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 sad Pennsylvania home front letter was written by 26 year-old Sarah Lucas (Sleek) Harbaugh (1836-1918), the wife of Amos Harbaugh (1838-1874) of Pleasantville township, Bedford county, Pennsylvania. She was the barely literate daughter of Samuel Mettler Sleek (1807-1873) and Lillianna Lucas (1807-1873) of Bedford county.
Sarah (or “Sallie”) wrote the letter to her brother-in-law, Jason Samuel Harbaugh (1843-1904) who was serving as a private in Co. A, 84th Pennsylvania who enlisted on 9 September 1861 and served until 24 October 1864.
Sarah’s husband, Amos Harbaugh served as a private in Co. I, 121st Pennsylvania from 16 October 1862 until 8 August 1863.
Transcription
Addressed to Mr. Jason Harbaugh, USA General Hospital, Little York, Pennsylvania
Pleasantville [Bedford county, Pennsylvania] December 16, [1862]
Dear brother,
I take up my pen to drop you a line to let you know that we are all well [at] present, hoping the same to you. I have the sad news to tell you that Lib was buried today and Nate’s wife was buried last Sunday and now Nate is left alone with his little family. He is as bad off as I am. I tell you Jason, it is hard. All my company is gone. I am left here alone. Lib got a letter from you last mail but she was not able to write. She sat up and read it. I said at the last of it don’t live and I suppose you didn’t think of her dying. And Mary has got it bad at this time and mother and Nat’s children had it but they are getting better. I don’t know where to go to first to wait on them. I am at Nate’s now. The good man is still gaining me my health. I still think he will not put more on us that we are all to care for. I don’t know what would become of me if me and [ ] were to get it. I tell you, it was a dar scene to see Libby and Becky buried both in one week. If Amos were here I wouldn’t get so lonesome. Agnes is up at your mother’s. Sophia too. Her up yesterday morning and I hant seen her since. It’s some lonesome without her. I think I must go up and see her today.
You must excuse me not writing sooner. The way things was here, I could not. I didn’t want to write till I could tell you about Lil. I can’t write much at this time. I hope I may be able to write more the next time. I am much obliged to you for your kind offer. I think I must bring my letter to a close. With these few lines, you have my best wishes. Write as soon as this comes to hand. — Sarah L. Harbaugh
The following letter was written by 2nd Lt. Hillary Kinkade Beyer (1837-1907) of Co. A, 90th Pennsylvania Volunteers. Hillary wrote his letter from the regimental encampment near Sharpsburg some three weeks after the Battle of Antietam. His letter contains a synopsis of the casualties sustained by the company and his cryptic characterization of the battle—“a hard fight and bloody one—such a field I never wish to see another like it.”
For a great article describing the role played at Antietam by the 90th Pennsylvania, readers are referred to David Welker’s “The 90th Pennsylvania Infantry in the Cornfield: ‘Solitary and alone, we gave and took our medicine.'” For his bravery on the field at Antietam, Hillary was later (1896) decorated with the Medal of Honor. His citation read: “After his command had been forced to fall back, Second Lieutenant Beyer remained alone on the line of battle, caring for his wounded comrades and carrying one of them to a place of safety.” The wounded soldier carried to safety was James H. Gouldy—one of the men mentioned in this letter. Gouldy had lain severely wounded in an artillery swept field, and Lieutenant Beyer braved a hail of cannon and rifle fire from the Confederates to drag him to safety (Private Gouldey would survive the war and live for many years after).
Hillary was the son of Francis Taney Beyer (1817-1838) and Mary Kinkade (1819-Bef1850) of Montgomery county, Pennsylvania. Hillary first enlisted in May 1861 in Co. A, 19th Pennsylvania (3-month) and was at the Battle of Bull Run. He reenlisted in the 90th Pennsylvania and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in September 1861. Hillary was wounded in May 1864 during the Battle of the Wilderness but recovered and mustered out of the service in late November 1864.
Hillary’s letter contains a marvelous handwritten muster roll of Co. A and the status of each member.
Your favor of 23rd I received last evening and was pleased to hear from you. The cause of me not answering your letter, Lieut. [Edmund J.] Gorgas informed me that he had written to you and mentioned the whereabouts of your trunk &c. and I thought it useless to say anything further.
We have passed through both battles [S. Mountain & Antietam] with the loss of 4 men—[John] Ruhl, [Augustus M.] Theiss, [George W.] Sutton, and [James H.] Gouldy, & [Albert] Ozias bruised in arm but with the company. I will give you an account of every man that is in the company—present and absent. We have some deserters—men that I expected more from but on the eve of an action, cowards will show themselves such and fall out of line with all kinds of excuse. The last fight, Co. A went on the field with 15 men all told [and] 1 Lieutenant—that is, the Battle of Antietam. A hard fight and bloody one—such a field I never wish to see another like it.
Our regiment is hard up for clothing and have quite a number sick. This day we sent three to the hospital—Rood, Schwartz, & Rutner. None of the recruits have reported to the company except [Emile] Coblentz. If you come soon, bring nothing but what you can carry in a valise. Don’t forget a tin cup and plate. We have none but what are old and in use. Do not encumber yourself with too many clothing is my idea. The officers tell me that a valise is all they are allowed to carry. Gorgas sends his respects. Trunk he does not know where it is. Expect in Washington somewhere.
— Hillary Beyer
Corp. Paul is at home so I have been informed. Richard Sanders was taken prisoner on the way to hospital at Manassas with a number of others. Brinker & Major are accounted for as present. We had not received official notice of discharge. John Anderson deserted in August and reported as such on 31st.
The state of Company A, 30th September. Rendered to Adjutant of Regiment. [Handwritten Roster]
The following letter was written by William Semple Ryland (1836-1906), an 1858 A.M. graduate of Richmond College where his father presided. William’s father, Rev. Robert Ryland, was a “prominent leader in Virginia and pastor of the large First African Baptist Church. He believed all people deserved equal access to biblical teaching while at the same time he enslaved people and hired them out to Richmond College and others in the region. He was in many ways a paradox, embracing spiritual equality while rejecting racial equality.” [Source: University of Richmond]
During the Civil War, William served the Confederacy as a Chaplain of the 13th Virginia Infantry. He later held pastorates in Frederick County, Virginia, Winchester, Virginia, Logan County, Kentucky, and Lexington, Kentucky. He was president of Lexington Female College 1877-1880 and of Bethel College 1889-1898 where he also was professor of natural science and chairman of the faculty.
William wrote this letter to Miss Evalina Peale (b. @ 1820) who lived four miles east of Staunton, Rockingham county, Virginia. She was the spinster daughter of Bernard Peale (1762-1818) and Catharine Newman (1776-1866). Her house burned down in 1867. Her brother, Jonathan Peale, had a home nearby (still standing) that served as Stonewall Jackson’s headquarters in the spring of 1862.
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Addressed to Miss Evelina Peel, Harrisburg, Va.
Harrisonburg [Virginia] November 29th 1864
Miss Evelina Peel,
I am informed by Mr. John T. Harris, lawyer of this place, that it is likely that you have in your employ a servant woman of Col. Wager’s, formerly of Culpeper county. The said woman, Martha Ann by name, was formerly living in this place, Col. Wager informs me, and requested me to learn what I could about her as he lost sight of her entirely some time ago. I would not intrude this matter upon you but for the Colonel’s being confined in camp & my having the opportunity to do him a favor so easily. Allow me to renew the expression of thanks to you for the kindness you exhibited to me last summer while the army was en route for Brown’s Gap and assure you that the good things you sent the wounded were highly appreciated and relished by them.
I am, Miss, with sentiments of high esteem, your obedient servant, — W. S. Ryland, Chaplain 13th Virginia Infantry
N. B. Col. Wager’s address is Co. B, 13th Va. Infantry, Pegram’s Brigade, Early’s Division.
The following letter was written by Wealthy Ann (Winchester) Anthony (1819-1886), the wife of Pvt. Francis Preceptor Anthony (1809-1884) of Co. L, 8th New York Heavy Artillery. 53 year-old Preceptor was working as a carpenter in Attica, Wyoming county, New York at the time of the 1860 US Census. The family must have relocated to Baltimore early in the Civil War, however, as Emily datelined her letter from Baltimore and the couple were enumerated there in subsequent census records. Preceptor began his service in Co. A, 105th New York Infantry but was discharged in February 1863 for disability. The 8th New York Heavy Artillery manned the Baltimore defenses; companies L & M joining the regiment in February 1864. In May 1864, the regiment was ordered to join the Army of the Potomac in the Overland Campaign and my hunch is that many members of the company left clothing and other unnecessary articles at the Anthony residence in Baltimore for safekeeping before going to the front.
The letter was directed to Emily (Seevey) Youngs (1823-1883), the wife of Isaac Youngs (1817-1904), of Le Roy, Genesee county, New York. Emily’s oldest child, Charles J. Youngs (1844-1864) enlisted on 4 January 1864 as a private in Co. L, 8th New York Heavy Artillery, but became ill in before Petersburg and was sent to a Washington hospital where he died on 3 August 1864.
