I could not find an image of Bradley but here is a cdv of an unidentified New Hampshire soldier photographed by A. W. Kimball of Manchester, N. H. (Dave Morin Collection)
Bradford A. Hurd (1832-1863) of Somersworth, New Hampshire was a 25 year-old shoemaker when he volunteered on 2 September 1861 as a private in Co. B, 4th New Hampshire Infantry. Just six months earlier he had married Carrie F. Bailey. His parents were James Hurd (1796-1876) and Abigail Wadilla (1798-1848) of Sanford, York county, Maine.
Bradford died at a hospital on 21 June 1863 from wounds to his leg and ankle caused by a shell on the night of 17 June 1863 while on fatigue duty at the upper point of Folly Island, South Carolina. Bradford’s commanding officer, Lt. Fred Kendell, claimed that the fatigue party was in the process of preparing the ground to erect batteries for the purpose of shelling Morris Island when the enemy noticed the activity and fired at them, mortally wounding Bradford. He was carried back to camp and his leg was amputated in the regimental hospital but they were unable to save him.
Some of Bradford’s war correspondence is reportedly housed in the Georgia Historical Society of Savannah.
Bradford wrote this letter to his younger brother, Luther J. Hurd (1842-1881).
Bombardment & Capture of Forts Walker & Beauregard, Port Royal, S. C., Nov. 7, 1861.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Hilton Head, South Carolina December 2, 1861
Dear Brother,
I received your very kind letter last night, December 1st, and was very glad to hear from you once more. You don’t know how much pleasure it gives me to hear from home much more than it would if I was at Great Falls. The reason is I cannot get so much as a paper to read here and when I get a letter from a friend, it is a good treat to me. Besides that, I love to get letters from anyone.
We arrived here on the 7th of last month and had a battle with the rebels which lasted six hours and we whipped them badly and made them run. [See Battle of Port Royal] We took everything they had consisting in cotton, corn, guns, rice, cannons, cloth, and two forts. We took more than five hundred thousand dollars from the, We took thirty pieces of cannon, oranges, pineapples, sweet potatoes, peanuts, and everything almost you can mention of which we are feasting on.
We had a hard time coming here on board the boat [USS Baltic]. We was in a gale 18 days before we arrived here. Three days would have been long enough to come here had the wind been fair and we was without much food for ten days. No one can tell the scene but those that passed through it. Nay, I never see another such a time. I have not space to tell you all the details on this sheet of paper. Luther, how would you like that? But after all the hardships that I have passed through, I do not feel anything like giving it up. I am willing to do anything to save my country from ruin.
You said perhaps I was not more than two hundred miles from George. If he is at home, I am not more than fifty from him. You said you wanted me to send you something and if I can, I will send you a box of oranges and pineapples. Perhaps you will not want to hear from me very often for you will have to pay the postage on the letters for they will not take three cents and I can’t get any stamps. But if I live to get home, I will pay you. So Luther, be a good boy and write to me as often as you can. Give [my] love to Laura and the rest and I will write to them all soon as I can. — Bradford Hurd
This letter was written by William H. Dorsey (1819-1854), the oldest son of Richard Brooke Dorsey (1791-1869) and Anna Elizabeth Dorsey (1800-1884) of Elk Ridge Landing, Anne Arundel county, Maryland. By 1850, Richard and Anna had relocated to Baltimore where Richard was a merchant. William was yet unmarried and living with his parents in Baltimore at that time. It is presumed that William was named after his paternal grandfather, William Hammond Dorsey. The Dorsey family were slaveholders in the 1850s and the content of the following letter gives us some notion as to their opinion of Yankees and societal preferences.
I could not find a biographical sketch for William H. Dorsey but one ancestral record indicates that he was married on 21 December 1848 to Arabella Arthur (1828-1866) of Clay county, Missouri and that he died in New York City in August 1854. Arabella was the daughter of Michael Arthur (1800-1884) and Amanda Melvina Martin (1804-1889) who came to Clay county, Missouri, from Barren county, Kentucky in the late 1820s. Arabella’s father operated the first hemp factory in Clay county and he became a very wealthy businessman and real estate developer in Liberty. He operated a general store on the southwest corner of Water St. and Kansas St., and also was the proprietor of the Arthur House Hotel. Arabella died in Liberty, Missouri, in 1866 after a protracted illness of Consumption (tuberculosis). This record is probably accurate because there is nothing more in the family’s ancestral records despite a lot of detail regarding William’s siblings, one of whom—Richard Brooks Dorsey, Jr.—served in Co. H, 1st Maryland (Confederate) Infantry during the Civil War.
The post script of this letter suggests that William was engaged in some mercantile venture in St. Louis.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Liberty [Missouri] October 29, 1842
Dear Mother,
I wrote on the first of the month from St. Louis giving a sketch of my trip up to that time. I remained there 3 weeks and was most disappointed in not receiving a letter from you. The last and only one I have received was in Louisville.
