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 letter was written by 46 year-old John Reid, Jr. (1816-1885) to his second wife, Maria Frances (Thompson) Reid (1832-1875). John was the son of Maj. John Reid and Elizabeth Branch Maury. Maj. Reid was aide-de-camp and military secretary to Gen. Andrew Jackson during the British and Indiana War and was with him in New Orleans. John Reid, Jr. was born on the Major’s farm (called “Tree Lawn”) near Franklin, Williamson county, Tennessee.
In 1860, John Jr. was enumerated as a lawyer in Nashville, Davidson county, Tennessee. Adding a note to his letter was Frank T. Reid (1845-1923), John’s son by his first marriage to Margaret Louise Trimble (1821-1849). Frank indicates in his note that he had not yet enlisted in the Confederate service. According to muster rolls, Frank enlisted on 13 February 1863 at Columbia, Tennessee, as a sergeant in Capt. John W. Morton Jr.’s Company, Tennessee Artillery. He was later transferred to Co. F, 4th Tennessee Cavalry as orderly sergeant.
John wrote the letter while visiting with his brother William Steptoe Reid, a large slaveholder in Williamson county, Tennessee. We learn that William had recently sold out and intended to relocate to Georgia. William was married at the time to his second wife, Sarah Claiborne Maury (1829-1912). In the letter, we learn that John Jr. and his son Frank intended to go to Murfreesboro on 31 December 1862. If they did, they would have ridden right into the Battle of Stones River.
I can’t find any evidence that John Reid ever served in the Confederate army. I did find him mentioned in an article published on 6 February 1864 in the National Aegis under the title, “The Amnesty Proclamation in Tennessee” which may or may not be propaganda: “The Union says also that Hon. John Reid, formerly a senator from Davidson County in the state legislature, and an able lawyer, has returned from Dixie, and accepted the President’s amnesty proclamation. He advises all others to follow his example as the Confederacy must go to the dogs. If John Bell doesn’t want to be conscripted, notwithstanding his age, Mr. Reid says he will be compelled also to come in.”
Transcription
Addressed to Mrs. Maria F. Reid, Gallatin, Tennessee, to care of Wm. B. Bayless, Nashville, TN
Warren county [Tennessee] December 29th 1862
My dear wife,
I am at my brothers & as Mr. Stovall goes to Sumner tomorrow, I avail myself of the opportunity to write you again. I wrote to you about two weeks ago & gave my letter to Mr. Charles Cantrill to send it to you. Did you get it? I have not heard a word from you since I left except through Mr. Gill. The letter you wrote by Mrs. Bond did not reach me. She was overhauled by the Yankees and destroyed your letter.
In my letter to you I stated in substance that you must be the judge whether you remained longer in Gallatin or come south; that if you were not molested nor likely to be by the Yankees, it would be probably more prudent to remain longer where you were. Otherwise you ought to come by the first opportunity that presented itself, if God in His mercy gave you the chance. Of course I would rather have you with me, if I consulted only my desires, but I do not know how long the Southern army will or can remain in Murfreesboro.
My brother has sold his place here and will love his family as soon as he can to Georgia. Frank & I are both well and expect to leave here for Murfreesboro day after tomorrow. I think of you & the baby constantly. I am all the time uneasy & unhappy about you. I pray God this state of things will not continue long. Write me the first & every opportunity that presents itself. I hope I will get a letter from you when I reach Murfreesboro. I write this letter on my cap & must close. I send you my best and warmest love & pray that I may be permitted before long to see you.
Kiss George for me and tell him not to forget his Pa. Love to all the family, — Jno. Reid
A post war image of Frank Reid
Dear Ma, No doubt you are somewhat surprised to find that I am still here at Uncle Will’s—and not in the army. If I could have had things my own way, you may be assured I would have been there ere this. However, I design starting to Murfreesboro day after tomorrow—Wednesday. I will write to you by every opportunity and hope you or George will drop me a line now and then. How I would like to see little Dumdoodle. I pray God that I may shortly. Give my love to all. Goodbye, — Frank Reid
The following letter was written by Manly S. Leiby (1845-1894) to his sister, Anna M. Leiby (1836-1907), the children of James and Elizabeth (Manly) Leiby of Williamsport, Pickaway county, Ohio.
