The following letter was written by Henry Basye (1835-1916), the son of William Falcon Basye (1790-1846) and Harriet Caroline Deshields (1801-1860) of Northumberland county, Virginia. Henry was married in December 1859 to Annie Ball Harding (1840-1915) and the couple were enumerated in the household of Annie’s father, Washington William Harding, who had a farm near Lottsburg, Virginia.
Henry enlisted in April 1861 as private in Co. D, 9th Virginia Cavalry. After a year’s service, he accepted a bounty of $50 to reenlist for three more years. Muster rolls suggest he was present for duty most of the time he was in the service except for the spring of 1864 when he was absent on sick leave and without leave. In this letter, dated early September 1863, he writes considerably about his desire to obtain a furlough to return home but informs his wife that his horse is too lame to make the trip. His muster rolls inform us that he was finally detailed to go home “to get a horse” in late October 1863.
Henry’s letter was datelined from Culpeper, Virginia, where the men and horses were recruiting from their long campaign into Pennsylvania and back. Referring to the Gettysburg Campaign, Henry wrote: “Annie, you say if we were not whipped in Pennsylvania, we did not make [achieve] anything by going over there, but we done them so bad that they would not attack us when we waited for them three days at Hagerstown. Meade has tried to get them to come over here, but he can’t get them to come over. They say they won’t come over here to be murdered, so you may know that a burnt child dreads the fire.”
Considerable information may be found on-line about Henry Basye and his farm at Cherry Point near Lottsburg, Virginia, in the publication, “The Confederate Philatelist,” Vol. 65, No. 3. It was written by Patricia A. Kaufmann in 2020. See Jenkins Express—A New Listing.
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[Culpeper, Virginia]
September 4th [1863]
Dear Annie, I expected to have been home this week but owing to my detail being sent in too late for this time, can’t come. Gus Betts and myself both were to come home together, but our details were disapproved, but we will come the next time I think. I don’t expect to come home before the 15th of October, if then. Our boys ought to have been here last Monday but they are not here yet. That is the reason that we can’t get off no sooner We have got to wait until they come and then wait until the details that were in ahead of us go and come back. They have 20 days so you may judge how long it will be before I can come home. I tell you, I am very sorry that I can’t come home, but [even] if my detail had been in time, I don’t think I could come home now. [My horse] Kate is very lame at this time. I would have to wait until she gets well. She is getting a great deal better than she was a few days ago. We are getting good feed for our horses. We are getting green corn and old corn and hay. Kate is thriving every day. I hope by the time my detail cones in, she will be well, and then I can come home in double quick time.
Everything is quiet up here at this time but I am afraid this is a calm which precedes a great storm. We are in Culpeper yet. Our pickets and the Yankee pickets are in the same field. They talk to each other everyday, exchange papers, trade tobacco for sugar and coffee, and so on.
Annie, I got the letter you sent by Captain Cox. It reads like you would like to see me. I am very sorry that you were disappointed. You must not look for me until you see me. I am looking for our boys to come in every day and I expect to send this letter by one of the detail that is now waiting to go down I am afraid you will not send me a letter by Dick. You say you want my likeness. Well, if the man that takes ambrotypes comes from Orange Court House before we leave here, you shall certainly have it. I have been waiting for him a long time.
Annie, when you write to me, let me know what your Pa has done with his colt and let me know how your colt is coming on. Let me know if Pa has put Isabella to a horse or not. If he has not, he ought to have done so. But he knows best.
Annie, Captain [John F.] Hughlett got a letter from William [J.] Middleton the other day. He was taken prisoner at Hagerstown, Maryland. He said in his letter that he was in Baltimore. He also said that Ben Sanze was there and several others that belonged to the 40th Regiment that was taken the same time that he was. He did not say a word about him. I can’t find out whether be was killed or taken prisoner. He was numbered with the prisoners but I have not heard a word from him. I reckon Missy and Ma are very uneasy about him. 1 Bill says he is doing very well in Baltimore.
Annie, I could have sent & letter to your sister Lucy last week by the Yankees but we don’t talk to them now. The 7th Virginia Regiment went down on picket the other night and took every one of the Yankee pickets [prisoners]. It made General [J. E. B.] Stuart very mad. He won’t let us talk to them now for he wants them to come over the river. If they will come, he is waiting for them.
Annie, you say you have lots of news to tell me when I come home. I want you to write it to me. I am looking every day for Joe and Everett to come up. I would be glad to see them, but I tell you, this is a bad old place to come to. But I hope they may not see as hard a time as we have seen. If they do, they will smart worse than a dog in a mole hole. Annie, some of the 15th have got details and haven’t got but ten days. I don’t expect to get but ten days if I get any but I will come on a 2 days detail.
The Richmond Enquirer states that Thomas Redman died in New York the other day. I am very sorry to hear it. Annie, you say if we were not whipped in Pennsylvania, we did not make anything by going over there, but we done them so bad that they would not attack us when we waited for them three days at Hagerstown. Meade has tried to get them to come over here, but he can’t get them to come over. They say they won’t come over here to be murdered, so you may know that a burnt child dreads the fire.
Annie, when I come home, I will tell you all about the fight over there—[all] that I know about it. Give my love and respects to the rest of the family. Give my love to Ma [ ] and to sister Betsy’s family. Tell me all about everybody and everything else… Annie, you don’t know how glad I would be to see my little children. When you write, you never say a word about them. Who do they look Like? I want you to tell me who Stonewall looks like. I know who Novella looks like. She looks like her father. Joe Moone says Stonewall is a fine looking boy. I would like to see him.
I would like so much to come hone about this time to get some watermelons, peaches, fish, and several other things too numerous to mention. There is no fruit up here nor anything else except (I don’t know that I have a right to partake of the “except”). Annie, our boys details have come. They haven’t got but fifteen days. That is five more than the 15th got. I am going to send in for twenty-five days and maybe I will get twenty, That is little enough for a man to have that has to go from here to the Northern Neck. It will take three days to come home and six to go back. Our boys will start home this morning as their details have come but the others have not come. Goodbye. God bless you. I hope to see you before long. Your affectionate husband, — Henry Basye
1 I believe this is a reference to Henry’s younger brother, Louis Octavous Basye (1838-1895) who served as a private in Co. F, 40th Virginia Infantry and rose to the rank of 3rd Sergeant. He was captured at Falling Waters, Md., July 14, 1863, during the retreat from the Battle of Gettysburg when Lee’s men could not cross the Potomac due to rain-swollen rivers and the loss of a pontoon bridge at nearby Falling Waters to a Union cavalry raid. Octavous was exchanged at Baltimore on March 3, 1864.
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