My passion is studying American history leading up to & including the Civil War. I particularly enjoy reading, transcribing & researching primary sources such as letters and diaries.
The following two letters were signed by “W. H. Gray.” I cannot confirm his identity. It may have been William Henry Gray (b. 1840), the son of William Gray (b. 1809-Aft860)—a grocer in Richmond, Henrico county, Virginia. The letter suggests that the author was a young man employed as a merchant in Richmond and that he was probably enrolled in the local militia. He makes no mention of parents or close family relatives that I could discern, suggesting that he may not have been native to Richmond. The following passage in particular suggests his solitary life: “I have concluded to stay here, let what come may. My life is all I have to fight for. I can do that as well here as elsewhere. I shall make no advance. I want to kill no one. I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m not exasperated. When encroachments are made upon me, that which I conceive to be the most effectual in my defense will be resorted to without reserve, the invading party being responsible for the result.”
Letter 1
Richmond, [Virginia] April 22, 1861
My dear Virginia friend Bettie,
“The present only is ours.” This sentence—very forcible indeed at this time operating upon my mind, causes me to thus occupy my pen in transcribing thoughts which I have not otherwise succeeded in communicating.
I wrote you a letter the other day but had no opportunity to send it. I think it happened very well. Things seemed very squally at that time and there were many strong indications that I would be very suddenly necessitated to absent myself or receive some very severe treatments. The springing up, however, and interposition (of what I had nearly come to the conclusion I did not have) after considerable remonstrances abandoned the plot in a measure, and prevented its execution. I was not the least frightened because I’m always on the score to vindicate my cause; but, I thought it would probably be better to quietly move off than suffer such outraged indignities.
I desired to see you and wrote to the effect that I might meet you at home yesterday. I became somewhat reconciled, and am very glad I did not have opportunity to forward my message. Would liked very much to seen you but it would been wrong to have asked you to leave your company which you were enjoying very much. I’m very anxious to do what is right. I’m very willing to concede to just and satisfactory measures. But, the earth shall drink the last drop of my blood, and that of every man South or North before I will be frightened and forced into measures which I conceive to be a violation of my political freedom.
“A clear conscience is health to the soul.” Mine is very faithful and true to me. God forbid it should be anything else. I have concluded to stay here, let what come may. My life is all I have to fight for. I can do that as well here as elsewhere. I shall make no advance. I want to kill no one. I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m not exasperated. When encroachments are made upon me, that which I conceive to be the most effectual in my defense will be resorted to without reserve, the invading party being responsible for the result.
I think now, however, that all will be well. For reasons which I could not here take time to give, I think the war will not be so disastrous as many anticipate. We will in all probability have engagements , but I think not many and not so terrible. Washington, I have no doubt, will soon fall into the hands of the South. The North is divided, and thousands deplore such a bloody conflict. The war is unjust—uncalled for, and such a war can’t prosper. It will subside for a time at least.
I will visit you Saturday evening next myself. If convenient, will go to Mr. Huffman’s. I will not disappoint this time. If I do, I will be responsible for it. I’m not responsible for the other disappointments. I was too forgetful that these Virginians do not always fulfill engagements. His expense was a good one. I waited for him Sunday morning until it was too late to come myself. Had I come, it would not have sufficed. You contemplated one much more agreeable. Am exceedingly sorry that engagements have broken on my account.
I don’t conceive what reason you have for thinking that I don’t value an engagement with you. Never to my knowledge have I broken one with you until Saturday a week ago. And had it been my own individual obligation, I should have passed through the siege of Sebastopol to its redemption.
I acknowledge that I would not break an engagement for you or anybody else at will, but I will arrange so that all can be fulfilled. When I obligate myself, I’m apt to see how it is to be met and only unforeseen circumstances prevent it. I don’t mean any reference in the above—not one. But, I know you expect me to resist any intimation of my not valuing an engagement with you, when I think you have abundant reason to know that it will take a much longer time to fathom my love for you than yours for me. I will make a ocular demonstration to you the next time we meet.
Am sorry I could not get out to court Miss Mollie a little. We might have come to terms. Among all the strange things that happen in the world, that might have been one. Suppose, however, I will have to content myself until the war is over. Perhaps the demands will be greater then. I may get a good bargain when there is no opposition. [ ] lives will be so fashionable, perhaps I will then commit the savage deed upon you.
Saw Miss Emma H. last Sunday. She is very pretty and lively. Would be well pleased to have you visit her. I have but one objection to Miss Emma—that is—she won’t have me.
You will enjoy a visit there now. We can go there Sunday, I think. I can spend Monday and Tuesday with you. If you come to town from Mr. Courtney’s, don’t forget your obligation. Walker is going to give me hers. Put on those pretty curls if they are becoming. I believe if I had had your Ambrotype last week, I should have gave away. Was bound not to go without it. I must stop now and go to the market to see if there is any chance to send this to you. Very sincerely yours, — W. H. G.
Letter 2
Richmond [Virginia] June 12th 1861
My Jewel,
I have been to the market this morning for the purpose getting Ed to call up for this letter thinking I could find time to prepare it. I don’t find him there. I will write now fearing I will not have more time.
Was sorry I could not respond to your letter of Saturday [8 June 1861]. I received your note borne by Mrs. Walls. Am much obliged to you for being so liberal in excusing me. Have not seen Mrs. Walls since she returned. Immediately she came to town. She was hurried off up to Mrs. Parker’s to see Esquire (Mr. Sullivan, properly). News came that he had been seriously hurt on parade Saturday evening. He was thrown from a piece of artillery and hurt considerable. He is recovering speedily.
He expected to have come out to see you on Sunday. He hoped that he would not meet such company as he met before and wished in very strong terms that I could not get there. God governs all things! I’m very sorry he did not get out to see you. I could have come on the train Sunday morning but restrained myself in consequence of his intentions to visit and his hope that I would not be present. I know he can’t enjoy himself where I am.
I expected to work some on Sunday. My customers wanted me to very much. I made arrangements to do it. Went to the shop Sunday morning and put on my black clothes to go to work. I couldn’t work a stroke. I concluded that since I had lived so long without working on the Sabbath day, it was too late to begin now for any reason. I left it. When I went back Monday morning, I found the work all done!
I believe I’m doing very well. Have to work hard. I had all my things fixed to go to Manassas Junction this morning but it turned out not necessary that I should go.
Suppose you had a happy time Saturday evening and Sunday. Expect you heard all the old tales and a good many new ones. Suppose you will tell me. Hope I will be able to come out Saturday to hear them. Mrs. Walls will probably be home today and I’ll get one or two which will last until I see you. Tell Pet that that is not all, I charged “myself the same.” But we’ll square the account when I come out.
Think you took very crooked way to get home from Mr. Huffman’s. Mrs. Jennings went to see Mr. Vaughan, did she? Am glad to hear she is in good spirits. It would be a good time now for me to cut a few out while he is away. Reckon he would be willing to make an even trade with me. Guess would trade.
If you had kept your face straight, you need not have told Emma that was your picture. She was not at all certain of it. I expect Mrs. Walls is thoroughly posted now. She can make you tell her anything she wants to know. I’ll know how it is in about five minutes after I see her. I can see it in her eyes if it is in her mind.
Thank you for the postage you sent by her. Been round to see Walker several times lately. Have a great notion to quit going. They don’t act like they were acquainted with me. Think I’m about twenty-one. If no one wants to associate with me, I will associate with myself. I like that company very much. Like the man who talked to himself. He was asked by a friend why he did it. He replied that he liked to converse with a man of sense. Am going to be Monarch of a little empire myself which I trust will bring comforts without their aid.
Was at Quaker Church Sunday. Was very much entertained indeed. Heard elegant sermon. Gave me great encouragement in my exiled condition. Have good many things to tell you when I see you. Must stop and go to work now. My love to Pet and all, very truly yours, — W. H. Gray
I opened this to insert a line, then I will entrust it with Pet. Am sorry I can’t stay until your return. Would have come early yesterday but was engaged until dark. I have to go back in consequence of being pressed to work some this afternoon. I want to see you very much. Will come down soon as I can leave conveniently. My friend is here. Unfortunately he has met unpleasant company. I have looked for you all morning. Have concluded you would not get home until evening. Devotedly yours, — W. H. G.