Manly’s letter was written in late May 1864 while serving in Co. K, 114th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). He enlisted in the regiment on 22 August 1862 when he was 18 years old.
The letter informs us of his experience in the Red River Campaign, or the Red River Expedition as it’s sometimes called. The campaign was an offensive by the Union army under the overall command of Gen. Banks designed to cut off the use of Shreveport by Confederates as an outlet for sugar and cotton as well as split the Confederate lines. It was plagued from the start by poor management and planning. Manly places the entire blame on Maj. Gen. John A. McClernand who deserves some but not all the credit for the failed expedition.
It is with pleasure I sit down this morning to write you a few lines to inform you that I am well and doing finely. I came here last Sunday morning from Alexandria. I wasn’t sick when I left the regiment but had been on picket the day before and owing to the weather and having nothing to sleep under but my gum blanket, I caught cold and it settled in my legs so I could hardly get around. So they was going to start on the retreat and ordered all that was not able to march to the boat to go that way so of course I was one of the number that had to go.
Well, I will tell you when we got to Alexandria. We arrived there on the 26th of April, disembarked in the evening, and lay on the bank till morning and marched to the front 5 miles west of the above named place. The cavalry were skirmishing with the enemy when we got out there. Our regiment was put out to support the cavalry which held the Rebs in check all day and night. We lay there all night and rested well till morning. Thursday I was detached for picket, went out, and hadn’t been there an hour before the rebs advanced on our cavalry and begun to drive them back. It wasn’t long before Old Gen. McClernand came out to the picket post and seeing what was going on, sent back orders for the Division to move to the front which was done in less than no time and a line of battle formed, then [sent] out a line of skirmishers and skirmished with rebs about half an hour and was ordered to fall back. Fell [back] about 2 miles to a bayou and formed a new line of battle and by that time it was getting dark and the firing ceased and everything seemed calm as if there hadn’t been any fighting going on.
Thursday night we dug a line of rifle pits thinking the enemy would attack us in the morning but in the morn there were no signs of any such thing. We laid there until the 2nd of May when we advanced and [had] a considerably hard fight in which we routed the Rebs and drove them seven miles, capturing a number of prisoners. Our loss was one killed and 4 wounded. This is way we done all the time we were up there until we started on the retreat.
Friday 13th, the Army started from Alexandria & they destroyed the whole city. We were fired into 6 times coming down Red River but didn’t do much harm. They killed one man and wounded one. I don’t see how they missed so many for the boat was crowded with sick men. We run down the Atchafalaya ten miles to Simmesport where the army crossed on a pontoon which were formed by transports. It took from Wednesday until Friday at 4 o’clock to cross all the troops over. We run to the Mississippi river Friday night. I don’t know what the troops are going to do now. We were entirely surrounded when we started from Alexandria but we cut our way out. The cavalry done the most of the fighting coming down. I think if we [would] have had a good general, we would have whipped the Rebs there. Well, I hope Gen. Grant will be successful.
I will close. Write soon. Love to you and the rest of the family. Compliments to Aunts and Uncles. I am well and will go to the regiment as soon as the doctor will let me. I saw Nelson Norman up above here. He is well. The boys were all well when I left the company. Love and kisses from your affectionately brother—Manly S. Leiby
I can’t be certain of the identity of the author of this partial letter There is a remote possibility that it was written by Lawrence Manning of the 50th New York Engineers. I also can’t be certain of the date or location but believe it to have been written from either Richmond, or across the James river, in Manchester, Virginia, in April 1865. Whoever wrote the letter was involved in laying down a pontoon bridge which I think was necessary after the retreating Confederates burned Mayo’s Bridge over the James.
The Engineers laying down the first of two pontoon bridges over the James River between Richmond and Manchester, Va. in April 1865
Transcription
One o’clock, Lieutenant has come back and we are going to stay. We are roving up now right in front of the statehouse. We are going to lay a bridge in place of the one that was burned. I have learned that a large part of the city—or a good many squares—have been burned. I wish you could see these U. S. Gunboats that lay here. They are saucy looking things but magnificent.
