The following letter was written by Michael W. Kirby (1836-1863) of Cottonville, Jackson county, Iowa, who enlisted at the age of 27 on 6 August 1862 in Co. I, 31st Iowa Infantry. He died on 6 February 1863 at Young’s Point, Louisiana. Family tradition has it he died in battle but military records reveal that he died of disease though he likely participated in the three day battle of Chickasaw Bluffs near Vicksburg in late December 1862.

Michael wrote the letter to his wife, Juliette (Lindsey) Kirby (1843-1921). The couple were married on 30 May 1860 in Jackson County, Iowa, when she was but 16 years old. They were both natives of Pennsylvania.

Michael wrote this letter from the steamer that was transporting them down the Mississippi river to Helena, Arkansas, where they went into camp on November 20th, 1862. Another soldier in the 31st Iowa, Milton S. Wade of Co. F, wrote of the same journey in a letter to a friend, “We stopped at St. Louis on our way down and for 3 days we saw Benton [Barracks]. We were about 2 weeks coming from St. Louis. We got fast on those sand banks below the Ohio river. The farther we get down river, the smaller the river is. There is lots of troops coming down the river every day.” [Source: Milton Weed to Owen W. Nims.]  Though neither Michael or Milton mention the name of the steamer they were on, I found a notice in the Daily Democrat (Davenport) of 19 November 1862 that reported them on the steamer Continental with “625 tons of government freight.” The steamer’s captain was O’Neal.

Though he did not die in battle, Michael expressed the same patriotic sentiments that motivated many young men from both the North and the South to enlist: “We must expect to see hard times before we get back. I don’t care how much we have to endure if we only secure our liberty—if not for us, for those that are left at home and for the generations that may come after us. May the blessings of God attend our army.”

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

[Steamer Continental]
November 10, 1862

Dear Wife,

I take this time to let you know that I am well at the present time and hope these lies [lines] will find you all in good health. We started from St. Louis at night about 9 o’clock. We went three miles and run on a sand bar. Here we stayed trying to get off of it till the next day. And then, when we got off, went on awhile [and] struck again. We got off, then went on till 9 o’clock at night, then we struck again and have been trying to get off. We now are getting off. It is about 3 o’clock in the afternoon that I am writing. We are moving now.

The boat is loaded too heavy with freight. It is the largest one in the river. There is about 1200 soldiers on it, about 200 head of cattle and 50 horses, a very large amount of government grain, meat and hay, oats, and potatoes and other goods for the army.

I will tell you about the sick in the regiment. We left in Camp Herron four of our boys. One of our company in St. Louis—William Whitman—he had the measles. There was 31 of the regiment let at St. Louis sick with the measles. There is about 40 sick on the boat now. We are not over 40 miles from St. Louis now. I hope we will get better after this.

We [have] very poor accommodations on the boat. We live more like hogs than anything else. Our meat was poor. We now have three crackers and coffee but this is not if everything else was right but we must expect to see hard times before we get back. I don’t care how much we have to endure if we only secure our liberty—if not for us, for those that are left at home and for the generations that may come after us. May the blessings of God attend our army.

We have been very lucky with our regiment so far. There has not been one lost yet & in some of the other regiments there has been a good many killed by accidents and carelessness. Some have got into a fight with the boat hands. I have heard of about fifty that have been killed. There was 12 killed below here last week by the rebels. They shot from the shore [and] killed 12 of our men. This was a boat last week blowed up. The boiler bursted and killed some soldiers. I don’t know how many. So there is danger everywhere. I hope we will get along safe.

The sick that was left behind may be glad they did not come now for they will have a better chance to when there is not so many on the boat. I think I have wrote all that I think of now. The boat shakes no that it is hard for me to write. I am sitting on a pile of grain writing. We are going on now middling fast.

Dear friend, I think of home and friends but that is all the good it will do for the present. Most of us may not get back but it is hard to tell. God knows best. We expect to be in a battle before long, I will write as soon as we land where we are. Destined for Mrs. Juliette Kirby

From M. W. Kirby