Sadly there is too little information for me to do anything but hazard a guess at this soldier’s identity and regiment. We only know that he was named “Bob.” But it is too good of a letter not to publish it. It was penned ten days after the Battle of Fredericksburg from the author’s winter camp near Belle Plain, Virginia. In his letter, the author tells his father, he was “been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle,” adding that the “soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war.”

One regiment is mentioned—the “130th Regiment”—which may be one that recruited and organized in the same home town as the one the author served in. However, the state name was not provided.

Ironically, Bob’s letter was written on patriotic stationery with the word “VICTORY” emblazoned across the top though it contained news of one of the worst defeats in the history of the Army of the Potomac.

Transcription

Camp in the pines near Belle Plains, Virginia
December 23, 1862

My dear father,

I received yours of the 16th yesterday and I can assure you I was pleased as I had no letter from home for at least three weeks.

We have been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle—that’s Burnside for them. But it must be acknowledged it was done systematically. Some of our batteries muffled their wheels with blankets. All moved off as quiet as mice. Our officers did not speak gruff that night passing you.

We were not engaged with our muskets on the left. It was all artillery except a little picket firing. Enough of that. I can tell you more when the war is over and the soldiers are at leisure. We do not hear anything about the 130th Regiment at all. Will and I have bought ourselves boots. We got tired of wading Virginia mud with shoes, but only take care of the boots. They will be well seasoned for us when we get home which I hope will not be long. This unnatural war must stop.

The soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war. What do they care at Washington as long as the money rolls into their pockets. That’s what I think, and that I know to be the opinion of the men in general.

If I was at home now, they might draft me and then do what they could. I can see into this war now. I thought I was going for the cause of my country but far different—it is to fill some man’s pocket.

We are going into winter quarters now but I do not know how long it will last. We had orders about a week ago to the same effect, and just as we had the logs cut and carried where we wanted them old style, get ready to move. This time they will get them up anyway.

About those clothes, I do not know what to say. Better let them a week yet. We are both well and our respects to all. No more. Your obedient son, — Rob

You did not say one word about mother—whether she is well or not. Has she got a cough this winter? Mother, Bob won’t eat your pies this winter but would like to have one tomorrow for Christmas. Hoping to see you all soon, I shall close.