The following three letters were written by Andrew Shaaber (1844-1922), the son of George Shaaber (1823-1848) and Caroline Shissler (1819-1885) of Reading, Pennsylvania. He wrote the letters to his sister Mary Shaaber (1846-1922) or his cousin Hannah E. Johnston.

Andrew wrote these letters while serving in Co. B, 195th Pennsylvania Infantry—a hundred-days regiment organized in the summer of 1864. The regiment moved from Camp Curtin to Baltimore, Md., July 24, and then to Monocacy Junction July 28. They were attached to 3rd Separate Brigade, 8th Corps, Middle Department, to August, 1864. 1st Separate Brigade, 8th Corps, to October, 1864. Reserve Division, Dept. of West Virginia, to November, 1864. They guarded the bridge and railroad at Monocacy Junction, Md., till October. Then they were assigned guard duty in Berkeley County, W. Va., along B&O Railroad till November. They mustered out November 4, 1864. 

Letter 1

Camp Curtin
Sunday Morning, August 4, [1864]

Mary,

Today we leave this place for Washington and although I do not know of much to write about, I thought I would at least acquaint you with the fact that we are at last about to leave the dust and dirt of Camp Curtin—perhaps for a better place, most likely for a worse. Yesterday I went to town when the 11 o’clock train (which arrives here at half past one) came in but failed to see any of the folks. They could not have been in the train as I looked in all the cars. Maybe they came through in the first train.

I have just now finished reading the Reading Journal which was given me by the Captain. I do not know how to tell you to direct letters to me as I am not sure as to what is the number of the regiment. Half the fellows wear 194 on their caps and the other half 193. I will write you again as soon as we are settled and by that time I will be certain as to what the number of our regiment is.

We do not leave here until evening so that we have lots of time to prepare but I want to get this letter in the office this morning so that you will receive it tomorrow. Excuse bad writing. At some future time I will indite and epistle to you in the most approved style of modern chirography. Give my love to Hannah, Mary, and Annie and all the other folks, and believe me to be your most obedient brother, — Andrew

I wish you would send me some stamps. I owe Ike Shearer three. I have money but cannot get to town again before leaving and it is so handy to have a few of them in the house you know. — A

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Letter 2

Camp at Monocacy
Thursday Evening, September 8th [1864]

Cousin Hannah,

I received your welcome letter yesterday afternoon just before going on picket and had intended answering it today for which purpose I had carried this sheet along out with me, but owing to the rain I was compelled to postpone writing until my return to camp this evening. As it is now almost bedtime and as I cannot write any tomorrow if the weather is fine (we are busy building a log shanty), I must be brief.

You had heard I was shot. After making careful inquiries I am pleased to say that your informant was mistaken. Little as I would like being shot, still less would I like being accidentally shot.

Four hundred of our men have re-enlisted for one year. Many of them have gone into artillery and cavalry so that I cannot surely say whether or not the Old Regimental organization will be kept up. The Colonel is evidently anxious that it should be kept up and I hear that three more Lancaster and one Harrisburg company will join him. If enough of the old regiment go with him, [it will] enable him to retain his command. Several of the Colonel’s acts within the last few days are causing him to become somewhat unpopular For instance, the Lancaster agents who were here offered $450 Bounty; the Berks agents offered $500. The Colonel—who hails from Columbia—wished his section to have as good a chance as ours and wanted none to offer more than $450, even at one time going so far as to threaten to arrest all who offered more, giving as a reason that it discouraged enlistments. The men couldn’t see it in the same light and wanting all they could get, naturally got mad at such orders. It was all fixed right though at last and the Berks agents (from 4 townships, I believe) got all the men they wanted.

