The following letters were written by Theron Treat (1839-1908), the son of Barzillai Treat (1807-1894) and Sophia Kingsley (1814-1898) of West Worcester, Otsego county, New York. He wrote them during the American Civil War while serving in Co. D, 3rd New York Cavalry. His service records inform us that he enlisted in late August 1864 and mustered out in early June 1865—a total of ten months. Enlisting a few days before Theron was his cousin, William “Lorenzo” Knapp, who no doubt had some influence on his decision to join the regiment and avoid the draft.

Theron datelined both of his letters from the detachment’s encampment near Pungo Landing, a flat farmland, marshy area along the North Landing River in southeastern Virginia, some 30 miles from Norfolk and east of the Great Dismal Swamp.

[Note: These letters are from the collection of Brandon White and were made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Letter 1

In Camp at Pungo Landing [Virginia]
December the 21st, 1864

Well, here I am, well and hearty, and hope that you are all well. I got your letter two or three days ago. You wrote that you heard that I was lame. All that I have been lame was two or three days in one of my legs and that was not as bad as I have had it at home. So you see that you have had all that worrying for nothing. You wanted me to write how I was. That I do every time [I write]. My health is a great deal better than I thought it would be in the army and I like it first rate.

We are in a good place now and shall stay here some time. There is nothing to do but a little guard duty and that is to keep contraband goods from going into the country where we don’t want them to go. We are within five miles of the line between the states of North Carolina and Virginia. Our people have held this part of the state for two years so there is no rebs in these parts. We buy all of the fresh fish that we want and all of the milk and all of the fresh meat and sweet potatoes that we want, and we have a first rate time.

Lorenzo and I have a log house of our own with a brick fireplace and a good bed and lots of blankets and we have things in style. You will laugh but it is true.

You wanted me to get a furlough but I don’t want one. I am a going to stay and see this thing through and then when the time is up that I enlisted for, then I shall come home for the war will be over in a short time and I feel a great deal more like a man here than I should at home, scared almost to death at the word, D-R-A-F-T. Tell the Copperheads that they will have to come when Old Abe says the word and [Gov.] Seymour can’t save them now for scared creatures—Oh! where is Little Mac?

Tell John Treat to raise a boy for it is war ties and he must do something for his country, and it may as well be that as anything else. There is not much news to write. The weather has been very nice. There has not been any snow nor much cold weather.

You wrote that you would send me a box if I wanted. I can get all of the things here as well and as cheap so there is no need of it. I have got some undershirts and all the stockings and all the clothes that I want and I have got the money to buy all that I want to eat. And half of the boxes don’t come through [anyway] so you see that it don’t pay. I think that Lorenzo is foolish to have one sent. Tell [brother] John to write to me in the next letter. Clara wrote that he had been sick. I hope he is well and seeing to the colt. The reason that I did not get a horse when Lorenzo did was he got his to Camp Stoneman and I did not go there. — Theron Treat

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Letter 2

In Camp at Pungo Landing
May 21st [1865]

​I am well and hearty and so is Lorenzo. He is about ten miles from here. I came from there this morning. I went down there yesterday to see the boys that was there. There is about half of our company there. You need not worry one bit about either one of us. We are alright and in good places.

​I got a letter from you dated the 29th and a paper the other day. I was down to Norfolk the other day and saw that Ram that our boys took at Richmond and the one that they took at Wilmington. They was a right smart sight, I recon.

​Well, I think this war is about played out and I think the rebs are as tired as they need to be and well they might be. They have caught the murderer of old Abe and shot him and if anyone says they are glad old Abe is dead, they had ought to be served the same way. I don’t care who it is. And I should like to try them on with my carbine about three paces off. They are meaner than rebs and that is needless.

​You wrote that Aunt Pitts was dead so you see that people don’t live always [even] if they ain’t in the army. I recon a man will live till his time comes, let him be where he will. As for having to go on a raid, I never had to ride twenty miles in the army at one time, so it ain’t very hard, is it? And you need not worry about the guerrillas for there ain’t any here.

​I think some of the troops will be discharged before long and they may take it in to their heads to discharge us. Well, I don’t care much if they do. Well, John, how are you today? Well, I hope you must not work too hard but be a good boy and I recon I will bring you a stick of candy or something else. As for that yellow gal, she is too big to send in a letter.

— Theron Treat