The following letter was written by George Minor Watson (1812-1860), the son of David Watson (1773-1830) and Sarah Minor (1781-1849) of Sunning Hill, Louisa county, Virginia. George wrote this letter in 1839 while visiting family and friends in Richmond, Virginia. He appears to have taken up residence in Arkansas sometime prior to this date; he was enumerated in the 1840 US Census at El Dorado, Union county, Arkansas, the owner of as many as 11 slaves. He was still there at the time of the 1850 Census but had relocated to Ward 4 of Washington D. C. by the time of the 1860 census—an inmate of the government hospital for the Insane.
George wrote the letter to Thomas W. Hunt (1820-1862) of Memphis, Shelby county, Tennessee, who married Judith Parsons Mosby (1819-1896) in May 1841. Thomas was the first president of the Memphis Chamber of Commerce, organized in April 1860. He was a partner in the firm, Harris, Hunt & Co. in Memphis.
Richmond, Virginia, in the 1830s
Transcription
Richmond [Virginia] April 30, 1839
Dear Hunt,
Here I am my friend in this glorious city. Having just swallowed a good dinner, glass of wine, and burnt out a pleasant segar, [I am] now sitting in Dr. Watson’s office to write you this, while the girls (my cousin’s misses Watson) are in the garden plucking flowers to adorn for party which we attend tonight at Mr. Charles Ellis‘s who you may remember is an old and wealthy merchant here. I have been in the city six or eight days buying up a team of mules, wagon, &c. to take my people out to my new sweet home. My business has now been brought somewhat to a head. As I have a team of long-ears at a livery stable down town waiting for my negro man to come down from my mother’s to take them up to Louisa where I shall take on a small load of niggers and cut out.
Heretofore (before today), my mind and time has been engaged in making preparations of this sort and I have not felt inclined to enjoy the gaieties of the city. But tomorrow and next day, I shall turn out and pay morning and evening visits till I go the rounds among my old friends and acquaintances. I have been to the houses of a good many however, seen some, and left my card for those whom I did not find at home.
Richmond has improved vastly for the past few years and is now, I think, a beautiful city. I hardly need tell you of this, however, as you have so recently been here. I never did see the beat of the pretty girls that are here. They will number three to one of the young men. Oh! and what queer ways the fashionable young folks have here! Just let me tell you an instance. A few evenings since, my eldest cousin (Miss Watson) went around with me to introduce me to all of my young female acquaintances who I used to know here, but many of whom of course have grown out of my recollection and had forgotten me, &c. Now at one house at which we called, the servant informed us that the young ladies were not at home. My fair cousin drew out her card and laid it on the centre table. Your humble servant hauled out his card (a fine gilt one too with his name on it in his nicest wort of hand just so, G. M. Watson [signature]). I noticed that my cousin’s card was broken and bent down at one [and] and very ugly. She looked at my card and just took hold of it and gave it a terrible bend on one end till it was as ugly as hers, and says I, “Look here, my dear, do not break my card in order that it may not be prettier than yours.” She laughed very gaily at my sour looks as as we walked off said, “Oh, I bent down one end of your card as a sign to let them know that our visit was intended for the whole family.” “Well,” says I, “sick ways as them beats Arkansas,”
I have been up to my mother’s in Louisa. Several of my female cousins joined me as I passed through this place about 15 or 20 days ago, and went up with me on the railroad cars to my mother’s to be with me as much as possible whilst I stay. I came down here again 6 or 8 days ago and will leave now in a day or two for Louisa. I find boys turned to men and girls to women since I was here a few years ago. Oh, it almost makes me sad to see the changes which have been wrought.
I am often persuaded to abandon my intention of going to the far Southwest and to settle here again among my relations who love me so affectionately. But I can’t go it, Hunt! Arkansas, Arkansas is my home, and it seems to me almost a dream that I am now here. I have seen Mr. Hiram Bragg but have not visited his family yet. Shall do so before I leave. Say so to Sam Mosby. I say Hunt, what you think I did last might? But I won’t tell you. And what you reckon I did today? Well today I paid $20 for a diamond ring and gave it to a gal. “Oh unusual liberality,” you will exclaim. However, I did not give it to one to whom I would like to be married, but to one for whom I cherish a brotherly affection.
I will look in on Mr. Stephen Thompson tomorrow and give your respects. I wrote to Albert last week. I suppose he showed you my letter. And now I must go over to the Female Academy and visit a little girl I’ve got there. Hunt, I can hardly get away from this town. Everything looks so beautiful here now—tis the spring season. I hope to be along through Memphis about 10th or 18th June but don’t know for certain. My best respects to the Missy [Judith] Mosby and ask Sam to stir up those natives that are owing me. Tell Jerry to “go it.”
I hope to get something out of Poindexter’s P. O. from some of you when I return to Louisa. — G. M. Watson
Don’t show this to anyone. It contains more nonsense than I wish to display. I am very anxious to hear what has become of Punington. I have felt uneasy about him ever since I left Memphis. I hope to hear when I get up to Louisa. Excuse me if I’ve mentioned my cousins too often to seem modest in me. They supply the place of sisters to me as my only sister is a married woman and having no little sisters, I am devoted to all my [ ] children, among whom I have lived long time ago. Just notice how they furnish me gilt edged paper. I told them I was going to write to a nice young man and my little black-eyed Caroline Watson ran and got me the finest paper in the house.
Excerpt of letter by Benjamin Sawtell published in the Cleveland Plain Dealer
The following letter was written by Ira Sawtell (1808-1852), the son of Dr. Jonas W. Sawtelle (1787-1861)—the proprietor of a water cure establishment in Cleveland, and his first wife (name unknown). Ira married Emily Rockwell (1810-1869) in 1830 and had at least three children. At the time of the 1850 US Census, he was enumerated in Cleveland’s 2nd Ward working as a cooper (barrel maker) with three daughters living at home, ages 9 to 18.
Ira wrote the letter to his older brother, Benjamin Sawtell (1805-1851), a cooper from Brooklyn Center (west side of Cleveland), Cuyahoga county, Ohio, who left his wife, Mary Matilda Fish (1819-1873) of 13 years and three children, to go to the gold fields of California in 1850. Benjamin wrote a number of letters to the editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer chronicling his overland journey to California in 1850. His death in January 1851 in California was mentioned in that paper but I could find no particulars. One of Benjamin’s letters, datelined 8 September 1850 from the Cold Spring Diggins was published in the Cleveland Plain Dealer and reproduced here: Latest from California—An Interesting Letter from Benj. Sawtell, Esq.
Transcription
Grand Rapids, Michigan July 7, 1850
Dear Brother,
When digging up the lumps of gold Be careful of your health; For this (you need not now be told.) Is better far than wealth—-
You must, you know (’tis very clear) Your health and strength regard; I hope that you will persevere But do not work too hard—
Ambition will, (I often fear,) So fully fill your mind That are for health will disappear, Or fall too far behind—-
Without your health, without your wife Out there in California; You’d lost your time, might lose your life And surely lose much money.—-
Why should we have this love for Gold, A paltry glittering treasure; Which injures oft, the purest souls, And gives but little pleasure—-
Much gold can never make us wise, Or give the second Birth; A competency will suffice For all our wants on earth—-
And when we reach the heavenly shore As scriptures have us told, We’ll find a plenty of that ore The streets will all be gold—-
I really hope you will succeed, Enjoy your life and health; Get all the gold you’ll ever need And wish for no more wealth—-
I read (in the Plain Dealer) with much pleasure your amusing and interesting letter from St. Louis; 1 and was very glad to perceive by the time of your lines that you were in good health and spirits. A letter from me will (probably) come unexpected to you, if you recollect that just before you left I suggested the idea of your writing to me, and you did not promise that you would. You may possibly imagine that I do not think enough of you to write you; but, if you would have any conception of one half of the anxiety I have had about you since you left, you would know that one person, at least, besides your wife and children was thinking much about you in your absence. I was greatly disappointed and felt very badly when you left to think that I could not go with you and expected for two or three days that I should. I have often, since you left, wished myself with you. But perhaps it’s all for the best that I did not go; and I hope it will turn out in the end to be for the best that you did go. If I was in as good situation as you are as respects property, I should not speak of going to California; but, a I was when you left, and am now poorer than Job ever was and out of business, I thought it best to try my luck. I think I would have stood the journey tolerably well and dug considerable gold when I got there; but probably it’s all hypothesis.