I started from St. Louis about a week ago and have only progressed this far on my journey west. The [Missouri] river is extremely low rendering it both dangerous and difficult for steamboat navigation. We were 4 days in getting to Chariton, half the time sticking fast on the sand bars and the balance creeping along through the snags which in some places are so thick as to resemble a perfect forest—hundreds of them in sight at once besides a great many below the surface. We had, however, quite an agreeable time notwithstanding our slow traveling. The boat would sometimes be aground for 5 or 6 hours at a time when we would take a gun and go ashore amusing ourselves—until she got off again—by shooting. Along the whole river is the greatest quantity of game, deer, wild turkeys, pheasants, partridges, & prairie hens by thousands on land, and millions of greenbacks on the river. We had fine sport and kept the table well supplied with game.
At Chariton the navigation became too uncertain [so] we left the boat and now travel by land up the northern side of the river, Today I go still farther west to Fort Leavenworth and a short distance up in the Indian country. I regret very much that I have an engagement in St. Louis on the 8th and shall be obliged to return by that time. If it were not for this, I should take a 2 or 3 weeks trip up the Missouri into the Indian country. From the Fort I return through Westport to Independence and from there take the stop for St. Louis. I think it is very probable I shall have to make another trip up here before my return to Baltimore. I shall certainly be up as high as Booneville next month.
From the 200 miles down the river north, south and west to the state boundaries is one of the finest country on the face of the earth. You can form no idea of it unless you could see it. Eastern folks generally have formed a very improper conception of this state. It is far, far ahead of Ohio, Indiana, or Illinois in every respect either for beauty of scenery, fine streams, fertility of soil or society there is no comparison. The scenery in many places is lovely beyond description. There is every variety of it. You can have either a boundless prairie extending 40 or 50 [miles] without a tier and as level as the floor with soil from 25 to 30 feet deep, or a forest of trees twice as large as any you ever saw, or you can have a beautiful rolling prairie, one hill swelling above another for hundreds of miles, intersected here and there by skirts of timber just enough to add to the variety of the scene. Were I to move to the West, I should not think of stopping short of this and would probably go still further west to the Platte county over which we pass today.
The emigrants to this state are of the better class—principally Virginia and Kentuckians. Very few foreigners or close-fisted Yankees—another great advantage of the states south of the Ohio. But I must close. I don’t know whether you will be able to read this. I have sprained my thumb and can’t bend it. Write me at St. Louis. I will write you again on my return then if not before. Yours &c. — W. H. Dorsey
I sent you several days ago a newspaper containing the advertisement of a sale I was going to have on the 8th of next month. Goods taken for debt.
This letter was written by James Madison Campbell (1840-1891) of Selma, Liberty Township, Delaware county, Indiana. His parents were Samuel Graham Campbell (1797-1873) and Elisabeth Goings (1804-1882). He wrote the letters to his older sister, Jane Campbell (1835-1906). James enlisted as a musician in Co. K, 19th Indiana Infantry on 29 July 1861. He mustered out as a corporal on 28 July 1864 after three years service. The 19th Indiana was, of course, part of the famed Iron Brigade or “Black Hat” Brigade during the Civil War.
Serving with him in the same company was his older brother, William Harrison Campbell (1838-1912), who also wrote several letters home. They can be found at—1861-62: William Harrison Campbell to Jane Campbell.
Some of the boys of Co. K, 19th Indiana Infantry after the Battle of Antietam
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Fort Baker, Virginia September 22, 1861
Dear Sister,
I received yours of the fifteenth instant and was sorry to hear that you was so uneasy about Will and I. Will got here last Tuesday week and on Wednesday following he went out with us to the fight but unfortunately we were too late by about two minutes to get into the fight for it was over before we got there though there were several shots fired from the cannon after we got on the ground where they were fighting.
A word of explantation with regard to the fight. In the morning there was five companies of our regiment went to the town of Lewinsville in company with the 3rd Vermont on a kind of scouting expedition and after they had finished their work and started back to the camp and had not come but a short distance when the Rebels opened fire on them from the brush and thickets where they were concealed. Our men immediately returned the fire and fired several rounds but to little effect, when there was a brass 32-pounder brought on the field and opened fire on the Rebels and the first shot struck one of the caissons and knocked it off the wheels and killed nine men. They fired twice at the artillery, then turned it and fired in another direction at a cavalry company and made great destruction among them.
The number of Rebels killed was about thirty and a great many wounded. Our loss was four killed and five wounded (some say seven). There was some firing last night among the pickets and we hear this morning that there was a Captain in the California Regiment killed 1 and four Rebels also. This is about all the fighting that has been here that I know of.
