The following letters were written by Thomas Richard Petrie (1841-1923), the son of Robert Petrie (1808-1873) and Margaret Harter (1816-1906). He wrote all four of his letter to Gertrude Emily Sanders (1842-1924), his future wife.
Thomas was 21 years old when he enlisted on 5 September 1862 as a corporal in Co. F, 152nd New York Infantry. He was promoted to a sergeant on 11 February 1863 and mustered out of the service on 13 July 1865. For a couple of weeks during August 1864, Thomas served as the First Sergeant of his company.
The 152nd New York Infantry was recruited in the counties of Herkimer and Mohawk and mustered into the U. S. service on 15 October 1862. The regiment left on the 25th and was stationed in the defenses of Washington until the succeeding April, when it was ordered to Suffolk and assigned to Terry’s-brigade, Corcoran’s division, 7th corps. After sharing in the defense of Suffolk, it served under Gen. Keyes on the Peninsula and in July was ordered to New York city during the draft riots, remaining there until October, when it joined the Army of the Potomac and was assigned to the 1st brigade, 2nd (Webb’s) division, 2nd corps. In this command it shared in the Mine Run campaign, being engaged at Robertson’s tavern. In the Wilderness campaign it fought in Gibbon’s division, 2nd corps and was active in all the series of battles ending with the surrender of Lee at Appomattox. Its heaviest losses occurred at the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, North Anna river, Cold Harbor, first assault on Petersburg, Weldon railroad, Strawberry Plains, Reams’ station and Boydton plank road. Its losses during the whole campaign amounted to a total of 303 killed, wounded and missing. Its last battle was at Farmville two days before Lee’s surrender.
Letter 1
152nd Regt. New York State Volunteers, Col. L[eonard] Boyer
Company F, Capt. David Hill
Camp Marcy, Va.
January 11th 1863
My Darling Betrothed,
Again it is Sunday and I find myself as usual writing to my distant and much loved friend. I often think and ask myself the question why do I write so often and the only definite answer that I can give is that it is a pleasure to me. I said the only answer I could give was that it was a pleasure to me but it is not only that, but I think and trust it is also a pleasure to you to receive and peruse my letters, no matter how often. I have good reason for thinking so too, judging from what you have written from time to time. And besides, I know it is a pleasure for me to receive a line from you no matter how often, and I know of no reason why it should not be as great a pleasure to you. But if I should trouble you too often, please make it manifest, will you?
Hank has got supper ready and I must adjourn. We are going to have an oyster soup.
Sunday eve. Again I have taken up my pen to finish my letter. Gertie, you do not know how hard it is for me to write a letter. If it was anybody else but you, I could not write as often. But if my writing is poor and my composition is still poorer, I think and trust that my friend and companion of former times will not criticize my letters too closely. And if she does, I hope will excuse all imperfections.
Then Git [Gertie] and the General went to the ball? I could not think why you sent me the mittens until I received your last letter. I did not think when I sent to see my southern friends and neighbors that you would hear of it so soon, but so it is at last. Mr. H. J. H. has accomplished his end. And now you cling to the old stand by. Git, I did not think that was your only refuge. If I judge rightly, you did not have a very good time at the party. I am sorry to hear it. You did not run over anybody, did you? If you had, I think you would have told me. Your sleighing must have been delightful without any snow. I suppose Heman had those big bells and a two-horse tree and drove up in big style as is his wont.
Git, you may think I am rather dull of comprehension in speaking of that dear old watch after your spelling it such plain letters. It was very plain at first.
Your father wished to know how his friend Mr. [Ebenezer] Pearl gets along. Well, I will tell you. The old fellow is rather bad off. He is sick and has been five or six weeks. Besides, I think he is a little homesick. Today I heard that he was a going to be taken to the hospital. The health of the regiment is not very good in general. 1
It was news to me to hear that Shully Petrie and Lieut. Conern were engaged but there has been stranger things than that happened. Git, you said in your letter that you could hardly bear the idea of my being gone three years. I will say without boasting if you do not see me within three years, you need never expect to see me. This sheet is nearly full. I have a little more spare time and I will take another.
[rest of letter is missing]
1 Ebenezer A. Pearl was 44 years old at the time of his enlistment. He was discharged for disability on 28 February 1863.
Letter 2
Four miles from Petersburg, Va.
Sunday, June 26, 1864
My darling Gittie,
I do not write to you today to only assure you how fondly and dearly I still love you (which you know is the case), but to ease your anxious mind and let you know I am still unhurt and well.
It has been some time since I last wrote. If I remember correctly, it was four weeks ago today. But as my thoughts wander back over those four weeks, it does not seem more than as many days. But what has been accomplished with this great Army of the Potomac in that time? Enough to fill pages in history, and until then it will never be known what was transpiring all along the long lines of our armies.
But Gittie, without giving a detailed account of all that came under my observation, I might relate some few things that I have seen that would make your blood run cold. But I will not do it. I will try and choose some more pleasant subject than relating the horrors of the battlefield.
I see by the Journal & Courier (of which I believe you are a reader) that there was a full description given of the 152nd [New York Infantry] in their first charge upon the Johnnies and what an imperishable name they have won. But Git, there is but few of them left at present to wear the laurels they so nobly won and richly deserve. All there is in the regiment at present is between 90 and 100. The rest are killed, wounded, and prisoners. There was about 50 taken prisoners this week.
As I think of the regiment and then think what if I had been with them, I cannot help but feel thankful that I was so fortunate as to be detached from them in this great and trying struggle—not so much for myself do I care, but [for] my darling Gittie. How much anxiety and trouble have you been saved from by my staying where I am and how could I help but feel thankful for saving my dearest friend from care and sorrow.
