Pip: There is something quietly remarkable about a fifteen-year-old boy writing home from the siege lines at Petersburg to remind his brother not to ride the horse too much — and meaning every word of it.
Mara: That letter is one of several Griff has published this week on Spared and Shared 23, pulling together soldiers writing to family and a pair of cousins keeping up a correspondence across the war years.
Pip: Letters that were never meant to be history — just news from wherever the regiment happened to be camped that week.
Mara: Let's start with the soldiers and the letters they sent home.
Soldiers Writing To Family
Mara: The question running through all of these letters is a simple one: what do you actually say to the people at home when the gap between your world and theirs has become almost impossible to bridge?
Pip: Richard Coke Marshall, writing to his sister from camp near Culpeper Court House in August 1863, threads that needle with a kind of matter-of-fact intimacy. He sets up the stakes plainly: "We are now so close to the Yankees that we can hear their drums and bugles as distinctly as our own."
Mara: And then in the same letter he pivots to laundry. He cannot find anyone to wash his clothes in the deserted countryside and suspects he is grinding the dirt in rather than getting it out. The domestic and the dangerous exist in the same paragraph without any apparent tension.
Pip: That compression is the whole thing, isn't it — the letter has to carry everything at once because there may not be another one soon.
Mara: Manning Austin's letter to his sister Julia, written from Leesburg in June 1863, does something similar but at higher velocity. Austin had just come through the cavalry engagements around Middleburg, where three squadrons charged Confederate-held woods after the First Maine was repulsed. He describes tracking down a man he shot, finding him where he fell, shot through the heart.
Pip: He reports it the way you'd report finding a lost tool.
Mara: William Brimblecom, writing from the Field Hospital at City Point in April 1865, has the opposite register entirely — almost literary. He describes the final assault on Petersburg: "Minié balls buzzed like mad hornets, round shot screamed like angry hawks, and shells burst so that one could almost read by the light of them."
Pip: What that sentence is actually doing is telling his mother he was calm through all of it — cool as a cucumber, he says, while his lieutenant was too scared to speak and his captain ran for a ravine.
Mara: Brimblecom's letter carries a second weight. He enlisted under a false name, James Maynard, apparently to escape shame connected to his drinking. He closes by telling his mother the rum is out of him now, and he hopes it stays out, but cannot promise.
Pip: The war as detox program — not the framing the recruiting posters used.
Mara: John Laur's thirty-two letters to his parents span August 1864 through May 1865, and they are a different kind of document entirely. Laur was fifteen when he enlisted, almost certainly with the recruiting officer's knowledge. There is no patriotism in the letters — he wanted the adventure and the bounty money, and he says so plainly.
Mara: The letters are full of practical logistics: overcoats sent home, stamps requested, the box of food that took weeks to arrive and arrived with the chickens moldy. He worries about whether his father will be drafted and tells him to use the bounty to hire a substitute if it comes to that.
Pip: Thirty-two letters and not one of them tries to sound like a soldier. They sound like a teenager who happens to be at Petersburg.
Mara: Earl Byron Pierce's letter from Harpers Ferry in October 1862 is the shortest and the most haunting in retrospect. He wrote it barely a month after muster, ten weeks before he was killed at Fredericksburg. He mentions that Lincoln came through and looked about the same as he did passing through North East, Pennsylvania. He tells his brother not to enlist because he could never stand it.
Pip: John Avery's letter to his friend Charles Cooley from Camp Wool in August 1862 has that same reassuring energy — he likes it well and dandy, he says, and he would not come back until the war is closed. The regiment had not yet seen a battle.
Mara: The letters that survive are often the ones written before things got hard, or after, when the writer had made a kind of peace with where they were. The ones from the middle tend not to make it home at all.
Marshall And Christy Correspondence
Pip: The Christy letters add a different angle — not soldier to family but soldier to cousin, which allows for a slightly different kind of honesty.
Mara: William Christy, writing to his cousin Achsah Marshall from Pittsburg Landing in April 1862, just days after Shiloh, puts it directly: "I could stand in one place and count 300 dead."
Pip: That is not a detail you soften for a cousin. That is a detail you need someone to know.
Mara: His brother Marshall Christy writes Achsah three years later from Goldsboro, North Carolina, and the tone has shifted entirely — he is almost playful, complimenting her letter-writing, teasing a cousin named Louis about penmanship. The war is nearly over and he knows it, and the letter reads like someone beginning to think about what comes next.
Pip: From counting the dead at Shiloh to critiquing correspondence style by April 1865. That is the arc of three years in two letters.
Mara: What stays with you across all of these is how consistent the impulse is — tell them you are well, ask about the youngest sibling, say you will write again soon.
Pip: The form held even when everything else was falling apart. Next time, more of what the mail carried back.
The following letter was written by Richard Coke Marshall (1844-1914), the son of Fielding Lewis Marshall (1819-1902) and Rebecca Frances Coke (1824-1862) of Oak Hill, Fauquier county, Virginia. He was but sixteen years of age at the outbreak of the civil war, and entered the Confederate service as a member of Co. H, 6th Virginia Cavalry when he turned 18. At the battle of Trevillian’s Station between the forces of General Phil H. Sheridan and General Wade Hampton, June 11, 1864, he was shot through the lung, which so disabled him that he was unable to again enter service until near the close of the struggle. In 1865 he became aide-de-camp on the staff of General Thomas L. Rosser, and was at Appomattox Court House, but did not surrender with General Lee and his army for the reason that Rosser’s command was then surrounded and cut off from Lee’s forces.
After the Civil War, Richard attended the Virginia Military Institute and became a prominent civil engineer and politician.
[Note: This letter comes from the private collection of Greg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Two members of the 6th Virginia Cavalry—the younger man at left has been identified as Stephen Clinton Adams of Co. K, 6th Virgina Cavalry. He was from Loudoun county, Va.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp near Culpeper Court House August 9th 1863
My dear Sister,
I received Peggie’s letter of the 20th inst. day before yesterday which I was very glad to get and you do not know how much pleasure it would give me to hear from you every week. I have written four or five times to you & have only received three letters, all of which were from Peggie. All of those were two or three weeks old.
We had a fight near Brandy [Station] about a week ago but neither Uncle William nor myself was hurt. We are now so close to the Yankees that we can hear their drums and bugles as distinctly as our own. Our brigade is in the advance and our pickets are about one hundred and fifty yards from the Yanks. They have also a very heavy infantry force on this side of the Rappahannock so before this will have reached you, we will, I expect, be driven back to the Rapidan. But as Uncle William says, we will fight & cry a little before they do. The Yanks are behaving most outrageously in Loudoun and Fauquier [counties]. As a general thing, they have taken away everything—even the clothing—and some people are forced to draw rations from the Yankee commissary. Charles, up to the latest accounts, had managed to save Zetta although they had taken several of his horses.
We have had the warmest weather I ever felt for the last week & rain almost every evening so I get pretty well washed off everyday. You know “variety is the spice of life.” I have not seen cousin Marshall for some time as his battery is the other side of the Rapidan. I have the greatest difficulty in getting my clothes washed. This country is so deserted that you can get nothing done. You ought to see me washing. I think as a general thing that I ground the dirt in my clothes instesad of getting them clean.
The cavalry has had very hard service ever since I joined it. To give you an idea of what we have to do, we were in Maryland about thirteen days and had nine fights, which I think was rather too much of a good thing.
Give my love to Aunt & L Ann, the children, and all at Mr. Harrison’s. Write every week to your affectionate brother, — R. C. Marshall
My dear Father,
This is the fourth time that I have written to you and [ ] letter. If you knew how much pleasure it gives me to hear from you, you would write oftener. I am ay the present not very well but expect to be so in a day or two. I am now much better than I have been. This hot sun and Culpeper water does not agree with me but I have stood it much better than I expected.
The Yankees have built the bridge across the Rappahannock and their cars running every day. Meade’s Headquarters are in Warrenton and he has a very heavy force of infantry, cavalry, and artillery on this side of the river. They drove on our pickets in the dirctio of Beverly’s Ford yesterday evening but did nothing more. My boots are worn out and I wish you would send me a pair by the first opportunity. I will send you the money for them.
Our mess is entirely without a servant. Please send for William at once and send him to me. We have to do our own cooking, washing. Uncle William wants to hire a servant very much and will be very glad to take him with me. I cannot leave to go for him.
An unidentified drummer of the 34th Massachusetts Infantry.
The following letter was written by John Avery (b. 1839) of Co. D, 34th Massachusetts Infantry. At the time of his enlistment, John was 21 years old and was described as 5 foot 9 3/4 inches tall, with dark hair and dark eyes—a farmer. He gave his birthplace as Westfield and his residence as Holyoke. His enlistment on 9 July 1862 was for three years. He entered as a private but was appointed a corporal in May 1864, and was promoted to sergeant in January 1865. Muster rolls state that he participated in the battles at New Market, Piedmont, and at Cedar Creek, Virginia. In the Battle at Piedmont he was wounded in the foot, but later returned to fight at Hatcher’s Run, at Fort Gregg, and Appomattox Court House.