This CDV was sold with the letter but it was not identified so can’t be certain it is the author. It dates to 1864/5 and was taken at Couch & Burns Photographers, Hampton, Va.
Thursday evening. we laid our bridge across the stream yesterday. Laid out doors last night but this morning we found a white cottage house that was unoccupied so we have got our quarters here. There are six rooms so we have got a good place—lots of fire places. I have got one room for Lieutenant and found a table and a stool upstairs. The rooms are all plastered and whitewashed so it is very pleasant.
I don’t know whether Lieutenant will stay here all the while or not. At any rate, we shall go back to Broadway [Landing] to get our things so I shall go. I was in a large foundry and machine shop to find some wire and I found two quires of letter paper—nice. I froze to it. It will last me a good while. I have found Prescott the clerk and can send this. Will write you again as soon as I can find out how to have you direct. Much love, your husband, — L. W. Manning
The following letter was written by Dewitt Clinton Abell (1840-1903), the son of Lewis H. Abell (1804-1845) and Mary P. Dennison (1805-1888) of Battle Creek, Michigan. Dewitt wrote the letter to Charlotte (“Lottie”) Marie Culver (1845-1919) with whom he would marry in March 1863.
Dewitt enlisted at Burlington, Michigan, on 5 September 1861 to serve as a private in Co. M, 2nd Michigan Cavalry. He was discharged for disability on 22 August 1862 at St. Louis, Missouri.
Dewitt’s letter was datelined from the camp of the 2nd Michigan Cavalry posted just three and a half miles from rebel-occupied Corinth, some two weeks after the Battle of Farmington (which took place on 9 May 1862) and only a week before Beauregard decided to evacuate the besieged city. Dewitt’s letter enclosed a song sheet entitled “We Have Lived & Loved Together.”
Transcription
Camp at Farmington 3.5 miles from Corinth [Mississippi] May 22, 1862
Dear friend Lottie,
I must commence this letter by begging your pardon for not answering yours of the 23rd of February & I know when you think how unhandy it is sitting on the ground with my paper spread on my knapsack, poor pen, and poorer ink to write with, that you will excuse me for not writing before.
Back again from a scout. I knew this morning when I commenced this letter that something would turn up before I finished it & sure enough there did for I had not written but a few lines before the commissary [sergeant] came to me to help him draw ten days rations & before that was done with we was ordered to saddle up for a scout. We was just getting ready to eat dinner when the order came but were not allowed to stay and eat it.
Only three days ago we was ordered to go out on a scout (of two hours) without our breakfast, and did not get back until dark. If we did not pay particular attention to the pancakes and meat, then I am no judge. But of all the scouting we have done, we have not had any severe engagement. Our company has not lost a man only by sickness, The foul hand of disease has taken four from our company to their last resting place.
I wish you could have happened in about five minutes ago. I had a first rate dinner composed of mashed potatoes (the first for two weeks) & pancakes. I think it would looked comical to you to see me sitting on the ground, my plate sitting on the ground before me like a pig eating corn. But enough of this.
I suppose you would like to have me write some news so here goes. In the first place, we are camped 3.5 miles from Corinth where the Rebels have 135,000 men (so it is reported) & we hope here it is so for there there will be more prisoners taken when we get ready to take them & that we mean to do before long. It is reported that we have over 200,000 men here. Deserters come into our camp almost every day. They all say that there is one Louisiana, two Arkansas, and one Tennessee Regiment that they have to keep them guarded from deserting. Day before yesterday they sent back 30 prisoners which they took at the battle here on the 9th. They could not keep them because they had not enough for their own men to eat. The deserters say they are kept on half rations. If such is the case, we will starve them out which I think they are trying to do for we have got them almost surrounded.
Well, Lot, I will have to stop for this time. Save a piece of the wedding cake for me. Give my best respects to all enquiring friends. Please answer soon. Yours with respect, — D. C. Abell
The following three letters were written by Andrew Shaaber (1844-1922), the son of George Shaaber (1823-1848) and Caroline Shissler (1819-1885) of Reading, Pennsylvania. He wrote the letters to his sister Mary Shaaber (1846-1922) or his cousin Hannah E. Johnston.