Transcription
Addressed to Emily Yonges, Leroy, Genesee County, New York
Baltimore, Maryland October 12, 1864
Dear Friend.
After this length of time, I will answer yours and Deliom’s letter that came to hand informing me of Charles’ death in which I deeply sympathize with you in that great affliction. God only knows how soon I may have the same trials. God has promised to support us if we put our trust in Him & I hope we do. It is my desire to live for God.
You wrote for Charles’ things—his coat that was left here, but just before the regiment [left] that morning, the company was sent here to get their dress coats & hats. There was no hats left here but was some coats. But in Charles’ knapsack there was only one coat and one pair of pants. And in the little box there was nothing but straps and brasses and the Captain took them when he come here about 5 weeks ago. The coat & pants was the only kind of clothing they had here unless packed with some other mens for I can’t find any marked with Charles’ nor other name so I don’t know. But if you learn there is any amongst the others, you will surely get them. What there was I sent to Mrs. Smith but have not heard from her since I sent them.
We are all well as usual & hope this will find you in good health. I have not heard from my husband nor son for some time. They was well then. It is hard times here for everything is very high & I have not got any money from my husband since he left. I have been away to work by the day & got home so late at night I could not get time to write you before. My work has been putting up fruit for the soldiers this winter. There was 200 women to work at it. Now, Mrs. Youngs, if I find there is anything here, you shall surely have them & I will enquire of everyone that comes for their things. So I bid you good morning with respect & friendship, — Mrs. W. A. Anthony
Please remember me & write for I like to hear from friends. yours truly, — W. A. Anthony
The following letters were written by Edward H. Wade (1836-1897), the son of Amasa Dwight Wade (1795-1870 and Nancy A. Wait (1798-1859) of Northampton, Hampshire county, Massachusetts. Edward wrote the letters to his younger sister, Ellen Nancy Wade (1838-1887), while serving as a corporal in Co. F, 14th Connecticut Infantry.
Edward was working as a printer in Northampton when he enlisted as a private in the 14th Connecticut on 8 August 1862. He was promoted to corporal in early February 1863 and survived the war, mustering out at Alexandria, Virginia, on 31 May 1865. Following his discharge, Edward returned to Northampton, Massachusetts, and resumed his career as a printer.
[Edward’s account of the Battle of Chancellorsville. April 28th the regiment moved with the army on the Chancellorsville campaign, in which it saw hard service and lost seriously. At night, May 2d, it was sent with the brigade to the right to check the enemy and hold the ground after the disaster of the Eleventh Corps.]
Monday morning [4 May 1863]
Dear Ellen,
How can I write? Here I am beside the dead and wounded and I don’t know what to write. I sent you a letter Saturday and told you that need not worry about me that we should probably not go into the fight. But the rebels were strongly reinforced from Richmond that day, and so about 4 o’clock we had orders to go right off. We started and went right up to the point where our forces were fighting hard. We was not needed there, and so we went a little to the right in a field of woods. Here we staid all night and about once an hour, the rebels would fire a terrible volley into us. At one o’clock at night, however, they stopped and we had a chance to sleep about two hours.
Before we knew it, the Holy Sabbath sun dawned upon us. Oh, I cannot write about this day’s proceedings as I a want to—it was too horrible to relate. But I must let you know how it was.
We had just got up, and begun to make some tea, when all at once the rebels came down upon our Brigade and fired into us most terribly. We stood our ground well, and fired into them about a dozen times each when we had to retreat for they would have captured us all in 5 minutes if we hadn’t. Then the firing commenced from both sides and it was sad to see them fall on all sides of us. We formed again in a line and went into it once more, and give them all they wanted. We fought them hard and they got the worst of it all day. But think of the thousands killed today. While you at home are in the sanctuary worshipping God, you little imagine that we are on the bloody field of battle fighting.
I can’t write—tears are in my eyes. The 20th C. Volunteers are all cut up. Twelve of my best friends from New Britain were in it and eight are killed. Oh God, when will it be over with. We have had two wounded in our own company but 10 are missing and we cannot find any sign of them. The firing stopped [ ] o’clock last night and they have not commenced as yet this morning. Whether they will or not, I can’t tell. I think there will be more fighting yet but I don’t believe this regiment will go in again for they are badly cut up. I don’t know as I will have a chance to send this today. If I can’t, I will write again. Don’t fear for me. I am all right so far, Goodbye, — Edward
I can send this now so goodbye. I will write again soon.
Letter 2
Camp near Falmouth Va. May 21st 1863
Friend Nellie,
For as such I take the liberty to address you for I have heard your brother, who is a dear friend of mine, speak of you so often that I feel as though I had been acquainted with you for years, you must pardon me for thus intruding upon your time and attention. I should not have presumed upon the thought of writing to you but with the consent of your brother by whom I feel proud to be called friend. Yes, he is one whom anyone might feel proud to call him friend, and of whom any young lady might feel proud of as a brother. And I am glad to say that he is one who faithfully discharges his duties both to his God and his country, and the prayer of his humble friend is that he may be spared through all the trials and dangers of a soldiers life to return to his dear father and sisters and once more bring joy and happiness to their now lonely fireside. But if God should not see fit to reunite you on earth, may you all live so that at the judgement day you may meet an unbroken family around the mercy seat of God on high and may I be so happy as to be permitted to witness your joy. Such is the prayer and hope of your humble friend, — L. F. Norton
[In different hand]
Dear Nell: — Such are the remarks of a kind friend of mine who sat at my side this morning while I read part of the letter which I received from you last night, written on your birthday. After I read what I chose, he took a sheet of paper and asked what I wanted he should write to you. I told him anything he chose, when he took this sheet and wrote what is on it. It is very flattering to me, I think, but of course it is all the truth—it must be. Hain’t I a love of a feller! The writer is a mighty good fellow, and is now acting Orderly Sergeant of the company. I was not much acquainted with him in Connecticut but since we have come out here, we have tented together, and are now fast friends. I hope we may both live to return home, withal he may be enabled to visit us at our home, and then we will have a good old fashioned time. I calculate if I ever get home to have a good many friends who are with me here to make me a visit. I want to show you what the 14th is composed of and the first to visit me will be Lucius F. Norton.
Well, what shall I write to you about this time? I wrote to you the first of the week but I got a good letter from you last night and I cannot but answer it this morning. We are now in our new camp but probably shall not be here a week from today. Our Corp have orders from Gen. Hooker to do guard duty on the railroad running from Falmouth to Acquia Creek. We expect to go every day but we do not know the exact day we shall go. I hope it will be a good job for I am getting tired of this life while we are having such hot weather. We have to drill in the morning and afternoon and I think it is a little too hot for such work.
How do you think I look this morning? Well. I am loafing around the camp barefoot, shoes off, and pants and thin blouse on. We drew some nice summer blouses the other day and I got one of them. It is tremendous hot and I don’t know what we shall do this summer. We have drawn new knapsacks, blankets, overcoats, and shirts, and in fact everything that we lost—except Hepze. 1 I never shall see one that will equal her. I don’t feel reconcided at all. On the contrary, I am afraid it is wearing upon me. If I was sure that my loss would be her gain, I should feel a little better. But we know that the rebels hain’t got no hard tack nor coffee and so the poor little girl will have to suffer and perhaps die in the “Sunny South.” Tell Jennie not to mourn but keep up good courage. I suppose she is anxiously waiting for the 52nd to come home, ain’t she?
Remnant of the 14th Connecticut Battle Flag
Oh, the [blue] trefoil [badge] has come and suits me to a charm. I thank Mrs. Stone very kindly indeed for making it and I hope that all our friends will be rewarded greatly. When you get time, please make the others. I have placed it on my cap and it looks first rate—tip top—capital good! I am very glad and amply repaid in knowing that my letters reach you safely and that you think so much of them. I simply do what I consider my duty and I am glad that you appreciate my kind efforts.
But I have got to go to drilling now, and must close till night. I guess I will write another sheet. I will say that the envelopes came all right and shall be used. I last night got a Flag of the Union for which I thank you kindly. I shall mail you a Chronicle in the morning. Goodbye.
Thursday evening. Well, it is evening and I will now write you a few more lines. I have been made glad this afternoon in receiving a letter from our cousin Marietta at Florence. She writes a capital good letter and I shall answer it soon although I don’t know whether to direct it to Easthampton, Florence, Northampton, or Pugs Hole. Which is it? Won’t you let me know in your next? Ellen, I have had the best cup of coffee tonight that I ever drank. I want you and Jennie to try it and see if it isn’t beautiful. Fill your cup with coffee, then put in a piece of butter about as big as a walnut, then some milk, then break an egg, and put it in. Then sweeten it to your taste. Put in the old crusts and go ahead a drink it down. By jolly, ain’t it good! If eggs weren’t 80 cents a dozen, butter 70 cents a pound, and sugar 18 cents, a soldier even might enjoy himself. But no, it won’t do for them to enjoy themselves. They must be content with salt pork and hard tack. Well, it will all come out right after a while.