According to historian Dan Masters, the 34th spent most of the first year of its service in the defenses of Washington, D.C. and Harper’s Ferry, missing out on such battles as Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg. They were a spit and polish regiment, and one veterans of the Army of the Potomac would refer to as “band box soldiers….Raised in the five western counties of Massachusetts, the 34th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry entered service in response to Lincoln’s call for 300,000 more volunteers in the summer of 1862. The regiment spent months serving in the defenses of Washington, D.C. before being dispatched to Harper’s Ferry on July 9, 1863 in the closing stages of the Gettysburg campaign. But it wasn’t until New Market that the 34th Massachusetts got into a stand-up fight with the Confederates and suffered heavily in that engagement, losing 39 men killed and a total of 221 casualties in the regiment. The regiment would see extensive action in the Shenandoah Valley in the ensuing months, taking part in the battles of Piedmont, Lynchburg, Snicker’s Gap, Opequon, Fisher’s Hill, Stickley’s Farm near Cedar Creek, and Cedar Creek a few days later. The unidentified drummer above is wearing a field musician’s uniform with a Massachusetts belt buckle. The piping on the jacket would have been light blue in color.” [See The Purple Heart of Hell: The 34th Massachusetts at New Market]
The 34th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry was organized at Camp John E. Wool, Worcester, on August 1, 1862, under the command of Colonel George D. Wells and Lieutenant Colonel William S. Lincoln. On Aug. 15 the regiment left Camp Wool for the seat of war, reaching Hunter’s Chapel near Arlington, Va. on the 18th. Aug. 22 it proceeded to Alexandria and thence to Cloud’s Mills. At Fort Ellsworth, Fort Lyon, and Upton’s Hill the fall and winter and spring following were spent, the regiment having been twice temporarily brigaded with other regiments. Not until July 9, 1863, was it ordered away from the defenses of Washington.
John wrote the letter to his friend, Charles Cooley (b. 1841), the son of Elicher [or Elihu?] Cooley (b. 1808) and Laura Cowles (b. 1812) of Westfield, Massachusetts.
My thanks to Abbey Weber Jones for providing a first draft of this transcription.
Header Image: The winter camp of the 34th Massachusetts near Alexandria, Virginia. The regiment camped here from September 15, 1862 to June 2, 1863. In the background is Ballenger’s Hill with Fort Lyon on the crest.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mr. Charles Cooley, Westfield, Massachusetts
Camp Wool, Aug 9th, [1862]
Friend Charley,
How do you do this morning? I [am] well and doing well and live well and have a good time and [am] glad that I am here in the United States service so that I shant be drafted. And I tell you as a friend, don’t be drafted. If you do, you will see hard times. We leave for the seat of war Tuesday, the 12th. I think we shall go to Washington. We have enough to eat and that good and better then we had to Mr. B. when we worked there. We drill 5 hours in a day. The rest of the time we have to ourself to do what we have a mind to do. I like it so well that I would not come back till I see the war closed. I like [it] much better than I expected to. You tell mother that I like [it] well and dandy and tell her not to worry for I should [have] been drafted if I hadn’t enlisted, and if had been drafted, they would [have] put me into the old ranks and gone far South. But now this regiment is to be kept back on reserve.
I wish you could see and hear our Battallion drill. You would want to go with us where there are a 1000 muskets and drums and fifes and their bands. The band is now mounting guard and it is a splendid sight to enjoy—one that we [ ]. I will write soon after I get South, so goodbye Charley. Give my best respects to all.
— John Avery, Camp Wool, Co. D, 34th Reg.
P. S. I was home to Holyoke, [Massachusetts] the 6th. I had a good time with the two sisters that I told you about, perhaps for the last time. But I hope not. I made them a present to remember me. The felt very bad to have me leave them. It took the tears from the to part. I bid them goodbye for the last time, for the present.
I could not find an image of John but here is a watercolor of Joseph K. Hayes of Co. K, 10th New Jersey Infantry (based on poor quality image in Civil War Photo Sleuth)
The following letters were written by John A. Laur while serving as a volunteer recruit in Co. H, 10th New Jersey Infantry. John’s family appears to have been inconsistent with the spelling of their surname, which was variously rendered as Laur, Loar, or Lore. On the family gravestones, including John’s, it is inscribed as Lore; however, military records list it as Laur. At the time he accepted a substantial bounty to enlist, John had only just turned 15 years old. It is likely that the recruiting officer was aware of John’s underage status, yet he proceeded to enlist him nonetheless. During this period of the war, acquiring recruits had become increasingly challenging. Nevertheless, census records provide consistent evidence confirming that John was born in August 1849. He officially entered the service in August 1864.
There is nothing in John’s 32 letters that suggests he was motivated by a spirit of patriotism to enlist. Rather, it appears that he enlisted for the adventure and for the money. We learn from one of his letters that John feared his 44 year-old father might be drafted and he encouraged his father to use the bounty he received for enlistment to pay for a substitute, if necessary.
John was the son of William Chard Lore (1820-1895) and Catharine Adams (1831-1898) of Warren county, New Jersey. John’s younger siblings, of whom he often mentions in his letters, were Emma J. (b. 1852), George (b. 1854), and Willie (b. 1863). After his time in the service, John seems to have taken employment as a laborer in the oil industry. He was enumerated in 1870 at Oilcreek, Venango county, Pennsylvania. He became an invalid before 1900 and died in 1923 at Alpha, New Jersey.
Letter 1
Camp Distribution, Virginia August 15, 1864
Dear father,
I am well and I hope these few lines may find you the same. We left Camp Perrine, Trenton, on Saturday night and rode in the cars all next day till night and then marched 7 miles till we got to camp. I like to be a soldier first rate. We have nice times here now. We marched through Washington and I saw the Capitol were Old Abe sits. Yesterday, on Sunday, when we was a marching through Washington, I got a hold of another man’s knapsack in mistake and didn’t know it till this morning and I lost my testament and needle case and some more things. But there was a pair of boots in the knapsack that I got worth 10 dollars, but I sold them for 4 and so I didn’t lose much after all.
I don’t know when we will go to our regiment but I guess it won’t be long. They say here that it lays in Maryland, at Harpers Ferry. If it does, we are all right for there won’t be much fighting a going on there. If you write to me, don’t write before the 25th for then we will be to our regiment I guess.
I guess I will have to close for I have to write on my plate and I am getting tired. [Jacob F.] Parker and [William S.] Mettler are well. Tell Isaac Yard that I won’t write to him till I get to the regiment. Goodbye. Your affectionate son, — John A. Laur
Directions: Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vols. Washington, D. C. Tell Willie that I seen some cocoa nuts down here. Don’t write before the 25th for we don’t know when we will have to move from here and then I wouldn’t get it.
Letter 2
Camp Distribution, Virginia August 15, 1864
Dear Father,
I sit down to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all the same. Me and Jacob F. Parker and William S. Mettler are going to send our overcoats home for it is too warm to carry them now and we have no use for them now till it gets colder. Then I can draw another one, and besides, it will make you a good overcoat this winter. We will put a receipt in this letter and you show that to Brice Pursel and you can draw the box. You take the box over home and tear it open and you will find the name on each of our coats. Send Jacob F. Parker’s up to Haldron and William S. Mettler’s over to his home. We will put 50 cents in this letter. If it ain’t anough, write to me and we will send you more. And if it is to much, give it to Skid Mettler.
No more at present. Your affectionate son, — John A. Laur
Don’t write till the 25th of this month and then I think we will be to our regiment. I will write again before that time. I like it first rate. Goodbye to you all.
Letter 3
Camp Distribution, Virginia August 16, 1864
My dear father,
I am well at present and hope these few lines may find you all the same. The letter that I wrote to you yesterday, I mentioned about sending home them overcoats. I told you that I would put in 50 cent to pay the freight on them and I forgot to put in the money so I thought I would write today and put it in. I will put in a dollar and if it is too much, keep the change, and if it ain’t enough, write to me and I will send you more.
When we marched from Washington to this camp we had to cross the Potomac and I got purty tired a walking across it. It is about a mile broad where we crossed. Tell Willie & George it would be a bully place to fish, I think. When we was a riding from Philadelphia to Baltimore, two men tried to desert. One jumped off the platform and broke his neck. The other jumped out of the window and the guards put two ball through him. One went through his right side and the other went through his heart and killed him on the spot. 1
I guess I will have to close for I am getting tired. Excuse poor writing for I have to write on a board. Write to me as soon as you get this letter for I guess I will be to my regiment when you get this. Tell me all that has happened since I left. Tell me how the boys are a getting along and whether Willie misses me or not. Goodbye to you all. Give my love to all.
Directions: John A. Laur, Washington D. C., Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vol.
1 By the time John enlisted in late 1864, many of the “recruits” and “draftees” were reluctant participants and officers escorting these men to the the Distribution Camp near Washington D. C. often kept them under guard. Some of the men who accepted large bounties to enlist or accepted money as substitutes for drafted men did so with every intention of deserting the first opportunity presented them. The men who tried to escape were probably “bounty jumpers.”
Letter 4
On Picket near Charlestown, Virginia August 30, 1864
My dear father,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to write to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you all the same. We left Bolivar Heights on Sunday morning and marched nearly all day and when night came, our regiment encamped near Charlestown when they sent our company out on picket and we have been out ever since. We live fine when we are out on picket. Yesterday we killed a pig and had some fresh pork.
I havent received but one letter letter from you and one from Aunt Mary Ann and so I thought I would write to you to let you know that I like it first rate. The Johnnys are laying about a mile off. Yesterday there was hard fighting in front we could hear their guns crack plain.
Write to me soon and tell me how you are a getting along. Tell me how Willie and George and Em is a getting along and tell me whether you have got my bounty or not. Dont show them songs to anybody for the writing is so poor. On the back I will send you some better ones. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A Laur
Write soon.
Letter 5
In Camp near Charlestown, Virginia September 1, 1864
My dear father,
I now take this pleasant opportunity by writing to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines may find you all the same. You say you want to know how I want my money—in bonds or not. You can take [them] any way you please, and if you get drafted, take the money and hire a substitute. You wanted to know whether I didn’t lose my shirt when I lost my knapsack. I got 3 shirts, 2 pair of drawers, and a blanket. I threw away one pair of drawers and a shirt and my blanket for they was too [much to] carry and it was so warm that I did not need them. I drawed one India rubber to keep me dry.