There is a great deal of sickness among the soldiers at present and been several deaths but there has been no deaths in Co. K but several sick and not dangerous. Capt. Williams is getting better. Ben Harter is about well again. Will Orr is better. Crack East is well. James Goings is better. Brother Will is well and I am as stout and hearty as a buck and can jump twice as far, I expect. Our boys are all getting better. You need not be uneasy about us for we are as safe here as if we were at home. No more at present, — J. M. Campbell
Tell Marthy Black if she wants to kiss me, I will give her an opportunity when I come back.
1 Capt. James W. Lingenfelter (1836-1861) of Co. B, 1st California Regiment was killed in the skirmish near Lewinsville, Fairfax county, Virginia, on 21 September 1861. At the time of his death, Cap. Lingenfelter was in command of a scouting party, when finding himself surrounded by a body of rebels, and scorning to retreat, he was shot in the head and immediately killed.
I could not find an image of Asa but here is one of John D. M. VanVleet, of Co. H, 107th New York Infantry (AI generated from tintype)
Asa Brownell (1833-1918) was 29 years old when he enlisted on 28 July 1862 at Addison to serve three years in Co. F, 107th New York Infantry (the “Campbell Guards”). He mustered in as a corporal. During the Battle of Antietam when the 107th New York advanced with Mansfield’s 12th Corps through Miller’s Cornfield mid-morning, Asa received a gunshot wound and was sent to hospitals in New York City and Philadelphia to be treated before returning to the ranks in 1863. He mustered out as a corporal on 28 July 1865 at Elmira, N. Y. His military records suggest that he stood 5 feet 8 inches tall, had grey eyes, dark hair, and was a farmer by occupation.
In the 1860 US Census, Asa was enumerated in Woodhull, Steuben county, New York, in the residence of James Brownell (b. 1787) and his wife, Lois Bancroft (1794-1876). It isn’t clear whether these were his parents or grandparents.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp 107th N. Y. Vols Wartrace Creek, Tennessee November 11th 1863
Dear Sister,
It is with usual pleasure that I improve these leisure moments in writing a few lines to you. Yours of the 1st of November reached me in safety night before last and was heartily welcome as all your letters are. I was very glad to get some stamps for I had used the last one that I had and had been obliged to borrow some. Your letter found me well and this leaves me in the enjoyment of a good degree of health.
The last letter which I wrote you, I believe it was written at Fosterville at which place we stayed six days—just long enough to get some fireplaces in the board shanties which were already put up there, but Thursday morning we left our shanties and with our furniture, bedding, and provisions on back, started out into the world to seek us another home. But as good luck would have it, we did not have to go but about 8 miles and had it not been for the rain which fell all the time, it would not have been a bad trip. We travelled on the railroad all the way and got here a little after noon. There had been five companies of the 13th N. J. here and they had some poor excuses for board shanties which we stayed in until Saturday when we had orders to move camp in order to get on drier ground. And since that time, the most of the boys with the exception of a few who put up their board shanties again, have been busy getting up good log shanties. Mine is nearly finished now except the fireplace and I guess my tent mates will get that started today. I am on picket so that I cannot work at [it] myself.
You think we are beyond the reach of cold weather. It is not so although I presume it is not so cold here as it is in York State. Yet we ave some very cold nights here although the days are mostly warm. I am very much [ ] in the appearance of the Southern States. The people here seem to be at least fifty years behind in arts, science, literature, and everything that goes to make up an enlightened people. Occasionally one will find a person who has either been [born] and bred at the North or else received their education at some northern school and the class of people very different from those—especially the poorer class who have been born and bred at the South. But I see that I am getting my sheet full so I will close. Write often. From one who is proud to call you sister, — A. B.
Sixth-plate ambrotype of an enlisted man of 21st New York Infantry in 1861. The 21st New York Infantry, or 1st Buffalo regiment, was recruited in Buffalo, and was the outgrowth of the 74th NYSM. It was mustered into the US service May 20, 1861, at Elmira, for three months and left there for Washington on June 18, 1861. The uniforms acquired by the 21st NY were originally purchased for the 74th NYSM from A. & G. Arnoux, of New York, by the Buffalo City Council. As that militia regiment was not required for three months’ service in 1861, the City Council sold the uniforms to the State which in turn issued them to the Buffalo Regiment on May 21. A report in the Buffalo Daily Courier of June 5 stated, “The uniforms of the 21st are at least 25 per cent better in quality [than State clothing] and one hundred in color.” According to Brigadier General H.R. White, who visited the military camp near Elmira, at this time, the 21st New York wore a “neat and finely fitting gray uniform… It is the same style as the regular State uniform—jacket, cap and pants alike—but fits the men beautifully.” In his regimental history, J. Harrison Mills described the uniform as consisting of “a cap, jacket and pants of gray cloth, trimmed with black, and an overcoat of bluish black lined with red.” After escorting the Buffalo Regiment to the railroad depot on their departure for Washington, D.C., a man in the 27th New York remarked that they “looked well, and very neat in their gray uniforms.” When the 21st reached the Federal capital on June 19, it was reported to be wearing “dark gray jackets, pants, and cap, trimmed with black.” Written in pencil in the case is “From O.[liver] B.[enton] Evans Gallery, Buffalo.” (Ron Field Collection)
The following letter was written by Irish emigrant Myron W. Herbert (1833-1903) of Niagara county who served early in the war as a private in Co. E, 21st New York Infantry and later transferred to the U. S. Navy. According to his military file, 28 year-old Myron enlisted on 12 May 1861 and deserted on 13 July 1862. He was described as a 5′ 6″ tall, blue-eyed, brown-haired farmer.