“The [Rappahannock] river is very narrow, and, if you believe it, the rebels and our men go in the water to bathe together. They enjoy themselves first rate and both parties are of the same opinion—that if they could decide this war there never would be a man shot.”
— Edward H. Wade, Co. F, 14th Connecticut, 21 May 1863
We now have to go on picket every other day and that with our guard and fatigue duty make it hard for us. We do not go now where we did before the recent battle. Where we go, however, is close to the [Rappahannock] river’s edge and the rebels are on the opposite side doing the same business that we are doing—picketing. The river is very narrow, and, if you believe it, the rebels and our men go in the water to bathe together. They enjoy themselves first rate and both parties are of the same opinion—that if they could decide this war there never would be a man shot. Some of our men went over to their side the other day, eat dinner with them, and then swam back. You can make up your minds that not much ill-feeling exists between two parties when such things can be done by these same parties. Then think of these same men going into battle together and shooting each other down—not because they want to, but because they are obliged to do so by their commanders. Nell, don’t you think it is high time that such a war should be stopped. I would as soon go across the river and make those men a visit as to go to the 37th Massachusetts or 20th Connecticut.
I have heard that Oliver is all right and glad am I to hear of it. Our two men who are missing have been heard from. They are paroled prisoners at Annapolis, Maryland. They were taken prisoners and have been paroled and can no longer fight till they are exchanged. There are seventeen of them that belong to this regiment. Most of the regiment that are here are well. A few are ailing. One has passed away this afternoon. He was a Sergeant. While over the river, he caught a hard cold which resulted in the Typhoid Fever of which he died today. He was an excellent soldier and beloved by his comrades and friends. But he has gone and friends must mourn but not without hope, for he was a devoted Christian. Such are the scenes we pass through on our onward march. God grant that when our turn shall come, we may be prepared to go even if it is on the battlefield.
I suppose Minyon’s folks are in deep affliction. It will be a sad blow to Alanson and Alfred. If I mistake not, it was four years today since we laid our mother in the grave. How many times I have thought of it the past week, I cannot tell, but her sickness and death has been in my mind lately a great deal. I wish I was where I could visit her grave occasionally. But dear Ellen, I know you will not forsake that sacred spot. Visit it often. Place fresh flowers on her grave and keep the grave in nice shape. Is that rosebush alive yet?
But I declare, Ellen, it is time I was to bed. Tomorrow I am to be on guard and I must have a little sleep. I will try and write again in a week. I wrote to Ivy a few days since and also Dwight. I am glad to hear that he still continues in his good resolution. I am sorry that father is not very well but I hope he will be careful of his health and soon be entirely well. Don’t forget to tell me Marietta’s address. Give my love to Jennie and your new friend Mrs. Stone. I shiould be glad to make her acquaintance and will if she will only come down here. But I cannot come there—that is certain. Give my kind regards to all the neighbors and tell them I am as well as ever and tough as a log. I saw a good notice in the paper about Edward B. Strong. I suppose that means Esther’s boy. How heroic he must be. Poor George Perigo. He is gone. We are losing friends fast on all sides. God grant that we may meet them safe in Heaven. Excuse all mistakes, Answer soon. And accept with great love. From your affectionate brother, — Edward H. Wade, Co. F, 14th Reg. Conn. Vols. Washington D. C.
Friday morning. It is a lovely morning and I have just had my breakfast. We had boiled potatoes and pork, and some more of that bully coffee. I declare, isn’t it good. It is 6 o’clock and I can imagine you in the garden making some flower beds or tending the garden. I would like to be with you but you will have to get along without me this year. Perhaps I will be with you next fall to help pull the cabbages and turnips.
We are going to have another hot day. I wish you would send me a half dozen needle fulls of thread, and a needle or so. I lost all mine, you know, at Chancellorsville. Our cavalry are doing dreadful damage to the rebel [ ] down south and I hope will continue so, and my earnest wish is that this wicked war may be wound up speedily. Write soon and give me all the news. Yours lovingly, — Edward
1 Possibly a dog mascot adopted by the company.
Letter 3
Louden Mills near Rapidan River, Va. Sunday, Sept. 20 [1863]
Dear Nell,
I now seat myself to answer your kind letter that I haven’t received lately. We do not get any mail at all now. Why, I cannot tell. Since writing last, we have moved from Slaughter Mountain and are nearer the rebels by 5 miles than we were then. We left that morning about 9 o’clock and came right here. We expected that the rebels would open a fire upon us, but they did not. We halted in a lot but before we had time to put up our shelter tents, it commenced to rain and you can just believe that it did rain for about an hour. It then slackened and we put up our tents, but we had no more than got them up when it commenced again and it rained hard and steady all night.
Now I come to a sad part of my letter, but it must be told. Friday, two men belonging to the 14th Regiment were shot for the crime of desertion. 1 They were two of the new men and were brought here about 6 weeks ago, but deserted in two days after they came here. They were found dressed in rebel clothes and after they had had a court martial, were sentenced to be shot on Friday, Sept. 18th in the presence of the Division to which they belonged. I did not wish to see it, but I could not help myself. At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, the whole Division, containing 12 regiments of infantry and two batteries of 6 guns each, were marched into a large open lot. Here we formed a hollow square. About 4 o’clock the guards who were detailed to shoot these poor men came marching along slowly, the two prisoners in the middle of the guard, and the 14th Band playing a funeral dirge. They reached the graves where the coffins were placed by the side of them. The Officer of the Guard then read the sentence of the court-marshal to the prisoners. The Chaplains of the 12th New Jersey and 14th talked and prayed with them and bid them a last farewell. The Officer of the Guard then stepped to them, tied a white handkerchief over their eyes, and shook hands with them, each on his own coffin. He then went to his guard, and gave them these orders: Ready, Aim, Fire! Owing to the terrible storm the night before, the powder in the guns was very wet and only two guns out of the twenty went off. One of the men was only shot in the arm and the other slightly in the head. But they must be shot, and so they fired again, and they had to shoot 12 different times before the poor men were killed. Oh it was dreadful to see the agony the poor men were in. One of them got off from his coffin, took off his handkerchief from his eyes and wanted to shoot himself, he was in so much misery.
After they were pronounced dead, the Division had to march past them and look at them. They were mangled terribly and I hope never to see another such a sight. The men were young—one of them being 22, the other 18. One of the men was a substitute, and the other—a nice looking young man of 19 who was unable to pay his $300—was drafted and had to come. This is what comes of the [ ] of the North, for if they would have been brave enough to come, there would have been no need of a draft, and no substitutes to hire, and there would have been two men more in the Union army.
But I will stop writing on this subject for it makes me sick at heart. When will the North open their eyes and see their danger. Well, we moved our camp from the wet lot to the woods and yesterday our Brigade were detailed to come out on picket and we are the outposts. The Rebel cavalry are close to us on picket also, and ew can talk to them if we choose. I don’t hardly think we shall fight here for the Rebels have a large force here, or across the river rather. They have got an excellent position and have got their rifle pits dug so that if we fought them, we should have to run a great deal of danger and I don’t believe that our Generals will be so foolish as to undertake to get them out of their rifle pits just now. We must flank them or they will give us fits. But I don’t know what they will do althoigh I hope they won’t try it in here.
I am very well. We had a cold night last night and fall is fast coming upon us. I guess we should have to stay here one winter more but I hope not. How do you all do? Oh, I wish I could see you and have a good talk. Wouldn’t our tongues go for a while? I bet you one thing is certain, if I am around here next winter, I shall get a furlough if it is possible. Oh, in my last letter I sent home a picture of a friend of mine who belongs to our company and who is now at home after conscripts. His name is Danford J. Davis. 2 Please save it for me for I want to keep it safe. Capt. [Samuel A.] Moore is going to give me his when he comes back and I shall then send that home. I wish I could get where I could have mine taken.