Andrew wrote these letters while serving in Co. B, 195th Pennsylvania Infantry—a hundred-days regiment organized in the summer of 1864. The regiment moved from Camp Curtin to Baltimore, Md., July 24, and then to Monocacy Junction July 28. They were attached to 3rd Separate Brigade, 8th Corps, Middle Department, to August, 1864. 1st Separate Brigade, 8th Corps, to October, 1864. Reserve Division, Dept. of West Virginia, to November, 1864. They guarded the bridge and railroad at Monocacy Junction, Md., till October. Then they were assigned guard duty in Berkeley County, W. Va., along B&O Railroad till November. They mustered out November 4, 1864.
Letter 1
Addressed to Miss Mary Shaaber, Care of Daniel Shaaber, Reading, Pennsylvania
Camp Curtin Sunday Morning, August 4, [1864]
Mary,
Today we leave this place for Washington and although I do not know of much to write about, I thought I would at least acquaint you with the fact that we are at last about to leave the dust and dirt of Camp Curtin—perhaps for a better place, most likely for a worse. Yesterday I went to town when the 11 o’clock train (which arrives here at half past one) came in but failed to see any of the folks. They could not have been in the train as I looked in all the cars. Maybe they came through in the first train.
I have just now finished reading the Reading Journal which was given me by the Captain. I do not know how to tell you to direct letters to me as I am not sure as to what is the number of the regiment. Half the fellows wear 194 on their caps and the other half 193. I will write you again as soon as we are settled and by that time I will be certain as to what the number of our regiment is.
We do not leave here until evening so that we have lots of time to prepare but I want to get this letter in the office this morning so that you will receive it tomorrow. Excuse bad writing. At some future time I will indite and epistle to you in the most approved style of modern chirography. Give my love to Hannah, Mary, and Annie and all the other folks, and believe me to be your most obedient brother, — Andrew
I wish you would send me some stamps. I owe Ike Shearer three. I have money but cannot get to town again before leaving and it is so handy to have a few of them in the house you know. — A
Letter 2
Camp at Monocacy Thursday Evening, September 8th [1864]
Cousin Hannah,
I received your welcome letter yesterday afternoon just before going on picket and had intended answering it today for which purpose I had carried this sheet along out with me, but owing to the rain I was compelled to postpone writing until my return to camp this evening. As it is now almost bedtime and as I cannot write any tomorrow if the weather is fine (we are busy building a log shanty), I must be brief.
You had heard I was shot. After making careful inquiries I am pleased to say that your informant was mistaken. Little as I would like being shot, still less would I like being accidentally shot.
Four hundred of our men have re-enlisted for one year. Many of them have gone into artillery and cavalry so that I cannot surely say whether or not the Old Regimental organization will be kept up. The Colonel is evidently anxious that it should be kept up and I hear that three more Lancaster and one Harrisburg company will join him. If enough of the old regiment go with him, [it will] enable him to retain his command. Several of the Colonel’s acts within the last few days are causing him to become somewhat unpopular For instance, the Lancaster agents who were here offered $450 Bounty; the Berks agents offered $500. The Colonel—who hails from Columbia—wished his section to have as good a chance as ours and wanted none to offer more than $450, even at one time going so far as to threaten to arrest all who offered more, giving as a reason that it discouraged enlistments. The men couldn’t see it in the same light and wanting all they could get, naturally got mad at such orders. It was all fixed right though at last and the Berks agents (from 4 townships, I believe) got all the men they wanted.
Capt. Markley has raised a one-year company. Eighteen men from our company go with him. Had our Captain raised a company, they would have gone with him, only more of them. The re-enlisted expect furloughs of 15 days in a few days. You would be amused to hear the different speculations during the day as to what is to become of us poor boys who did not re-enlist. According to some, next week will see us at our homes. Others say we will be scattered around the different towns of Pennsylvania to help enforce the drafts. Others say we will serve our time here guarding the railroad as [Gen.] Early still menaces us, though we ain’t skeart [scared] as long as Sheridan is about. Another crowd (and I incline to their opinion a little myself) predict that it will soon be our fortune to be engaged in active operations either at Petersburg or in the Shenandoah valley. I would not object to the latter as I think the government has a right to expect something more of us than we have hitherto done. Nothing, however, will come amiss to me as I try to always look at the bright side which I am sure is the best way, since by so doing I find that I get along as well as the very best and better than most.