In the pension application Myron filed in 1890 while living in Brockport, Monroe county, New York, he claimed that he had received a gunshot wound to the left ankle and over his left eye while with the 21st New York and was honorably discharged at Washington on 26 October 1862. He then claimed he served as a Landsman in the Navy aboard the Flag Ship Black Hawk and was discharged after two years at Mound City, Illinois. However, the pension was denied when a review of the rolls found no one by that name serving aboard the Black Hawk. Sadly, Myron died in the poor house in Niagara county in 1903.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Rogers [Upton’s Hill, Va.] October 21st 1861
Dear Mother,
Once more I sit down to pen a few lines to you fondly hoping that this letter will find you on better health than it leaves me. I have been in the hospital about two weeks but I am somewhat better now with the prospect of getting well. I was taken with the chills and fever but I think the doctor broke them too quick on me and set me into the dropsy on the liver. You would scarce believe what a change there has been in my looks in two weeks time. I was as fat and healthy as could be [and] now I am as poor as a crow. I can’t eat anything and can hardly walk around. But I am in hopes to be able to attend to my duty before long.
The doctor had orders to discharge all the soldiers that would be sick for some little time yet and the rest to send to Washington City to the General Hospital immediately so I think that the army will advance in a few days. I don’t know whether they will send me to Washington or not. If I am able to go with the regiment, I shall for I prefer going than to go to Washington. But it will depend entirely when they go. It is the opinion of a good many that we will go down the river and if we do, we will see some hot times.
The enemy has all left Fairfax and gone back, but how far it is not ascertained. They do that to draw our troops into Manassas Junction but probably McClellan knows what he is about—at least I think so.
I had a letter from James the other day. He was well. He said in his letter that he had just received a letter from home. Poor fellow. I wonder where he calls home. Perhaps it is where [ ] is beyond the grave. I had a letter from Thomas the other day. I see that he is one of the true soldiers. He is determined to see the glorious stars and stripes wave yet over a free country. May the God of Heaven protect him. But [what about] Hank? What shall I say in honor of his cause? Does he prefer to save himself and live under a rebel government? or does he wish to remain with his wife and let others fight for liberty for him? I did not know that there was one in our family that would turn their back on the flag that had always protected them. For shame on such men. I can pick out better men among the camp women that goes with the regiments than he is.
Well Mother, how do you get along and how does all the rest? I have not received any answer to Achsah’s letter yet and I do wish you would send me the Lockport papers. You could just as well as not. Well Mother, goodbye for this time. It is raining or I should sit out-of-doors for a while yet. I guess I will lay down a spell. Give my love to all kind friends and don’t forget to write. I am getting tired and must stop writing so goodbye and believe me. Your son yet, — Myron W. Herbert
I could not find an image of Fred but here is one of Edward Williams of Co. H, 10th Rhode Island Infantry (LOC)
1st Lt. Joseph Langford Bennett (1838-1898) of Co. A, 10th Rhode Island Infantry wrote this letter following the death of William Frederick (“Fred”) Atwood (1845-1862), a corporal serving in his company. Fred was the 17 year-old son of William and Emeline Atwood, a recent graduate of the Providence high school. Fred was described by his comrades as having a “genial temperament and generous disposition, which drew around him a circle of personal friends.” Though the lieutenant pledged to “deposit your son’s remains in Rhode Island soil with our own hands,” it does not appear that ever occurred. According to the regimental history, his body remained buried “in a retired and beautiful spot near the Soldiers’ Home, overlooking the Capitol which his youthful footsteps had hastened to defend.” Strangely, Fred’s father enlisted a few months later in the 11th Rhode Island Infantry and he too sickened and died—buried in Arlington Cemetery across the Potomac river from his son.
The 10th Rhode Island regiment was mustered into Federal service for three months in the summer of 1862. It was sworn in at Providence on May 26, 1862 and then moved to Washington, D. C. from May 27 to 29 where it was attached to Sturgis’ Command as part of the Military District of Washington. It saw duty at Camp Frieze, Tennallytown until June 26. With Sturgis, the regiment marched across the Potomac into Virginia, but returned to Washington when Jackson’s threat to the city subsided.
After a few days, on Monday morning, June 30, the 10th was detached from Sturgis’ troops and ordered to relieve the 59th New York in the seven forts and three batteries it had been occupying. These defenses of Washington were north and west of the city.
