 year olds. I hope you have heard from the Dept. in relation to your land and that you have bought it—at least I hope so. I am anxious to hear from you and from home & hear how you are all getting along, &c.
I think I wrote you once since I came to this place. Most of the troops from this vicinity have left and have gone to Chattanooga and will go from there to the front with Sherman who will, no doubt, take Atlanta. Think though that there will be some hard fighting in that direction before a great while. Grant will clean the Rebs out of Richmond and that vicinity this summer. This done and the Rebellion is used up. They even now are getting heartily sick of it and are deserting. Deserters still continue to come into our lines at this place. 85 came in in one squad day before yesterday and half of them enlisted into our army.
We are bothered on the picket line almost every day. The enemy seem delighted when they can get into a skirmish either us. They maneuver in all shapes to get us at a disadvantage and watch close to try and take us by surprise but we have thus far been too heavy for them. They even brought up 3 cannon a few days ago but did not succeed in driving the reserve in at all. We have had several short skirmishes with them. A few nights ago they attacked the line at midnight and kept it up till 7 the next morning when I came out with a fresh lot of men to relieve the others. The rebs, seeing us, fell back and during the 24 hours that I was on, they only fired 20 or 30 shots and whenever we advanced on them, they fell back. This morning they attacked our lines about daylight but it being a usual thing, it created no stir till the fire became general along the entire line though by far the heaviest in the center. We then fell in and went into the fortifications—our camp is inside of the works—where we could see all that was going on on both sides. The Rebs drove our cavalry & infantry pickets—about 150—back one quarter of a mile when 4 small companies of cavalry went out and the whole file charged the Rebs on the run, the infantry on the left and the cavalry on the right. The Rebs thinking that we must have a heavy support threw down their guns and ran, our men firing till the enemy opened a battery on us. This we in turn charged and they limbered up and skedaddled. So ended the skirmish of this morning.
We lost but one killed and 8 or ten wounded. The enemy’s loss could not be ascertained as they were seen carrying off a great many wounded. We took a few prisoners who say that this place will be attacked by ten thousand men with 48 hours. We have only about 24 hundred but can defend the place against that number successfully. We are strongly fortified. If there is a fight here, I will write to you immediately afterwards. We have been building fortifications day and night for a week past and we will have them completed. Then the Rebs may come just as fast as they choose. I have not heard from Miles & Melissa in a long time. Think they are all busy in spring work. I hope we will get paid off in a week or so. There is over 4 months pay due us now.
May 13th. I did not send this as soon as I expected to thinking I would wait the said 48 hours and see what it might bring forth. There has been no fighting at all on the lines till yesterday afternoon. I was on picket myself in charge of the extreme left of the line. The center was attacked about 2 o’clock but the boys soon drove them back. If it had not been for a mistake at guard mounting in the Sergt. Major, I would have been in the center. It seems to be my luck lately to keep clear of all brushes with the enemy.
I believe I told you that Samuel Dumbleton was drowned [on 26 March 1864] at Paducah, Kentucky. Add Webb’s time is out in May. Our armies in Louisiana & Arkansas seem to have got badly scooped this spring but Grant is doing the thing up brown and you will soon hear from Sherman. I should like to come home this spring but will no doubt have to wait till the campaign is over. I guess that Bert don’t get along so well at home as you used to but keep still about it. You know he is not given to heavy work but rather the reverse. I have got a good thing [ ] Fall River gal. Don’t think I’m trying to pull wool over you [ ]. Write soon and an old fashioned letter let it be. Your brother, — Lewis Low, Capt.
Letter 11
Decatur, Alabama June 4, 1864
Brother John,
Yours of the 26th ult. is at hand, just received. Have been looking for a letter from you for some time. I wrote you some time since but it appears that you have not as yet received it. I am glad to hear that you are going to breaking up some more land. Hope you will break up 40 or 50 acres this season for the more you break, the better it is for you. I suppose that there is plenty of wild pasture and will be for some years so that you can cultivate all the land that you break.
