The following letters were written by Edward Townsend Webster (1841-1864), the son of Roswell Webster, Jr. (1815-1864) and Harriet Townsend (1822-1896) of Leighton township, Allegan county, Michigan. Ed enlisted on 10 June 1861 to serve three years in Co. E, 3rd Michigan Infantry. He was killed in action 5 May 1864 on the opening day’s fight in the Battle of the Wilderness. A memorial marker in Hooker Cemetery in Wayland, Michigan, states that Ed’s brother, Henry W. Webster (1846-1864) died in Andersonville Prison on 24 August 1864. Henry served with Emma’s brother, Isaac Clinton Wade.

The 3rd Michigan’s baptism of fire took place at Blackburn’s Ford on July 18, 1861—a prelude to the first battle of Bull Run on July 21. The Third suffered its first wartime casualty early on Saturday morning, July 20, 1861, when Homer Morgan of Company B allegedly took his own life. The regiment covered the retreat of the federal troops from Bull Run on July 21, and subsequently went into a succession of camps around Washington throughout the fall and winter of 1861-62. The regiment participated in McClellan’s Peninsular campaign of 1862 and suffered its worst casualties to date at the Battle of Seven Oaks, Virginia on May 31, 1862 and at Groveton (or Second Bull Run) on August 29, 1862.

Ed addressed the letters to his cousin, Emma Frances Wade (b. 1846), who became the wife of John A. Holliday (1843-1913) in 1862. Nothing more could be found regarding her. It’s believed she died in the mid-1860s. Emma’s parents were Thaddeus Wade and Mary J. Townsend of Leighton township, Allegan county, Michigan.

[Note: The following letters are from the collection of Greg Herr and were offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Letter 1

Eagle Hill, Virginia
Monday, November 4th 1861

Dear Cousin Emma,

It was with great pleasure that I received and read your welcome favor of the 27th ult. and I will attempt to answer the same although I do not think of much to write this morning. Everything goes on about as usual here. Nothing new turning up to interest or excite a person.

The weather is fine this morning and so it was yesterday but the day before was about the worst day I ever saw in my life. It rained and blew all day like a perfect hurricane. I did not get out my tent but once all day and that was to get wood to burn. There was a good many of th tents blew down and tore to pieces and I expected that every moment we should be without a shelter to cover our heads, but our old tents stood the test nobly. We are to have new tents soon. we expect to get them now every day. I understand that we are to get small tents for four or six persons. I hope we shall for it would be a great deal more comfortable than to have large tents with sixteen in them. When we get the new ones, we have got new bed ticks to put into them. They will not let us put them into these old ones and we do not want to for they would get spoilt before we get the new ones.

There is a good many things that looks as if we were going to quarter here for the winter but I do not know what may turn up or what we shall do, anything about it, ad I have given up guessing, or trying to.

I am glad to hear that the singing school is going on finely. I hope that it will continue to prosper. I hope that all of the folks there will take hold and have a good school there this winter. I will help pay a god teacher. I cannot be there probably but will do my share for the sake of keeping up a school there this winter. There was a movement among a few of us yesterday to start one here in camp. There is a man by the name of Mead in George’s company that has taught singing school a good deal and is a good singer. He says he will take hold and we will get a lot of books—some glee books or some kind, and I believe that we can have a good singing school. We shall have to dispense with the ladies company to be sure, but they never do help a great deal you know, and I guess we can get along without them if we try to.

You must write often to me, Emma, and I will be sure to do the same. I had to make a bonfire of my letters yesterday. I had over a hundred and could not keep them so I had to burn them up. I hated to do it but it could not be helped. Give my love to all the friends and be sure, I remain forever, affectionately, your cousin, — Ed

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Letter 2

In Camp before Yorktown
Wednesday, April 23rd 1862

Dear Cousin Em,

Yours of the 13th ult. is just received and I thank you for it even if it a short one. I have had no letters for a long time until yours today. I do not know without my friends are forgetting me. What is the reason. But that cannot be the cause. It is true that I am a good distance from home, but still it cannot be that I am forgotten for I do not forget my friends who are so far away. But they are often present to my mind and whether lying in my tent, or whether on picket guard before and in sight of the enemy, wherever I am, my mind reverts to home and friends and the pleasing associations that my memory connects therewith. And I am unwilling to believe that I am not often in the thoughts of those dear to me. I hope that they will all prove that they think of me by writing often good long letters which do much to encourage ad lighten the dreary life of the soldier in the field.