You will be surprised (perhaps) to find that I am here. Darwin wrote to me that he wished me to come and live with him and try my luck here in practice and I concluded to come. I have been here but about three weeks but I have done some business—as much as I expected for the time, and have had good success so far, but I think I shall return to Ohio soon. My health is not very good. The water, air, climate, or something else seems to disagree with me. The Cholera has not, I believe, yet prevailed much in any of our cities in this country although there has been a few cases in some of them. I have heard of its prevailing considerably among the emigrants to California and I have been very much concerned about you, fearing you would have it.
I have no very important news to communicate. I had a letter from Julia three or four days ago. She wrote that your family were enjoying good health. Mr. and Mrs. Brong have been terribly afflicted again by the loss of their oldest child, Mary. Julia informed me that she died about two weeks ago and that Melissa had gone East on a visit.
I caution you again to be very careful of your health, and I sincerely wish you would be so kind as to answer this as soon as you receive it and give me some account of your journey, your prospects of success there, the state of your health, when you think you will return, how you like that country, &c. &c. &c. Give my best respects to Mr. Corbin and Mr. Booth; tell them I wish them good success, good health, &c. Tell them I hear that their families are also enjoying good health.
Now do not fail to write me as soon as you receive this. All our relations here are enjoying tolerably good health, I believe, and they all send their respects, best wishes, and love to you. Your affectionate brother, — Doc I. Sawtell
to Mr. Benjamin Sawtell, Esq.
1 Though datelined from Independence, Missouri, on 15 April 1850, much of the following letter pertains to St. Louis, and I believe this is the letter to the editor of the Plain Dealer that Ira refers to. There are numerous letters appearing in that newspaper chronicling Benjamin Sawtell’s journey to California in 1850.
The following remarkable letters were written by Helen Louise Gilson, a native of Boston, but raised in Chelsea, Massachusetts. Her parents, Asa Gilson (1772-1835) and Lydia Cutter (1775-1838) died when Helen was but a little girl. She was the niece of the Honorable Frank Brigham Fay, former Mayor of Chelsea, and she was his ward. Helen wrote all of these letters to her older sister, Mary Ann (Gilson) Holmes (1824-1906), the wife of Galen Holmes, Jr. (1813-1892) of Boston. Their children were Helen (“Nellie”),b. 1850; Carrie, b. 1853; Galen Franklin (“Frank”), b. 1856; and Marian, b. 1859.
Mr. Fay took an active interest in the Union cause during the Civil War, devoting his time, his wealth and his personal efforts to the welfare of the soldiers. Beginning in the autumn of 1861, Gilson’s uncle Frank Fay went in person to every battle in which the Army of the Potomac fought. He went promptly to the battlefield and moved gently among the dead and wounded, soothing those who were parched with fever, crazed with thirst, or lying neglected in the last agonies of death.
Frank Brigham Fay of Chelsea, Mass.
Helen Gilson was greatly influenced by her uncle’s selfless work and wanted to assist him. She applied to Dorothea Dix, the Superintendent of Female Nurses. She was rejected because she was too young, but that did not prevent her from fulfilling her desire to minister to the sick and wounded. Gilson was allowed to work directly with her uncle and his assistants. They had their own tent, formed a tight-knit group, and even created something of a home life. She was present at almost every great battle of the Army of the Potomac, except the first Battle of Bull Run.
In the summer of 1862, Gilson was for some time attached to the Hospital Transport Service, and was on board the ship Knickerbocker at White House and at Harrison’s Landing, Virginia, during the severe battles of McClellan’s movement from the Chickahominy to the James River, called the Peninsula Campaign.
When not more actively employed, she sat by the bedsides of the suffering men. She sang for them and knelt beside their beds amid all the agonizing sights and sounds of the hospital wards. She exerted a remarkable influence over the wounded soldiers. The United States Sanitary Commission had been established in 1861 to care for sick and wounded soldiers, but they had no field agents, and did not attempt to care for the wounded until they were brought to the field hospitals.
In 1863, Mr. Fay took to the Sanitary Commission his plans for an Auxiliary Relief Corps, which would give personal relief to the wounded soldier in the field, and to help him bear his suffering until he could be seen by a surgeon or be transferred to a hospital. For less serious wounds, the Corps would furnish the necessary dressings and attention. The Sanitary Commission adopted these plans, and made Mr. Fay chief of the Auxiliary Relief Corps. He served in that capacity until December 1864, when he resigned, but he continued his independent work until the war ended. Helen Gilson collected supplies and arranged for the transportation of wounded soldiers. She obtained a contract from the government to make army clothing, and kept soldiers’ wives and daughters busy raising money so she could attract more workers by paying a better wage than other contractors.
Gilson always shrank from publicity in regard to her work, but thousands witnessed her ability to evoke order out of chaos, and providing for thousands of sick and wounded men where most people would have been completely overwhelmed. From the reports of the Sanitary Commission, the following passage refers to her:
“Upon Miss Gilson’s services, we scarcely dare trust ourselves to comment. Upon her experience we relied for counsel, and it was chiefly due to her advice and efforts that the work in our hospital went on so successfully. Always quiet, self-possessed and prompt in the discharge of duty, she accomplished more than anyone else could for the relief of the wounded, besides being a constant example and embodiment of earnestness for all. Her ministrations were always grateful to the wounded men, who devotedly loved her for her self-sacrificing spirit. Said one of the Fifth New Jersey in our hearing, “There isn’t a man in our regiment who wouldn’t lay down his life for Miss Gilson.”
But Gilson’s crowning work was performed during the last series of battles in the war, the Overland Campaign. Fought entirely in Virginia, from the Battle of the Wilderness to Spotsylvania Court House to Cold Harbor to Petersburg to Appomattox, this campaign was marked by almost a year of constant fighting, and ended the most destructive war of modern times. Gilson took the field with Mr. Fay at the beginning of the campaign, and was tireless in her efforts to relieve the suffering caused by those horrible battles in May of 1864, in which the dead and wounded were numbered by scores of thousands.
Not until the battles of June 15 through June 18 of 1864 had there been any considerable number of the colored troops among the wounded of Army of the Potomac. In those engagements and the actions immediately around Petersburg, they suffered terribly. The wounded were brought rapidly to City Point, where a temporary hospital had been provided.
Helen Louise Gilson, Library of Congress
“It was, in no other sense a hospital, than that it was a depot for wounded men. There were defective management and chaotic confusion. The men were neglected, the hospital organization was imperfect, and the mortality was in consequence frightfully large. Their condition was horrible. The severity of the campaign in a malarious country had prostrated many with fevers, and typhoid, in its most malignant forms, was raging with increasing fatality.
These stories of suffering reached Miss Gilson at a moment when the previous labors of the campaign had nearly exhausted her strength; but her duty seemed plain. There were no volunteers for the emergency, and she prepared to go. Her friends declared that she could not survive it; but replying that she could not die in a cause more sacred, she started out alone.
A hospital was to be created, and this required all the tact, finesse and diplomacy of which a woman is capable. Official prejudice and professional pride was to be met and overcome. A new policy was to be introduced, and it was to be done without seeming to interfere. Her doctrine and practice always were instant, silent, and cheerful obedience to medical and disciplinary orders, without any qualification whatever; and by this she overcame the natural sensitiveness of the medical authorities.
A hospital kitchen was to be organized upon her method of special diet; nurses were to learn her way, and be educated to their duties; while cleanliness, order, system, were to be enforced in the daily routine. Moving quietly on with her work of renovation, she took the responsibility of all changes that became necessary; and such harmony prevailed in the camp that her policy was vindicated as time rolled on.
The rate of mortality was lessened, and the hospital was soon considered the best in the department. This was accomplished by a tact and energy which sought no praise, but modestly veiled themselves behind the orders of officials. The management of her kitchen was like the ticking of a clock—regular discipline, gentle firmness, and sweet temper always. The diet for the men was changed three times a day; and it was her aim to cater as far as possible to the appetites of individual men.
Her daily rounds in the wards brought her into personal intercourse with every patient, and she knew his special need. At one time, when nine hundred men were supplied from her kitchen (with seven hundred rations daily), I took down her diet list for one dinner, and give it here in a note, to show the variety of the articles, and her careful consideration of the condition of separate men.”