But I must close. The mail has come and brought me a letter from Marietta. None from you yet. I hope to hear from you soon. Give me all the news. Give my love to all the neighbors, to father and Suzy and Dwight and Olly. Excuse all mistakes and answer soon. I suppose Jennie has got my letter before this, has she not? I would write to Mr. Gus if I had time and could write as I wanted to and give him a description of the shooting of of those two men but it would take more time than I have to spare and I guess I will let it go. Tell father to give my love to Mr. Axtell and tell him I would like to hear from him. And give my love to all the neighbors. From your brother, — Edmund H. Wade
1 The two men from the 14th Connecticut executed on 18 September 1863 were Edward Elliott and George Layton.Their execution were described: Of all the executions, the ones that killed Privates George Layton and Edward Elliott produced the most irritation. It took several tries for the ill-prepared firing squad to deliver the killing blow. The two soldiers, Layton and Edwards, had the shortest terms of service of any of the condemned men. Both had mustered into the ranks of 14th Connecticut on July 18, 1863. Elliott was a twenty-two-year-old draftee and Layton (sometimes written as Laton) was a twenty-year-old substitute who often went by a fake name (either George Joy or Charles Eastman). Late in the afternoon, the 3rd Division, 2nd Corps, formed up to witness Elliott’s and Layton’s deaths. Major General William French, who normally commanded the 3rd Corps, held temporary command of the 3rd Division’s execution proceedings. What historians know about the debacle comes from The Valiant Hours, a memoir written by Private Thomas F. Galwey of 8th Ohio. According to him, the firing squads botched the execution horribly. When all was ready, the two firing parties took position in front of Layton and Elliott. At a command from the provost marshal, the squads pulled their triggers. The first volley struck one of the two deserters (Galwey did not say which one), wounding him slightly. He fell over, bleeding on his coffin. The other condemned man did not receive a scratch. In fact, after he heard the volley, he broke loose from his pinion and snatched the handkerchief from his eyes. Galwey remembered, “A murmur of mingled pity and disgust ran through the division. Most of the pieces had only snapped caps. Here was either wanton carelessness in the Provost Guard or a Providential interposition to save the lives of the men.” General French fumed at the firing squads’ failure. He ordered the un-wounded deserter rebound and re-blindfolded and instructed the squads to reload. In a few minutes, a second volley rang out, but with no different result. This time, the firing squads wounded the injured man a second time (but did not kill him), and they completely missed the un-wounded man, driving him—as Galwey described it—“into a paroxysm of fear and trembling without even hitting him!” Now, an audible groan passed through the division, revealing the soldiers’ abhorrence of the proceedings. Galwey narrated the conclusion: The left-hand squad fired once more, killing the wounded deserter, for he fell back upon his coffin and never stirred again. But the right-hand squad only wounded the unhit man at the next volley. He continued to struggle to free himself of his pinions. The guns had evidently been loaded the evening before and become wet from the rains which fell during the night. The Provost Marshal now brought up his men, one by one, and made them pull the trigger with the muzzle almost touching the unfortunate devil’s head! But strange to relate, they only snapped caps, the victim shivering visibly each time. At last the Provost Marshal himself, drawing his revolver, placed the muzzle at the man’s head and discharged all the barrels of it! This finished the man and he fell over into his coffin and never moved again. General French rode up. As we could plainly see, he was indignant at this clumsy butchery. Artists representing the New York newspapers or magazines made on-the-spot sketches of this horrid affair.” [Source: Tales from the Army of the Potomac, April 21, 2016.]
2 Danford J. Davis was from Berlin, Connecticut. He was killed in the Battle of Morton’s Ford in February 1864.
Letter 4
Reconnoissance at Morton’s Ford by Alfred Waud (LOC)
I must write you a few lines, sad as I feel. Oh, Ellen, yesterday was a sad, sad day for the 14th Regiment. I mailed you a letter Saturday morning and stated to you that we were to go on a reconnoissance. We started at 8 o’clock and after marching 2 miles, came to the Rapidan. We did not cross for about an hour, and finally our Division—the Third—were ordered to ford the river, which was four feet deep. Oh, how cold it was! Then before we got to the top of the bank, we had to go about ten feet in mud 2 feet deep. Oh, it was dreadful. But this was but the commencement.
We had just crossed the river, and then had to run about a half mile up a steep hill to get out of the range of the enemy’s guns as they could shell us easy where they were. As it was, they threw a few shells into us, killing a few men. One of the shells hit one man in the centre of the body, cut him in two, threw his head, one leg, and his gun 30 feet in the air. Well, we got by there, and after going another half mile, stopped at the foot of a high hill. Right ahead of us, about a half mile, were the enemy heavily entrenched, and between them and us, at the top of the hill, were 3 large houses all together—in fact, a large Southern plantation. 1
We lay there all the rest of the day, and as near as I can learn, we were going to retreat again across the river, as soon as it became dark. But about 5 o’clock, while we were busily getting our coffee, the enemy threw a few shells right into our midst and immediately sent out skirmishers. We did the same, but they drove them back, and just at dusk, they sent out two Brigades to drive us back and take us prisoners. Our General immediately sent out the 39th New York, but after they had got to the top of the hill, the rebels fired a charge into them and they—like a pack of fools—broke and run. Upon this, the Gen. came down to our Brigade commander in an awful rage and says, “General, for God’s sake, give me the 14th Regiment up here. They wont run!”
So Col. Moore, started us off. We got as far up as the houses, but within 300 years of the houses on the right hand side, when the order was given to take those houses at any cost, oh! how the old 14th charged. Then those houses were full of rebels and the enemy were 6 to l of us, but forward was the word, and we went ahead, the enemy firing their bullets into us like hail. Dozens by dozens fell on our side, and when we came within about 40 feet of the houses, we had but three captains, and 30 or 40 men with us. But we kept on, and finally went into one of the houses. About the same number of rebels were there, but they would not surrender, and neither would we, and then we had a hand to hand fight. But finally the rebels run off, and by this time the 1st Brigade relieved us, and we went to work carrying off our dead and wounded.
Capt. Frederick Bartlett Doten pf Co. F, 14th Connecticut, was taken prisoner At Morton’s Ford and sent to Libby Prison. He wears the blue trefoil Corps badge on his chest.
Now for our loss in that terrible hour’s work. Oh, Ellen we have lost dreadfully. Our major is wounded. Two captains have each lost a part of their hand, one Captain had a ball shot through his foot, our fine Capt. Fred B. Doten is a prisoner in their hands, two lieutenants are wounded, and as for enlisted men, non-commissioned officers, and privates over one hundred and forty are either killed, wounded and missing. Just think of it, dear Nellie. We went into the fight with 350, and we have come out with just over half the number. Every company has lost one or more sergeants, and our company has lost my chum and bed fellow, Sergeant Myers. He was shot through the side, and probably died on the field. He was a noble soldier and the tears start when I think of his poor family. Co. I lost four sergeants, Co. C three, 2 Co. F two, and so [on] through all the companies.
But there is no use in enumerating our loss. It is over and we are back to camp—a little band of broken-hearted men. I am now alone in my tent, both of my tent mates being shot. Charles Scovill, Corp. is wounded and gone to Washington. Oh, it is lonesome, lonesome, and no mistake and I am broken-hearted.
Why I was not shot is a mystery to me, but it is the goodness of God. One bullet came along and hit me on the left foot, but its force had been spent and did me no damage, although my foot aches once in a while. We have lost in our company 12 men and our captain. But I have got to write to the friends of some of the boys who are wounded and must stop. I will write again soon. I feel bad though that it don’t seem as i f I could write a line. I could go to bed and cry like a child all day if it might do any good. I am well as can be expected, although I have got a bad cold. But do not worry for I shall be well soon. I will write again soon. Please let Lucy read this. Thank God I am well. Goodbye. From — Edward
Unfortunately the Union soldier who wrote this letter did not sign his name and though he was addressed it to his brother, he did not give his brother’s name either. The only relative mention was “Aunt Jane Kihler” but I’m uncertain of that surname. I did find a woman named Jane Kihler living in Wayne, Kosciusko county, Indiana, the widow of Levi Kehler (1821-1857). It seems her maiden name was Jane Pittenger (1825-1921). She married a second time in November 1863 to Robert Chinworth (1810-1879). One of the regiments in McCook’s army at Camp Nevin was the 30th Indiana which was raised in Kosciusko county, Indiana
The letter was datelined from Camp Nevin which was located some ten miles south of Elizabethtown, Kentucky. Camp Nevin was the advance position of the Union army in November 1861 where US General Alexander McCook had his headquarters. His army, the 2nd Division, Army of the Ohio, consisted of numerous regiments, including several from Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Indiana—including the 30th Indiana.
The image below was drawn at Camp Neven where meting out discipline was common place.
Chicken thieves being disciplined by General Alexander McDowell McCook, Camp Nevin, Kentucky, November 1861 (LOC)
Transcription
Union or Death! Camp Nevin [Kentucky] November 25, 1861
Dear Brother,
It is with pleasure I seat myself to drop you a few lines to let you know that I am sitting in my tent trying to write with my overcoat on and am so cold I can hardly write (which you can see). It is pretty cold today and has been for a few days, The ground is frozen hard this morning. Yesterday it snowed and blowed all day.
The company stood picket yesterday but I got to stay in and was very glad of it too. They have all come in all right. Received your letter yesterday. Also one from Aunt Jane Kihler [?] which I must answer today. I was glad to hear from you. I expect you have looked for a letter from me but I have neglected it too much. I will try and write one [ ] as [ ] if I can.
I can’t tell when we will leave here. I think ere long though I can’t [tell] where we will land, but you will hear it. Don’t make any difference. You can write just as well. It will come anyhow. The Regimental Guards have been taken off. We get some rest. Yesterday you might have seen soldiers walking round in army with a rail on their back for not being here at roll call. It was a good sight but a [ ] to those that carried the rail. One man refused and was pulled out his tent, throwed down, and tied. So you see we must come to toe.
I am harty as a buck. I guess you can read this. Write soon.
I can’t be certain of the signature but believe it to be B. F. Davis and my hunch is that it was written written by Baldwin F. Davis of Co. A, 14th Georgia Infantry who were part of the Wigfall’s Brigade at Dumfries, Virginia, in January 1862. See below.