I forgot to tell you that I received two letters and some paper and was very glad to hear from you all. You wanted to know what was our captain’s name. We have no captain or lieutenants—only a sergeant. They was all killed or captured.
I will have to bring my letter to a close. Goodbye Willie and George and Emma and all. From your son, — John A. Laur
Write soon.
Letter 6
September 3, 1864
My Dear father,
You spoke about them two hundred dollars. The rest of the boys took theirs in bonds, but you can take mine any way you please. You spoke to me about a shirt. I have two shirts and a man gave me a testament in Washington. I like it first rate yet. You said you didn’t get a letter in over a week. I write a couple of times every week. I guess I will have to close by wishing you goodbye. From your son, — John A. Laur
Write soon. I received the papers and envelopes.
Letter 7
Camp near Berryville, Virginia September 7, 1864
My dear parents,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope you are all the same. I received a letter from Emma last night and was very glad to hear from her. It had a quarter of a dollar in it. I received the other two dollars when I received the papers but I forgot to mention it.
I have not been very well this while back but am all right now. When we left Charlestown, I did not feel able to march so I reported to the doctor and I was put in the ambulance and got to ride all the way where now I feel well now. I don’t know when we will have to move, but I think it will be before long. Don’t send me a box for we are a moving all the time and I would not get it. We will put up for winter quarters in a couple of months and then we will get them. Don’t worry about me for I am a getting along all right. Next Friday it will be one month since I voluntered.
I received a letter from Uncle George last night. It has been several days since I wrote to you but I was a little sick and didn’t feel much like writing. But write to me as soon as you get this. Goodbye all. From your son, John A. Laur
Letter 8
Camp near Berryville, Virginia September 11, 1864
My dear brother,
I guess I will have to write to you a little about the Johnnys. They aint very close now. We can hear a cannon crack once and a while, but I wish I had the old double barrel gun down here awhile. You ought to just see the pigeons. I see 3 or 4 flocks every morning and it is full of grey squirrels too. But we don’t shoot them with our guns. But we shoot a hog whenever we find one. We have purty plenty of pork down here.
I guess I will have to close by wishing you all goodbye. Tell mother to write soon. This here song that I send along is Willie’s.
I guess I will write a little more. When you write, tell me whether Pap was drafted or not and how he is a getting along with the work. I expect George has to work as hard as ever and Willie I suppose he is a working too. You say Julie is at our house. I would like to know whether she kissed George and Willie or not. Tell George that I was in a swimming in the Shenandooah River once. Tell Emma that I will answer her letter as soon as I get a little more time. And Willie wants me to come home and sing for him? Tell him I will come home after awhile and sing for him. I want to know whether he rides Old Jack as much as he used to but I don’t know whether I can fetch him a horse that can eat and drink or not.
I guess I will have to close. Write to me soon. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A. Laur
Goodbye Willie and George and Emma. Goodbye.
Letter 9
Camp near Berryville, Virginia September 17, 1864
My dear parents,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am well at at present and hope you are all the same. I received your letter on the 15th and was very glad to hear from home. I am doing well now. Tonight our company has to go out on picket and will be out 3 days.
The letter that you sent me had 50 cents in it and the next one you send me I would like you to send me a quarter’s worth of stamps for I am purty near out. You wanted to know whether I could not buy something good when I was sick. You can get plenty of good things of the sutler but he charges a purty good price. Uncle George thinks I done wrong by throwing away my blanket. I can stand it very well. Me and [William] Mettler and [Jacob] Parker each have a shelter tent and we put up together and each have a rubber blanket. We sleep very warm.
We have been in this place two weeks today and I think we will stay a while. The Johnnys have encamped on a mountain about 6 miles from us.
You wanted me to tell you whether it is any warmer out here than at home. It is purty warm in the day time but it is very cold nights. I come on guard about every 3 days. I don’t mind it mutch in the daytime but it is purty cold nights. I have seen plenty of rebel prisoners since I have been down here. I have been in the service one month and a week. Tell Willie not to ride old Jack too much. I guess I will have to close for this time. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A Laur
Goodbye Willie and George and Emma. I received a letter last night from little sissy Clark. William Mettler is well and in fine spirits.
Letter 10
Martinsburg Hospital [Sometime early October, 1864?]
My dear parents,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am in the Martinsburg Hospital and am doing well. I expect to be sent to Baltimore tonight or in the morning. It has been a long time since I wrote to you but we can’t send any letters out—only once a week. I received a letter from Mother and Emma last week and one from Aunt Mary Ann. Don’t worry about me for I have nothing but the diarrhea and I will soon get over that.
I would like to tell you about that Winchester battle but I hain’t got time. If I live to get home, I will tell you how I dodged the shells. I guess I will have to close for this time. Don’t write till you hear from me again for I don’t know where to tell you to direct it. No more at present. From your affectionate son, — John A Laur
Goodbye. Willie, I will write as soon as I can.
Letter 11
United States General Hospital Frederick, Maryland
My dear parents,
I now sit down to take this pleasant opportunity to write you to let you know that I am getting along fine. We went to Frederick City instead of Baltimore. It is a purty nice place and I want to stay here as long as I can. The reason I write home so soon after the other letter, I would like to have some money while we are here. I can get a pass from the doctor to go in the city and if I have a little money, I can get some butter or something that will taste good. You may send me 5 dollars if you can. Mind and send [only] government money for I can’t pass any other kind down here. Write just as soon as you get this for we may not stay here long. Don’t send any more letters to the regiment till I tell you to. There may be letters there now with money in them from home and I won’t get them till I get to my regiment again.
I guess I will have to close for this time. Tell Aunt Mary Ann and little Sissy Clark that I will answer their letters when I get to my regiment. Don’t forget to write as soon as you get this. Goodbye all. Directions: John A. Laur, United States General Hospital, Frederick Maryland. You had better get Robert Shimer to direct it. From your son, — John A Laur
Letter 12
U. S. A. General Hospital Frederick, Maryland October 21, 1864
My dear parents,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write to you to let you know that I am getting along fine and am purty near well. I feel a little weak yet but I will soon be as strong as ever. You spoke about my staying here all winter. I would like to if I could but as soon as the men get fit for duty, they are sent to their regiments.
Last night I received mother’s letter with the money in it and was very glad for it. I went out in the city and get me a pound of butter for 50 cents and now I can live first rate. We get fresh bread every meal and but 3 times a week Monday mornings we get boiled ham and now we get potatoes boiled with the skins on, and sometimes we get apple sauce and corn bread. We have good beds nights to sleep in.
Today I received a letter from Emma and was very glad for her photograph. It looks just like her. I showed it to the boys in the tent and they thought it was a good one.
I suppose would like to know how many men there is here. There is about 12 hundred men and about half of them is wounded. I wrote today to William Mettler to send me my letters today. As long as I [have] money I can buy paper and envelopes, so you needn’t send me any. Tell Willie I got his letter and was very glad to hear from him. Tell him I have no hard tack now but I will send him a piece when I get to the regiment. Tell George that I seen plenty of dead rebs but no watches. I guess I will have to close this time by wishing you all goodbye. Don’t send a box or any more money till I write for it. Goodbye from your son, — John A. Laur
Directions the same as before: U.S.A. General Hospital, Frederick, MD
Letter 13
U.S.A. General Hospital, Frederick, Maryland October 29, 1864
My dear parents,
I now take this pleasant opportunity to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well at present and hope this will find you all the same. I received a letter from you on the 27th and it had two dollars in it and I was very glad for it. It takes money purty fast if I get a pass and go out in the city [where] I see so many good things that I can’t help but buy some. We don’t live quite so good as we did.
I want to know whether it is very cold up home. It is very cold down here. We are in great big tents—big enough to hold 10 or 12 men—and there is no stoves in them and we have to keep in bed purty near all the time to keep warm. I think I will write to Henry Thomas tomorrow. I got the combs that you spoke about.
When you write again, tell who pap is going to vote for. The soldiers are all down on Old Abe. They all go in for Little Mac. The soldiers are all tired of the war and say if Old Abe is elected, that they won’t fight any more. There is a great many soldiers die here—two or three every day. There was one died last night in the next tent to mine.
I want you to tell Willie I dont want him to shoot all the rabbits for I want to shoot some myself when I come back. I am afraid that he works most too hard. That picture in the letter is his. When you write to me again, I want to know whether pap ever got my bounty or not. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. Tell the boys and girls I am well. Goodbye all. From your son, — John A. Laur Directions the same as before.
Letter 14
US General Hospital Frederick, Maryland November 19, 1864
My dear parents,
I arrived at Frederick yesterday at one o’clock and found everything as I had left it. I left Trenton for Philadelphia at one o’clock on the 17th and I left Philadelphia at 5 o’clock that night and got in Baltimore at 9 that night. And then I put up at the Union Relief and left the next morning at 9 o’clock for Frederick City. When I was in Trenton, I saw one of the old boys in my company. He had his discharge and was going home. I had a good long talk with him. He told me the name of the man who was killed in my company. His name was [Francis] Freeman—one of my best friends. A shell struck him and cut him nearly in two. 1
Tell the boys that Taylor is alright and promoted to 5th Sergeant. I guess I will have to close for this time for I don’t know what to write. Goodbye all and write soon. Your son, — John A. Laur
Directions the same as before.
