The following letter was written by George Darrah (1819-1903) of Cadyville, Clinton county, New York. George was born in Canada but came to the United States in 1833 and married Elizabeth Ann Stackpole (1822-1890). Their oldest children, George Darrah, Jr. (1840-1922), and Frederick Darrah (1842-1864) are the principal subjects of this letter, both of them having served as Union soldiers.

George Darrah, Jr. was working as teamster in Plattsburgh, New York, when he was drafted into Co. H, 83rd New York Infantry. He was wounded—as described in the letter—near the beginning of Grant’s Overland Campaign and was never able to return to his regiment but after regaining some use of his arm, he was transferred into the Veteran’s Reserve Corps to complete his term of service.

Frederick Darrah was working as a teamster in Plattsburgh when he enlisted in September 1864 as a private in 2nd New York Veteran Cavalry. He died of chronic diarrhea at Morganza, Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana.

George wrote the letter to his brother John W. Darrah (1818-1900), the husband of Eliza Finch (1825-1906). They were residents of Williamstown, Dodge county, Wisconsin, at the time. Their oldest son, Wallace William Darrah (1845-1864) also served in the Union army. Wallace served as a corporal in Co. B, 10th Wisconsin Infantry, but was wounded and taken prisoner at the Battle of Chickamauga in September 1863. He died in mid-January 1864 while in prison at Danville, Virginia. We learn from this letter that their second oldest son, Charles Darrah (1847-Bef1865) also died but must have been at home and not in the service.

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

Cadyville [Clinton county, New York]
March 19th 1865

Mr. John Darrah, dear brother

I will write a few lines to you to let you know that there is still such a man a living as George Darrah, but it seems to me as though you have forgotten me. But I hope I shall see you again if it’s God’s will. This letter leaves all of us well at present and hoping they will find you enjoying the same blessings. I say all but there is a separation in my family as well as in yours. This cruel war has made almost every house in our land a house of mourning and bereavement excepting some of Big Popular Black-hearted thieves. I was informed of the death of [your sons] Wallis and Charley, but poor Wallis did not have his father and his mother to soothe him in his last of his troubles. We always had letters from him while he was in the service until he was taken prisoner. He sent his photograph and we have got it yet. I suppose he suffered a thousand deaths before he died. There is some Boys here that has been prisoners and they look like death when they get away.

I will tell you about my boys. One year ago last July George was drafted and was taken down to Virginia and was but right front in speaking distance of Mr. Rebs and he skirmished with them until the 1st of last May when Grant made his flank move for Richmond. He was in the battle for ten days. He says that one time there was so many balls struck his knapsack that it cut it to pieces so that all of his things fell out and none of the balls hit his body until he was marching forward when up jumped a Rebel a few feet forward of him and fired at him as he was loading his gun and the ball passed through his left arm below his elbow, stoving one of the bones all to pieces and cut off all of the cords of is arm and he bled almost to death before he got it done up. He got a furlough to come home for thirty days and then he went back, remained in the hospital until election when he came home again. His arm has got so he can use it some now. He is doing picket duty now on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad near Washington. He was fat and rugged when he was at home last fall in November and he says he is well now. When the Rebel fired at him he [the Rebel] started to run but George’s comrade plunked him in the head.

Now I will tell you about poor Frederick. Last September there [was] no talk of enlistments or [of] being drafted so he made up his mind he would go for one year. I said all I could to him not to go but he said he was sure he would be drafted and go he should for one year. He went from New York to New Orleans and from there to Morganza up the Mississippi River 180 miles above New Orleans and was taken sick with the rheaumatics and chronic diarrhea and on the 23rd day of last January he bid adieu to all of his friends. He had a number of them with him from home and that is the only consolation I have about him. They nursed him day and night to save him but all in vain. His time had come and he had to go. He told his Uncle Joseph Robberts and James Norcross that watched with him the day before he died that he could not live. He had his senses to the last. He said he could see the angels waiting for him. About his last words was he told his uncle to tell all of his friends that he died happy and longed to see the time come when his sufferings would be over. Poor fellow. How many times he must though of my parting words with him but alas, it was too late. He went a long road to meet his death. He lays on the banks of the Mississippi—no friend to view his place of burial. He was a good and smart young man as you would see walking the road. I am sad with his loss. God knows how many more like him will have to go before this cruel and cursed war is over.

All the brothers and sisters here is smart. Lester and Guinup lives out in Franklin county and Mother is with Lester. I had a letter a few days ago from them. They was well at that time. I should be happy to get a letter from you. I got one from Levi Darrah [Co. F, 44th Wisconsin] a short time ago. He was in Nashville, Tennessee, then. I wrote an answer immediately. I had a great many letters from William’s George until lately I have not had any. I would be very happy to know if he is living. If you will answer this, I will write you again and tell you all that is going on here. Elizabeth sends her love to Eliza and a part to yourself. Write and let me know how you get along. So I must close for it is 11 o’clock and go to bed. So good night. — George Darrah

I wish you much joy with your little son and hope when he gets grown up that he will not be destroyed by a cursed negro war.

Eliza Hurlbert, please forward this to brother John Darrah.