“Although records are not complete, it is known the batteries blockading the Potomac were supported at least in part by a portion of the brigade of General W.H.C. Whiting, who was in charge of protecting the Potomac and Occoquan front. In January of 1862, General Johnston reported the forces near Dumfries under the command of Brigadier-General Whiting included: a brigade consisting of the 4th Alabama Infantry, 2nd Mississippi Infantry, 11th Mississippi Infantry, 6th North Carolina Infantry, 1st Tennessee Infantry, and Staunton Artillery (Virginia); Brigadier-General Wigfall’s brigade consisting of the 5th Alabama Battalion Infantry, 18th Georgia Infantry, 1st Texas Infantry, 4th Texas Infantry, and 5th Texas Infantry; Colonel Hampton’s brigade consisting of the 14th Georgia Infantry, 19th Georgia Infantry, 16th North Carolina Infantry, and Hampton’s Legion (South Carolina); and a Detachment including Reilly’s artillery (North Carolina), Rives’ battery (South Carolina), Shannon’s cavalry (South Carolina), and Thornton’s cavalry (Virginia; OR Series 1, Vol 5:1030).“
Transcription
Cabin Home near Dumfries January 11th 1862
Most respected Martha & esteemed Jordin,
Yours of the 29th of November came to hand a few weeks ago and never was a letter perused with more emotion of delight. It found me very unwell but now I am well, fat and saucy. I hope when these lines come to your fair hand and before the sparkling black and blue eyes and pleasant countenances of the objects to who I am now writing, they may find her well contented and well satisfied.
I have nothing new or interesting to write but to Jordin I will tell you so is your sweat heart as you don’t know and so forgetful as to forget the name of Washie so quick. He is as saucy as you please. He almost weeks and often he sighs for the sight of them rosy cheeks & bewitching eyes.
The boys who you are acquainted with are all well, fat and saucy/ We have a fine time. We have plenty to eat—nothing to do but haul wood and make fires. We are close to the Yankees but we are not afraid of them. We don’t know when they will come on us.
I han’t seen but two girls in two months, It has been six weeks since I saw any women. If I stay in the war three years and as destitute of the sight of the fair objects as I have been since I came to this place, I would not know what a sweet heart was if I was to meet up with one. You must tell Jane and Alsey howda for me. Tell Alsey that I would take the allovers to see a chicken pie—it has been so long since I saw one. I would walk up and gather it with both hands. Tell her not to say chicken pie to me any more till I get home. Tell her to talk about something in the country till I get where there could be such a thing. I han’t seen a chicken in 5 months.
Henry has quit beating coppers. He is fat. He hears from Cristina often. She is gone to Atlanta. Tell Jane her and Martha may fight over their beau now if ever for he is larger and looks better than he ever did but I suppose my sweetheart is gone. Tell Lisa, John A. has quit using tobacco. Tell her that I never received and answer from her and when I write to girls, if they don’t answer, I quit. But give her my best respects. Tell Jane there is no jews harps here but there is many boys if they could get to come home they would make worse noise than a jews harp. There is no use of trying to des the pleasure it would be to all us boys to return to our home in peace and visit the fair and loved ones who we left in Georgia.
Tell City good half an hour before supper. Tell her I want to see cousin Fannie. I want to see them cunning yellow eyes, to see her grin, and take a peep at them ivy white and beautiful set of teeth. Tell William to write to me. If he will, I will answer all the letters that is wrote to me. I want you to tell me who it is so kind as to feed William on apples.
The letters you two girls wrote to me afforded me as much pleasure as any letters I received from any person. There is some sickness among the soldiers. Tucker is better satisfied than he has been since we first went in camp. Washie takes everything as easy as any soldier can. You girls are excused for not writing sooner and all other excuses.
Now you will please excuse me for not writing sooner. Please write son and give me a history of everything that is going on in Georgia. Accept the best respects [from] one who wishes you both well. — B. F. Davis
I forgot Christmas and New Years gift to you both.
Col. John Simpson Crocker, 93rd New York Infantry New York State Military Museum
The following letters were written by John Simpson Crocker (1825-1890), the son of Francis W. Crocker (1790-1861) and Anna Woodworth (1795-1874). John was married to Harriett Sipperley in 1856 in White Creek, Washington county, New York. Crocker was 38 and working as a lawyer in Washington county when he volunteered his services and was commissioned Colonel of the 93rd New York State Volunteers.
In the Peninsula Campaign, Crocker was taken prisoner before Yorktown on 23 April 1862 and confined at Libby Prison for a time but was finally exchanged for Colonel Lorman Chancellor, 132nd Virginia Militia, in the late summer of 1862 in time to rejoin his regiment for the Battle of Antietam. At war’s end, Crocker was breveted a Brigadier General.
There are four letters in this collection; the first written in February 1862 from Riker’s Island in NYC where the regiment was being drilled and prepared to be sent to the battle front in Virginia. The second letter was written in late August 1862 after Crocker was exchanged as a POW but before he had rejoined his regiment. Letter three was written on the march to Fredericksburg in November 1862 and letter four was written less than two weeks before the Battle of Fredericksburg as the AOP prepared to lay down pontoon bridges.
[Antietam Md. Col. John S. Crocker Lt. Col. Benjamin C. Butler and adjutant of 93d New York Volunteers] Date: c. 1862 Civil War photographs 1861-1865 / compiled by Hirst D. Milhollen and Donald H. Mugridge Washington D.C. : Library of Congress 1977. No. 0283 Title from Milhollen and Mugridge.
Letter 1
93rd Regiment NYSV “Morgan Rifles” Camp Bliss, Riker’s Island February 23rd 1862
My much beloved Hattie,
Yours of 19th inst. is received. I was very much rejoiced to receive tidings from my beloved at home. Day after day I had looked for a note from my dear one but only to be disappointed. So I was all the more rejoiced when it did come. I am very sorry my dear little Frankie has been sick. I hope he is better. tell him Pa would like very much to see him & kiss him & hold him on his lap but he cannot now. Someday he will. Little Irving & Johny too. Pa would like to see them all. He loves them dearly. He hopes to pass years of happiness with them hereafter and hopes that they will be good boys & grow up good & useful men. I have no doubt my dear one that you feel quite lonely on account of my absence. We have been & still are near & dear to each other. Seldom separated & never for a long season which makes the sting of our present separation more keenly felty. I feel sad & lonely at times as I think of the dear ones at home and the manner I have torn myself from them. You may think my dear one that I have not done right. Perhaps I have not, but God is my witness that I have only done what I believed to be my duty. I hope I shall be able to do my duty on all occasions whilst I live. I shall at least endeavor to do so.
You ask whether I rode or walked in New York on my arrival. I walked at the head of my regiment, four miles through the city and did not receive any injury from it. I did not sleep a wink the night before I left you at Albany but was constantly on duty exercising a watchful care over my command and the result was that my entire command arrived safely without injury or loss by desertion or otherwise. I have the pleasure of knowing that by being present in the night & having personal charge of my men, I was instrumental of saving the life of one at least of my men who but for me would have been crushed beneath the cars. The cars, after having stopped a few minutes, commenced moving. One of our men tried to get on board when the cars were in motion. I was outside & immediately ordered the brakes to be applied which my men readily obeyed. In the meantime the man trying to get on board got hold of the iron railing, lost his balance and was dragging just before one of the wheels. Capt. [William] Randles & myself rescued him from his perilous position. The brakes having been applied slackened this speed and enabled us to save him. My men would not have dared to apply the brakes at the command of any other officer without which, the man could not have been saved.
At another station the train was detained an hour or so. Several of my men had been out of the cars. I went out with some of the officers to compel the men to go board the cars. Just as we were about to start, two span of horses took fright and ran away, passing between the train and some buildings where was a a sweet little boy about the size of Irving. He was right in front of the teams. I saw his dilemma & sprang in & snatched the boy in my arms & threw him onto the platform of the cars just in time to save him. After the teams passed, as the train was moving very slowly, I let the boy down safely to the ground again and his father took him in his arms and a large crowd gave cheer upon cheer for hte one who saved the boy. I felt well paid for my efforts & labors that night.
Every attention was shown my regiment in New York that could be desired. We are in comfortable quarters here. Friday morning we had a man [George Austin] from Salem die of congestion of the lungs. Poor fellow. He had been sick but two days. He was a good soldier—a young man of considerable promise. His funeral took place here on the morning of the 22nd. As we had no chaplain present, I was obliged to detail an officer to perform the service. I detailed Lieut. [James M.] Crawford who is an Episcopalian. He read the funeral service peculiar to that church. The ceremony was solemn & impressive. The corpse was sent to his friends in Salem attended by Lieut. Crawford of whose company he was a member.
We have had nothing to cast a shade around us here but the circumstance just alluded to. The men seem to be happy & contented and are rapidly improving in discipline and military tactics. I don’t know how long we shall remain here but think we shall stay ten days longer for the men to get their pay. I have not been off the island since our first arrival here. I don’t think there is another officer in the regiment but has been off several times. I have drilled the regiment myself daily since our arrival.