1 Francis (“Frank”) H. Freeman was killed at the Battle of Cedar Creek on 19 October 1864. His illiterate wife, Hannah E. (Allen) Freeman, age 18, filed for a Widow’s Pension, claiming they were married on 14 January 1864 in Camden county, N. J. when she was 16 years old. The pension record states that Frank was “wounded in the bowels.” Curiously,Frank’s mother made an application for a “Dependent Mother Pension” claiming that Frank was never married even though Frank’s wife was living with her at the time of his death. An investigator from the Pension Office finally ruled in favor of the widow. Frank’s parent’s names were Charles Freeman and Mary B. Burt. Mary claimed that Frank’s father “ran away with another girl before Frank was four and never saw his father but once afterward.”
Letter 15
[Late November 1864]
My dear parents,
I now sit down to tell you that I arrived at the regiment this morning. I left Frederick City on Monday and I got so short notice that I hadn’t time to write. I had a purty hard march yesterday. I went out with the train from Martinsburg to Winchester. The distance is 22 miles. It was a purty hard day’s march. I wrote to you when I first come to the hospital and didn’t get no answer yet when I left and I wrote one to Aunt Mary Ann. I told the postmaster to send them to me when they come.
Last Thursday we had a bully Thanksgiving dinner at the hospital. We had 100 turkeys roasted and 21 geese and some ducks and chickens. The reason I left the hospital was because we didn’t get half anough to eat. The regiment is in winter quarters here but they think they will have to go to Winchester to guard the railroad so I won’t write for a box yet till I know we will lay still.
They say Jacob Parker is at Baltimore hospital. Tell Mrs. Mettler that William is well and that he received the shirt and gloves that she sent him. The boys are all looking fine. I guess I will have to close for this time. Goodbye all. When you write to me, tell me how Willie is a coming along. Write soon. Directions: Co. H. 10 New Jersey Vol., Washington DC
Letter 16
Camp near Petersburg December 7, 1864
My dear parents,
I now sit down to tell you that I arrived at this place last night. The 5th Corps had nice quarters built and our corps relieved them so we have nice log huts. I like it first rate. We are about 10 miles on the left of Petersburg. We can hear the cannon cracking all the time but there is no firing where we are so don’t worry about me for I am in a good place. I like it better than I did in the Valley. I tell you what, I have seen a good bit since I have been home.
So I guess I will tell you something about my journey. We left Gen. Sheridan’s army and the Shenandoah Valley on the 1st of December and took the train at Winchester and it took us a day and a night to get to Washington. We stayed there a while and then took a steamboat called the Monitor. We was on the water two days and then we came to City Point and from City Point we came here. I tell you what, we had a nice time on the Potomac and James river. When we was a going up the James river, I saw Fort Pohattan—the place where John Cyphers and the boys are. I tell you what geese and ducks I did see up the James river. The boys shot at them but couldn’t hit them.
I have not received any letters from you since I left home and I have wrote two. I wrote to Aunt Mary Ann and I dont know whether I put on the right directions or not. I will tell you the directions I put on and you can tell me whether I put them on right. Since we are in such good quarters, I guess you may send me a box. You may put in what you please. I guess I will have to close for this time by bidding you all goodbye. From your son, John A. Laur
We are now in Gen. Grant’s army. Tell the boys and girls that I am all right and tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well and in good spirits. Write soon.
Letter 17
Camp near Petersburg December 12, 1864
My dear parents,
I received you most welcome letter last night and was very glad to hear from home for it was the first letter I have had yet since I was home [on furlough]. The letter that I received last night was date the 9th. The two first letters you wrote to me, I never got and I didn’t get Aunt Mary Ann’s letter [either].
It is very cold here today. I was out on picket two days and it rained and snowed all the time. There is about 2 inches of snow on the ground now. We had no firing when I was on picket. I had a pleasant conversation with one of the Johnnys. They come over in our lines and the boys trade coffee and tobacco with them. One of them wanted to know when the big killing was a coming off. We told him that it was a coming off before long. They are a fighting all the time off on the left and right. We can hear their cannon and musketry all the time. They open the ball about sundown and keep it up all night and in the morning it slackens.
We have nothing to do here but go out on picket and guard the forts. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well. He is out on picket today. Tell Phip and Ike that I will write to them as quick as I get time. When you send the box, send me a letter the same day so I can draw it. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Directions: Co. H, 10 Regt. N. J. Vol., 1st Brig., 1st Div., 6th Army Corps, Washington DC. When you write to me, tell me how Willie and George and Em is a getting along. This is Willie’s hard tack.
Letter 18
Camp near Petersburg December 19, 1864
My dear parents,
I received your kind letter last night and was very glad to hear from you. I got the receipt in the letter but haven’t drawed the box yet. When I get it, I will write you. You said you heard that there was firing in our front and so there is. There was 3 or 4 brought in wounded in our brigade. The Johnnys tried to advance on the picket line but we repulsed them. The firing has nearly stopped now. I wish you was here to hear the firing at night. The cannon are a cracking all the time out at Petersburg. This morning they fired a salute of a hundred guns in honor of Gen. Thomas’s glorious achievement. I tell you what, it did roar.
I don’t know what is the reason that I did not get your two first letters and Aunt Mary Ann’s. It was raining here today and it is a great deal warmer than it was. I will have to close. This letter leaves me well and I hope it will find you all the same. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is well. Tell the boys that I am well. Goodbye all, from your son — John A. Laur
Tell Willie not to run too much in them new boots. John A. Laur
Letter 19
Camp near Petersburg December 22, 1864
Dear parents,
I now sit down to write a few lines to let you know that I am well at present and hope you are all the same. I haven’t received the box yet. They hadn’t been ordered up from Washington yet when you wrote but they have been now and I suppose I will get it about Christmas time. I like it first rate down here. I was never so hearty in my life as I am now. I tell you what, I stand it bully since I have come back to the regiment.
William S. Mettler is on picket today. There is a photograph gallery here and if you will send me a couple of dollars, I will get some taken with my gun and equipments on. The rebs are very quiet here now. There is scarcely any firing here at all now. You ought to see what queer railroads they have here. They hain’t like our roads but they just run with the ground, up hills and down. When we do down hill, we go like a streak. But when we go up hill, they go very slow. I wish you would send Emma’s photograph to me. There is somebody that wants it down here. Tell Willie not to eat too many Christmas candies or he will get sick. When you write to me again, tell me how him and George is a making out. Tell Mrs. Mettler that Will is a doing well. I dont want you all to eat too much turkey a Christmas. I guess I will have to close for this time by wishing you all a Merry Christmas. Goodbye all. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Letter 20
Camp near Petersburg December 25, 1864
My dear parents,
I received your kind letter to day and was very glad to hear from you. Today is Christmas and it is a very fine day. I have my shirts yet and I can stand the cold very well but it ain’t as cold down here as it is up there. We have good fires in our tents and we can keep good and warm. It is Christmas today and I haven’t got my box yet but I expect it tomorrow. Our chaplain is a going to City Point and I am a going to give him my receipt and if it is there, he will draw it. I am not out of envelopes and paper yet but you might send me two or three stamps if you will. I received the dollar that pap sent me and it come very good for i was out of money.
Today I received the last letter that Aunt Mary Ann sent me. It had been on the road about 20 days and it was very near worn out. I received Willie’s letter and I think he is improving some. I guess I will have to send him another piece of a hard tack. I would send him a whole one, but I cannot get it in a letter. I don’t want you to worry about me for I am in the best of health. I tell you what, I can eat pork. We get a great deal better rations than we did in the Valley. We draw two days rations of bread every week and we get beans and rice and fresh meat three times a week, plenty of sugar and coffee, and onions and potatoes and molasses and vinegar and whiskey once a week. So we live purty well.
I guess I will have to close for this time. This letter leaves me well and I hope this may find you the same. I close by wishing you all a Merry Christmas. From your son, — John A. Laur
Write soon.
To my brother George. Well George, I thought I would write a few lines to tell you not to catch all the muskrat for I want some of them myself when I come home. And George, I heard that you kissed the girls on the other day. I tell you what, it won’t do to kiss them anymore, for if you do, I will hear tell of it. George, today is Christmas and I suppose you are a eating turkey and Crristmas candies, but I have pork and hard tack. It goes nice, I tell you. Well, George, I will close by wishing you a Merry Christmas and also Emma and Willie. Give my best respects to all. Write soon.
Letter 21
Camp near Petersburg December 27, 1864
Dear Parents,
I received your kind and welcome letter on the 26th and was very glad to hear from home. I am doing very well now. I am getting fat, I tell you. I havent’ received my box yet but expect it everyday. I am afraid some of the things will be spoilt, it has been on the road so long. It is not near as cold down here as it is up there. It is raining today.
I tell you what, I had a bully old Christmas dinner. We had pork and tack. I tell you what, it went gay.
One out of our company died on the 19th. He was an old man named David Russell. Our company is very small now. There is only twelve men fit for duty now. Yesterday we drawed 2 mackerel apiece and they went purty good, I tell you.
When you write to me again, tell me now the boys are a getting along. I guess I will have to close for this time. Give my best respects to all. Write soon. From your son, John A. Laur
Directions: Co. H, 10th Regt. N. Jersey Vol., 1st Brig., 1st Div., 6th Corps, Washington DC
Letter 22
Camp near Petersburg January 5, 1865
My dear parents,
I received your kind and welcome letter today and was very glad to hear from you. I just come in off of picket this morning. I have been out two days and the first day we had a purty hard time of it for it snowed all night. But it is getting nice and warm again. The Johnnys didn’t disturb us any this time for I guess they knowed better.
Tomorrow our regiment is ordered to Gen. Meade’s Headquarters to see a man [Peter Cox] shot for desertion. He belongs to the 4th New Jersey Vols. I tell you what, I dont like to see it, but I suppose I must.
