The following letter was written by William Bruno Brimblcom (1832-1900) but if you look for his service record, you won’t find it under that name. For reasons that can only be conjectured, William enlisted in Co. D, 18th New Hampshire Infantry under the name “James Maynard” on 21 September 1864, giving Dover as his place of residence. He was transferred to Co. G in June 1865 and musterd out on 29 July 1865.

William was one of several children born to Rev. Samuel Brimblecom, Jr. (1799-1879) and Harriette Buttrick (1798-1878) who by the time this letter was written, had relocated from New England to Santa Clara, California. William was married to Emily Cordelia Gragg (1833-1912) but family history suggests that William’s addiction to alcohol caused a separation between the couple resulting, perhaps, in William’s enlistment and a hope that life in the service might dry him out. Perhaps he changed his name to avoid further shame to his family. A family letter posted on Ancestry.com states, “Aunt Lucy corresponded with him as James Maynard but I have never heard why he changed his name but image that it may have been on account of his weakness for alcohol. He possibly did not wish to risk disgracing the family name.”

William’s letter speaks of the final days battles around Petersburg in late March, early April 1865.

[This letter is from the collection of Greg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

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

Field Hospital 9th Army Corps
City Point, Virginia
12th April 1865

My dear mother,

I am once more on the list of killed and wounded and will take the occasion to commence a letter to you and will finish it as the condition of my injuries will permit. The smoke of the battles has cleared away and coming out into the light we find ourselves in possession of Petersburg and Richmond, forty-five miles of the strongest fortifications in the world, prisoners by tens of thousands, Lee’s army captured or knocked to pieces, the Great Rebellion collapsed, and the War over. If Albert is all right, then you have lost none of your sons for I am all right except a bad wrench of the left thigh which happened in one of the final charges on the enemy works before Petersburg. This did not prevent me from hobbling into Petersburg the next morning with my regiment which was one of the first to enter the city. I could not have missed that on any account.

For a fortnight before the last battle, we had been in the front line of the army so near the enemy that a stone could easily be tossed from our picket line into their. I frequently shouted to the Johnnies what I would do in Petersburg in a week or two, their reply to which bravado would be a bullet answered by one from me.

Truth, I have been in some places that I wished myself well out of. For instance, on the morning of Sunday, April 2nd, when we formed a line in Fort Stedman to storm the Reb fort opposite, Minié balls buzzed like mad hornets, round shot screamed like angry hawks, and shells burst so that one could almost read by the light of them while the noise surpassed anything else of which I have any conception. Do you want to know how I felt? Well, with a perfectly clear conscience of the tremendous peril, I was cool as a cucumber and had as perfect possession of my powers and faculties as ever in my life. Had plenty of time to laugh at the cowardice of some of my officers. My 2nd Lieutenant [John Underhill of Chester, N. H.] was so scared that he could scarce stand and could not speak while Capt. [Alvah K.] Potter of Co. A ran away to a safe ravine half a mile from the battle. Had I their reputations, I would never go home.

On the 29th of March the enemy made a desperate assault in the night on the part of the line held by my regiment [in and around Fort Stedman]. The 18th [New Hampshire] won much applause by the gallant manner in which it fought and repulsed the attack. The fire we delivered is said to have supassed any ever seen in the Army of the Potomac. We fired nearly 70,000 bullets. What the enemy’s loss was never can be known as they removed most of the dead & wounded before morning. I know we changed the character of the battle yell in a very short time. In this action we lost our Major [William I. Brown] killed & [Lt-] Colonel [Joseph M. Clough] wounded. I have found out whether I have any courage.

Henry made me a call two months or so since. Stopped only three hours. Was well and doing well. I suppose you hear from [my wife] Emily occasionally. I correspond with her regularly—write often. What we shall finally do even if I live remains for time to decide. I am still young but after all have had a good deal of experience—sad enough too. Perhaps those who have separated once had better stay so. What is your advice? The Rum is pretty well out of me now. I meant it should be if I lived. Now I hope it will stay out but can’t tell.

I will close and mail this and write again sometime. Love to sis and all the boys. Affectionately your son, — William