The following letter was written by Albert Everett (1840-1937), the son of Leonard Fessenden and Freelove Darling of Worcester county, Massachusetts. When Albert was 14, his widowed father took Hannah Hopkins as his second wife, she being the widow of George Mann. When Albert was 21 years old, he gave up his shoe cobbler’s hammer for a rifle and stepped into the ranks of Co. H, 15th Massachusetts Infantry as a private. Joining him in the same company was his 19 year-old step-brother William Maxy Burlingame Mann (1842-1861) with a name longer than his time in service; he was killed on the field of the regiment’s first fight, the Battle of Ball’s Bluff, on 21 October 1861

Albert was promoted to Corporal in 1 May 1863 and barely had his stripes sewed on when he was wounded in action in the fight near the Codori Barn on the 2nd day of Gettysburg. He was not alone. During the 3-day battle, the 15th Massachusetts lost 22 killed, 93 wounded, and 28 missing or captured—a casualty rate of 60%. Albert survived his wounds, however, and finished out his term of service, mustering out on 15 July 1864. Afterwards he volunteered as a teacher in the Freedman’s Bureau in South Carolina. [Historical Digression by Patrick Browne]

This letter was written while the regiment remained a part of the Corps of Observation stationed at Poolesville, Maryland–about halfway along the Potomac between Washington and Harpers Ferry. While in this assignment, they were called upon to play a significant role in the disastrous Battle of Ball’s Bluff on October 21, 1861, and a large number of the regiment was taken prisoner during the rout. They then spent the winter of 1861-1862 in camp along the Potomac and were not transferred to the Army of the Potomac until late March, just in time for the Peninsular Campaign.

Transcription

Camp Foster
Poolesville, Maryland
February 24, 1862

Dear Father & Mother,

I sit down to write you a few lines today that probably will be the last that I shall date from this camp as we expect to move in a day or two. Nothing certain is known by us as to our place of destination. Last night after the Captain had inspected the company, he read an order that we should pack all our things that we did not want to carry in our knapsacks into boxes and have them all ready marked so when we moved, we should have only to nail them up and leave them in the Commissary’s care. The story is going round that we are going to join General Gorman’s Brigade and go to Washington and then go to join General Burnside. Gorman’s Brigade consists of our 20th, the N. Y. 34th and Minnesota 1st, I believe, and will be accompanied by another brigade—whose, I don’t know. All the regimental teams and camp furniture will be left, but what we can take on our backs. These large Sibley tents that hold 20 men are to be left and we are to carry little rubber ones that will hold 4 men, can be taken into four pieces, and can be pitched with our guns.

Whew, what a wind. Since writing the above, there has been no little commotion in camp. I have just come in from a sight of a very lively scene. Half or more of the tents in camp are flat as can be. Every tent in the Grafton quarters but one is down. Two of our tents are down and another is halfway and beneath its heavy folds, fifteen or twenty boys are struggling to get out like so many rats fastened up in a meal bag. The Clinton boys on the other side of us are no better off and we see part of them swarming round the ruins of their houses and the others are holding on to theirs with all their might hoping to keep them up if possible. Most of those who are not in such predicaments are indulging in the most hearty laughter at the ill luck of the rest.

When the blow first broke upon us, the boys all swarmed out and each catching an axe or club of wood, soon tightened the pins so we have not been rendered shelterless yet, though if the wind continues to blow such a hurricane, we shall have to “keep warm by traveling” before long. Rufus Belding has just come in bareheaded. He was down at the guard tents and standing beside one when over it came, knocked him flat, and held him there a minute or two. When he managed to get out from beneath the canvas, he found his hat had disappeared—on the “double quick” probably. This field is like Lawson Taylor’s plains—only it is up higher and as much exposed as the land up on Sutton Hills. ¹

I am going to pack up 2 blankets with some of Lon’s & Reuben’s and other things and send them home if it is allowed, which some say is not so. But we have no use for them and are going to do so if we can. Lon sent home for a box of things, but he cant take them and if you see his folks, tell them not to send it.

I send you $5 more. I should 10 but if we are going to move, I shall probably want some of the other bill. I must close this here as it is so cold, the wind blowing into the tent terribly that I can’t write and the Captain is just now telling us to put out the fire and throw down the tent for the present. Give my love to all. Yours affectionately, — Albert Everett

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¹ This same wind storm was described by George W. Fernald of Co. C, 82nd New York Infantry who wrote to his cousin George on the same day from Camp Gorman (at Poolesville). “It is raining here now & the wind is a blowing a gale here. But I close now for our tent is blowing down.”