My box hasn’t come yet and I am afraid some of the things will be spoilt but we heard that the boxes was delayed at Washington and I think they will be along yet. I received the two dollars that you sent me and I was very glad too for it. I went and bought some flour and me and old Mettler had a gay old dinner of slapjacks. I think we will be paid off about the 15th of the month and I will get four months pay which will be 64 dollars, and I will send the biggest part of it home to you. I want you to see Phip Fine and Isaac Yard and I want you to see why they don’t write to me. I wrote to them when I first came down here and never received any answer. I guess they have forgot it.
Yesterday we drawed sour krout for the first time and it went purty nice, I tell you. There is a rumor now that we are to be sent back to the Valley again but I hope it ain’t so for we don’t have to march any here like we did in the Valley. Tell Willie not to cut too mutch with that knife of his. Tell George that I think I shall go to snaring rabbits down here for when I was out on picket, I saw plenty of tracks. I guess I will have to close for this time. Give my respects to all my friends. From your son, —John A. Laur
Write soon
Letter 23
Camp near Petersburg January 12, 1865
My dear parents,
I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you to hear you was all well. I have good news to tell you. Me and Mettler received our box on the 6th of the month and it is purty near all gone too. Everything was good except the chickens. They was a little moldy on the out side, and that can of peaches Mrs. Lerch sent me was spoilt so that we had to throw them away.
Yesterday the Johnnys like to fetched me and Mettler. We was a working out on the picket line on fatigue duty and we was only a little ways off from the Johnny’s picket line. [While] we was a working away, a party of us was a standing together when all of a sudden the Johnnys poured a volley of musketry into us and wounded six of our boys. I tell you what, the bullets flew thick for a little while. We hadn’t our guns along so we had to run and I tell you what, we did run too. I had to help two of the wounded men in and I tell you, it was a purty hard job.
It is a nice warm day here today and it don’t get very cold here. I don’t think it is any colder here now than it was when I was home on furlough. I got a letter from Uncle George last night and one from John S. Hunt and one from you makes three. You wanted to know how Jacob Parker was a getting a long. He has not lost his leg. He is a doing well.
Tell Willie not to ride too much on his sled or else he will freeze his feet again. I guess I will have to close for this time. When you write to me, I wish you would send me some stamps for I am out. So goodbye all. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Directions the same as before.
Letter 24
Camp near Petersburg January 30, 1865
My dear parents,
I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you and I also received one from Phip Fine. Tell him I will write to him as quick as I get some paper. If it ain’t too mutch trouble to you, I wish you would send me some paper and envelopes for these down here are so poor as I don’t know when we will get paid off. I wish you would try and get as good paper as you can and if Robert Shimer has any pocket diaries, I wish you would send me one so I could put down all that transpires.
Saturday I was on picket and two rebel deserters came over on the post I was on. I tell you what, the poor fellows looked hard. We cooked them a good supper of pork. I tell you what, how they did go into it. They belonged to a South Carolina regiment.
I expect my box will soon be on hand and I tell you what, it will go purty good. Tell Willie that I said you musn’t scold him so much and I want to know whether his boots are wore out yet or not. I expect he gets a good many sleigh rides this winter. And tell George that I am afraid he will beat me if he learns so fast before I get home. I guess I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it will find you all the same. From your son, —John A. Laur
If you can’t get that diary at Robert’s, you needn’t trouble yourself about it. Give my respects to all. — John A. Laur
Letter 25
Camp near Petersburg Virginia February 25, 1865
My dear Parents,
I received your most welcome letter today and was very glad to hear from home. Today our regiment was paid off. I got 6 months pay. I will send home 46 dollars of it. I would send home more but I owe the sutler some and some of the boys and so when I pay off my debts, I won’t have a great [amount left]. Write to me as soon as you get this letter so I will know whether you got it or not.
We have nice times here. The weather is nice and warm. I am on guard today and it is raining like forty. Just as quick as I get a pair of pants, I will have my photograph taken. I look most too greasy now. If you get the money that is in this letter, spend it, for it is yours.
You wanted to know whether we have any officers in our company. We have none yet. Our Orderly Sergeant commands the company.
I am sorry to hear that Johnny [ ] has enlisted for I think he will have a hard time of it. I received the money you sent me. I received the ring Willie sent me. You must buy him something and tell him I bought it for him. I guess I will have to close for this time. Excuse poor writing and write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
You won’t find any money in this letter. I thought I would send it by the state agent as it would be safer. You will get a check about the time you get this and it will show you what bank to go and draw it.
Letter 26
Camp Near Petersburg, Virginia March 2, 1865
My dear parents,
I now sit down with pleasure to write a few lines to you. I suppose you have received them photographs I sent you. The one with the sergeant stripes on is Jack Taylor and the other one is named Ward. We call him goat for a nickname and I will send you one in this letter. Tell Willie that it is his’n. I am a going to send Aunt Mary Ann one with me and Mettler both in one picture. I tell you what, it is a good one.
You must tell grandmother that her peaches went bully. I would write to them all but I am on duty purty near every day and I can’t hardly get time to write home. These pictures are dear down here. I paid a $1.50 for the one that is in this letter. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Letter 27
Camp Near Petersburg Virginia March 8, 1865
Dear Parents,
I received your most welcome letter yesterday and was glad to hear from home. We have fine weather here now. It is almost as warm here now as it is up there in the summer time.
There is some talk of our leaving here soon and going to the Valley again but I hope it ain’t so for I would sooner be here than in the Valley. When you write to me again, tell me how Willie liked his picture. You must get his taken and send me one. I would like to see how he looks. Tell em that she can have enough of that money to buy an album if you are a mind to give it to her. It is yours—you can do as you please. You must buy Willie an orange of that money I sent him.
I think the war will soon be over myself. The rebs are deserting over to us every night. Six or seven come in were we picket every night. Six came in last night and if they come in that way all a long the line, their army must be getting weak.
I guess I will have to close for news is scarse. I hain’t had the earache once this winter or any bad colds. I am as hearty as a buck. I tell you what, the old box is a disappearing rapidly. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Write soon
Letter 28
Camp near Petersburg, Virginia March 19, 1865
My dear Parents,
I received your kind letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you. You say that you received them pictures I sent you. I want to know whether you received the one that I have my gun. I don’t know whether you got it or not. But about that photograph Mettler sent, he sent it to you but you needn’t let on to Em about it. When I wrote to you, I made a mistake about my pay. I only got four month’s pay. You said that I did not keep any money. I kept as much as I wanted for the sutler sells everything so high that it all goes anyhow. The next time you write to me, I would like you to send me a pair of suspenders if it ain’t to mutch trouble to you. The sutlers here ask 5 dollar a pair for them and I hate to pay that for them and my old ones are purty near played out.
I got Willie’s candy that he sent me and it went good. Tell him that I said he shouldn’t work so hard. Today we had a purty hard days work. We have been on review. We went about four miles and it was so hot that we come purty near roasting. I tell you what, I wish you could have seen us today. Our whole Division was out together and I tell you what, we made a show. And we are coming out gay. We have white gloves and I tell you, they look nice.
Last week we had marching orders but we didn’t have to go. When you write to me I would like to know on what bank that check is on. I guess I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. From your son, — John A. Laur
Write Soon. Co. H, 10 N. J. Vols., 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 6th Army Corps, Washington.
Letter 29
Camp Near Burksville Station, Virginia April 16, 1865
My dear Parents,
I received your welcome letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you for it was the first time that I heard from home in purty near three weeks. Today is Easter and I suppose you are a eating eggs. I received George and Willie’s photograph and I tell you, it looks bully.
We are now encamped at Burke’s Station. I don’t know how long we will stay here. You said you suppose I would see Petersburg and Richmond. I have been in Petersburg. We was out on the morning it was surrendered to our Brigade and we went into the town that morning. It is a purty nice place. I tell you what, the boys got lots of tobacco. I never saw so much tobacco in my life and we got plenty of Confederate money [too]. I will send a couple of Bills home for I guess you have not seen any yet.
I dont know what they are a going to do with us now for there is no more fighting to do here unless they send us to North Carolina but I don’t think they will. If you have any money about when you get this letter, you can send me a couple of dollars and I will buy a ham of the commissary. I guess I will have to close for this time. When you direct your letters to me, direct them the same as before. Write soon. From your son, John A. Laur
Letter 30
Camp Near Danville, Virginia May 3, 1865
My Dear Parents,
I received your kind letters to day for it has been a good while since I heard from home. I received two from you this morning.
We are now laying at Danville, Va. We have been on a purty hard march. We marched from Burksville Junction to Danville in four days and four hours. The distance was a hundred miles. And when we got to this place, we heard that Johnston had surrendered and now they talk of sending us back to Petersburg to guard the railroad. I suppose when we go, we will go on the cars.
I received the photograph that you sent me and I tell you, it was a good one. I also received the 2 dollars that you sent me and the dollar that George sent and it comes very good.
You said that the Sixth Corps lost heavy while we was after old Lee. The Corps did lose very heavy but we did not lose a great many in our Brigade. We got out of the hardest battle that was fought for we was wagon guard. I think the war is almost over. All the armies have surrendered except Kirby Smith and he will surrender too when he hears that the rest have surrendered. I will have to close for this time. This leaves me well and I hope it may find you all the same. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Letter 31
Camp near Petersburg May 11, 1865
My Dear Parents,
Having nothing to do at present, I thought I would write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope this may find you all the same. We left Danville last Friday and we rode about a hundred mile on the car and walked the rest of the way and now we are a laying 10 miles from Petersbug a guarding the railroad. But we won’t stay here long. We expect to move every day and when we do go, they say that we are going to Washington. They say that the 2nd and 5th Corps are there now and that Sherman’s army is a going there too.