I wish you had went home and got a yoke of my steers—the 4 year olds—if they would answer your purpose and afterwards sell them and use the money. If cattle are high after harvest, go home, drive out my two yoke and [ ] yours with as many as Father wishes to send. Whether this will pay or not, you can best judge for you all on the spot. I think your head is all right on the land speculation. Go in or as deep as you wish. I will back you. Remember one thing though, John—that there is going to be hard times soon after this war closes but I am not able to say whether it will affect the land speculation or not. There will be a host of men thrown out of employment which will reduce the price and demand for laborers, and it may have the effect of throwing a great many out into the new countries in search of homes. This may make the times with you just as good as ever and possibly better.
You’re right, however, there is a good deal between this and next spring. If Bart does not take that 80 of prairie which you have bid for—provided you get it—do not feel alarmed. It will be a good thing for you. It will then make you a nice large farm. Don’t feel squeamish about taking in for fear you cannot. Swing clear for all you have to do is to call on my pile in Father’s hands and the money shall come. I do not wish to have a little one-horse farm in a few years from now, but a large one—one that you will not be cramped up in when pasture becomes scarce. I shall send home in a few days, I think, about $300 and by the 1st of July the Government will owe me $260 more. But do not expect to get it till they owe me as much more. My pay is $130.50 per month now—a pretty good thing for a boy like me. I was in hopes of hearing something from Phine Kidd through you and feel disappointed that you too have played off on her. What a rakish set these Lows are?
I hear from Miles occasionally.. Had a letter from him a few days since. He says the girls are all right. That Miss Sarah Hand is teaching in Poynette and that Alma is teaching in Lodi. Think they must give satisfaction at one place so long. I must write to Mrs. White and see what has become of “Dulcinea.”
We went on a reconnoissance a few days ago and had a little brush with the foe. After going some four miles, we found their pickets which we drove in and kept up a skirmish with them till 9 at night, steadily driving them all the time. We drove them 18 miles from where we first found their pickets about 3 in the afternoon and as we were coming out of a piece of woods, they opened a battery of three guns on us, the first shell bursting over [Company] K but doing no damage. They shelled us pretty lively for a few moments but our battery opened on them and exploded one of their caissons, killing several men and horses. They had 5 more guns in reserve but did not use them. They all skeddaddled like wild fire before us. They had two regiments and a battalion of cavalry and one regiment of infantry and an 8 gun battery. We had three regiments of infantry, a regiment of cavalry with a 4 gun battery. I cannot say how many Rebs we killed but I saw one dead Reb Major and a Captain, besides a good many privates. Our cavalry lost 5 wounded, two killed. One regiment had 3 wounded—slightly only. About a week afterwards a regiment and two guns of our battery went out and were driven back and came near losing the cannon.
I have jumped David Chase & Charles Carman and have appointed those who I think are deserving to be sergeant. Write soon, John, and direct to me at Decatur, Alabama
— Lewis Low, Capt.
Do all in your power for Lincoln. Kill Fremont at the polls, Make him smell bad. Go for “Old Abe.” Don’t by any means help that damn Fremont. I shall not vote for him in any emergency. Abe is my first and last choice. If Fremont is nominated at Baltimore. I shall [quit?] the ticket.
Letter 12
Decatur, Alabama July 3, 1864
Brother John,
Yours of the 17th of June is at hand containing the photograph. You have changed some in two years but for better, I think—at least it is a dang good picture. I suppose you had it taken for some fair creature who is skirmishing for a position on your staff. You have repeatedly told me that there was nothing but Hoosiers, Suckers, Squaws and half breeds in that section of country. Now don’t try to throw sand in my eyes in that way. I’ll bet 40 rounds of whiskey that there is a nice girl up there that you are very intimate with and with whom you have layed plans for future campaigns and are trying to lead me away from your base. Be this as it may, you have my best wishes. You are deserving of a nice little woman.