Company A was sent to Fort Franklin. This position guarded the Baltimore and Ohio Canal, the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, and the Washington Aqueduct—the new water supply for the city. the U. S. Army Engineers had designed Fort Franklin to protect the city’s receiving reservoir (as conveyed by the Aqueduct) as well as the Potomac river shoreline.
T RA N S C R I P T I O N
Fort Franklin Headquarters Co. A, 10th Regt. Rhode Island Vol. July 2nd 1862
Dear Sir,
Capt. Taber telegraphed you on Sunday, June 29th, that your son Wm. F. Atwood, (a member of our company) died on the said 29th of June and that his body would be sent home to you. Unfortunately circumstances occured which forbade us the melancholy pleasure of fulfilling our designs. Your son was buried on Monday, June 30th at 4 p.m. in the Soldier Retreat. Capt. Taber knows the precise spot in which he lies and we shall at the earliest opportunity bring his body to Providence.
In regard to your son’s death, he would say that it was one of perfect peace. He did not suffer at all, but on the contrary was perfectly free from pain. The Surgeon states that he died from inflammation of the bowels. During his stay in the General [Seminary] Hospital at Georgetown, he received the best of care. One of the most experienced nurses remained with [him] during the night previous to his death. His last request was that he might be buried at home. We did all that we could at the time but we could not get his body home short of five days and the government allows but seven dollars for the whole expense while the actual expense is over one hundred dollars. And unfortunately, while engaged in contriving some way to transport the body, Capt. Taber was ordered back to camp to move his company to this fort. He consequently had no alternative but to comply with said orders.
As a company, we shall see that the body is removed to Providence and interred with all the honors of a soldier and patriot. It may be pleasing to you to know that as a man and soldier, he had no superior. He was regarded by all of his company as an amiable and desirable companion. None mourn his loss more than me. Our company is thrown into the most profound gloom by the loss of our beloved companion. As officers, we feel that one of the ornaments of our company has been removed by the hand of divine Providence and although we mourn his loss, we know that God doeth all things well.
We should have notified you sooner but it was entirely beyond our power. Any questions you may ask, or any information you may desire, we will do out best to satisfy. Please direct to the Capt. at Washington, D. C. By order of Capt. Wm. E. Tabor, Jr., I remain, with much respect, yours to command, – Lieut. Bennett
P. S. If you will send a written order to Capt. Taber authorizing him to take charge of the effects of your son, he can and will do so, until such a time as he can forward them to you.
Our company have all desired to be remembered to you in this the time of bereavement. Rest assured we will do all in our power an we expect to deposit your son’s remains in Rhode Island soil with our own hands. Truly yours, — Bennett, 1st Lt. Co. A, 10th Regt. R. I. V.
Believed to be a member of the Keystone Zouaves (Collection of Al and Claudia Niemiec)
James Rumbaugh wrote the following four letters while serving in Co. F, 76th Pennsylvania Infantry (a.k.a., the “Keystone Zouaves”).. He was drafted into the regiment on 13 July 1863 as a private and was discharged on 23 May 1865. We learn from James’ letters that he was wounded on 7 May 1864 when participating in Butler’s operations on the south side of the James River near Petersburg. According to the regimental history, the brigade in which the regiment was placed, commanded by Col. Barton, embarked upon transports, and headed as if for an expedition to West Point and White House; but suddenly changing direction proceeded down the York, and up the James, landing at Bermuda Hundred. It moved towards the Petersburg and Weldon Railroad, destroying several miles of the track, under heavy fire. The rebels were forced back to Drury’s Bluff, where they were reinforced, and the object of the reconnoissance being accomplished, the brigade was withdrawn. The Seventy-sixth lost sixty-five in killed, wounded and missing.
James wrote the letters to David Henri Dunmire (1844-1901) of Armstrong county, Pennsylvania. He was the son of David and Sarah (Heffelfinger) Dormire.
[Note: These letters are from the personal collection of Don Andrew and were made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Letter 1
Addressed to Mr. Henry Dormire, Maysville, Armstrong county, Penna.
Hilton Head, South Carolina March 28th, 1864
Well Henry, I thought it time I would write a few lines to you to find out how you was getting along. This leaves me in good health and I hope it may find you enjoying the same blessing.
They have got me on an island down here and if the rebels get after me, I can’t run like I could when I was stealing apples. I haint got so much room to get out of the way.
Last Sabbath a week ago about four o’clock in the morning, they heard boats in the stream and sent in for the companies and the men got out and it is supposed that the rebs thought it was too late for them [to] make an attack, and was about leaving and they challenged them and they gave no answer and we opened fire on them and they were rather far out in the stream but we wounded some of them for we heard them groan. If the moon had set about two o’clock, they would have made landing and give us a hot time of it. There was five boats come up there and about 25 lying back in May River, but our gunboats run up and shelled them back. We are looking for them every night.