Through all the war, from the Seven Days’ conflict on the Peninsula in those early July days of 1862, through the campaigns of Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville and Gettysburg, and the fierce battles that were fought for the possession of Richmond and Petersburg in 1864 and 1865, Helen Gilson labored on until the end.
Through scorching heat and bitter cold, in the tent or on the open field, in the ambulance or in the saddle, through rain and snow, under fire on the battlefield, or in the more insidious dangers of contagion, she worked quietly, doing her part with all womanly tact and skill, until she finally rested, with the sense of a noble work done, and with the blessings and prayers of the thousands whose sufferings she has relieved, or whose lives she has saved.
As was the case with nearly every woman who cared for the sick and wounded, Helen Gilson suffered from malarious fever. As often as possible, she went home for a short time to rest and regain her strength, and it was those brief intervals of rest that enabled her to remain at her post until several months after General Lee’s surrender ended the war.
Helen Louise Gilson finally left Richmond in July 1865, and spent the remainder of the summer at a quiet retreat on Long Island, where she partially recovered her impaired health. In the autumn, she returned to her home in Chelsea, Massachusetts.
[Letterhead—US Sanitary Commission, Adams’ House, 244 F Street Washington D. C.]
November 18th 1862
My drew Little Chickadee—dees. I call you chicks because when I come to see you, you run like little chicks to their mother. I want to see you all very much for I work very hard and do not see many little children. I think every night that I wish I could hold you on my knees and talk to you and tickle you, but then I have only two knees and there are four children. I tell you how I should manage. I should hold Nellie and Carrie and then I should take Frank and Marian, if baby would come. Do not forget to sing your little songs—especially “the Ark.” You must learn some new ones so as to sing to me when I come home. I hope you are very good little children and do not quarrel. You must mind mother always the first time she speaks.
The other day your Aunt Tiny was riding in a wagon to find some sick soldiers when the naughty Rebels fired some brawny guns and killed two men very near to me, but your Aunt Tiny was not hurt and you know who took care of her and kept her from all harm. It was our dear Heavenly Father who loves us—-how much He loves us. We ought to be very good.
Carrie must write again. The letters were very neatly printed. Mother and Father must not help you or correct any mistakes. Now goodbye little children. Give my love to Grandma and Mother & Father. From your Aunt Tiny
Letter 2
[US Sanitary Commission Letterhead, Washington D. C.] April 15, 1864
Dear Mary,
I was very glad to get yours of April 7th although going to the ARmy it dd not reach me till yesterday as I came up from the Army on Tuesday last. Mr. Fay is still at the Front and will probably come up tomorrow. Then I shall be able to decide upon some course for myself. All ladies have been ordered away with much other extra baggage from the Army [of the] Potomac. It alters my plans materially and I am very much disappointed, I can assure you, but a few women have made trouble and the innocent must suffer with the guilty. There is a good field for labor among the Paroled Prisoners at Annapolis. Also I have had a call to go to Louisville, Kentucky but at present I am in chaos.
I received a most beautiful present of a diamond ring worth $110 and a Pearl Cross $100 the day before I came away. You can imagine I was delighted because it came from patients and officers of Potomac Creek Hospital.
I am glad to hear that Grandma’s foot is better. Give my warmest regards to her. Her journey on Earth has been a weary one, but there’s rest for the weary in Heaven.
I am glad Galen is improving so fast. He has harder battles to fight than some, to be sure. But every heart has its evil to conquer and we must all fight our battles daily, from Cyrus Hanks up to Dr. Bellows, and we all need to look up to a Higher Power to help us.
I am glad you are not going to move for you all enjoy the garden so much and you may now hope to gather your strawberries with your own hand,
I will send my drawers soon so that you may go on with the, I am glad you called on Delia. She has been kindly remembered by her friends and seems very happy. Their means are very limited, however, and they will have to economize. But Leander is enterprising and bound to get ahead. That is a good deal and while he tries to help himself, Mr. Fay will help him. Write me soon. Love to all the children and to Carrie. Very truly and affectionately your sister, — Helen
Letter 3
Addressed to Mrs. Galen Holmes, 65 State Street, Boston, Massachusetts
On Board Steamer Kent. off Port Royal [May] 1864
Dear Sister,
It is a long time since you have heard from me. Indeed, I have had no time for many letters until now that we are on board this steamer where we can breathe a spell. Our wounded are all removed from Frederickburg and today we leave this place for White House Landing—the scene of our old labors of two summers since. We left Fredericksburg Thursday, bringing down wounded and now we expect tonight to go to White House. Today I have been ashore with Prof. [John Potter] Marshall of Tuft’s College—Mr. Fay’s particular friend—and he has been making sketches of old buildings and beautiful scenery. You cannot imagine what a scene of confusion an Army Base is—wagons, mules, fresh troops, forage. barges and steamers throng the place and make a scene of great confusion, and yet with all this Army life, in twenty-four hours everything will have left and all will be quiet—not a sound to be heard in this lovely spot on the Rappahannock’s banks except the splash of the waves and the sighing of the breezes.
Our last wounded have gone off today from Port Royal and at present we are lying at the landing, just in sight of a whole boatload of Contrabands who are making themselves happy by departing to the land of Freedom.
We had a hard experience in Fredericksburg—never so hard, I believe. Mr. [William Alfred] Hovey was not able to come down, or rather was not able to stand the life, so he went home. I was sick two days after ten of hard days and nights too. I hope I shall not be so busy after this. We all seem to think that Grant will besiege Richmond and we hope it will be with but little bloodshed.
Give my love to Galen, Grandma and the little children, to Carrie, Gus, and little Meand. In this I shall send you $10 (ten) Boston money for the Drawers. It is coming summer and you will need it.
Affectionately your sister, — Helen
Letter 4
Colored Hospital, City Point, Va. August 2nd 1864
Dear Mary,
Yours of the 27th came yesterday and I was glad to get it indeed. It is terribly hot here and we have plenty work. We had a number of wounded came in yesterday to the Colored Hospitals. The negroes made a charge the day before. They told lively stories of the undermining of that fort, describing the scene in glowing colors—of frying pans and tin plates filling the air. It seems they surprised the Rebs at breakfast. [see Battle of the Crater]
I have little news but no matter. If my letter don’t contain the news, you won’t care—if it is only a word from me. It looks as if City Point would be a base for some time to come and we must have hard fighting I think to gain the end. You keep me posted on all the news of your family and the Hollis’s I am glad Sarah has taken a vacation and hope she will be quite alone.
I hope you will, or have seen Mr. Fay. He said he should call on you. I expect him back tomorrow. Howie did finely at his examination, it seems, and his father and mother have reason to be proud. Mr. Fay as usual ascribes all the praise to me saying, after speaking at the Exhibition, “I think you would have been proud if you had been here and you have a right to be for you helped to make Howie what he is—I have done less and claim no credit.”
So you see he appreciates my labors in behalf of his children. I am glad Frank and Carrie did so well. I want them to be good scholars for the more highly educated one is, they better they can fill any station in life. I will not except, the humblest.
I believe I did not tell you I had a letter from Susan. She sent me photos of her children and house. I will enclose them and you may take care of them for me. She is well and says she has no hard feelings toward you, but didn’t suppose you cared about her. Now I want you to write her for there is no earthly reason why there should be any break in our family of three sisters and I shall never recognize any.
Now the mail closes. With love to all, old & young, I am affectionately your sister, — Helen
Letter 5
Addressed to Mrs. Galen Holmes, Jr. 65 State Street, Boston, Massachusetts
Colored Hospital November 29, 1864
My dear Mary,
I wrote a long letter to Mrs. Hovey detailing my journey, requesting her to let you read it. Being an account of my travels—it may interest you. We arrived in Camp last Sunday week, a rainy day and cold. However, our reception was a warm one & that makes up for a great deal you know. If I ever have a home, I know I shall have a warm welcome to give my friends.