There is to be a review there and when that is over, they say they are going to send them home. They say when we go, we will have to march all the way there. If we do, it will be a long march. It is about a hundred and 72 miles.
Yesterday I was sent on safe guard over an old farmer’s plantation and I live fine. I don’t know how long I will be kept here but I suppose till they get ready to move. I will send George a ten dollar Confed[erate] note. I guess I will have to close for I am out of news.
Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
Letter 32
Camp at Richmond, Virginia May 20, 1865
My Dear Parents,
I received your kind letter last night and I was very glad to hear from you. We are now laying about a mile from Richmond. We can see the city plain. We can see Libby Prison plain and I tell you, it is a nice city by the looks of it. And we marched through Petersburg the other day and that is a purty nice place [too].
We stopped here to draw rations and then they say we are to start on to Washington. I tell you, it will be a purty hard march—about a hundred and 32 miles. The news is down here that they are discharging the troops fast. I don’t know when we will be discharged. I don’t think we will be before our time is out. You wanted to know whether I got enough clothes. I have got as many as I can carry. We can draw all we want from the goverment. I guess Mr. Mettler’s company hain’t to Trenton for the last time Will heard from him, he was at the fort yet. I guess I will have to close for this time. Write soon. From your son, — John A. Laur
This letter was written by Manning Austin (1843-1921) who enlisted at North Landing, Tompkins county, New York, as a private in Co. G, 10th New York Cavalry on 6 October 1861. He reenlisted as a veteran corporal in December 1863 and was later transfered to Co. I, 2nd Regiment, V. R. C. Interesting quotations from several of Manning Austin’s letters appear on a webpage of the 10th New York Cavalry published by Ken Morris. He cites the source of these letters as having been posted on-line on January 2001 by David G. Phillips Co., Inc. Sale #106 but that link is no longer active.
Manning was the son of Wisner D. Austin (1811-1879) and Eliza Giltner (1806-1894) of Lansing, Tompkins county, New York.
Manning Austin’s letter gives us a riveting account of the Battle of Middleburg, Virginia, on 19 June 1863, in which three squadrons (including his own) spearheaded a daring mounted charge that broke Confederate lines, successfully pushing JEB Stuart’s dismounted cavalry out of the woods and taking the town. The cavalry engagements in Loudon county successfully delayed Stuart’s cavalry from being of greater assistance to Lee in his invasion of Pennsylvania in 1863.
“First Maine Cavalry Skirmishing”
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Miss Julia Etta Austin, North Landing, Tompkins county, New York
Headquarters 10th N. Y. Vol. Cavalry Camp at Leesburg, Virginia June 25, 1863
Dear Sister,
As I have not written home in quite a longtime, I thought I would try and write a little this morning. I am well and hope that these few lines will find you the same. You may be surprised when you get htis to find that I am now at Leesburg, Va. When we left Warrenton Junction, we moved back to Manassas Junction, stayed there over night, then went to Aldie, Va. where we met Old Stewart [J. E. B. Stuart], (the Rebel Cavalry Chief) & drove him back through Ashby Gap—a place in the Blue Ridge. We reached Aldie on the 17th last and commenced fighting the next morning. Our regiment was in front, drove the enemy as far as Middleburg, a distance of three miles. We slept upon the battlefield that night & early the next morning the fight commencedby skirmishers. Companies A and M dismounted as Carbineers and went to the front as skirmishers where they remained until about 9 a.m. they had drove the enemy about a mile west of Middleburg into a piece of wood where they made a desperate stand.
Our cannon opened upon them but could not dislodge them. Gen. Gregg then sent one squadron of the 1st Maine & three out of our regiment, 2st, 2nd, and 3rd, to charge the woods which we did to good effect. The Maine boys charged first and was repulsed with some loss. Then our 3rd and 2nd squadron charged & was driven back but they soon rallied and with the 1st [squadron] charged to woods again in the face of a galling fire from the enemy sharpshooters but we fought desperately, charging & rallying until we drove them beyond the woods. It tell you, it was a hard fight.
Mr. Maine had his horse shot from under him but he paid that [back] in their own coin. He shot a reb dead. In the last charge, I got separated from the rest of the boys. I saw some of the Rebels coming down through the woods to the right. I stopped my horse and took deliberate aim with my carbine at a rebel & fired. He fell from his horse. I marked the spot where he fell & after the battle was over I went to the spot and found him where he fell. He was shot through the heart.
I have no more time so I will bid you goodbye for this time. — M Austin
Isaac Marshall Christy, Co. I, 15th Iowa Veteran Volunteers (Iowa Civil War Images)
The following letter was written by Isaac “Marshall” Christy (1844-1905), a native of Trumbull county, Ohio, who came to Iowa with his parents in 1854. On 23 November 1861, he enlisted at Oceola, Iowa, as a private in Co. I, 15th Iowa Infantry with his older brother William Christy. Marshall survived the battle of Shiloh unscathed in April 1862 but was wounded slightly in both legs near Corinth, Mississippi, on 3 October 1862. He was promoted to corporal on 24 February 1863 and reenlisted as a Veteran in December 1863 while at Vicksburg, Mississippi. On 20 July 1864 before Atlanta, he received a slight wound to the head from a Minié ball. He became a sergeant on 25 August 1864 and served until his discharge on 24 July 1865.
After the war, Marshall attended Wesleyan University at Indianola and afterwards graduated from Bryant & Stratton’s business college at Burlington. He married Louise Almyra Bennett on 23 February 1871 and raised a family. The Christys moved from Osceola, Iowa, to Phoenix, Arizona, in 1891 where Isaac hoped that the climate would improve his health. He joined the GAR and applied for an invalid pension. He died 31 March 1905 and was buried in the Masons Cemetery, Block 17, Lot 1. His remains were moved to Greenwood Cemetery in 1907 by the Masons.
This letter was shared by Marcus Crane on his Facebook site. He is a descendant of Achsah Marshall, the recipient of this letter, who was a first cousin of Marshall Christy. Achsah married Charles A. Crane (1834-1928) in 1876.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Goldsboro, North Carolina April 1, 1865
Cousin Achsah,
Your welcome letter of March 15 came to hand yesterday and contents read with pleasure. Was glad to hear of your good health and that all the friends were enjoying themselves so well. You are a number one guesser as you guessed the reason why the first time. I had written you two letters since receiving any and had come to the conclusion that you had forgotten me entirely, but this letter has happily dispelled that illusion. I pity Cousin Louis that she has such an awful time writing her letter to Will but I can’t help her any unless it be to not be so particular in writing her letters to soldiers as it is the news they are after and do not care so much as to the penmanship. If she does not wish to profit by my advice—all well and good. There is no affront intended and I hope there will be none taken. As the boys tell, I am not accountable for what I say.
I expect you will think it would have been better for me to have taken more pains with this, but I have to write in a hurry and have no time to spend in putting on style and hate stylish things anyway. Coz, I congratulate you on your letter writing as your letters pleased me more than any I have read for a long time. There was some life and vivacity about it—not as if you were copying it off of some book as the most of the Ladies of the latter day write. You need not think I am trying to flatter you as that is not my intention.
I expect you will have heard ere this all the details of our raid through the Carolina’s so that it would only be retelling stale news to you to tell you about it. The citizens in the country we have been traveling through are the most ignorant race of people God ever let the sun shine upon. I do not blame the poor people of this country for what they have done for they are not accountable for what they do, not knowing any better. I talked with one woman about 35 years of age who lived 9 miles from Columbia S. C. I asked her how far it was to town and she said he did not know as she had never been there. I asked her how long she has lived there. She said she was born there & had lived there ever since but had never been to town. I seen hundreds of such crimes of ignorance in my travels.
This war will be the cause of one God’s blessing at least. That is that it will put the Aristocracy and poor class of the South on a more equal level, thus giving all a chance to get a limited education and know what is going on in the world & cannot be led into war and ruin so easily again. The poor people of the South do not care half as much about the destruction of their property as the rich does. I seen many a woman in the streets of Columbia with her children gathered around her while the fire was burning everything she possessed in this world say they were glad of it—that it would learn some of the Aristocracy of what it was [to] want. That it was what they had anxiously been watching & praying for—for the coming of Sherman & his army. As for themselves, they could commence anew again and with the help of God make out some way. Women that talk that way is the ones I call the true “[ ]” of the South.
We destroyed everything of a combustible nature in S.C. The burning was done by those who had been prisoners & had received such hard treatment from the rebel authorities. They all swore vengence on S. C. if they ever got inside of her “borders” and they have forcefully kept their oath as the track they left behind them will readily show. They could not have sent a better army to destroy the county than Sherman’s, as no other army has had half the experience it has. You could notice the difference in feeling as soon as we crossed the line dividing North and South Carolina. All their thirst for burning & pillaging was gone as they had become perfectly satisfied with what they had done in South Carolina.
I passed through the cities of Orangeburg, Columbia, Waynesboro [?], Fayetteville, Goldsborough, &c. Taking out Columbia, they are all small towns irregularly laid out and in mose cases, awful dirty. They are what would be called small potatoes and few in a hill by the side of most any of our county towns up North. Columbia, before it was burned, was a very neat and pretty place, but it was entirely destroyed.
I have, if anything, a great deal worse time in writing this letter than Louis had with his for there has been so many in here talking to me that I did not know half of the time what I was writing about. I never could write with a whole pack around me talking and cutting up. If you can’t read this, send it back and I will try [again]. You need not be afraid of tiring me out reading your letters. The only fault I find is that they are not long enough. You must look over bad writing and all mistakes of all kinds for I wrote under very trying circumstances but tried to be as neat as possible.