It is almost the 4th of July again. As I think of it, I can hardly believe it. Still it is so, and we have been celebrating that day for almost two months, both day and night with shot and shell. There is hardly a night passes over without there is an awful fight. To hear the roar of 40 or 50 guns and see the shells as they go shrieking through the air on their deadly missions, and the thousands of muskets as they break at irregular periods upon the midnight air, it altogether makes one of the grandest, still the wildest sight that I ever anticipated.
Gittie, how do the boys feel about the coming draft? I should think they would sell themselves at present pretty cheap. What think you? I hear that Minerva Searle is teaching school this summer. How does she and Mr. H. L. A. make out? As well as ever I hope.
The weather here has been very warm for the past week and we have not had a drop of rain in 5 or 6 weeks. Lieut. [John W.] Quinby is about returning to school to Fairfield again. He wrote that he thought he would pass near Eatonville and he would be happy to do me any favor in that vicinity I wished him to and he spoke particularly of speaking a good word for me to Miss G. E. S. so if you should happen to see him, you need not be alarmed if he would speak of me.
I am sitting today under the shady branches of a large oak and it is comparatively cool to what it is out in the sun. But how I wish I might change my seat here for one where if only for a few hours—I will leave you to answer where I would like to change this seat for.
Gittie, I have not had a letter from you in more than a month. Why is it? Please write as soon as convenient. Give my respects to all your people and remember me as your most sincere and loving friend, — Thomas
I send you a picture of E[dward] C. Townsend, formerly Orderly Sergeant in Co. F, 152nd. Now captain in Colored Troops [23rd USCT]. He wants I should accept a commission in that branch of the service. What do you think of it?
Letter 3
Burkeville Junction, Virginia
April 29th 1865
My dearest friend,
How happy I am this afternoon to be able to sit down and acknowledge myself the recipient of another of your truly kind and loving letters. If your happiness is governed somewhat by my letters and I do not doubt it, whose letters do you suppose mine is governed by? I little expected a letter so soon but must say I was gladly surprised this morning upon the receiving of your letter of the 23rd inst. I must give my friend the praise of doing extremely well in writing so often to her very unworthy friend.
You will see by my last that I had received your letter of the 17th and I might here remark that I thought when you were writing that letter, you was very low spirited and perhaps not in the humor. But I may be doing my friend great injustice in entertaining any such thoughts. If I am, I most humbly beg your pardon. Do not think, Gertie, by my writing as I have, that I mean anything harsh or bad, but only wish to find out your true feelings when writing it. You say in your last in speaking that, “you were not very happy.”
Yes, Gittie, the assassination of our President proved but too true. You ask can the northern soldiers ever look upon the south with the least degree of respect? I think if they were again called upon to fight the southern traitor—Rebel or assassins—whatever they may be called (none of those names being appropriate for them), their watchword would be, “Remember our President!” While they know it was a northern man who held the weapon that killed our much lamented President, they also know and bear in mind that it was treason fired it, and that too approved by J. Davis and more of its leaders in the so-called “Confederate States”—but Confederate States no more. Yes, Gittie, and will but feebly express our grief for our President this particular time. Still, I think his sucessor a very able man and will not show much mercy to Rebels.
Then you are happy in thinking our soldiers will soon get their discharges and peace shall again reign? And if it should prove true, you know of one who would be happy to welcome back her soldier friend and ask me if I can guess who? Now Git, you know I am the poorest hand in the world to guess. So won’t you tell me who that person is? …
[the last two pages may or may not be from the same letter]
…How sad is the fate of our much beloved President. I wish the assassins could be caught and their fate left to be decided with the soldiers. They would meet their just doom in a short time, I will warrant you. His death has caused, I think I may safely say, the most general mourning throughout the land of any person ever known, and it seems so much worse at this particular time when the whole Nation were rejoicing over recent victories and as we thought were about to see the war satisfactorily settled. The Nation and the people, and soldiers, have lost one of their truest friends. And I think the most of them appreciate his worth…
[unsigned]
Letter 4
Headquarters Second Army Corps
Richmond, Virginia
Friday, May 5, 1865
My Dearest Friend,
At last I have seen the Rebel Capitol and am now within its precincts enroute for home. We broke camp at Burkesville Junction on the afternoon of the 2nd and got here this morning at 9—a distance of 55 miles, and tomorrow morning we start for Washington, another little journey of 140 miles to go on foot—that is, the troops (myself excepted of course). It will take us 12 days from here and I thought I would write my friend a line while here to inform her of our whereabouts. It is thought we shall be mustered out of service as soon as we arrive in Washington. What a pleasant thought—a day that we have long been looking for.
I am going over into the city as soon as I finish this letter to see some of the principal buildings such as Castle Thunder, Libby Prison, Spottswood Hotel, and the Rebel Capitol, and whatever else may come in my way. So if I am either brief in my remarks this afternoon, my friend I am sure will excuse me for our time is short here. You will not again hear from me until we arrive in Washington and then I will write soon after our arrival. With the thoughts of soon returning to home and friends, our journey will be very much lessened of its hardships. It hardly seems like reality on come home soon, but it is the prevailing opinion that we will all be home by the 4th of July and perhaps sooner.
Well, Gittie, please excuse lead pencil writing and all mistakes, and with kind regards to all inquiring friends and with a (goodbye kiss) and much love, I remain as ever yours and yours truly, — Thomas R. Petrie
Spared & Shared 23 