The Colored men and the Contrabands said they were “being glad to see Miss Helen and now day she’d come, ebery ting would go straight.” Every difficulty that had occurred during my absence in the contraband camp was left for me to settle. Several couples had quarreled and were contemplating a divorce but had concluded “dat Miss Helen mus’ be consulted” but my opinion was similar to that expressed by Aunt Charlotte some time since. I didn’t approve of Disvosements no how. We take each other for better or for wuss, and the Lord knows we often get the Wuss—so I advised my sable friends to bear with each other and pray always without ceasing—hoping for strength from on high. It is a hard doctrine to carry out—this learning to “labor and to wait” but the Lord knows how much fire we need that we may rid ourselves of our Evils and be purified.
We are just now having beautiful Indian Summer. Tis so warm that I am really uncomfortable with thick clothes. But I enjoy the warmth and the sunshine. I like the climate of the South and am invariably better here. When we arrived in camp, Mr. Fay had a new tent for me—and some Massachusetts men had built me a nice fireplace so that now we have an open fire every evening and that is a greater luxury than some millionaires enjoy.
A few days ago the Colored Troops were all transferred to the Army of the James under Butler and we are expecting to break up or rather transfer this hospital farther up the James river to that Department, but I think I shall settle this winter in some white hospital ay the Front. The fact is, I am not quite strong enough to work as hard this winter as I did this summer and I must take a smaller hospital where there will not be quite as much responsibility. I want to last till the war closes—if tis a possible thing.
Roger Atkinson Pryor (July 19, 1828 – March 14, 1919) was a Virginian newspaper editor and politician who became known for his fiery oratory in favor of secession. He entered the Confederate army as colonel of the 3rd Virginia Infantry Regiment. He was promoted to brigadier general on April 16, 1862. His brigade fought in the Peninsula Campaign and at Second Manassas. Pryor was captured on November 28, 1864, and confined in Fort Lafayette in New York as a suspected spy. After several months, he was released on parole by order of President Lincoln and returned to Virginia.
Mr. Fay continues well. Mrs. Fay is enjoying herself very much, and goes about the Wards assisting among the sick men. She has been to ride horseback and enjoys it much. Yesterday we took the Rebel General Roger A. Pryor prisoner. He came down to our picket line dressed in civilian’s clothes to change newspapers and was “gobbled up” according to Army phrase by our men. He hung his head as he walked onto the boat.
I hope this will find you all well and happy. My love to Grandma and the children. Your affectionate sister, — Helen
Tell Grandma at last I have found a Gregg. He is 2nd Lieutenant in the 61st Massachusetts and called on me today to say that he was related to Grandma but I was engaged at the time he called and didn’t see him. However, I shall have another opportunity as the regiment is encamped only about two miles from here.
Letter 6
[Editor’s Note: The following letter is courtesy the Senft Family who had it in their collection but didn’t know the author until I had published the previous letters of Nellie Gilson and found it with a ChatGPT search. It has now been transcribed and published with Nellie’s other letters by express consent.]
United States Sanitary Commission [letterhead] Tuesday, April 4th, 1865
Dear Mary,
I am almost allowing myself to get excited. Rumor says that Petersburg is evacuated and Lee surrendered. Oh! it cannot be. I cannot believe it. So long have we waited and hoped and almost fainted with heart-sickness as summer after summer saw the flower of our country lie low. How in one short day can this transpire? Oh! we must wait for confirmation. So short a distance from the Army Headquarters and yet to know nothing. But I will work and wait for wounded lie all about us.
Yesterday Mr. Fay walked through Petersburg with the troops, gathered a bouquet of hyacinths which he brought to me in a flower dish. He had some talk with an old man, grey with age, cultivated, intelligent, refined. He had always been a “Peace” man. My. Fay told him how business still flourished at the North, how the might & strength of our Nation had not yet come to war, how nearly all our men were volunteers—not conscripts, and [he] said to Mr. Fay, “Well sir, you must kill—eliminate them. ‘Tis the only way, and the sooner you do it, the better. They will never surrender.”
Mr. Fay walked through the whole city. It is very pretty—but little burned. Only the stall houses [?], &c. The negroes were exclaiming, “Bress de Lord, He hab answered de prayers of de colored race.” I have seen nothing as yet. Am too busy receiving the wounded at this hospital. Richmond is certainly ours and today passes have been granted to go up there. I am dying to see the place but duty keeps me here. I have fed 700 men three times today. Today I catered for them 300 lbs. roast beef, mashed potatoes, fried fish farina, tea, coffee, toast, oysters. Of course every man didn’t have all, but all these were divided. Last night we retired at 10 o’clock. Up at 5 this morning. ‘Tis now eleven so I will make the letter short and say goodnight hoping you are having some improvement in your hand, Affectionately, — Nellie
The following letter was written by William Oren Ensign (1841-1918), the son of Caleb Wadhams Ensign (b. 1790) and Orpha Deming (b. 1795) of Madison, Lake county, Ohio. William enlisted on 20 August 1862 to serve as a corporal in the 14th Ohio Independent Battery—a light artillery unit. He was in the battery for three years, mustering out in August 1864. Serving with him in the same battery was his younger brother, Herbert Dwight Ensign (1844-1898).
“Removing to Illinois in 1865, he again engaged in teaching, after which, in June, 1866, he entered the office of Dr. Henry A. Almy, of Rutland, Ill., …During the lecture course of 1867-’68, he matriculated in the Charity Hospital Medical College, now University of Wooster, Cleveland, Ohio, pursing the study of medicine between courses, until graduation, …After graduation, Feb 25, 1868, Dr. Ensign returned to Rutland, Ill., where he has since been engaged in the general practice of medicine …Married, in 1869, Miss Frances J., second daughter of the late Dr. Henry A. Almy, of Rutland, Ill.” [Source: Find-A-Grave]
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Addressed to Miss Alta Ensign. Madison, Lake county, Ohio
14th Battery, OVA Lynnville, Tennessee December 18, 1863 Via Nashville
Dear Niece,
Both your letter and Clara’s mailed at Madison December 2nd have just been received, and I cannot account for so great a delay unless they have been to Memphis on their way; therefore in the future, direct according to the above address and if the letters do not come through in good time, then we will try another address. I have been looking for your letter some time before I received it and at last it has come. We now have a mail every other day and I can only compare mail days here to Valentine’s Day at home when all the school children hang about the post office and there is full as much joy over the reception of a letter here as a valentine by children at home.
Clara says that you sent me a Tribune for which I am much obliged to you. It has been received and I could not think who it came from unless Hattie for she is the only person who has sent papers to me heretofore. We Nashville, Louisville, and Cincinnati papers here occasionally for only ten cents per copy. I have serious thoughts of taking the Tribune for the six monthsto come as I am anxious to know what Congress is up to.
The weather here is quite pleasant and I have not seen a snowflake this season and I hope I shall not be troubled with a great many this winter. I think very likely Aunt Augusta Safford will be very apt to hear from me if she desires it so much. I will commence today to look for a letter from John Safford and continue to do so until it comes.
Yourself, Clara, and Orpha must have fun times this winter attending school at Seminary. I shall never forget the happy hours I have spent at that notorious seat of learning for the township of Madison and vicinity.
Herbert went up to Columbia a day or two ago and as he is writing you a letter today, I suppose he will tell you all about it, and how dry he was when he got back.
The railroad is not open along here yet but we confidently hope that it will be in a few days when we shall seem to be considerable nearer home. When the railroad is really opened, however, we shall probably leave here to go to Columbia or the other side of Pulaski—I hope to the former.
I am sorry that our own state is not able to keep John H. Morgan after he was captured and duly turned over to the authorities for safekeeping. Canadian conspiracies seem to be checked for the present and I hope forever. The President’s Annual Message has been lain before Congress and it is sound to the core. We ought to be thankful that we have such an honest, upright and able man in the Presidential chair.
Knoxville is safe and Longstreet fleeing from pursuit. His East Tennessee campaign is an utter failure. Good! I see that Mr. Foote of Tennessee, a member of the Rebel Congress, has offered some resolutions before that body in regard to the exchange of prisoners which looks towards a recognition of our colored soldiers as such. I like the President’s determination not to exchange unless every man who wears the blue uniform is recognized as a soldier of the United States.
Well, I must come to a close. Write often. Remember me to your parents and all the friends also to Grandmother Safford. I will write to Clara so as to have it go out with mail.
Colonel Alexander Gardiner, 14th New HampshireInf.