Give my best wishes to all inquiring friends. Direct the same as before. Write soon to your cousin, I. M. Christy, Co. I, 15th Iowa Vet. Vols.. 3rd Brigade, 4th Division, 17th Army Corps
Oh yes, I want you to remember that photo. I want to see it very bad. Please sent it, won’t you?
I could not find an image of William (a.k.a. James Maynard) but here is one of Lorenzo Thurman Hale who also served in the 18th New Hampshire and was approximately the same age as William. (Dave Morin Collection)
The following letter was written by William Bruno Brimblcom (1832-1900) but if you look for his service record, you won’t find it under that name. For reasons that can only be conjectured, William enlisted in Co. D, 18th New Hampshire Infantry under the name “James Maynard” on 21 September 1864, giving Dover as his place of residence. He was transferred to Co. G in June 1865 and musterd out on 29 July 1865.
William was one of several children born to Rev. Samuel Brimblecom, Jr. (1799-1879) and Harriette Buttrick (1798-1878) who by the time this letter was written, had relocated from New England to Santa Clara, California. William was married to Emily Cordelia Gragg (1833-1912) but family history suggests that William’s addiction to alcohol caused a separation between the couple resulting, perhaps, in William’s enlistment and a hope that life in the service might dry him out. Perhaps he changed his name to avoid further shame to his family. A family letter posted on Ancestry.com states, “Aunt Lucy corresponded with him as James Maynard but I have never heard why he changed his name but image that it may have been on account of his weakness for alcohol. He possibly did not wish to risk disgracing the family name.”
William’s letter speaks of the final days battles around Petersburg in late March, early April 1865.
[This letter is from the collection of Greg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mrs. Harriette Brimblecom, Santa Clara, Santa Clara county, California
Field Hospital 9th Army Corps City Point, Virginia 12th April 1865
My dear mother,
I am once more on the list of killed and wounded and will take the occasion to commence a letter to you and will finish it as the condition of my injuries will permit. The smoke of the battles has cleared away and coming out into the light we find ourselves in possession of Petersburg and Richmond, forty-five miles of the strongest fortifications in the world, prisoners by tens of thousands, Lee’s army captured or knocked to pieces, the Great Rebellion collapsed, and the War over. If Albert is all right, then you have lost none of your sons for I am all right except a bad wrench of the left thigh which happened in one of the final charges on the enemy works before Petersburg. This did not prevent me from hobbling into Petersburg the next morning with my regiment which was one of the first to enter the city. I could not have missed that on any account.
For a fortnight before the last battle, we had been in the front line of the army so near the enemy that a stone could easily be tossed from our picket line into their. I frequently shouted to the Johnnies what I would do in Petersburg in a week or two, their reply to which bravado would be a bullet answered by one from me.
Truth, I have been in some places that I wished myself well out of. For instance, on the morning of Sunday, April 2nd, when we formed a line in Fort Stedman to storm the Reb fort opposite, Minié balls buzzed like mad hornets, round shot screamed like angry hawks, and shells burst so that one could almost read by the light of them while the noise surpassed anything else of which I have any conception. Do you want to know how I felt? Well, with a perfectly clear conscience of the tremendous peril, I was cool as a cucumber and had as perfect possession of my powers and faculties as ever in my life. Had plenty of time to laugh at the cowardice of some of my officers. My 2nd Lieutenant [John Underhill of Chester, N. H.] was so scared that he could scarce stand and could not speak while Capt. [Alvah K.] Potter of Co. A ran away to a safe ravine half a mile from the battle. Had I their reputations, I would never go home.
Lt. Colonel Joseph Messer Clough was wounded in defending the Union line in and around Fort Stedman on 29 March 1865. (Watercolor from CdV in Dave Morin’s Collection)
On the 29th of March the enemy made a desperate assault in the night on the part of the line held by my regiment [in and around Fort Stedman]. The 18th [New Hampshire] won much applause by the gallant manner in which it fought and repulsed the attack. The fire we delivered is said to have supassed any ever seen in the Army of the Potomac. We fired nearly 70,000 bullets. What the enemy’s loss was never can be known as they removed most of the dead & wounded before morning. I know we changed the character of the battle yell in a very short time. In this action we lost our Major [William I. Brown] killed & [Lt-] Colonel [Joseph M. Clough] wounded. I have found out whether I have any courage.
Henry made me a call two months or so since. Stopped only three hours. Was well and doing well. I suppose you hear from [my wife] Emily occasionally. I correspond with her regularly—write often. What we shall finally do even if I live remains for time to decide. I am still young but after all have had a good deal of experience—sad enough too. Perhaps those who have separated once had better stay so. What is your advice? The Rum is pretty well out of me now. I meant it should be if I lived. Now I hope it will stay out but can’t tell.
I will close and mail this and write again sometime. Love to sis and all the boys. Affectionately your son, — William
Capt. William Christy when he was in the 8th Iowa Cavalry (courtesy of Michael Huston)
The following letter was written by William Christy while serving as a sergeant in Co. I, 15th Iowa Infantry. He was born at Warren, Trumbull county, Ohio, February 14, 1841, the oldest son of George L. Christy (1815-1869) and Jane Marshall (1819-1901). In 1854 his father relinquished mercantile pursuits and moving westward, established himself as a farmer in Clarke county, Iowa, where William received a good education.
During the Civil War, William Christy enlisted as a private in Co. I, 15th Iowa Infantry, serving in that regiment one year. William enlisted with his younger brother, Isaac “Marshall” Christy (1844-1905). William was quickly promoted to sergeant; Marshall remained a private. After a year in the infantry, William was transferred to the Eighth Iowa Cavalry, rising to the rank of captain. He was attached to Sherman’s army until Atlanta was reached, when his regiment turned back with Thomas to hold Tennessee. During a skirmish in the rear of Atlanta, Captain Christy was wounded severely and fell into the hands of the enemy. He spent a whole year in Confederate prisions and hospitals, being for a short time successively in Millen and Andersonville. Exchanged in February, 1865, he rejoined his troop a poor advertisement for the fare in southern prisons, weighing less than 100 pounds. Captain Christy was afterward brevetted lieutenant-colonel of his regiment and remained with it till its disbandment in August, 1865, participating in the capture of Macon, Selma and Montgomery. Four wounds, two of them through the body, were retained as mementos of the days of raid and combat.
“Upon his return to Iowa, Colonel Christy attended college for a year and then entered a banking house at Osceola, Iowa. He was elected State Treasurer in 1872, by the modest majority of 62,000, and was reelected two years later. In 1876 he went back to the banking business in Des Moines. Colonel Christy came to Arizona in 1882, for the benefit of an oppressing asthma. He was one of the founders of the Valley Bank of this city, and has added materially to his worldly possessions in lands of the valley and by his interest in a number of profitable enterprises. Five children have been the fruit of a union contracted in 1866, with Miss Carrie E. Bennett, at Aurora, Ill. The family residence is located upon the outskirts of Phoenix and in the development of his fertile acres the financier finds his chief enjoyment.”
William’s letter describes the Battle of Shiloh in which the 15th Iowa Infantry suffered considerable losses in their first engagement. For another great account of the Battle of Shiloh from the perspective of the 15th Iowa Infantry, readers are referred to: The Civil War Diary of Cyrus F. Boyd, published in 1953, which is availsable on-line.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
[Editor’s Note: This transcript was shared by Marcus Crane on his Facebook site along with images of the original letter itself but they were so badly out of focus that I could not verify the accuracy of the transcription. That being said, I feel that this transcription must be pretty accurate as the statements made seem to be corroborated by other accounts]
I don’t know if this letter goes with this envelope but its from the same collection and my hunch is that the “Cousin” William wrote to was Miss Achsah Ann Marshall (1840-1930) of Bluffton, Allen County, Ohio.Achsah married Charles A. Crane (1834-1928) in 1876. It was Achsah who undoubtedly passed the letters to her descendants.
Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee April 17, 1862
Esteemed cousin,
I received your welcome comliment a few days since. Was glad to [hear] from you and yours. We are well as could be expected for soldiers in Tennessee. The diahhrea has had its effect on most of us. Only a few has escaped its fury. Marshall has had it very bad but is better. The regiment is not half fit for duty. We are encamped on a beautiful knoll in the timber about three miles from the river towards the enemy. Trees are covered with their green robes of summer. Peaches are the size of a cherry. Other fruit in proportion. Grass has just started. It is backward for the climate. The weather is quite warm and wet mud very deep, but drying up rapidly.
I do not like htis country. There is too much timber and clay. The soil is not more than 4 inches deep. I prefer the praities. We left our cheerful quarters in Benton Barracks [on] April 1 and arrived here the morning of the 6th just as the roar of the enemy’s guns were giving their salutations to the morn. We ate a hard cracker for breakfast, shouldered our muskets, and started for the scene of action—a distance of three miles.
Isaac “Marshall” Christy served in the same company with his brother (Iowa Civil War Images)
We were marched to within range of the enemy’s guns and then formed in line, thye firing voley after voley into our ranks which began to thin them by this time. We then fired and layed down. We soon scattered and bushwacked for two hours when we were outflanked and had to retreat. I waited til they got close enough to be sure and then fired and had the pleasure of seeing one of the graybacks fall, you bet. The bullets whistled around me thick. Then I ran my best. I was afraid of being shot in the back but as luck would have it, I came out all right. Our forces were driven back slowly till 4 p.m. Our artillery was put in position and supported the infantry. We opened on them and such anotherroar was never heard on this continent. I was behind a 64-pounder siege gun. When they fired, it kicked back 20 feet. It was deserted when the enemy made a charge but the infantry kept it from being taken with the aid of two gunboats. They were repulsed with great slaughter. Their firing nearly ceased—ours [was] more constant and destructive. Our loss in killed and wounded is from ten to fifteen thousand. Theirs from fifteen to twenty. Our loss on Sunday was as great as theirs, but on Monday their was five to one.