I hope you have had rain long ere this for I see by the papers that it was heavy at Wynona. Our people have been fortunate enough to have a nice shower and the prospect is good for about half a crop but no more. I learn, however, wheat is bringing $2 per bushel which is as good as a full crop at 90 cents or $1. It may be that the people are a little scared and excited. Mother writes me that you have concluded to take my money and buy land in speculation. All right. When does Burt intend to go to Minnesota? What can you get 200 acres for and can you get that much in a nice locality where every foot could be made plow land and not over three miles from timber and [ ] you 40 acres of timber? I merely ask for information—not knowing what may happen. I should [have] said 200 acres to be prairie. I expect a “blow up” at headquarters in Lowville in every sense of the word. I will tell you something about it.
Father and Mother both seem to feel exercised for fear that I will or will not get married—that I will marry somebody because she suits me and that I will not first canvass the matter with them. They want to have me tell them if I am engaged and how many years we had better be on probation and what I intended to do after the war was over. Now how in the devil can I tell what I shall do> And in regard to getting a wife, when I conclude to marry, in all probability there will be no hanging back to get old people’s consent. I shall not marry as a matter of convenience to myself, let alone anyone else. This idea of marrying is a matter which concerns me and me alone and I’ll be hanged if I don’t do as I please about it and have so written to them. They will no doubt tell me to go my way and do as I please—that I need not look to them for aid and comfort—at least I expect such will be the case. I can’t help it if it is. Have got sick and tired of hearing about the matter of matrimony. In my next, I can tell you how to cut [ ] and if it against me, I will want you to look out for about 200 acres of good prairie which I will then want you to buy for me and I will send you the money immediately after next pay day which will probably be the 15th of September. Do you think there will be any good prices of land at that time? If however, the thing should not go as I anticipate it will, then I will not want the land. At all events, I can let you know by my next.
I must not close this without getting in a little military news. Think I told you that we had been ordered to join Sherman & that we got one days march in that direction when we were ordered back to this place where we have remained ever since. Then a week ago today we were ordered out with one days rations with 5 of the companies of this regiment and a like number from the 17th Army Corps; 22nd Indiana and 18th Michigan. Went out a mile and found their pickets which were driven in. Companies A & K were then ordered to the front as skirmishers and were ordered to lay down close to the enemy but out of gunshot [range]. We could plainly hear the enemy giving orders to their skirmishers and wanted to go at them but the commander of the expedition would not let us. We layed there till 12 at night when we were ordered back to camp. Stayed here one day when [Company] K was ordered to go again with the regiments above mentioned. We were the advance guard sent out on the Courtland road four miles, turned to the right down a narrow lane which ran to the river reaching which we went down its banks going through fields, through woods, and at times finding it difficult to get our three ambulances through. At 5 in the afternoon, we found a wood road and were joined by 700 cavalry (4th Tennessee).
At dark we come out upon a main road which we took and kept till at night when we halted for a rest. One company being in advance was sent out on picket, At 12 we started again, one company sent to the extreme rear. Marched till daylight when we heard the enemy’s bugles, formed line of battle and moved forward. Our company was ordered to the front on the left of the line as skirmishers and had to double quick for half a mile to get to our position as the whole column was moving forward. Got to our place, deployed and charged the enemy on the double quick. Drove them out for the troops behind to gobble up. They now doing all the [ ] while we did all the work. While they were getting plunder, we were a mile and a half ahead chasing the enemy away from their camp, killing one of their men, followed them through the fields for half a mile when we were relieved by other companies. My men by this time were tired out. we captured 50 horses, 200 stands of arms, 30 [ ]. One company charged directly through their camp and left everything. — Lewis
Letter 13
Decatur, Alabama July 31, 1864
Brother John,
Yours of the 15th is at hand. Found it waiting me on the return from a 3 days scout which we have been enjoying. You of course want to know what we are doing and all about our little affairs.
A week ago today a detail of 20 men and one sergeant from this regiment were sent out on the Courtland Road 6 miles for the purpose of bringing in goods belonging to refugees. While out, they were attacked by 75 mounted Rebs. They fought them and retreated 4 miles when they were surrounded and 9 men and the sergeant taken prisoners. The balance—eleven [men]—broke for a piece of woods and all succeeded in getting in.