The company all along the picket line has to fall out at three o’clock every morning and stay up till daylight. We don’t get much sleep at night for we are on guard every third night. I have been on picket every third night since I came down here and that is about five months. They come over in little boats to capture a picket post nearly every night but we always see them before they get landed and they are on the water and we are on land behind a tree and they have a poor show. There never was any of this regiment captured yet until the other night and we have pickets out in little boats—five men in a boat—and the rebs captured one of the boats the other night. [It] is the first ever was captured on picket. We are expecting them to make a raid soon.
Well Henry, we have very nice and warm weather. Everything is green here—only the niggers and they are black as you please. There is towns of them here and they have a few chickens now but not many. If a chicken wants to live out half its days or have good health, it musn’t crow before daylight or it will lose its feathers. We have stole all the chickens, all the ducks, and sweet potatoes that we wanted and that ain’t all we got. But the other I won’t tell you about.
Well Henry, I am tired writing till I see whether you get this or not, and if you get this, please answer it, and then I will let you know more about things the next time. Excuse bad writing and spelling. So l will close by sending my best respects to you and all enquiring friends. Please answer my letter. Tell me all the news. Henry, write soon. — James Rumbaugh
Direct your letter to Hilton Head, S C., Co. F, 76th Regt. Penn. Vols.
Letter 2
General Hospital Hampton, Virginia June 3, 1864
Mr. Henry Dunmire,
I seat myself to answer your letter which I received this morning and I was truly glad to hear from you to hear that you was well. I hope that these few lines will find you still in good health.
I have good health but on the 7th of last month I got wounded through the left leg just above the knee. It is mending slowly. I am not able to get out yet, I got wounded near Petersburg. They were fighting all day and Friday and our brigade didn’t get into it till Saturday and we went in about 11 o’clock and I got wounded about 3 and our brigade fought till 5 o’clock in the evening and then firing ceased. We tore up about 40 rods of the [Petersburg & Weldon] Railroad. It was a hot time for a while. We had a crick to cross and it was about 6 foot wide and about 5 foot deep. There was about 3 foot of water in it and when we jumped into it, the Rebs opened on us and they just piled the crick full of us. We got out of that as quick as possible. The Rebs was in rifle pits at the foot of a hill and had their big guns on the top of the hill and they played right down on us.
They may talk as they damn please about the Rebs losing so many more men than us but I can tell you it’s not the case. I wasn’t so damn bad excited but what I took notice what was going on. If you was at this hospital, you could see some of them. They are shipping them away from the hospital as fast as they get able to and it just fills up as fast as they leave. They are dying very fast too. I will tell you a few things if I ever get home and I have no other idea but I will.
When I get home, I will tell you something about gathering mountain tea and I will throw that anvil away. But my jumping is played out I guess. I guess I can kick the pole yet. Well, Henry, I must close for the present. I will write more the next time. I have to sit on the bed and write this so please answer this as soon as you get it. Tell me when you heard from William. I wrote two letters to him and have got no answer yet. So I will close by sending my best respects to you.
So goodbye/ Write soon. — James Rumbaugh
Letter 3
Ward 19, Chestnut Hill Hospital Philadelphia, [Pennsylvania] September 11, 1864
I take this opportunity to write a few lines to you to let you know that I have got back in the hospital again. My leg is still sore yet but getting better. I guess I will be around the hospital about a month yet and then I guess I will leave it. I am sorry that I didn’t get down to see you but you know that I couldn’t walk very well and I couldn’t get down. You mustn’t think that I didn’t want to come down there for you know how I would like to gather mountain tea. I guess I can’t tell you who gathers mountain tea when I do till I see her again and then I will tell you. I heard from her yesterday and she says she hasn’t been out on the hill since I left not didn’t intend to go out till I came back. And you needn’t try to get her out.
Well, Henry, I just thought about the draft and that you might be drafted, and I thought I would tell you what to do if you were drafted. If you are drafted, just shoulder up your farm and take a drink for me and start, but write and tell me who all is drafted before you leave.
Well, Henry, I guess I will close for this time, not having much to write but hoping to hear from you soon. So please write as soon as you get this and tell me all the news. Don’t forget. So I will close by sending my best respects to you and I will write more the next time. So goodbye. Write soon. Nothing more at the present. Direct your letter to Ward 19, Chestnut Hill Hospital, Philadelphia. — James Runbaugh
To Henry Dormire
Letter 4
Chestnut Hill Hospital Philadelphia, Penn. January 31, 1865
Dear friend,
I take this opportunity to answer your welcome letter that came to hand this morning and I was truly glad to hear from you to hear that you was well. This leaves me well and I hope that these few lines may find you enjoying the same blessing. I am still in the hospital yet and I don’t know when I will leave this. They have sent a great many away from this hospital in the last week. There is only about 18 hundred in this hospital now and Oh God, how I am waiting to be paid off and then I am going to have a big spree or die on the way and I don’t know. It may be I will take a furlough and come home to see how many of you fellows is drafted.