The following letter was written by Alexander Gardiner (1833-1864), the son of James Dempster Gardiner (1806-1853) and Emeline Graham (1806-1872) of Catskill, Greene county, New York. He practiced law in New York City for a while, and from there he moved to Osawatomie, Kansas, in 1856 with the intention of publishing a free state newspaper but was foiled by pro-slavery men before he published his first issue. He was married to Mary Powers Cooper (1834-1898) in 1859 in Croydon, New Hampshire and then settled in 1859 Claremont, N. H. In 1863 he joined the 14th New Hampshire Volunteers as adjutant and later became its Colonel. He was killed in action on 7 October 1864 in the Battle of Winchester. Gardiner was made Brigadier General by Brevet on 18 April 1867.
This letter is from the personal collection of Jim Doncaster and was transcribed and published on Spared & Shared by express consent.
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Addressed to Ira Colby, Jr., Esq., Claremont, New Hampshire
Headquarters 14th New Hampshire Vols. Harpers Ferry, West Virginia February 13th 1864
My Friend Colby,
I received a letter from Freem. last evening dated 8th inst. As I wrote to him early in the week informing him in relation to some matters of which he now inquires, and as I had designed writing to you at this time, I will let this serve as a letter to you and as an acknowledgement of his communication. First and most important, I wish to ask you to look after the check list and see that Coopers, Vaughans, and my own name is upon it for I think it quite probable that we may all be home to vote at March meeting, although of course in the army nothing is certain. When I was home last, someone intimated to me that I was not a voter in Claremont because my family were in Croydon. If I have not a right to vote in Claremont, then no one has. I am a resident of Claremont today as much as I ever was. All my books, harness, sleigh, wash-tub and cooking stove remain in Claremont. My family are in Croydon awaiting my return to Clarement, and from the day I first settled there nearly five years ago, I have never had any other home of my own and no present intention of having any other. I have no idea [if] they would let me vote in Croydon and I certainly have no desire to do so.
Unless something new turns up, we expect to remain in this vicinity towards April and hten to be off to New Orleans to which place we are still under orders. I don’t like the idea of going so far from home but then I find that my wishes and desires are not very likely to be consulted and so I try and make the best of it.
Please tell Freeman that I have no desire to purchase the house occupied by Walter Smith unless it can be got at a bargain sufficient to make it worth while.
Success to the “Young Men’s Working Club.” Anything that has Young Men about it I am in for strong. Joe Weber, Ed Baker and all the other “old fogies” to the contrary, notwithstanding. Tell Freem. to say to Mr. Putnam that I wish he would let the office, by all means, if he has an opportunity. The books and cases I should prefer to be stored or put in your office unless they are perfectly safe where they are and Mr. Walker consents to have these remain which belong to him.
This is an awful Department for bushwhacking, scouts and small excitement. Yesterday morning the train going north to Cumberland was thrown from the track and the passengers rolled. The same night a party came within half a mile of Snicker’s Gap where a picket from our regiment was stationed and did some slight stealing in the way of horses. We have nearly 200 men some 10 miles up the Shenandoah on picket since yesterday. I understand tonight that part of them have gone out further with cavalry and artillery after some of the thieving dogs. Sweet chase is it not? Infantrymen vs. horsemen.
Col. Wilson came up Thursday morning and I was happily ready to turn over to him everything that I took from Washington and all in good condition, but he was not much better than when we left him and at his request I continue in command.
I wish, my dear fellow, that you would come out and make us a visit. You shall have my best horse to ride and I will promise to try hard and make it pleasant for you. Won’t you come? Remember me kindly to my friend Freem. and believe me to be your sincere and grateful friend, — Alexander Gardiner
Ira Colby, Jr., Esq.
P. S. Isn’t is a burning shame that such a “Poodle” as Ben Tucker Hutchins is appointed Lt. Col. of the new cavalry regt. in New Hampshire while hard working, brave, faithful Ed Vaughan with more manhood in his little finger than Ben has in his whole body is left a simple Lieutenant?
9 p.m. Just closing this letter when I received orders to proceed forthwith to Washington. — A. G.
The following letter was written by David Spalding (1843-1924), the son of Calvin Spaulding (1820-1897) and Malissa Hatt (1820-1904) of Deerfield, Livingston county, Michigan. David enlisted on 15 August 1862 as a private in Co. E, 26th Michigan infantry. He was wounded on 12 May 1864 at Spotsylvania Court House, Virginia, and discharged on 4 Jun 1865.
When David wrote this letter in mid-February 1863, the 26th Michigan was assigned Provost duty at Alexandria.
To read letters by other members of the 26th Michigan Infantry that I have transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see: George Nelson Chalker, Co. B, 26th Michigan (1 Letter); and Nelson W. Shephard, Co. C, 26th Michigan (13 Letters).
Members of Co. B, 26th Michigan Infantry, posed for this portrait about September-October 1862—soon after their enlistment. They are, from left: Corp. Henry Arnold (1838-1885), who received a disability discharge in October 1863; Drummer Alva O. Brooks (1851-1917), who departed the regiment in October 1862 with a discharge by order of Gov. Blair; and Sgt. Henry Chapin Smith (1837-1864), who died of wounds received during the Battle of Spotsylvania and was buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Courtesy Archives of Michigan, 347NMC, Civil War Photographs, File 137.
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Camp near Alexandria, Virginia February 13, 1863
Dear Cousin.
I received your letter. I was glad to hear from you. I am well only I have a bad cold so that I can’t sleep nights. It is a very fine day. I t is like May but you said that you supposed that we did not have no snow. It has snowed here some days as bas as it ever did in Michigan. The weather is very changeable here.
You said that you wanted me to send my likeness to you but I cannot send it today for we have not had a cent of pay in 5 months. I would like to send it to you in this letter. I have not heard from home in a month. I have written two letters & [ ] four & we have not had an answer yet. I look every day foor a letter but when the mail comes, there is nothing for me. A letter is the only thing that contents my mind. If I don’t have a letter from home before long, I shall think that they have forgot how to write.
I suppose that you would like to know the prices here. I will give the price of a few things. Butter 40 cents per pound, cheese 25, eggs 40 cents per dozen, apples two for 5 cents, and onions the same. I had rather be where I could eat a apple when I wanted but I hope that I will have the good luck to see Michigan again. I would like it well enough if I was well & could keep in good health.
Julia, you said that if I wanted things, to write. As for socks & mittens, I can get along well enough for a while. When I want some socks, I will write. I will try to get my likeness taken so that I can send it in the next letter to you. I don’t know as I [have] anything more to write this time. I thought some of having you send me a box of dried fruit but I do not know how much it would cost to send them or how much they would cost there a bushel. I wish you would write & tell me how much it would cost for the fruit if I could get a small box so that they would come cheaper than I can get it here. I don’t know but what I will have you send a box but you can write & tell me about it. I can send you the money for it out here for I guess that we will have some money before a great while. No more at present. Goodbye. — David Spalding
Direct your letter to Washington D. C., 26th Regiment Michigan Infantry, Co. E
The following letter was written by Benjamin Morris Gauldin (1808-Aft1860), the son of Josiah Gauldin (1770-18330 and Serriah Seay (1776-1820) of Gravel Hill, Buckingham county, Virginia. Benjamin was married to Franccs C. Snoddy (b. 1813) in 1836. Benjamin wrote the letter to his nephew, Josiah Hendrick (b. 1821)—the son of Matthew Hendrick and Frances Gauldin—who was a Missouri resident in 1841.
In 1860, Benjamin was enumerated in Jefferson, Saline county, Missouri, as the owner of seven slaves ranging in age from 1 to 27.
Benjamin datelined his letter from the Buckingham Female Collegiate Institute in January 1841. We learn from the letter that he was living at the Institute and in partnership with Samuel Benjamin Rush Loving (1813-1896) in some sort of merchandizing.
Benjamin’s letter speaks of the inheritance of slaves as part of an estate and also of the hiring out of slaves to others when not needed for the owner’s own labor.
The Virginia General Assembly officially incorporated the Buckingham Female Collegiate Institute on January 13, 1837, making it the acknowledged first chartered college for women in Virginia.