I was surprised to hear that you and Maria were going to Lewisburg. I shouldn’t wonder if Maria would get homesick. Then of course she will say, I want to go home, haint so cozent Hannah.
A couple of our boys are homesick. I never saw more miserable fellows. They are both under 17 and are getting as thin and pale as can be. One of Co A’s men—an Englishman from Wilkesbarre—died last week at the Relay house on his way home. Nothing was the matter with him but homesickness and the Doctor, knowing he could not be cured here, said he must be sent home. But it was just a little too late.
I wrote to Mahlon last Monday and I am going to write home in a couple of days. When I commenced this, I had not intended writing so much. I guess you will say it is awfully dirty and horribly written but then remember the circumstances and believe me to be your affectionate Coz, — Andrew
Letter 3
Monocacy September 25, 1864
Sister Mary,
I feel sleepy this evening but as I cannot go to sleep until after roll call, I shall occupy the interim in answering your letter. Last night and today I was on picket and of course had very little sleep. But I intend making up for it tonight when once I get started. What shall I say? To tell the truth, I hardly know what to say. But as the letter must be written, I suppose I shall have to press into the service anything to fill up—so here goes.
You have of course heard of the fighting done by Sheridan’s Army down this way during the past week. Early on Monday morning we heard the booming of the cannon up the valley and at once surmised that there was going to be a big thing of it. Throughout the day until evening we heard the firing—sometimes slowly but oftentimes as fast as we could count. And although we could get no information until next morning, we all felt sure that all was going well, as indeed it did. But although Sheridan has done well so far, it is evidently intended that he shall do more. Three or four regiments of old soldiers pass this way “en route” for his army every day which more than counterbalances what he has lost in battle or what must be used as guards so that the army, instead of being depleted, is being strengthened. Yesterday the artillery and pontoon boats taken from the Rebs went by here to Washington, and last night 1500 of the Johnnies themselves went along the same route under a strong guard. I hear that 6000 more prisoners will come down tonight.
Last night as the 84th New York Regiment were passing here, one of the men who was sleeping on the bumpers of a house car tumbled under the wheels and was injured so much that he died between 7 & 8 o’clock this morning. He was buried with honors soon after dinner near my tent.
Now for roll call; then welcome Morpheus.
Monday Morning. Last Tuesday I wrote a letter to Mother and gave it to Deysher thinking that he would start for home next day. But he has not yet gone and I do not when he will go as Gen. Tyler, by whom the furlough must be approved, is absent. I will see Theodore this morning and get the letter from him again and give him this one instead, should there be any probability of his leaving today. If not, I will send it by mail. If Deysher should get home and come to the house, I want you to give him my shirt, a towel and an old suspender if there is any about as one of mine is torn up. I am glad you sent me the dollar, but I should be better pleased if you would send me a little more. I want to get a company record which will cost a dollar and I must get my shoes half-soled which I guess will cost another dollar. Then too I should like a little to spend. This is probably the last money I shall ask for as our time expires on the first of November.
There is the most provoking uncertainty among us as to what is to be done with us. If we do not get our new clothing today or tomorrow, I should not be surprised if you would see us at home next week. I would rather get the clothing though and serve the full time. One of the New York hundred-days regiments passed up the road to Sheridan yesterday. They have only 20 days to serve yet. — Andrew
This letter was written by Edward Ruger, a twenty-five year old surveyor living in Rock, Wisconsin in 1860. Ruger was the son Rev. Thomas Jefferson Ruger and Maria Hutchins of Janesville, Rock county, Wisconsin. Rev. Thomas Ruger was not only an Episcopal Clergyman, he was the Principal of the Janesville Academy which opened in 1844.