The next day, 25th, an expedition consisting of the 32d Wisconsin, 25th Indiana, 18th Michigan and six companies of the 3rd Tennessee cavalry and two pieces of artillery—12 pounders—marched from here at 3 o’clock p.m. in the direction of Courtland, Went 12 miles and camped. Next day, 25th, we laid all day in ambush till 6 at night when this regiment attempted to make a detour of the Rebel camp 3 miles distant but had not gone a mile when we were fired upon by a Reb picket ad they then knew that we were trying to make a flank movement and they decamped though we kept on coming in where we intended but finding no enemy. This is the [same] place where my company charged them some time since so early in the morning. The place is called by the boys “Pond Spring” [but] the proper name is Linn Spring. Her we were joined by the balance of the cavalry and after eating breakfast, proceeded to Courtland where the rebs opened on us with both musketry and artillery from a piece of woods not more than 20 rods from us. The woods were skirted by a deep creek which enclosed [ ]. We were in an open field and had to take their fire for thirty minutes without having a chance to fire a shot in retaliation. We formed our line under fire, then laid down and our artillery soon silenced theirs. We then moved forward, the enemy getting like hell. It was a mighty hot fire, John. The balls come pretty thick and very close. It is strange that they did not kill more of us. One man in Co. C was killed by a cannon ball. One in the 18th was killed with a musket ball. Ten or twelve in all were wounded. How many the enemy lost, I don’t know, but they left 4 or 5 dead and carried some off.
I must say that Company K behaved splendidly, though I am its commander. They kept a perfect line, halted and dressed up. They also deployed right under fire just as cooly as though they were on drill or dress parade.
How much breaking have you in all? I received a letter from Father last night. He says that he will not cut more than 20 or 30 acres of wheat so that he will be short for fodder. He is going to send you the old wagon by John Miller and that he may send out a lot if you have young stock. Guess it would be well for me to send out mine and let you sell them. [ ] for he is so short of fodder, you can sell mine for what you can get for grain is so high that they would have to sell for a large pile to get much for her in the spring.
In regard to your buying any land to speculate on, I think you had better not, from this fact. Father will have to have a good deal of my money to live on and keep things up and he of course will not realize a crop from the farm this year. You need not look for any land for me for the old people wish me to come home and the [ ] which was a critical one to me, thy have to defend their position and it is perfectly satisfactory—woman.
I received a letter from Miles also last night. He is in Milwaukee. I hope youwill not be drafted and that Burt will not though the call is large and I fear it may take one of you. Yet I am glad the call is made and would not have him—the President—recall his proclamation though I knew you both would be drafted. If you are, John, it is only for one year.
I hope and believe you will make a good thing trapping and I do not care what “civilized” people call it. If I were there. I should go with you. It is just such an expedition as I should like. You want to take a good rifle with you and plenty of ammunition. Take a gallon or two of good whiskey along if you can trust to do so with the men you are to take with you. It is getting late, John, and I must retire. Write to me after and be sure to do so just before you start. Your brother, — Lewis
Letter 14
Lowville [Wisconsin] March 3, 1865
Brother John,
I have not written you since we left Atlanta which was in November last. I told you then that I had been home and had the good luck to get me a wife &c. &c., that it came in asa natural consequence.
I was sick when Sherman’s army started for Savannah but went through with them. Was sick when we arrived at the aforementioned place, went with the command to Hilton head and Beaufort, was in the officer’s hospital at the latter place some 8 or ten days when I received a furlough for 20 days to come home. Came home via New York City and have been here about six weeks. Have had my leave of absence extended twice. Will probably leave here for the regiment next week Wednesday, the 8th, unless I hear that you expect to come home soon in which case I would wait one week longer so that I could see you.