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Addressed to Mr. Josiah Hendrick, Lafayette county, Missouri
Female Collegiate Institute, Buckingham, Gravel Hill [Virginia]
Josiah, I received your letter & was very glad to hear that you & all my friends were well. I am well at this time. I saw John yesterday & he said his family was well & R___ings also. Mary Sedy has another boy. John has sold Caroline & her children. He is living in Amelia near Gin at the wil stop there. I am living at the Female Institute, merchandizing with a man by the name of S.B.R. Loving—a man in high standing. We have sold a great many goods this fall.
You wish to know about Robert & Martha Susan. Martha Susan is boarding with me at Mr. Loving’s & Robert James is living with Lundy Davis this year, free of charge for schooling & board. If nothing happens next year, I will put him in our store. We have had a division of old Mrs. Hendrick’s Est[ate] & you can’t conceive how trifling it was. There was a Bond of your Pa’s for 76 dollars unpaid & any bad claims that seem to be just. The decision was I got Edy & 75 dollars, valuation $325 dollars.
My Dear son, I have done all I can for you all & I am in hopes that you all will be satisfied with me. I will go on to state to you & when you receive this letter you must let me know how you like my proceedings to give me satisfaction. I have hired out Lucy for 50 dollars, Bet for 40 dollars, Edy for 42 dollars [and] 50 cents. Mary & children for 10 dollars. Chany & child for 00.00. These things I keep in a book to show. If death don’t take place, I mean to make a lady of Pat. Our chance is good. She learns very fast indeed. If you think you can do better here than there, you can come in the spring. I will do all I can for you if you come. I would be glad to see you. Give my love to all my friends & tell them to write to me, if they please. Tell Brother Willis if I could lay my arms around his shoulder once more, I should feel happy.
I would have wrote to you sooner but I thought I would wait until the division was over. Now when you get this letter, you must write to me & don’t write me short letter but write me what all my brothers is doing for you know it will be a pleasure to me to hear from them all & let me know what you are getting & if you intend to come into Virginia. Write me words as I may know. Direct your letter to Gravel Hill P.O., Buckingham. I have nothing more to write but remain your sincere Uncle until death, — Benj. M. Gouldin
The following document appointing an Executor to his Estate was composed and signed by Capt. Virgil Adam Stewart Parks of Co. D, 17th Georgia Infantry in December 1862. Parks was killed on the second day’s fight at Gettysburg—shot through the head. The following biographical sketch was posted on Civil War Talk:
Born in 1836 and while yet a small boy, Virgil A. S. Parks moved with his family from Georgia to Texas. His mother died soon after reaching Texas. His father remarried, but he also died a short time later. His step-mother took him to Arkansas, but then she departed for the North, leaving Virgil behind. Poor and sickly, with only a few cents in his pocket, he still succeeded in reaching relatives in Georgia. Virgil reportedly had one brother and two sisters, although there is no indication that they were close either physically or emotionally. But something in Virgil’s personality or demeanor must have been engaging, since he made some powerful friends in Georgia, including Judge Linton Stephens, who came to his assistance and helped him get through school and into college.
In 1861, Virgil graduated from Franklin College (now the University of Georgia) with a law degree. A college catalog entry states simply: “Cuthbert, Ga., Editor, Teacher, Andrew Female Coll.” The Andrew Female College (now Andrew College) was chartered in 1854. Affiliated with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, it was only the second college in the United States to confer degrees on women. His association with the Andrew Female College is unclear, because in early 1861 Virgil moved to Bainbridge, Georgia and began a practice with law partner William O. Fleming (who afterwards became a field officer in the 50th Georgia and served at Gettysburg as captain of Company F). At this time Virgil also met John M. Potter, who later described him as a “high minded, modest, honorable man, and a consistent Christian.” Virgil had previously received favorable attention from the Hon. A. H. Stephens (afterwards Vice President of the Confederacy), and T. R. R. Cobb (afterwards a Confederate officer and brother of statesman Howell Cobb). Powerful and influential friends indeed.
If Virgil found some measure of happiness and contentment in his new profession, it was tragically all too brief. On August 13, 1861, he enlisted at Bainbridge as the 1st Lieutenant of Company D, 17th Georgia, which became part of Brig. Gen. Henry L. Benning’s brigade. He received a promotion to Captain on January 20, 1863.
Capt. Virgil A. S. Parks had a natural gift for writing, and during his military service he regularly submitted well-received articles to the Savannah Republican newspaper, becoming one of their finest correspondents attached to Gen. Robert E. Lee’s army. See @lelliott19 posts on his experiences: https://civilwartalk.com/threads/17…-usmr-stolen-4-july-1862.149223/#post-1880155, https://civilwartalk.com/threads/50…-foxs-gap-and-sharpsburg.159534/#post-2083409 and https://civilwartalk.com/threads/2nd-and-20th-georgia-at-burnside-bridge.168585/#post-2192710. Parks’ final contribution was written from Chambersburg, Pennsylvania on June 28, 1863, which the paper published on July 20. He described the men being compelled to wade the Potomac without being allowed to strip, but receiving a ration of whiskey upon reaching the Maryland side, which made everyone either jolly or troublesome. While passing through Greencastle, Pennsylvania, the band of the 2nd Georgia played “Dixie,” while quartermasters and commissary officers scoured the countryside for horses, mules and cattle. He called out the 38th Virginia, assigned to provost guard duty in Chambersburg on June 27, for entering the stores and taking everything they wanted, although members of his own brigade completed the looting the next morning. Parks also wrote of a “respectable young man in the 15th Georgia,” who informed him that the streets were “strewn with gloves and fragments of goods.” Parks was evidently appalled and he expected Gen. Lee to punish those responsible.
Map showing location of 17th Georgia near Plum Run in front of the Devil’s Den on 2 July 1863
Following Parks’ death on the second day at Gettysburg, the paper printed three testimonials on August 7 and 11, from Linton Stephens, John M. Potter and Lt. John Henry Martin. Martin succeeded Parks as captain of the company, and related his last hour or so among the living: “Capt. Parks was wounded when we first entered the field [likely by artillery fire], but remained in command until we had charged the battery [Smith’s 4th New York at Devil’s Den] and ran the Yankees off the hill [Houck’s Ridge]. He was then persuaded to go to the rear. He started back, saying that he would shelter himself behind a rock; that was the last that any of the company saw of him until after the firing had almost ceased, when we were informed that he was killed – he was found in the most dangerous and exposed spot on the field. He was shot through the head. I have been told by one who saw him fall that he was instantly killed – having fallen without speaking. His loss to the company is great, and in conjunction with his friends and relatives we mourn his loss. He was truly a Christian soldier, and exerted a beneficial influence in the circle in which he moved.”
Virgil A. S. Parks’ remains were never identified. The attached map depicts the situation at 6:10 p.m. on July 2, a few minutes after Brig. Gen. Ward’s brigade was driven from Houck’s Ridge, when Capt. Parks sought refuge behind one of the many scattered boulders that covered the exposed eastern slope of the ridge.
Great painting by Bradley J. Schmehl of the 17th Georgia fighting in front of the Devil’s Den at Gettysburg on 2 July 1863. Capt. Parks was slain on the battlefield fighting in the “War of Independence and Southern Rights,” as he termed it.
Curiously, this document appears to have been excised from a Decatur county ledger book. There are partial entries on the back side pertaining to the Last Will and Testament of Sarah McGriff, dated April 1863. The court house was located in Bainbridge, Georgia, where Parks practiced law before the war.
Transcription
To all whom it may concern. Whereas in the Providence of God it may please Him to call me hence before the close of this War of Independence and Southern Rights by permitting the enemy to slay me upon the field of battle or allowing the fell diseases of the camp or hospital to end my life, I therefore after committing myself to the mercy and goodness of our God, do hereby appoint John M. Potter of Bainbridge, Ga., my lawful Executor to collect all wages, moneys, or claims due me from any sources whatever to apply said claims to the payment of my debts, and I request my said Executor to settle and pay off all debts and claims against me to the fullest extent of my efforts.
Further, I bequeath, give and grant unto the said John M. Potter all my private papers MSS and all private property, clothing, and accoutrements which may be in my possession at the time of my decease as aforesaid and further I request him to advertise for my trunk marked with my name and lost in Augusta in February last which said trunk contains the above bequeathed property, &c. In witness whereof I have this the thirteenth day of December, eighteen hundred and sixty-two set my hand and seal. Virg. A. S. Parks (Seal)
The following letters were written by a semi-literate English emigrant named Samual Durant (1819-1862) who enlisted at Fulton, Oswego county, New York, on 13 September 1861 as a private in Co. C, 81st New York Infantry. He was transferred to Co. G on 6 February 1862. He died of chronic diarrhea on 20 September 1862 at Philadelphia. He’s buried in the National Cemetery at Philadelphia, Section B, Site 406.