Ruger joined the 13th Wisconsin Infantry in October 1861 and was elected Captain of Company A. He was assigned to the General’s staff shortly thereafter at which time he was appointed an engineer. He was discharged from the service on November 19, 1864. Although his military records don’t support it, Ruger may have stayed on government payroll as the superintendent of the topographical engineers for the Army of the Cumberland for as late as October 1867. He had returned to to Rock, Wisconsin before 1870 and went back to civilian surveying. His affiliation with the military and government were terminated at that point.
Aside from describing his map-making activities in and around Fort Donelson in the summer of 1863, Ruger informs his father that he is sending two—maybe three—male runaway slaves to Wisconsin along with one female. He explains further that he is sending them as indentured servants, expecting them to pay back their traveling expenses, at which time his father was expected to give it back to them and offer them employment if they wanted to stay on for $5 to $8 per month plus board.
Transcription
Addressed to Rev. T. J. Ruger, Janesville, Wisconsin
Fort Donelson June 3rd 1863
Dear Father,
I shall send to you in a few days two or three nigger men and perhaps a wench to Ma. They will pay their own expense home and after they have worked for you long enough to earn the amount, I tell them that you will pay it back to them, and after that, pay them so much a month or year. One of them has been my servant for a long time. He is very faithful. The other has cooked in my company. I have my eye on another man whom I think some of sending. I would give them from five to eight dollars per month and board. I only pay four here. There is a man of my company going home soon. If he does not go until Monday the 6th, I shall send them by him. I shall send them particularly to work in harvest as I have thought help will be scarce. You must make them mind and do everything just as they are told.
We are having a great deal of rain here and the Cumberland is very high. I am acting topographical engineer and am engaged most of the time in work pertaining to my profession. I have just sent to headquarters two plots accompanied by a report showing the obstructions placed in the river by the rebels. They consist of sunken stone barges. I shall not take the job of removing them if I can help it for I have all on my hands that I can do for four or five months. I am making a map showing the range of the guns mounted in the fort, together with the topography of the surrounding country. I have three of these to make. Then I have got to survey all of this country for thirty miles around and make a military map of it. This will take me a long time. I am in hopes to get through by fall for I don’t want much to do if Sarah comes down this winter.
Col. Lyon had a telegraph from Col. Lowe from Murfreesboro yesterday to the effect that he could come to the front if he would like to. I am in hopes that he will not say go for we are so nicely situated here. Bill and I are well. He is down at the fort most all of the time but I see him at meals. I expect to go out the first of the week on a a surveying trip.
The following letter was written by Albert Gallatin Patten (1831-1893), the son of Johnson Patten (1782-1848) and Lucy Towne (1790-1862) of Kennebunkport, Maine. He was married in Mary 1868 to Martha Elizabeth Hunt in Hennepin, Minnesota.
Prior to his enlistment in the US Army in July 1854, Albert was a 23 year-old carriage-maker in Kennebunk. Albert’s pension files inform us that he served in the military from 1854 to 1859 in Co. K, 2nd Infantry. When he wrote this letter in May 1858, he was a sergeant working on detail in the Quartermaster Department of Fort Ripley in Minnesota Territory. Following his discharge from the army, he may have been the same Albert G. Patten who enlisted as crewman aboard the whaling ship Parachute which departed New Bedford in 1859. He served in the Civil War in Co. C, 1st New Jersey Infantry.
Fort Ripley was located on the west bank of the Mississippi about 20 miles above the mouth of Swan river, and 7 miles south of Crow Wing, at a point where the channel runs southwest. The distance by wagon road from St. Paul was 150 miles. The road lay along the east bank of the Mississippi, with no approach to the fort except by ferry. The Post Reserve was a mile square and was surrounded by a dense forest. The fort was situated on a plateau elevated a little above the river, and consisted of several story and a half buildings constructed of wood, forming three sides of a square, with the open side facing the stream. On the right, looking towards the quadrangle, were the quarters of the officers, the chaplain’s residence, and the sutler’s store; on the left, also quarters for officers, a room set apart for a chapel, and a hospital; while the third side was filled by the barracks for the soldiers. The northwest and southwest corners were flanked by blockhouses of logs, with port-holes commanding the sides of the fort. The houses stood some fifteen to twenty feet apart, so that there was a free entrance between, excepting on the east side where there was a stockade built of logs set on end.