Rikers Island is in the East River as it is called between Long Island and the mainland, eight miles from New York. The best way to get here is to take the cars at the Astor House & come up to Harlam. Take the Third Avenue cars from the Astor to Harlam, then you would get a carriage to the point opposite the island, a little over a mile, the cross on a small boat which is always ready at hand to bring over passengers. I have taken the medicine you procured & nearly another bottle which I got the quartermaster to procure for me. I think it is very good. I continue to improve & consider myself pretty well now.
Harriet, I had a terrible cold when I left Albany. I did not tell you the worst then. My throat and lungs were badly inflamed, but on my arrival at New York, my cold or influenza or whatever it was began to loosen up & you have no idea the amount of mucous stuff I raised. My voice begins to get clear & natural again. The morning after I arrived at New York, I weighed 113 pounds all told. I now weigh 120 showing a gain of seven pounds. Isn’t that doing well?
I feel persuaded that if I had stayed in Washington county, I should have never been able to stand it till the month of June. I wish I had you all snugly located in some favored spot in this vicinity or further south. I fondly hope that at some future day my wishes in this regard may be realized.
The day I left Albany I was sued by William C. Little & Co. of Albany on that old claim for books. You have heard me speak of it before. The books I never had nor any other thing nor could he have got judgment if I could have attended to it. I retained a lawyer of Albany to attend to it. If he did so faithfully, it is all right. If not, they probably got judgement for some $20 to $30. That louse of a Ketcham formerly from Pittstown was at the bottom of it. He must not come around the 93rd if he wishes to preserve his skin. If they got judgement, it was through the crime of perjury. But never mind. It is not of sufficient account to mention in a letter. Only you should know it.
I don’t know whether I shall want any money sent to me or not yet. Don’t send any till I write. If we get paid on the first of March, I can get along. Keep all the money you have for your own use unless H. M. W. & Phoebe needs some. Deal out to them as their wants require…I hope you will send me the photographs of the boys. Hat, I know I have left some enemies behind—some miserable whiny curs—but let them go. I know too full well I have left many very, very good friends. My enemies may & probably will endeavor to traduce my character now I am away. Time will bring all things right, I fully believe. I feel that I must see you before I go further south. I would like also to see the boys and Phoebe & Hannah but don’t know as I can. I will write again tomorrow or next day. Perhaps I can devise some means to see you at least. Kisses to the boys and sister Phoebe and a sweet affectionate embrace to my dear wife. Yours forever, — John S. Crocker
Letter 2
Addressed to Mrs. Harriette S. Crocker, Cambridge, Washington county, New York
Washington D. C. August 31, 1862
My dear Harriet,
I have the pleasure of stating that I arrived here this morning in good health. On my way on Friday I stopped at Albany, called at the Departments, and finished my business satisfactorily & left for New York on the 4 p.m. train. I arrived at New York at 9 p.m. so weary that I concluded to go to the Astor House where I staid overnight. I passed the day on Saturday in New York in the midst of friends by whom I was surrounded. I met Mr. Bramhall, Judge [Henry] Hogeboom, & a great many others of the first men in the city & finally went into Brooklyn with Mr. [George Burt] Lincoln, the postmaster of the City of Brooklyn, who is a distant relative of the President and is also a man of great influence in our state. By him I was highly entertained and introduced to many of his friends. I certainly have reason to feel proud of the kindly greeting I received in New York and Brooklyn from those whom I met there among the gentlemen of the first character and position. Mr. Bramhall had me sit for photographs. He is to send you one & said he should send me a package of them also.
On my arrival here I found they had sent on with my baggage a case of claret wine which cost thirty-six dollars. I think much of the present as I can’t get cider. It will answer me a good purpose. I think I never met in my life such kind and marked attention as I met on Saturday except at my own home.
Saturday last at 6 p.m., I left New York and arrived here this a.m. I immediately reported at the War Office but shall not get my orders till tomorrow. If I had known the exact situation of matters, I might have staid at home another day. I should gladly have availed myself of the privilege if I had known I could do so with safety. A report from me tomorrow would have answered as well as today. I expect to remain here or go to Annapolis, Maryland, for a short time. I will write you more particularly as soon as I get my orders. A portion of my regiment is at McClellan’s Headquarters at Fortress Monroe.
There is hard fighting going on over at Bulls Run. The fight has been raging with varied success and reverses since Friday. An immense excitement prevails in this city. No authentic information can be obtained. I hope for good news. New recruits are pouring in here in large numbers. Several thousand have arrived today.
Harriette, you must compose your mind. Let not dark forebodings get possession of your mind again. It grieves me to think your mind is so depressed. You must brighten up. We shall see better & brighter days, I hope. Let us trust Providence. Don the best we can and pray and hope for happiness. I hope our dear little Irving is better. I was sorry to part with him while sick. I was sorry to separate from you all. I hope it is but for a little season. Nothing but a sense of duty would have induced me to do so. Dare has had the fever. William is now home in a furlough sick. All our friends are again in the city havung fled for safety from their homes—Sanford included. Your dear sister Sally Ann is well. She is a true sister to us. Give my kind & affectionate regards to our dear boys and sister Phoebe & Mother and believe me yours in love ever, — John S. Crocker
I saw sister Jane & Sarah today.
Letter 3
Headquarters 93rd Regiment NYSV “Morgan Rifles” Grand Army of the Potomac Camp near Weaverville, Va. November 16th, Sunday eve., 1862
My dear Hattie,
This morning at 10:30 a.m., we broke camp at Warrenton & marched to this place, distance 12 miles. I have heard of no accident on the way. We passed through Auburn (a very small village), Catlett’s Station (a small village on the Alexandria & Orange Railroad entirely abandoned by its inhabitants) and Weaverville near which we now are. This last named place is the largest of the three, but it is one of the most shabby, rickety places that we have yet passed. The day has been very fine. The roads pretty good but quite dusty. The country through which we marched today bears unmistakeable evidence that troops have been along this way before. Last fall & winter, last spring & during the summer, and again in the early autumn, rebels and Union troops each in turn were here. Devastation and destruction is the unerring work; and they were exhibited on every hand. The surface of the country is undulating and rather pleasing to the eye, but the soil is poor and the farming miserable. No splendid mansions nor magnificent plantations were to be seen. Nothing that looked cheerful or inviting.
There was sharp fighting near our last camp yesterday afternoon. A lieut. of cavalry with whom I was acquainted was killed & many others. Our poor Union soldiers lay dead by the roadside as we came along. Our troops held the Rebels in check. The roads today were mostly taken up by the trains—the troops marching through the adjacent fields. The troops on such marches move by the flank which makes them four deep besides the rank of file closers so called, being the officers & sergeants. The men march about 28 inches apart. Frequently several lines will be marching side by side in this way extending as far as the eye can reach & yet they will not intermingle with each other. Each man has his appropriate place and keeps it.
We are not provided with forage for our horses and mules and consequently have to take it from the farmers wherever we can find it. Our horses and mules had nothing to eat yesterday and today until we arrived here, so completely has the country been drained that we could not get it for them yet. Our animals were obliged to haul heavy loads today. Tonight they are bountifully supplied to the great vexation of the poor devils from whom we have taken it. I suppose they may hereafter get pay for it by proving that they have been good, true, loyal citizens of the Union—a point which it will be difficult for them or any of them to establish. Secesh—dark & doleful secesh—may safely claim them all. In my judgment, they deserve the severe lesson they are receiving for their treason. They are destitute of tea, coffee, sugar, salt, and that (to them) all important article whiskey together with about all of the other luxuries and most of the necessaries of life. Poor deluded creatures! Even the negroes have left them alone in their folly.
Thus we have passed the Sabbath. So good night my dear. We are to go on again in the morning.
Camp ten miles beyond Weaverville on the military road to Fredericksburg, Va. November 17, 1862
Well, my dear, here we are ten miles from any place in particular. The troops commenced moving at daylight. We started for Spotter’s Tavern but when about half way, orderlies with foaming steeds came hurrying along with orders to halt & bivouac where we were which we did. It seems that a brush with the Rebs is going on & the track must be cleared of the cavalry before we go further. Besides, they are disturbing our rear and that must be attended to. We are all pretty well huddled together tonight. The officers at headquarters occupy a little space which is protected on two sides by a dense pine forrest, on another by cavalry and infantry, and the 4th by several batteries of artillery. We feel perfectly secure tonight.
We are now twenty-one miles from Fredericksburg. The country we have passed through today is very forbidding. The soil is very light and since the war commenced has not been cultivated. Many of the houses have been deserted. The Conscript Law has drawn into the Rebel service all of the able-bodied white males between 14 and 60. Most of the negroes have either gone North or been taken further South. In any event, of this way, slavery in Virginia is gone up.
The fighting this afternoon & evening has been near Acquia Creek and at Fredericksburg. An aide has just arrived with favorable news from the fight & we shall go ahead in the morning.