You no doubt do not know anything about the news from the last three months. I will therefore give you a brief synopsis of all the important events which have transpired since your banishment from civilization. In November last, Hood threw his whole army in Sherman’s rear and succeeded in doing a great deal of damage to the railroad. Sherman followed with the most of is army till he became satisfied that Hood was determined to attempt an invasion of Tennessee and at the same time compel Sherman to leave Atlanta. He then sent two Corps back to Nashville under Gen. Thomas—the 4th & 23rd Corps. Hood went to within 4 miles of Nashville and laid siege to it thinking he was doing a big thing but one fine morning in the early part of December, Thomas attacked him and drove Hood back, giving him an awful thrashing. Our forces captured 7,000 prisoners and 61 pieces of artillery. The Rebs lost in killed and wounded about 10,000 besides as many as that number of deserters.
While these movements were going on, Sherman with the 15th, 17th, 14th, and 20th Army Corps evacuated Atlanta after having completely destroyed the railroad in every direction but instead of having to fall back as the Rebs thought, he just took a straight shoot right through the Confederacy and came out on the Atlantic coast at Savannah, Ga. We left Atlanta on the 5th of November and reached Savannah on the 10th of December when we laid siege to it and took it on the 21st of December. Stayed here till the 2nd of January when the 17th and 15th Army Corps went by water to Beaufort where they commenced to operate against Charleston, S. C. while the other two Army Corps went by land to stir up the state of South Carolina in a way that was not at all pleasant for the inhabitants to contemplate. Sherman succeeded in compelling the Johnnies to evacuate and our forces marched in and raised the old flag again which now floats over Fort Sumter and Moultrie as proudly as in the days of old. Our forces have also taken all the important railroad towns in the state and destroyed the roads so that it will be years before the whistle of the “Bullgins” [?] will be heard again. The Capitol of the State, Clumbia, was burnt. We have also taken Augusta, Georgia. Wilmington is in our possession. The Government is just putting into the field 300,000 more men which will sweep the Reb armies from the face of the earth in three months. Wisconsin has raised several new regiments—up to 52 is the number now from this state.
The 32nd have been in a fight since I came awy. they lost 17 killed and 64 wounded. Lt. Markham was wounded and Capt. Eickles killed. Co. K lost six wounded, none killed. The wounded in Co. K are Corp. [Joseph] Carter, John McCann, Michael Gunderson, W. W. Sizer, T[imothy] Foley, & F[rederick]. Vergeals [?] Bert’s regiment (42nd) is in Cairo yet.
Now Jack, what do you intend to do when you come out this spring? If you can do better in Minnesota this summer, why then stay there. If not, come home to work for “dad.” He will give you good wages. You can in this case sell your team there or bring it home and sell it during the summer. If you want to stay in Minnesota and get you a farm there, all right. And you shall have all the help we can possibly spare.
I have fixing upon a plan which between you and me I think will work. I will submit it to you and you can act upon it as you think best. One thing we all know and that is that Father is too old and feeble to take care of his farm alone. He wants me to come back and work on it. I think of going into the house on the hill. With what money I will have and what Bert will have, there will be money enough to buy Bert a place nearby. That will settle Bert. Now for you and me. I think that by hard work that you and me could make money off the farm and that in time we could pay off Melissa & we—you and me—eventually have this farm. I don’t know that you will fall in with my whims of the matter, but it does seem to be perfectly feasible. Father and Mother sometimes think it would be best to sell out here and all go to Minnesota and get larger places for us all. This you will know more about than I do and could therefore best advise them. Father and Mother wants you to do just what you think best if there is a chance to make money here this summer, I would stay. When I come home in the fall, I may go out there and buy me a farm and I may not—it will depend upon how the “cor. rams” in my propositions above mentioned. If I could see you and have a good talk with you, I could better make you acquainted with my ideas.
Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain your brother, — Lewis Low
Pip: Dispatches from people who really, really wanted to be somewhere else — welcome to Spared and Shared.
Mara: This episode draws on letters Griff has tracked down and transcribed, covering soldiers writing home from the Civil War front, and one earlier letter touching on family news and the politics of the day.
Pip: Let’s start with the battlefield letters — there are a lot of them, and they carry a lot of weight.
Letters From the Front Lines
Mara: The question running through all of these letters is the same one soldiers have always faced: how do you describe where you are and what you’re doing to someone who has no frame of reference for it?
