1863: Edwin Ruthven Brush to Amy (Fletcher) Brush

Edwin Ruthven Brush in later years.

The following letters were written by Edward Ruthven Brush (1836-1908) who came to the 2nd Vermont Infantry with draftees and substitutes in the fall of 1863 and was assigned to company H. Though he entered the regiment as a private, it was not long before Edwin was commissioned an Assistant Surgeon. He was with the regiment until 15 July 1865.

Edwin was the son of Salmon Brush (1804-1887) and Sarah Lovegrove (1817-1890) of Cambridge, Vermont. He graduated from the University of Vermont in 1858 and succeeded his father as a medical practitioner in his hometown. He was married to Amy Fletcher (1835-1915) in 1860.

Letter 1

[Note: This letter is from the private collection of Greg Herr and was transcribed and published on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Camp Vermont
October 7th 1863

Dearest one,

Having arrived at my place of destination, I hasten to write you thinking you would be anxious to hear from me. We left Long Island Thursday evening October 1st on board the U. S. transport Forest City. It was very calm and pleasant when we started and continued so until the next day about noon when the wind commenced blowing and continued to blow until the next day so that we had a pretty rough time that night. But it did not prevent my sleeping that night, except when the ship would come up with an extra jerk when it would wake me up. Some of the boys were pretty sick about that time but strange as it may seem, I was not sea sick in the least.

I got cold on the island and for a day or two my lungs were quite sore. The wind stopped blowing the next day and it was very pleasant again so that I was on deck most all day Saturday. We were going up the Chesapeake Bay. We had to go to Portsmouth to leave some New Hampshire boys off whom I shall speak presently. I was on deck when we went up by Fortress Monroe. It is a very formidable fort. There were quite a number of gunboats laying in the harbor near there. We went by some points of interest on our way up. There was the place where the Merrimack came out from Norfolk and attacked our fleet and sunk some of our boats, and the boys in the fort were expecting she would come down and attack them. But just at that time the Monitor made its appearance and drove the Merrimack back to Norfolk where the rebels blew her up when Gen. Wool took the place. What remains of her lays near the shore above Norfolk in sight of where we were at anchor.

Norfolk and Portsmouth are quite pleasantly situated one on either side of the James [Elizabeth] River, nearly opposite each other. There are some very good buildings in them but they seemed quite deserted. There seemed nothing going on except what government was doing (the effects of war). Amy, when we were coming up the Bay, I could not help thinking how happy I should be if I was on a passenger boat and you with me. If you had been with me, I should have enjoyed myself very much indeed. It was so warm and pleasant.

We landed the New Hampshire boys a little after noon Saturday and started on our way down the bay immediately. We had to go down to the mouth of the Potomac river where we arrived in the night and had to anchor our boat and stay until Sunday morning when we started up the river for Alexandria. There was a cold wind all day Sunday so that I did not go on deck much that day, but was on deck some of the time but did not have a chance to see as much as I should have been glad to see. I just got a glimpse of the tomb of Washington but did not see enough to say anything about it.

I promised to tell you about the New Hampshire boys. Well there were about three hundred and sixty aboard the vessel. Out of them, there were some thirty or forty New York roughs who were taken to New Hampshire by substitute brokers. There were a set of thieves, robbers, and pick pockets and they went into the army for that purpose and we expected to have a pretty rough time when we started from Boston. And we were not disappointed either. They did not meddle with Vermonters as much as they did with Maine and New Hampshire boys for two reasons. First, we did not have much money with us and they knew it. Secondly, we posted a guard in front of our bunks and gave what little money we had to our Captain or took care of it otherwise. But they would [go] to a man’s bunk when he was asleep and rifle his pockets or they would get a crowd around, pull his hat off, pull him around generally, and in the scrape, would take what money they could find. They took one hundred and fifty dollars from one man and from that down to five or ten from others. There was more or less fighting as long as they remained on the boat. But you may be sure of one thing—that men never left a place when those that were left were more pleased than we were when they left us. The boys did not hardly know what to do they were so pleased to get rid of them. I did not write you about them before we left because I thought you might feel concerned about me.

We arrived at Alexandria Monday night where we received our arms and equipments. We stayed in Alexandria over night and the next morning we started for our regiment. We came to Culpeper (which is about sixty miles from Alexandria) on the railroad where we arrived about two o’clock p.m. From there we marched to here which is about 12 or 15 miles from Culpeper. We arrived here a little after dark, hungry and tired. I expected to be pretty lame today but had a good night’s sleep and got up feeling quite well this morning.

The [Vermont] Brigade came here day before yesterday to do picket duty so you see they are pretty well in the front. The country we came through was anything but beautiful—no fences, not much growing except weeds. In fact, if I had not known that I was on the sacred soil of Virginia, I should have thought I was in a wilderness. But then I suppose I am not. We are in sight of the ruins of a house that the boys tore down yesterday to built their tents of. I believe after they had got it nearly torn down, Col. Grant put a guard around it but the guard did not prevent the boys from getting what they wanted to make themselves comfortable. They believe in taking what rebel property they want for their own use. I stayed with Hack last night. As soon as I got back here, he took me to his tent, got me a good supper, and I went to bed. I have been assigned to Co. H. Uncle Joseph is out on picket so I have not seen him yet.