Capt. Markley has raised a one-year company. Eighteen men from our company go with him. Had our Captain raised a company, they would have gone with him, only more of them. The re-enlisted expect furloughs of 15 days in a few days. You would be amused to hear the different speculations during the day as to what is to become of us poor boys who did not re-enlist. According to some, next week will see us at our homes. Others say we will be scattered around the different towns of Pennsylvania to help enforce the drafts. Others say we will serve our time here guarding the railroad as [Gen.] Early still menaces us, though we ain’t skeart [scared] as long as Sheridan is about. Another crowd (and I incline to their opinion a little myself) predict that it will soon be our fortune to be engaged in active operations either at Petersburg or in the Shenandoah valley. I would not object to the latter as I think the government has a right to expect something more of us than we have hitherto done. Nothing, however, will come amiss to me as I try to always look at the bright side which I am sure is the best way, since by so doing I find that I get along as well as the very best and better than most.

I was surprised to hear that you and Maria were going to Lewisburg. I shouldn’t wonder if Maria would get homesick. Then of course she will say, I want to go home, haint so cozent Hannah.

A couple of our boys are homesick. I never saw more miserable fellows. They are both under 17 and are getting as thin and pale as can be. One of Co A’s men—an Englishman from Wilkesbarre—died last week at the Relay house on his way home. Nothing was the matter with him but homesickness and the Doctor, knowing he could not be cured here, said he must be sent home. But it was just a little too late.

I wrote to Mahlon last Monday and I am going to write home in a couple of days. When I commenced this, I had not intended writing so much. I guess you will say it is awfully dirty and horribly written but then remember the circumstances and believe me to be your affectionate Coz, — Andrew

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Letter 3

Monocacy
September 25, 1864

Sister Mary,

I feel sleepy this evening but as I cannot go to sleep until after roll call, I shall occupy the interim in answering your letter. Last night and today I was on picket and of course had very little sleep. But I intend making up for it tonight when once I get started. What shall I say? To tell the truth, I hardly know what to say. But as the letter must be written, I suppose I shall have to press into the service anything to fill up—so here goes.

You have of course heard of the fighting done by Sheridan’s Army down this way during the past week. Early on Monday morning we heard the booming of the cannon up the valley and at once surmised that there was going to be a big thing of it. Throughout the day until evening we heard the firing—sometimes slowly but oftentimes as fast as we could count. And although we could get no information until next morning, we all felt sure that all was going well, as indeed it did. But although Sheridan has done well so far, it is evidently intended that he shall do more. Three or four regiments of old soldiers pass this way “en route” for his army every day which more than counterbalances what he has lost in battle or what must be used as guards so that the army, instead of being depleted, is being strengthened. Yesterday the artillery and pontoon boats taken from the Rebs went by here to Washington, and last night 1500 of the Johnnies themselves went along the same route under a strong guard. I hear that 6000 more prisoners will come down tonight.

Last night as the 84th New York Regiment were passing here, one of the men who was sleeping on the bumpers of a house car tumbled under the wheels and was injured so much that he died between 7 & 8 o’clock this morning. He was buried with honors soon after dinner near my tent.

Now for roll call; then welcome Morpheus.

Monday Morning. Last Tuesday I wrote a letter to Mother and gave it to Deysher thinking that he would start for home next day. But he has not yet gone and I do not when he will go as Gen. Tyler, by whom the furlough must be approved, is absent. I will see Theodore this morning and get the letter from him again and give him this one instead, should there be any probability of his leaving today. If not, I will send it by mail. If Deysher should get home and come to the house, I want you to give him my shirt, a towel and an old suspender if there is any about as one of mine is torn up. I am glad you sent me the dollar, but I should be better pleased if you would send me a little more. I want to get a company record which will cost a dollar and I must get my shoes half-soled which I guess will cost another dollar. Then too I should like a little to spend. This is probably the last money I shall ask for as our time expires on the first of November.

There is the most provoking uncertainty among us as to what is to be done with us. If we do not get our new clothing today or tomorrow, I should not be surprised if you would see us at home next week. I would rather get the clothing though and serve the full time. One of the New York hundred-days regiments passed up the road to Sheridan yesterday. They have only 20 days to serve yet. — Andrew