We were reinforced by a regiment of artillery which did fearful work on the enemy. They fought like men but they could not stand against the unerring aim of our guns. They were on the wrong side. We lost out of our regiment 25 killed and 175 wounded, 25 missing. We lost out of our company 3 killed, 15 wounded. Our 2nd Lt. [Robert W. Hamilton was]killed, Captain [James G. Day] and 1st Lieutenant [James M. Reid] wounded.
We are now encamped nearest the enemy. We are the advance of the Army of Tennessee. As soon as the roads get better, we will advance on tyhe enemy now at Corinth. They are strongly fortified. We have artillery enough to shell them out. We have six or eight hundred guns of heavy caliber.
I have been over the battlefield and such a sight I never expect to see. It far surpassed my expectations. I could stand in one place and count 300 dead. One cannon ball went through a tree and killed secesh. They all lay in a heap in one place. The wounded caught on fire and burned to death. Many wounded. It was a fearful sight to behold. I shall have to quit for want of space. Write as often as convenient. Direct to St. Louis. They will follow.
I would give 4 cents to be at Uncle B’s long enough to see you all and help you eat some of that sugar you were making not long since. But it is no go. So be it.
I received a letter from Aunt Mary yesterday. Uncle John was poorly. He had taken a back seat behind mother. Grandmother was quite poorly. The rest of the friends are quite well. It may bother you to read this. My pen is very poor and no place to write. I am sitting on the ground, a board on my lap. You can guess at the convenience of the thing.
You said you were in hopes I would return a Democrat. I think democracy has played out but all other parties, but Universalists—that is the party to which I belong. Give my love to all the friends and cousins. Yours truly, — William Christy
The following letter was written by Earl “Byron” Pierce (1842-1862), the son of Arnold Y. Pierce (1815-1891) and Wealthy Austin (1819-1902) of North East, Erie county, Pennsylvania. He wrote the letter to his siblings, Lucina Wealthy Pierce (1847-1953) and Salvador John Pierce (1844-1920).
Byron enlisted on 26 August 1862 to serve three years in Co. C, 145th Pennsylvania Volunteers. This letter was written barely over a month after his date of muster and only about ten weeks before he was killed on the battlefield at Fredericksburg on 13 December 1862. For the members of the 145th Pennsylvania, Fredericksburg was a bloody baptism of fire. Joining in the assault by the 2nd Corps, the regiment made a senseless charge against the Confederate line entrenched on Marye’s Heights that resulted in 226 casualties, nearly half of those that took the field.
My thanks to Abbey Weber Jones for providing me with a first draft of this transcript.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Harpers Ferry, [West Virginia] Thursday, Oct 2, [1862]
Dear Sister,
Well, I am well this morning and I hope that you are the same. We are having a good time here. I suppose that you have hear[d] from me since I came away from there. I have not heard from there since I came away from there. I suppose that you are having good times up there. You know that we have got to a place that we can not do as we please here. We have to stay perty close here. I would like to be in North East [Erie County, Pennsylvania] about a day. I bet that I could tell something that you would not believe but you know that I cannot come home now. But I guess we will come home some time. But I would like to have you and the rest of the girls to see us here. We sit down on the ground to write and put our paper on a box or a knapsack, so you know that we can write first rate.
Yesterday Old Abe Lincoln was here to see us. He look[ed] about the same as he did when he came through North East [Erie County, Pennsylvania]. 1
I have [to] go on drill now, so I will haft to stop till I come off from drill. I want you to write as soon as you get this letter so I can hear from home. Well, Lusina, I have gest come off from drill so I will finish my letter, but I don’t know what to write for I think of so much that I don’t know what to write first. It is very warm here in the day time, but it is as cold at night as it was in the day time. I don’t know of any news to write for you can hear more news there then we do here. I don’t think of anything else to write at present so goodbye. From a brother, — Byron E. Pierce
[to] Lusina W. Pierce
Harpers Ferry, [West Virginia] Oct 2, 1862
Dear brother,
I suppose that you would like to have me write a line to you. The first thing that I want to tell you [is] that ought never to tell that you want to enlist for you cannot never stand it. But I can stand it [much] better. Tell the boys that I want them to write to me. I suppose that you can ten[d] the mill now so papa can go [about] as much as he pleases. I hope you can so that when I come home, that you can beat me. I have see[n] one mill since I left there.
Tell Hank Stutson that I will write to him before long. I want you to do as well as you can and be a little careful who you go with. Tell all the girls & boys that I send my love to them. So, goodbye. — Byron E Pierce
[To] Salvador Pierce
Direct your letter to 145 Rgt Penn. Vol., Washington, D. C., Hancock’s Div., Sumner’s Corps, Care [of] Capt. D[yer] Loomis
1 About noon on Oct. 1, 1862, President Lincoln—traveling by rail from Washington—arrived at a stop across the Potomac River from Harpers Ferry, Va. He was to visit troops in the aftermath of the Battle of Antietam, fought two weeks earlier. The president walked into Harpers Ferry across a pontoon bridge since the bridge had been destroyed by the Confederates. See “A Hidden-In-Plain-Sight Linck to Lincoln?‘ by John Banks.
Pip: There is a corner of the internet where the mail never stops arriving — letters from Alexandria in 1862, diaries from signal stations in Georgia, dispatches to a sitting president — and Griff has been sorting it all.
Mara: This episode covers soldiers writing home from the front, a wartime diary that spans a hospital stay and the march toward Sherman's campaign, and a brief but consequential letter to Abraham Lincoln.
Pip: Let's start with the letters and diaries — the ones that tell you what the war actually felt like from the inside.
Letters From The Front: Soldiers Writing Home
Pip: The question every family letter is trying to answer is the same one: are you all right, and when are you coming back? The Rodgers brothers — Daniel, Augustine, and their cousin William Wallace, all three in Company B of the 12th Vermont Infantry — wrote a set of letters to their younger brother Jacob that trace exactly that arc, from a first winter camp to the edge of Gettysburg.
Mara: Daniel's opening letter from Alexandria sets the tone directly. Writing in November 1862, he says: "I am afraid that he won't be able to do any duty very soon — if ever. He wants to get a discharge but he can't get one yet. He had ought to be at home."
Pip: He's talking about Augustine, who's already sick before the hard months even begin. The anxiety about his brother's health sits right alongside instructions about a horse back in Vermont — how many weeks of hay, whether his ribs are covered up yet. The domestic and the desperate share the same page.
Mara: Augustine writes from Mount Pleasant Hospital through the winter of 1863, reassuring Jacob while clearly managing his own uncertainty. By March he reports he's recovered enough to be out of doors, drawing pay, and waiting on transfer orders. William Wallace's letters from the Rappahannock and then from Union Mills in June 1863 track the regiment's movement toward what would become Gettysburg, though the 12th Vermont mustered out shortly after the battle without fighting in it.
Pip: John Oliver Quinby's letter to his wife from Camp Tom Casey covers the same winter and the same anxiety from the opposite direction — a husband trying to talk a worried spouse out of worrying.
Mara: He writes: "I am afraid that if you do that, something may happen to me when I am so well off as I am." It is a man who believes, or needs to believe, that worry itself is the danger.
Pip: Then there is Benjamin Higby's single penciled note from the Shenandoah Valley — captured by guerrillas between Harpers Ferry and Winchester, robbed, escaped, and writing home to ask for money to last until payday. Remarkably matter-of-fact about the whole thing.
Mara: The James Holt letters form the longest arc here — twelve letters from Louisiana between 1862 and 1864, written to his father and mother while the 12th Maine spent most of its service in the sweltering heat far from the major campaigns. He writes about wanting a farm for his parents, about college plans, about the Louisiana constitutional convention, and about his uncle Darius who enlisted at forty-two and had to be sent home sick. Holt was killed at the Third Battle of Winchester in September 1864, two months before his enlistment would have ended.
Mara: The Lye Diary closes the theme with a different kind of document entirely — a pocket diary kept by Henry Lye on the march to Gettysburg, then continued after his death by Israel Ingolsbe, who found the book on Henry's person and used the remaining pages to write a letter to Henry's friend Myra explaining what had happened.
Pip: From a soldier's daily march log to a condolence letter written in the dead man's own notebook — that is a document that earns its place in any archive.
Mara: Which brings us to the one letter in this episode addressed not to a family member, but to the president himself.
A Kentucky Congressman Writes To Lincoln
Pip: By February 1865 the war is nearly over, and the paperwork of amnesty has begun. George Helm Yeaman — the Kentucky congressman whose vote helped pass the Thirteenth Amendment — sends a short note to Lincoln recommending nine prisoners for release under the Amnesty Oath.
Mara: The letter is brief and formal: "I recommend the release, under the Amnesty Oath, of the following prisoners." Nine names follow, spread across two days, held at Camp Morton, Camp Douglas, and Camp Chase.
Pip: Nine men, two days, one congressman who had just helped abolish slavery recommending clemency for men who had fought to preserve it. The reconstruction machinery, already turning.
Mara: That tension — between the vote Yeaman cast and the prisoners he's now vouching for — is exactly what makes the document worth reading slowly.
Pip: What stays with you is how much of the war was just waiting — for mail, for orders, for the thing that might or might not happen tomorrow.
Mara: And how much of it people tried to put into words anyway, knowing the letter might not arrive, or that they might not be there when the answer came back.
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