The cavalry is not far from here. I hope to get word to George that I am here so he will come and see me. My darling, I want to see you so much. I love you more than I ever thought I did. Do you know how much I love you> You must write as often as you can. It does so much good to receive one of your letters. They are all so kind. You do not know how happy I should be if I could only be with you as I used to be. I think I should try and be better to you than I used to be. You must be careful and [not] work too hsard. Kiss our little darling for me and think I am kissing you for it. Hack sends his respects. Give my love to all the folks. I must stop writing for this time. From your own darling, — Edwin

To my dearest one.

Direct to E. R. Brush, Co. H, 2nd Regiment Volunteers, Washington D. C.


Letter 2

Camp near Brandy Station
December 4th 1863

My dearest one,

You undoubtedly think it is a very long time since you last heard from me. Well, it is but it is not my fault. I would have written if I could but we have been out on an expedition the last week and have neither received nor sent out any mail. So you see that you have had a letter since I have. I am looking for a letter from home today as there is a large mail at headquarters and our post master is getting it as fast as he can.

We started from here one week ago yesterday—it being Thanksgiving Day—and crossed the Rapidan [river] that night, both tired and hungry. For my Thanksgiving supper, I had har tack, coffee, and raw pork instead of roast turkey, chicken pie, &c. with which I suppose you was stuffed to your utmost capacity. You do not know how much I pitied you too when I thought how uncomfortable you must have felt and would have gladly taken some of your eatables if I could have done so and thereby have relieved your stomach of some little part of its load which I think I would have made you feel easier as well as myself.

The next morning we got breakfast very early which consisted of coffee, raw pork, and hard tack and started again on our way. We traveled very slowly, being in the rear of the army, until just at night when we came up to support the 3rd Corps who were engaging the enemy where we remained until about two o’clock in the morning when we again took up our line of march and marched until daylight when we stopped for breakfast. We had some potatoes for breakfast. After breakfast we again started and marched until we came to a pine grove where we formed in line of battle and remained there until the next morning which was Sunday when we moved into a clearing where we lay in line of battle until some time in the night when we moved off through the woods in front of the rebel line.

It was very cold and they would not let us have any fire as they expected to attack the enemy the next morning and did not want them to know it as if they had have known it they could have shelled us very much as we were in good range of their batteries and the woods where we were filled with troops. But in the morning they found that they could not get at the rebs without a great sacrifice of life, there being a brook and swamp to cross which the water was five or six feet deep, and after we crossed that, we had quite a distance to go under fire, and as it was not practicable to leave the woods in the day time, we remained there until dark without any fire.

At dark the troops commenced moving off and they all left except the pickets. The 3rd Regiment was on picket and I was with them so I remained until the next morning when we moved about two miles where we remained until 3 o’clock the next morning when we commenced to fall back and reached here yesterday afternoon, tired and hungry. I did not have a hard tack for two days and should not have had anything if they had not have killed a beef as our wagons could not get to us. My horse did not have anything to eat from Wednesday morning about 2 o’clock until last night at dark. Take it all around, I think we had a pretty rough time of it. It rained all day Saturday when we lay in the pine woods but it cleared off just at night and has no trained since.

I do not know what the move amounted to unless it served to prevent the rebs from reinforcing any other place which I think it probably did. We did not have much fighting to do except what the 3rd Corps did on Friday when they made an attack on the enemy and drove him back and a little that was done by the 2nd Corps the same day. I see by the papers that the rebs claim that they drove the 3rd Corps back several miles but the fact is that the rebels left in such a hurry from their entrenchments that they did not even stop to bury their own dead. I saw some dead rebs the next day as we were going along.

The country that we passed through was mostly woods. A good deal of it was second growth pine. The land had evidently been cultivated some time as we could see where the rows had been. They had probably exhausted the land in raising tobacco and then left it to grow up to scrub pine. Vermont farmers would not call that very good farming, I think.

I feel very well today. I find some difference between riding and going afoot and carrying a load on one’s back. We have been having some very cold weather the past week but I have managed to sleep warm, having plenty of blankets. But some of the boys have suffered a good deal and it has been very hard for the sick riding in the ambulances. But all have done as well as could be expected.

Amy, you do not know how much I have thought of you these past few days. If I could see you a little while, how happy it would make me feel. If I could have one good kiss from you every night, I could endure almost anything. I have been afraid you were worrying about me by not hearing from me which makes me feel bad because I do not want you to worry about me at all as I am not in much danger of rebel bullets. I have just got a paper from home. I must close.

From your darling husband, — Edwin

To my dearest wife Amy

How is our darling one. I hope she is well. Give my love to all our folks. Hope you are well. Let me know all about Thanksgiving; where you were, &c. — Edwin

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