Tuesday, November 18th
After midnight last night I was awakened by an orderly with an order from the General to have the details & guards for headquarters ready at daylight. The order was executed and at early dawn we were moving on again. I was on duty most of the night. It rained gently during the night. This morning a cloudless sky appeared again & it has been a warm, lovely day. The roads were good. The rain laid the dust and there was not enough of it to cause any mud. The appearance of the country through which we passed today is slightly improved upon that of yesterday. We passed a few handsome country residences and some good farming lands. The country is almost completely drained of provisions, produce and stock. It has been difficult for us to get provisions & forage to subsist our men and teams. We have been obliged from necessity to take from the people what we needed & that has generally been all they had. What these miserable people subsist on this winter, I know not. They are suffering now from want & yet they adhere tenaciously to secession. Most of them, however, admit they are tired of the war and many are hopeless of success.
We have marched thirteen miles today & are encamped on a beautiful rise of ground where there was considerable fighting yesterday eight miles from Fredericksburg. A portion of our troops entered Falmouth opposite Fredericksburg today. he whole army will move on to that point tomorrow. We have had no mail in several days.
Camp near Falmouth, Va. November 19, 1862 evening
Well, my dear Hattie, here we are after a march of eight miles through a heavy rain & much mud. Perhaps you think we move slowly. If so, imagine an army whose soldiers numbered by hundreds of thousand, whose horses and mules number scores of thousand, whose cattle, sheep & other animals that are driven along with it for food number tens of thousands, an army with its train of baggage, provisions, ammunition, batteries, cavalry, ambulances, &c. if all in one line moving as compactly as possible on the same road would extend (according to estimates of good judges) from 75 to one hundred miles in length. The teams being heavily loaded and the men carrying besides their arms from fifty to seventy-five pounds in their haversacks and knapsacks, &c. upon their backs & besides being obliged to fight its way along as it penetrates an enemy’s country, and you will conclude such an immense cavalcade cannot be moved very rapidly under such circumstances—especially in such a country as this.
Falmouth is situated on the north bank of the Rappahannock nearly opposite Fredericksburg, Va. It is an old shaky town of 600 to 800 inhabitants. The streets are irregular & dirty. The men take kindly to whiskey & tobacco. The women are not tidy. The niggers have mostly skedaddled. In short, the whole concern looks as though they were rapidly going to the devil. Fredericksburg on the south side of the Rappahannock is still in the hands of the Rebels. The river here is about the size of the Battenkill at Union Village. Across this river the pickets of the two armies have conversed with each other today. Our position on this side of the river is on much higher ground than the site of the city of Fredericksburg and completely commands the town. General Burnside has sent in a demand for the surrender of the city. If it is not done, he will give them shell tomorrow. From my tent I have a fair view of the city and of the rebel troops in and around it. They have batteries arranged so as to command the ford above the city and others that are ranged towards the ground we occupy. Still I don’t think we shall hear from them.
We shall take Fredericksburg and then remain a few days in the vicinity, but it will be only a few days. We shall go ahead. Yes, you can rely upon it. We shall go ahead. General Burnside is very popular with the army. Full confidence is reposed in him by the entire army. None doubt his capacity to lead. All seem willing & ready to follow him.
With love to you and love to all my dear ones at the Gothic House, I remain yours ever, — John S. Crocker
Letter 4
Headquarters 93rd Regiment NYSV “Morgan Rifles” Camp near Belle Plains, Va. December 1st 1862
My lovely Hattie,
Everything has been all serene in my tent today. David has been making himself useful in various ways. He commenced straightening out things this morning long before I was up. A very decided improvement is already manifest. The says Mrs. Crocker told him he must take good care of the Col. & he is going to do it. I have surrendered the tent to him. But he allows Johnny & myself to stay in it. I have no private servant in my tent since I discharged the nigger a month ago and David is perfectly disgusted with my style of housekeeping. He says Mrs. Crocker wouldn’t like it at all if she was to see how things have gone hilter skilter all to Devil with Colonel’s things. He has about convinced me that I have paid more attention to Uncle Sam’s business during the last two months that I have to my own. Well, I have concluded to let David have his own way about my own private affairs here and I’ll look out for Uncle Sam’s matters so far as they are entrusted to my care.
Johnny Wetsell takes hold in good spitit and assists. I believe he intends to make himself useful. He says he wants to stay with me. I have had him and Dave prepare a good bed in my tent where they both are comfortable and happy. I am going to keep Johnny Wetsell with me instead of letting him go to the company. He is a smart, active boy & I shall take good care of him. He will make himself useful.
This is a glorious night. The moon as she dances along the sky smiles upon us like a blushing bride. You never witnessed a more beautiful evening in the month of May at Cambridge than we have on the banks of the Rappahannock tonight. The two armies that are encamped in full view of each other are as quiet as sleeping virgins—scarcely a sound breaks upon the air. Never was a more quiet still night in your peaceful, quiet village of Cambridge or North White Creek than we are experiencing here tonight. But does not this lull, this deep silence, this seeming absence of all animated nature betoken a coming storm? Methinks it does and that soon—very soon—will be heard the thunderings and distant roar & wail of that storm which will be heard throughout our land & astonish even the Nations beyond the waters.
I have just heard that the people of White Creek have raised 19 men for Col. [James B] McKean’s Saratoga Regiment. They couldn’t send them to Lieut. Colonel McKean’s Regiment nor Col. Crocker’s Regiment? Oh no! They must raise them for Col. McKean’s 77th Saratoga. The people of White Creek may go to Hell with their volunteers (9 months) for what I care. And I will bid my dear goodnight & go to bed.
December 2nd, evening. I rode this morning with Quartermaster Sergeant Fuller, William’s brother-in-law. We went down to the river opposite Fredericksburg. We could see the Rebels in great numbers on the banks opposite & the high ground beyond. The pickets do not fire at each other so it is safe to go there today but may not be tomorrow. We were on urgent business connected with our regiment. We had a very delightful ride. The roads were excellent—dry & dusty, bright sun & warm balmy air. The troops will begin to move tomorrow.
Brother William arrived tonight and brought my overcoat and the carpet bag of articles you sent. Everything arrived in first best condition. It is really a splendid present & highly valued. I know my dear Hattie will feel well paid for her trouble when she learns that it has safely arrived & was much needed. The apples & celery—the first I have seen since I left Washington—surprised me because I had no idea of such choice production on our place. I suppose Phoebe is perfectly delighted to think she has succeeded in cultivating the celery plant where I couldn’t.
In yours of 23rd ult., you speak of the ground freezing when it is warm & pleasant here. We had cold & snow a month ago among the mountains but since we left the mountains, the weather has been all serene.
I am very sorry I cannot send you money yet. Our paymaster has not yet visited us. I think he will do so this week. My regiment has not been paid in five months and yet they must not complain. Kickin will send his money to his family as soon as he is paid. I will send you some money as soon as I get it. I will try and not let you get short again. Kiss dear little Willis & Irving for Pa many times. Simon Newcomb returned here from Washington tonight. He is in good health & spirits again. I have received another copy of the County Post of 7th November from Johnny. Rev’d Mt. Gordon is great on the write. It is up hill business to write up that regiment. “Bare ground ain’t the worst of sleddin” as our old friend Doct. Cook used to say. Mr. Gordan is most an excellent man. I am sorry he was so foolish as to leave his charge in Cambridge for a position of chaplain. A chaplain can do but very little in the army. I presume Mr. Gordon has learnt that by this time. Tonight we are to commence again to build bridges. A movement of the army will commence tomorrow. Good night.
December 3rd. My dear Hattie. You must not expect much of a letter this time. I am very, very busy. Today our army commenced changing position preparatory to crossing the river. Tonight four pontoon bridges will be built and tomorrow our troops will cross unless the Rebs prevent. The crossing is to be about 15 miles below here. We (Headquarters will not move yet probably) will remain here a few days I think. There will also a large force remain here to prevent the Rebs from crossing and getting our position here. I suppose the Rebs have 180,000 men here. We have more than that & ought to beat them although they have the choice position & the advantage of the river.
I have just received yours of the 27th & will reply to it in my next. The address is all serene now. Your letter and the contents of the carpet bag have cheeered my heart. I have worked hard today. I had only three hours to sleep last night & shall have no more tonight. I should like to visit you very much. It would give me unbounded pleasure to see you and the other dear ones at the Gothic House. I indulge in hopes of visiting you ere long. I have many friends at Cambridge that I should like to see but don’t expect to see much of them until this war is over, or I am out of the service and perhaps not much then for I don’t now intend to go to Cambridge to reside again. To tell the truth, I don’t feel that I have a residence in Cambridge now. I have a dear, dear, very dear family there. I shall think of them & live for them. God knows those dear ones cluster in my heart of hearts and shine like diamonds there.
Now Hattie. keep up good spirits. Be lively & cheerful & happy. When we get into winter quarters, I shall see you. You can bet your life in that. No man loves his wife better than your John S. Crocker does his.
