1864: Henry Russell to “Dear Abbie”

The following letters were written by Henry Russell (1843-1891), the son of Josiah G. Russell and Lucinda Cobb of Tioga county, New York. Henry enlisted on 1 November 1, 1861 at Binghamton to serve three years in the 16th New York Independent Battery but he was discharged for disability less than a year later on 12 August 1862 at Fairfax Seminary General Hospital. After regaining his health, Henry reenlisted on 4 January 1864 as a private in Co. E, 50th New York Engineers. He mustered out with his company on 13 June 1865, at Fort Barry, Va.

Henry wrote all of the letter to his “Dear Abbie”—Abigail Saphrona Skinner (1848-1921). They were married in 1865 when Henry returned from the service.

*All three of Henry’s letters were written on patriotic stationery with printed poems or songs, including “The Battle of Antietam,” “Lady Love,” and “The Dying Soldier Boy.”*

Letter 1

Camp near Petersburg
November 15, 1864

Dear Abbie,

I will try and write a few lines this morning although it is pretty cold. I don’t know but my fingers will get so cold that I can’t write but I will write what I can. I am well and I sincerely hope these few lines will find you the same.

It is a long time since I have heard from you. Have you forgotten your soldier? No, I do not believe you have. I wrote a letter to you some time agoand have not had any answer from it and I made up my mind that I would not wait any longer but would write the first opportunity. It is so cold I do not know whether there is going to be drill or not. Well, I must stop and warm my fingers.

The boys are building winter quarters. I do not think we shall have much more marching this fall. It is getting too cold. I was on guard last night and it was pretty cold. I did not get a chance to sleep a bit. The night before I was on guard, my tent mate was on guard and I did not sleep much that night because he had to take one of the blankets and it was pretty cold and I did not try to sleep that night and the next night I was on guard and there was two nights that I did not sleep. But last night I made it all up. I slept ten knots an hour. Did I not do well? I slept so sound that I did not hear the drum this morning for roll call but that did not make any difference to me. The Lieutenant sent for me and another fellow that did not get up to roll call. The Lieutenant wanted to know the reason why I was not up. I told him the reason. Well, he said, that was no excuse. I asked him what made him send for us and why he did not send for some other that did not get up to roll call. He told me to go to my tent and here I am writing. The other fellow is at work for punishment. It is the first time that I ever missed roll call.

Well, I guess I will stop writing for I can’t think of anything to write so I will close. Write often. I will try and write something of more importance next time but if you are as I am, you do not care whether the letters are of any importance or not as long as they are from one that is as dear as you are to me. Well, this is all. From your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell

Letter 2

Camp near Petersburg
November 25, 1864

Dear Abbie,

I will try and write a few lines to you to let you know that I am still alive & well and I hope these few lines will find you the same. Well, now, I will try and tell you what has happened since I received your last letter. I received your last letter the 18th after dark. The next morning it rained and we were ordered to pack up so we packed up and marched in the rain about three miles. It was almost cold enough to freeze and we were wet through but at it we went and put up our shelter tents and made a fire in front of it and got pretty well dried before night. I and my tent mate got some rails to sleep on. We got some pine boughs and spread them on the rails and then we spread our overcoats on them and sleep on them. It rained all day. At night I was on guard. It rained very hard all the time that I was on. The next day it cleared off but the wind blew cold. Well, I will not [tell] all that happened, only it has been cold weather and we had suffered a good deal from cold.

I had got this letter dated the 25th but it is the 26th. I started to write this yesterday morning and the Orderly Sergeant came and told me if I wanted to go to a Thanksgiving dinner to put on my overcoat and go and get in the ambulance. Well, we had a ride of about 12 miles and had a good dinner. There was three of us out of our company. We went to the hospital where I was last summer. The doctor sent for three men out of each company—those that had been sick. Well, I will tell you what we had to eat. We had oysters, potatoes, biscuits and butter, roast turkey, chicken, mince pie, pudding, apple sauce, and a number of other things. It was a good dinner. While I was eating it, I wished the rest of the boys could all have as good a dinner but they are just as well off today. It is very pleasant and warm today.

We have got a boat train now and we expect to go on a raid in a few days and this may be the last letter that you will ever have from me. This going on raids is dangerous business, We have got the canvas boats. They are light and we can go fast with them. We have been out drilling this morning.

A canvas boat used by the 50th New York Engineers,

Well, I shall have to stop writing for I do not think you can read what I have wrote. I got a letter from Stella day before yesterday. Well, there is nothing more to write. I will write as often as I can if we go on the raid but I hope we shall not have to go. I hope that it will be the last move we will make this fall. You do not know how the soldiers have to suffer with the cold. Well, this sheet is nearly full so dear Abbie, goodbye. It may be for the last time. This from your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell

Letter 3

*Camp of the 50th New York Engineers in front of Petersburg, Va, in the winter of 1864-65. Notice the canvas pontoon boats parked at left (No. 14).*

Camp near Petersburg
December 4, 1864

Dear Abbie,

I received your kind and welcome letter last night and was very glad to hear from you. I am well. My health was never better that it is now. I never was any fleshier that I am now and I still keep gaining.

I wrote a letter to you day before yesterday to you so I have not got much news to write but I will tell you what I have been doing since then. Day before yesterday we built a yard for our beef cattle and yesterday I went out in the woods to get cut timber for the Captain’s house and for our own houses. I have got a good house but I have got to tear it down and make them all alike. A good many of the boys have got good houses built but they has got to tear them all down and build them over again.

Well, I have not told you what we have been doing today. It is Sunday today and we had an inspection of arms and I have been to meeting today and five o’clock we have got to go out on dress parade and that will use up the day.

You wanted to know what they done to me for not being out at roll call. Well, they did not do anything with me. Last night one of our sergeants did not get out at roll call. I do not know what they will do with him but I guess not anything.

You say do not enlist. Well, I will not. I have no intention of it. It would take more than 18 or 20 hundred dollars to get me to enlist so you need not worry about that. If I get out of this alright, I think that will do, don’t you? Yes, I know you do.

It is a very pleasant day. It did not rain as I expected it would when I wrote to you. When I get my house built, I shall have more time to write, I guess, if we do not have to drill all the time. Well, if we have to drill, I can write evenings for I am going to have a table and I am going to try and have things halfway decent.

Well, I wonder what time it is. It must be about half past two, I think. I sold my watch just before I began to write this letter. I can’t keep a watch here more than three days. If I get a good watch, someone will come along and ask me what I will take for it. I tell them that I do not want to sell it. Well, what will you take for it? I will tell them when they will haul out the money and hand it to me.

Well, I must close. I have got to write two letters more today. I expect a letter from home every day now. Well, dearest and best [friend], I must close. I wish I could tell you my feelings toward you. If you knew, then you never would regret the step you have taken. I know we will meet again. Well, this is all from your faithful, — Henry