I do not like to write very often and do not write as many letters lately as I would like to because I am out of postage money and even if I had the money, it would be impossible to procure the stamps. And I dislike to write for my friends to pay the postage but I feel as if I must write occasionally to let the friends know of my welfare. So please excuse this for this time and I hope to be able to do better when I want to write the next time.

My health still remains excellent. All of the Leighton Boys are well with the exception of George Joslin who is in the hospital. He went there about one week ago. Mr. Paine told me this morning that he saw George yesterday and he was much better and would probably be able to return to the regiment in the course of a few days. I hope he will for it is somewhat lonesome without him here. I mention his being sick as his folks not getting letters as usual from him would be more uneasy than if they knew the truth, but I assure them that he is not dangerously ill and hope they will not be troubled upon his account.

The weather is splendid for the most part although for two or three days it has been quite rainy but today it is beautiful. Last Sunday night we were ordered to be ready to go on picket the next morning at 4 o’clock. So at the time, we started through the dark and a drizzly rain. We got to the line and posted about daylight. Our company was just back of the line in the woods while we threw out three men in front of us behind a fence just in the edge of the woods. The morning was so foggy that we could obtain but an imperfect view of Rebeldom, but as the fog cleared off, we saw them in plain view. There being a fort a little to our left, we could distinguish no guns on their walls although there were embrasures for them and piles of sand bags to protect their gunners. There were no troops to be seen around them except a scattering squad here and there, but I doubt not that they have men there or near at hand but they are afraid to show themselves for we keep a battery of artillery along the line that play “the deuce” with them whenever htey venture to show themselves in any considerable numbers.

Our artillery “spoke” to them occasionally through the day. Some of our shells scattered their sand bags in all directions but go no answer at all. To the right of their fort and along in front of us was a field of some 80 rods [440 yards] wide and on the other side of it was woods along the edge of which their pickets were posted, and right in frint of us within easy rifle shot was an embankment thrown up that looked as if they had begun to build a fort and had not time to complete it before the “Yankees” came upon them. They now use it to protect their pickets and there seemed to be quite a number of them behind it from the smoke which came from it. But they were very careful to show themselves up in sight. There was one fellow that I noticed particularly as he would show himself above the works to the waist. He had on an old black hat and white or grey coat, I actually believe that he was a “Nigger.” He would crawl along until he got a good chance when he would “pop away” in our direction several times through the day. His bullets flew through the trees above our heads. We are not allowed to fire a shot and I never before had any inclination to shoot at pickets but I did ache to send him the contents of my rifle. I could hardly contain myself. I do not know as I could have hit him but I believe I could have given them a pretty good “scare.” At all events, I should liked to have tried some of them on.

Here in the woods where we are, we would not think that much is being done to ensure the success of the siege and a person has to look sharp to see what is being done. But I have seen enough to satisfy me that the thing is being rapidly pushed forward. Everyone here has the utmost faith in Gen. McClellan and believe him to be the one to lead on to certain victory. I am sure that he will do it.

There is continually the boom of cannon to be heard more or less at all hours of the day and night. It is probably done to prevent the “Secesh” from working on their defenses and often the sharp crack of a rifle of the sharpshooter in front is to be heard, which is almost a sure sign that one more rebel is defunct. By the way, these same Berden’s Sharpshooters are a terrible “eyesore” to these doers of iniquity and and it is very seldom that they venture to expose their precious persons to the range of one of those telescopic rifles.

Remember me to all of the friends. Write often and as ever, I remain your affectionate cousin, — Ed