The following interesting letter was written by William T. Early (1817-1874), the son of Joab B. Early (1792-1845) and Betsy Thompson (1792-18xx) of Fredericksburg Parish, Virginia. William was a well-educated lawyer, politician, and owner of the Pen Park plantation of 410 acres near Charlottesville on the Rivanna river. The slave schedules of 1860 inform us that he was the owner of 36 slaves. At the time this letter was written in November 1860, he was serving as the mayor of Charlottesville.
From William’s letter, we learn that he considered the results of the 1860 Presidential election ruinous, believing that it would only lead to secession and the destruction of the Union. William’s political leanings were with the Whigs until the Republican Party emerged, strengthened by the anti-slavery extremists of the party. Though he hated to see the Union dissolved, he makes it clear in the letter that “my destiny is with the South, come what may.” Indeed, he remained in Virginia during the Civil War and in the summer of 1864 served as the captain of Co. A, 1st Battalion Virginia Reserves in the trenches near Chaffin’s Farm near Richmond. The Daily ProgressJuly 1, 1902 issue listed Capt. W. T. Early among the Confederate Soldiers interred in Maplewood Cemetery.
Apparently William did his best to bind up the wounds of the Nation after the war. In a post-war article he was quoted as saying, “The sentiment of the people throughout this region is one of entire submission to the result of the contest. Slavery is universally regarded as extinct, and there is a general and absolute acquiescence in its fate. Indeed, may people rather rejoice at this result, as it cuts the Gordian knot of a vexed question, which morally, socially, and politically, like Banquo’s ghost, appeared before us everywhere, and frightened us from our propriety, and which swallowed up every other question, as Aaron’s rod swallowed up all other rods. Of course, at first, there will be much disorganization of labor, but not so much as anticipated, and the result will be that the negro will make a very good laborer, and will take his proper place in the social scale, or he will go elsewhere, which is probably his fate. There is no spirit of further resistance…disunionists are now perfectly satisfied with the experiment made.” [27 September 1865, The New Hampshire Patriot & Gazette.]
William wrote the letter to Septimus (“Sep”) Douglass Cabaniss (1815-1889), the son of Charles Cabaniss (1773-1825) and his wife Lucy Ingram (1775-1827), who moved from Lunenberg County, VA to Madison County, AL in 1810. In his early years, Septimus was educated at Green Academy in Huntsville, AL. He attended the University of Virginia between 1832-1835, and returned to Huntsville to read law with a local attorney. He passed the Alabama Bar in 1838 and practiced law, primarily dealing with estates, in Huntsville until his death. Septimus served the Confederacy as a member of the Alabama State Legislature from 1861-63 and a Colonel in the Confederate Intelligence Division during the Civil War.
Pen Park Plantation House at it appeared in the late 19th Century. The older part of the house is the smaller structure behind the newer addition.
Transcription
Pen Park near Charlottesville November 10th 1860
S. D. Cabaniss, Esqr.
My dear friend—I have delayed answering your very highly esteemed favor of the 18th ultimo in the hope of being able to attend your sale in Jackson county. But the result of the Presidential election has made it impossible. The effect of that disastrous event is to chain everybody here to the soil for the present as fast as Prometheus was chained to the rock. In the course of a few months, I hope to change my location for Huntsville, or its vicinity. So far as I can see now, I can’t discern any probable satisfactory solution of our present troubles without many throes and convulsions.
Our news here is that South Carolina has seceded—or resolved to do so—and that Georgia, Alabama, & Mississippi will soon follow. In such a state of affairs, there will be great trouble in this and the other border slave states arising out of differences of opinion as to proper action. My own opinion is against State action or the partial action of a few states, but that a Convention of all the slaves states should be held as soon as possible to determine authoritatively the mode and measure of redress. Let us all hang together, for we need all our joint influence and strength.
So far, however, as the large majority of Virginians is concerned, I know they have no fear of Lincoln because they know his incompetency to administer the government, the heterogenous composition of his party, the discordant & irreconcilable elements of which it is composed, and the general fickleness of the popular voice which in every Democracy changes with almost every election. We, therefore, would not in the Union apprehend any very serious consequences from this election, but still we will unite with the South in any effort made for our common interest and protection. Is it not therefore all important that our counsels should be joint and our action the same?
I fear that there are extremists at the South who will precipitate action and thus introduce the seeds of division at the South, whereas there should be unanimity from the Pennsylvania border to Mexico on that part of every state; and there will be, if a southern Convention is held, and firm, and at the same time, judicious measures adopted.
Before this reaches you, however, the die may be definitively cast and states committed to instant or unqualified secession. In that event, though I can see nothing but ruin ahead, my destiny is with the South come what may. With a melancholy but firm & undaunted spirit, I will take up arms against the sea of troubles trusting that Providence will vouchsafe us a happy issue out of all our afflictions. Such will be the sentiment of Eastern Virginians but I fear that west of the Blue Ridge we should have trouble for there the slaves are few and far between.
I regret much my inability to attend the sale, and indeed suppose it will be impossible to effect one in the present condition of the public mind, but hope in the course of a month or two to get some funds that will enable me to visit Alabama and invest at least enough to buy a home in or near Huntsville.
The public sentiment here is extremely feverish and excited and I would like to know your opinion of the action of Alabama. Hoping to hear from you at an early day. I am truly your friend, — W. T. Early
I could not find an image of Gorgas but here are some member of the 90th Pennsylvania, taken after the Battle of Antietam. Franklin Beerer (Co. B) sits at left, Carson at right. At Antietam, Beerer was shot through the left knee, left elbow, and suffered a contusion on left shoulder. (The Horse Soldier)
The following letter was written by 43 year-old Edmund J. Gorgas (1819-1901) of Philadelphia who began his service in May 1861 as a sergeant in Co. K, 19th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was mustered out of that 3-month’s regiment on 29 August 1861 and the following March was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. A, 90th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was wounded in the Battle of Fredericksburg but returned to his regiment in time for the Battle of Gettysburg where he was taken prisoner and confined at Macon, Georgia. Following his exchange he was promoted to 1st Lieutenant of the company.
Before and after the Civil War, Edmond worked as a “coach trimmer” in Philadelphia—good with his hands but so great with the pen. His spelling was atrocious and I have done my best to interpret his meaning in the following letter to his Captain written just three weeks after the Battle of Antietam in which he claimed his company in “deplorable condition.” We learn from his letter who among the members of Co. A actually fought in the Battles of South Mountain and Antietam.
Transcription
Camp near Sharpsburg October 7th 1862
Capt. Durang,
Dear Sir—I have just received your very welcome letter. The company is in a deplorable condition for the want of clothing. They are ragged, lousy, and without shelter and nothing to cover them these cold nights. Captain, it is [a] hard case. But I suppose we will have all the clothing in a few days.
This Division has lost twenty-seven hundred men since we started out in the campaign that is reported at headquarters. Sergt. [Hillary] Beyer has wrote to you in which he has given you all the information you want concerning the company. [William L.] Thompson has wrote to Lieut. [William P.] Davis and given him the history of the company since he left, I believe, which you will see no doubt. There is in our company some good men but they are very scarce. I have had a hard time with some of them such as [David] Leslie. When there was to be a fight, they would be among the missing.
The day of the Battle of South Mountain we started from Frederick with 30 odd men. In the battle, I had Sergeant Roodt, [Wm. L.] Thompson, [Thomas] Benner, [Isaac]Warren, [E. A.] Dunnecliff, [John] Ruhl, [George W.] Sutton, [Joseph] Bowers, [James H.] Gouldy, [David] Diehl, [Emile] Coblentz, [George] Land, [William] Revoudt. In this last fight we started with 21 men and went in with 16—-all I have named above with the exception of [Joseph] Bowers and [William] Revoudt. Sergt. [Hillary] Beyer, [Henry] Schwartz, [Albert] Ozias, [Henry] Parker, [Augustus M.] Theiss was in the last battle which makes the 16 men, Out of them, there was six wounded—[George] Sutton, [John] Ruhl, [Augustus] Theiss, [Albert] Ozias, [James H.] Gouldy, [&] [Emile] Coblentz. Those sixteen men compose our fitting company.
The reason, I think, that that the non-com officers ought to be filled up—for we have not got enough to fill their places—there is two detailed every six days for picket duty. [Henry] Schwartz—he has give up the corporalship and sent to the hospital and Revoudt is sent too—is sick with a [ ]. [Hillary] Beyer has been acting first, but he don’t [suit?] me. He is too slow and has made such men as [Henry] Parker and his party his comrades. I have no personal feelings against him. There is [William L.] Thompson. He would make the best one of the two and I think he ought to have something for he has been a good man. He is a man that you can depend on. I have seen all non-coms fall out in the long marches we had, but Thompson was at his post always. There is other, [George] Land [& Isaac] Warren.
Your trunk is in Washington, corner of 18th & G Street in care of Capt. Dana. They were ordered to Philadelphia when they left us. You send an order for it and you will get it. Generally will be attended to. Thompson has got 10 dollars 75 cents he sent to him. Give my regards to Lieut. Davis and all the rest of the boys,
Spared & Shared 23 