Pip: Hamp Squires, writing to his brother-in-law Jetur White from a sandbank camp three miles from Helena, Arkansas in March 1863, finds his frame of reference in home. He writes: “The sand reminds me of Old Long Island but it is not quite so nice and white.”
Mara: That one line does a lot of work. He’s placing himself on a map his reader can picture, and in the same breath making clear the distance between that familiar image and where he actually is.
Pip: And then the letter just keeps going — card games, hard crackers for dinner, the river fifteen feet from the tent. The biography attached to Hamp’s letter is something else entirely: captured at Brice’s Cross Roads, sent to Andersonville, wasted from 175 pounds down to 80, and somehow secreted 60 cents past the guards to buy paper and write a letter that reached him six months later.
Mara: That biographical detail reframes the breezy tone of the 1863 letter entirely. He didn’t know yet what was coming.
Pip: The letter from Joseph Kerschner to his brother Edward in October 1862 runs on a similar frequency — practical, almost businesslike. Joseph has just received his discharge and is heading to Annapolis to chase a commission, while Edward, an assistant surgeon, had already survived the sinking of the Cumberland when the Virginia rammed her.
Mara: And Calvin, writing to his mother from camp near Fairfax in January 1863, is doing something different again. He writes: “I am happy in reading my bible and Saint’s Rest, and mother, you wrote that you hoped I would discharge my duty as a Christian. I will try to do so and my mother’s advice shall ever be borne in mind.”
Pip: That’s a soldier managing his mother’s worry as carefully as he’s managing his own.
Mara: William Bartlett’s letter from near Fredericksburg is the most domestic of the set — he spends most of it coordinating a care package: tobacco, notepaper, envelopes, maybe stockings, routed through Springfield to save on express fees.
Pip: Logistics of love, essentially.
Mara: Horace Derry’s two letters to his mother span April 1862 near Yorktown and November 1862 near Falmouth, just before Fredericksburg, where he’d lose his leg. The November letter captures the army in a holding pattern: mud, misdirected guard details, raw pork on the march, and pickets close enough to the Confederate line to have a conversation across the Rappahannock.
Pip: And then there’s Greenwood Norris, eighteen years old, writing from Beaufort, South Carolina on July 8, 1862, saying the island is the healthiest around. He died three days later, or possibly three weeks — the records disagree, but not about the outcome.
Mara: Walworth Porter’s letter from St. Louis in May 1862 rounds out the set — writing to his brother Sam before heading out with the 3rd Wisconsin Cavalry, already nursing a bad cold, already watching a comrade’s body being retrieved from Pittsburg Landing.
Pip: Seven letters, and the through line is the same: the ordinary texture of days, written by people who had no idea which letter might be the last.
Mara: That gap between the mundane and the mortal is what makes the archive matter. Which brings us to correspondence that never touched a battlefield at all.
A Letter Between Brothers-in-Law
Mara: The 1848 letter from Noah Wells to his brother-in-law Hiram Bell is a different register entirely — a schoolmaster’s letter, measured and expansive, covering an election, a Thanksgiving sermon, and a riot outside his window.
Pip: He writes: “I hope, therefore, no more will be heard about hickory poles, or ash poles, or hard cider, connected with the dignified business of electing a president for twenty millions of people.”
Mara: That’s Noah reacting to Zachary Taylor’s victory, arguing that New York’s electoral weight decided it, and hoping the spectacle of campaigning gives way to something more principled. The letter from Augustine Sackett, writing to his sister Flora from a gunboat on the Broad River in July 1863, keeps the family-news frequency going — asking after their father, wondering who will run the mowing machine, and noting that watermelons have become a significant event in the ship’s summer.
Pip: Priorities, correctly ordered.
Mara: Both letters are doing the same quiet work: maintaining connection across distance, filling in the texture of ordinary life for someone who isn’t there to see it.
Pip: What stays with me is how consistent the impulse is — soldier or schoolmaster, 1848 or 1863, everyone is trying to close the gap between where they are and where the person reading them is.
Mara: And the letters that survive are the ones that made it through. Next episode, we’ll see what else Griff has found waiting in the archive.
Spared & Shared 23 