On the 21st of February the regiment was ordered to New York City, and then proceeded on the 5th of March to Washington, D. C. There the men remained in camp twenty days, and on the 28th of March, marched to Alexandria Va., where they embarked for Fortress Monroe, arriving on the 1st of April—just three weeks after the famous battle between the ironclads that captured the imagination of the public. Samuel’s description of the USS Monitor is classic: “She looks like a mud turtle with a barrel on his back. I can’t see nothing but her hump stick up out of the water. She is wicked. They are all afraid of her…”
From their landing at Newport News until May 31st the regiment was on the march or in camp, acting as reserve at the battle of Williamsburg Va., and reaching Seven Pines on the 28th, where they remained until the bloody engagement of the 31st was fought. In this battle the 81st was assigned to the left of Casey’s Division, unsupported in an open field. The regiment here underwent its baptism of fire and stood the ordeal heroically.
To read letters by other members of the 81st New York Infantry that I’ve transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see: Horace Benjamin Ensworth, Co. B, 81st New York (1 Letter); Horace Benjamin Ensworth, Co. B, 81st New York (4 Letters); Marshall S. Moses, Co. E, 81st New York (1 Letter); Franklin Darius Sizer, Co. I, 81st New York (1 Letter); and Dexter Samson, Co. K, 81st New York (1 Letter).
Letter 1
Headquarters, Camp Dutton 81st Regiment, Company G, NYV. April 14, 1862
Dear daughter,
I take [this] opportunity to write to you. [I] take it from Albany. We march in the night to New York by railway in the morning & daylight. Laid there two days, then went on to Staten Island. Laid there 8 days, then [at] 4 o’clock in the afternoon, took a boat 25 miles and then took railway to the Delaware river, crossed that and a steamer to Philadelphia and a loyal place that was too. [The] saloon was a Cooper’s Shop. It was so large that we had a 11 hundred men all eat at one long table and we had everything the good. All regiments [that] pass through [Philadelphia] is fed by the corporation and all took pleasant good talk to boys.
Away we go for Baltimore and a fine country it was too, houses and other buildings painted white. The grass by the side of the road was on fire more than a 100 times. We come to a place called Mule City by ingen [?] I should think. They said there was 14 hundred mules and such—a sight you never saw, Great homely wagons, 6 mules make a team, one line on the leader and a saddle on the pull mull. The man sits this [ ] and [ ] is all I can make out. I tell you, he looked like a monkey on a hand organ. I wish you uncle James Harmon was here to see them. I tell you, we would have a laugh about it. I saw a team run away across the corn stubble. The wagon went bump, bump, bump. The boys all a laughing.
I have been down to the river and saw the Cumberland lay there sunk by the Merrimack. She is a iron-cladded rebel steamer. We have got the Monitor up there and she looks like a mud turtle with a barrel on his back. I can’t see nothing but her hump stick up out of the water. She is wicked. They are all afraid of her and [ ] battery that go by steam and [ ] chisels. And then we have got the Vanderbilt. If they attack us now they will smell powder. They keep playing round. I saw where they had two cut one [ ] off, killed two men and never touched them—the air knocked them dead. We had 11,000 men in one Division. I tell you, that made a show, and there was five thousand at that camp [which] is called Newport News.
All round us the fences are all burnt. I saw a wheat stubble and stacks of wheat knocked down, corn stubble and stalks and stacks of corn stalks but this is the pleasantest country I ever saw in my life. It is a good country for grain and potatoes. We [ ] cows nor hogs. We have two darkies follow us from [ ]. We keep them along with us. They cut wood, carry water. They are smart. We have tents now. The boys [ ] then about 3 miles and [ ]. I got up at light and take a black brand [?], named it Fort Spencer, Harpers ferry brew. Put on the Orderly….
Please send me particulars about your trade and where you [ ]. Excuse my writing and spelling. I must close my letter. Give my love to all my friends. I remain yours, — Samuel Durant
Letter 2
May 11th 1862
Dear daughter,
I take the pleasure to write to you to let you know I got back to my regiment last Saturday. I was very tired. The fever was leaving Robert on Saturday morning. I left him about 5 o’clock. I got to the regiment at 3 o’clock. The cannons was roaring all night. I didn’t sleep at all. The balloon went up in the night. They han’t got no light in camp so early.
The Sunday morning we started for the forts [at Yorktown], they had all left. As we were going along, I heard a report like a cannon. I thought [maybe] they was not gone, but when I got a little farther, I saw a man laying there badly wounded. There was one killed and 7 badly wounded. They had buried bomb shells in the road and all along where they thought we would go. As soon as you touch one of them, off they go. I say, “G. Van Pattan, what’s the matter?” [He said,” “see them shells buried, mind you [don’t] step on them. We had to be very careful.
Well, we traveled all day through forts and rifle pits until night and then laid down until 3 o’clock and then went back 8 miles in the rain. It rained all day and about all night. I was wet to my skin and my coat was so wet that I could barely carry it. I had to go in the dar, to a tree, chop some wood to be warm. There was firing all day just ahead of us. In the morning we marched round to get on the east side of them but they was just one day too fast. They had to fight like the devil to win. They did fight too, I tell you.
McClellan was up in the balloon. He see the Louisiana tigers come out of the woods put down the balloon. Our army is whipped. When he got there they had [ ] them all to pieces. The officer gave up his sword and said you have whipped the best regiment in the Confederate army. It is a very large field, I should think 1,000 acres. I should think and a 100 acres of wheat and corn. I don’t know but their five forts, ditches round 15 feet deep they got in there. Our boys got on one shoulder and the gun in the other hand and away they run, throwed the rails across the ditch [and] over they went [ ] them out. They took some prisoners but how many I don’t know. I saw 150 wounded rebels in one barn & shed. The doctors cutting off legs and arms, some screaming all night. That was on Wednesday night. I couldn’t sleep.
Next morning I got up and went off to south and west of the field. I come to a [ ] and then I come to a horse shot down, three or four in a mud hole with the harnesses on. They was the muddiest lot of horses and men I ever saw in my life. I saw the Michigan 5th, I think it was, all shot to pieces and bayonet[ed]. They was too fast. Had their knapsacks on all in the rain and mud. They was all muddy. 1
I just now read your letter. I felt glad to hear from you. I heard from Robert just before. He is better. I wish we get our pay so he could have some to get some things. I left all I could spared with Ed and I tell you that we are to march on the road to Richmond. They are not far ahead of us. Our boys are dragging [?] out all the time. We can’t get half enough to eat. The teams can’t get along with it. I would rather have seen wheat. I have seen the last 500 dollars but I have seen hard times. I received a letter from E. Carrier. He has received 35 dollars. From S. Durant
1 “The next major battle that the Fifth Michigan took part in was the battle of Williamsburg. The Union general wanted to attack the center of the Confederate line, which was heavily fortified by Fort Magruder. This proved to be too much for them and they were forced to turn back. This gave the Confederates a clear advantage and they decided to do a countercharge. The Confederates were able to capture a Union battery and fire upon the retreating Union soldiers. This is where the “Fighting Fifth” first earned its nickname. Once the Fifth saw what was happening, they fired upon the Confederates at the Union battery, then charged them. This shocked the rebels, resulting in them fleeing the battery. After which the Fifth started taking fire and many casualties from Confederates. To overcome this, another charge was called for, and the Fifth ended up in the rebel trenches, taking prisoners and displacing the Confederates. If it was not for their valor, the outcome of the battle would have been very different. It is reported that after the second charge they held their position for six or seven waves of attacks, incurring up to fifty percent casualties. This is the reason why the Fighting Fifth is such a notable regiment. Within their first battle, they showed gallantry and guts to overtake the Confederates with not only one, but two charges against the odds. Not only did they prove themselves at Williamsburg, but they did so too during other battles as well.” [See The 5th Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment during the Civil War.]
Spared & Shared 23 