Well, Henry, I got right up in dust when I heard that Bill McClellan was married. I suppose he didn’t make her say quack, quack like he did the goose but he would hold so tight to her as he did to the heifer, only the tail hold wouldn’t be as long. I expect he felt as big as Old Bob Townsend. I don’t hardly think he felt as big as Old Hunter.
Well, Henry, the next time you get your hands on them again, I want you to do more than that or let them be for you will just put them in the [ ] for somebody else and get them spoilt for they will et someone at them and they won’t know when it is done well after that.
Well, Henry, you must excuse me for this time for I have a pass to go to the City and the train will soon be here and I will have to go on this train or not get going this day. Well, Henry, please excuse me for his time and write soon. Don’t forget to write. I will close by sending y best respects. From your friend, — James Rumbaugh
I could not find an image of John Stevens but here is one of John Robert Mills (1826-1885) who served in the same company. He rose through the ranks and was eventually commissioned 2nd Lieutenant.
John D. Stevens (1836-1921) was serving as a private in Co. K, 60th New York State Volunteers when he wrote this letter in mid-March 1862 from Camp Goodrich. He enlisted on 2 October 1861 at Ogdensburgh. In April 1863 he was promoted to Corporal, just before he was taken prisoner at the Battle of Chancellorsville. After he was paroled, he returned to his regiment and was with them until receiving a gun shot wound in his left hand on 19 June 1864 during the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain and sent to a hospital for the remainder of his service.
John was the son of Sylvester Stevens (1812-1898) and Eleanor Downing (1818-1888) of Hermon, Saint Lawrence county, New York.
60th N. Y. Regiment State Vol. Camp Goodrich March 13th 1862
Dear Uncle Henry,
I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well at present and I hope that these few lines will find you the same. We have moved from where we was. We have moved back to towards Washington. Took the railroad from Baltimore almost to Washington. The whole regiment is on the railroad now. We have got in a very nice place here now. We can see plenty of slaves here of mail and female. It is a pretty country here. We can see some large farms here, some nice houses here. We can hear them fighting every day here. We can hear the cannons here most every day now.
We live in barracks right on the railroad. We can see all the cars pass here now. Within six days we have seen twenty regiments pass along this road here. Some days we see six regiments pass along here going south. The soldiers have all of them have left Baltimore now. There was three large steamboats came from New York last week to Baltimore to carry the soldiers to Fortress Monroe Monday. There was sixty thousand crossed the Potomac since Tuesday. They was eighty thousand crossed the same river.
We can hear the cannons here today. We are close to the Rebels now. We are [ ] guarding this road now [so] we shan’t go in any fight now for they have got us on this road. We shan’t never have the chance as we have live. It is very sickly here. We have lost our 1st Lieutenant here now to die with the typhoid fever. We have lost six out of our company now. But Uncle Henry, the weather is getting warm here now. The frogs peep here like fun. They are plowing and sowing peas here now. It is spring here now. The weather is like your April weather there…
Uncle Henry, do you think Chub has took his [ ] yet. Do you think he has [ ] the walls yet? …I forgot to tell one thing. I got your letter that you wrote the first of the month. It was a good one. I have wrote two to mother since I got that from you but don’t get no answer from it yet. You write me first rate letters. Mary must write the same. I like to get letters from you for you write good letters, and long ones too. That is the reason I like to hear from you the best of any one that writes to me. You must excuse bad writing and bad spelling. You must write to [me] soon as you get this from me. Tell Aunt Mary I will write to her next time. Soodbye for this time. This from John Stevens
Henry Baker (1843-1911), the son of Henry Baker, Sr. (1808-Aft1860) and Anna P. (1814-Aft1860) of Hopewell, Mercer county, New Jersey, wrote the following letter in September 1861 from Wesleyan University—a Methodist affiliated college in Middletown, Connecticut. Shorty after he graduated he 1864, he was ordained a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church and he remained in the profession for 45 years.
Henry wrote the letter to his cousin, Sarah (“Sallie”) B. Taylor (1840-18xx), the daughter of Samuel Buell Taylor (1809-1870) and Margaret Head (1812-1880) of Upper Makefield, Bucks county, Pennsylvania.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Miss Sallie B. Taylor, Taylorsville, Bucks county, Penn.
Middletown [Connecticut] Sunday afternoon, September 22, [1861]
Dear Sallie,
I now address myself to the long neglected duty of writing to you. Time has passed very rapidly and each hour having its allotted duty, correspondence has often been thrown aside, My not writing before has not arisen from any other cause than want of time. Nearly six weeks of college life have gone very swiftly indeed. It seems but yesterday when I first entered these halls and varied have been the experiences undergone since August 15th. My studies are these—Greek Aeschines on the Crown, Latin Cicero De Officiis, and Latin Composition, Trigonometry and Navigation Biblical Geography and Rhetoric, beside Composition and Declamation, so you see every moment is occupied.
