The following letter was written by James McCoy (1802-1865) and his wife Margaret Jane McKinney (1806-1873) of Indianapolis, Indiana. The letter was addressed to their son, Theodore Wilberforce McCoy (1839-1896) who enlisted early in the war, serving 3 months in Co. I, 6th Indiana Infantry, and then enlisted again on 29 August 1861 as a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. I, 39th Indiana Regiment (8th Indiana Mounted Infantry). He resigned his commission as a 1st Lieutenant on 1 September 1863 and returned to Indiana where he married Eliza Taggart in 1868 and eventually became a Presbyterian minister.

In this letter, Theodore’s parents beseech their son to write home as soon as possible to let them know of his safely following the Battle of Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh. The 39th Indiana did indeed participate in the 2nd day’s fight of the battle. A soldier in Co. I names John M. Stites wrote of their involvement in a letter to his father which read:

“Our regiment got in the fight at 11 o’clock on the second day and was in it until it ended which was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. All of the boys from around there went through it without a scratch. There was no anyone in our company killed and only two wounded. There was 31 in our regiment killed and wounded and 18 killed on the field and died of their wounds but that is nothing to the side of some of the rest as you have learned before this time for there was an awful sight met the eye when you walked over the field on the day after the battle was over. Go where[ever] you might, there was desolation met the eye. And there was one horrible sight and that was this—the enemy all had whiskey with powder in it and as soon as they were killed, they turned as black as negroes and it looked horrible.” [See—1862: John Muchmore Stites to William Muchmore on Spared & Shared 22.]

Transcription

Indianapolis, Indiana
April 11th 1862

My dear Theodore,

Since we heard on Tuesday of the great battle at Pittsburg Landing, and that Gen. Buell’s forces arrived to participate in the battle and victory of Monday, and that there was so terrible a destruction of life on both sides, we have been painfully anxious with reference to your safety. We exercise great patience as well as we can, but it is very trying to have to wait so long—especially to your Mother whose dreams & imaginings in her weak state of health added to what is real are almost more than she can bear.

“Our hopes contemplate you as safe and well, having passed the perils of the fight, and contributed your part to the achievement of the great victory; while our fears see you fallen & dead on the field, or wounded & suffering…”

James McCoy to Lt. Theodore W. McCoy, 11 April 1862

We do not certainly know that your regiment was in the battle but we think it was and I send you this by J. L. Evans, hoping that my dear boy yet lives and is safe; although of course we have many fears. If our hopes instead of our fears are to be realized, let us see at the earliest possible hour a letter from your own hand, bringing your own thoughts. This will relieve the anxiety of fond hearts at home. Our hopes contemplate you as safe and well, having passed the perils of the fight, and contributed your part to the achievement of the great victory; while our fears see you fallen & dead on the field, or wounded & suffering and perhaps long neglected during the pressure of the tedious and terrible day.

We have prayed for you every day and if you are safe, we will thank God for his gracious preservation, and if not, we will submit to the Divine Will as it becomes us, I hope; believing that to Him you have committed your way, and your soul to His keeping, while periling your life in the righteous cause for which it is an honor to live, to suffer, and if need be, to die—a cause which God will surely make triumphant.

I wrote you to Nashville, Camp Andy Johnson, a long, long letter which you did not receive before marching, nor before you wrote me from Columbia, but which I hope you received afterwards. Ma is in bed today and has been in her room most of the time since we knew the battle was pending. I have no word from James since the 6th of March, when he was at Cumberland Ford, 14 miles from the Gap—well, except a bad cold. I will not write of other matters till we hear of your safety. If any casualty has happened to you, let the whole truth be sent us.

Ever your affectionate Father, Mother, & Sister

Per James McCoy

[In a different hand and in pencil]

Dear Theodore, if you have been in the battle, will not this satisfy you my dear child? If you value your own life & mine, do resign and come home. You are buoyed with future hopes and prospect of life & will you risk it any longer? I feel that I can’t live in this state of anxiety. The battles will be [ ].