The Sophomore class have more studying to do than any other class in college. And as I entered without the drill of last year, I have to study pretty hard. The Freshman Class number 58, the largest that ever entered. So you see hard times don’t affect Wesleyan.
The faculty I like very much—learned men and very pleasant and kind. The students also are a very nice collection of young men, about 140. Of course I don’t know all of them. The circle in which I have been thrown I like much. Most of the Psi U’s.
Capt. Daniel C. Knowles, Co. D, 48th N. Y. Vols.
I belong to Prof. Knowles Society and Boarding Club. One of the members of our class—[Charles Washburn] Church—has a brother in Mr. [Capt. Daniel C.] Knowles’s Company. He spent several days with his brother before Col. [James H.] Perry’s regiment [48th New York Vols.] left for Washington. He told me that Mr. Knowles’s was the best company in the regiment and that Mr. Knowles was considered a very fine officer, much beloved by his men.
I have taken several strolls through the country and have been much benefited by them. Yesterday, Kelley wanted me to go to the Feldspar [or White Rock] Quarries about five miles from Middletown where some fine specimens can be obtained, but fearing the walk would be too much, I declined. Well, Kelley came back about 6 o’clock tired to death and nearly sick, I being very glad that I did not go.
My chum, Charles T. Reed, of whom you have some knowledge is kind; a little gassy and egotistical however. We get along quite pleasantly. How are you at Taylorsville? Is Aunt Sue home or at Moorstown? Please tell her that if I knew where she was, I would have answered her kind letter. I will do it as soon as I am informed of her whereabouts. Preset my compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Buckman. Hope young Elmer will be as good and half a man as his illustrious namesake.
Eight weeks more and this term will close and Providence permitting, I will be home, sweet home, and I can assure you that I will be by no means sorry. How precious do all my dear friends seem now that I am far removed from them. I hear from home that the [Pennington] Seminary is fast filing up, contrary to Dr.’s expectations. Those were halcyon days in truth passed at the Old Seminary. How they are prized now that they are passed, never to be recalled. There is not so much home feeling at college as there is in Seminaries. More class and society feelings a dividing up of those who ought to be united into parties and factions and yet this rivalry is pleasant. There have been several of conflicts between the Sophomore and Freshman classes, one of which threatened serious consequences for some time, but they were happily averted. Eight members of our class were suspended for two or three days. In these fracas’s of course, I am not engaged. They arise mostly from the endeavors of the Sophomores to haze the Freshmen.
Tell Aunt Sybil that I will answer to her letter tomorrow week. Write all the news. Direct to Henry Baker, Box 371, Middletown, Ct.
Love to all. The penmanship of htis resembles Aunt Sue’s.
Albert Balcom (1835-1895) wrote this letter in mid-December 1862 from Arlington Heights, Va., while serving in Co. D, 8th New York Cavalry. Albert was from Sherburne (Chenango county) where he was a farmer prior to his enlistment in the fall of 1862. He mustered in on 20 September 1862 and was with the regiment until January 1864 when he was transferred to the 6th Veteran Reserve Corps.
Albert was the son of Francis Balcom (1813-1876) and Dinah Elmina Freeman (1812-1902). He was married to Harriet Amanda Shaw (1841-1896) in November 1861.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mrs. A. Balcom, Sherburne, New York
Thursday morning, December 11th 1862 Arlington Heights near Fort Albany, Va.
Hattie,
We are having the finest of weather here now, and it seems almost like a spring morning. And as it is impossible for me to see you this morning, I will spend what little time I have before drills in thinking of and writing to you. I am in the best of mood this morning and if you were here, I would be perfectly happy.
There is nothing of any importance going on here and no news of any account. As we drill on horseback, I do not get tired for it agrees with me very well to ride. We have to practice with our sabers a while every day.
Hattie, I suppose I must tell you something about our domestic or culinary affairs. Some draw their rations raw and cook themselves. But I with quite a number of others bought a cook stove which cost only 40 cents each and we have a large tent and two men to cook, so all we have to do is to go and get what we want to eat such as it is. It consists of good bread every meal (that the government furnishes and is baked by a baker), a pint of coffee without milk, all the pork or bef we want, sometimes salt[ed] and sometimes fresh, and rice and molasses two or three times a week, and potatoes about twice a week.
Our horses have had a distemper and sore tongue for some time which makes them look rather bad. My horse has got about well now and is in as good order as any horse here. The horses have twelve quarts oats or corn per day and all the hay they want, but have to stand out doors set or dry which is pretty tough as the nights are pretty cold.
Hattie, I hope you will see to everything there and see that everything is kept in order. Do not let my books get scattered about or any of my things. Hattie, be a good girl and write me. It has been some time since I got a letter from you. Goodbye Hat. Affectionately yours, From Albert
Direct as before.
If I had a wife and she would get drunk I’d pull the hair all of her head Look away, look away, look away in Dixie land.
Spared & Shared 23 