Watercolor painted in 1989 of Ft. Ripley by Minnesota artist Paul S. Kramer (1919-2012). This painting hangs in the Minnesota Military Museum. A larger oil painting of the same scene hangs in Camp Ripley’s post headquarters.
Transcription
Fort Ripley, Minnesota Territory May 4th 1858
Dear Sister,
Having a little leisure time, I looked over my private letters last received and am ashamed to see how much my indebtedness is in regard to answers. Formerly, when there appeared nothing for me to fill up a sheet, I would put off writing from one mail to another—but have decided now to write if only to assure you of god health, spirits, &c. &c.
As regards my stopping here this summer, it is impossible, as yet, to say. In case of a change, I shall inform some of you at the earliest moment. Your last very kind letter gave me much news and sincerely hope I shall not have to wait long (impatiently) for another. I would visit you this. Spring, but dear sister, my leaving here now would be like taking the driving wheels from an engine, or, in other words, and better adapted, the quartermaster will be absent for a considerable length of time, and the whole responsibility of receiving, storing, &c. &c. of the year’s supplies will, consequently, devolve on me. You may think I have adopted a method of boasting but believe me, I would as soon have charge of some of the larger warehouses in the cities as what I now have here.
Often, (when one and then another, and another comes in and makes a report that a wagon has broken down—a horse lame—an animal of some description is missing—or, perhaps, an order for provisions to be filled up immediately, all these are trying to ones patience) I think of the advice so kindly offered by you in your letter, and hope I may treasure it more than gold.
This, dear sister, is but a poor apology for a letter but be assured there still exists warm affection for you all. Pay my kind wishes to Mr. Hardy, Tell James I shall write him soon. John and family are not forgotten though I think they have me. Now a few lines to Mother and also to my much and well remembered Emma. I will first close your part of this poor sheet by bidding you the usual farewell of your brother, — A. G. Patten
Jr. Master Sergeant, US Army
(Direct plain as usual.)
Dear Mother,
I am am about to commence a few lines to you, though as I said to Lucy, I have nothing more to say than that I still enjoy my usual health and good spirits. I still think, dear Mother, that we are yet to meet again on earth, though if not, I yet believe, as formerly, that there is a far better world for all who seek a right. Do not think I am entirely deaf to such allusions, but I have neither time nor space now to say much if I had it say. About my coming home, the time is quite short to me, and I hope you will keep up good courage for awhile longer and remember me your affectionate son, — A. G. Patten
My dear niece Emma,
I feel at a loss how to thank you enough for your nice little letter. I can hardly think it possible that you could write so good an one, so send me another and then no doubting.
The pretty girls here you alluded to, what, or how, shall I describe them. In the first place they wear no little hats at all, hair sometimes braided, and if cold a warm blanket serves both shawl and hat. Their other wearing apparel it is not best for me to enter into a minute detail until I can see you. I might ass without fear, that their complexion is such tat you would not desire to call one Aunt (being much too dark). I am now getting quite out of the notion of young ladies (except [our] own folks) probably shall settle down somewhere, at sometime, an old squizzled up “Bach.”
Do not forget to give me another trial on letters. I may do better than nonsense in returning you an answer. Be pleased to still remember me as your very affectionate Uncle. — A. G. Patten, Fort Ripley, M. T.
Kimball’s Gravestone, Mount Vernon Cemetery, Abington, Plymouth County, Massachusetts
The following letters were written by Joseph Edward Kimball (1839-1896)—a machinist in Ipswich, Massachusetts, who enlisted at the age of 21 in Co. B, 1st Massachusetts Infantry on 23 May 1861. He was discharged on 10 January 1864 to accept a commission in the 3rd North Carolina Colored Volunteers (37th USCT) and also in the 116th USCT.
Joseph was the son of John Kimball (1800-1876) and Rebecca Gould (1804-1888). He had three older brothers and I can’t be certain to whom he wrote this letter.
Joseph’s tombstone inscription reads:
He Fought For Love Of County Not Of Arms; And, With The Country Saved, He Left The Arts Of War For Those Of Peace And To His Record As A Good Soldier Added That Of A Good Citizen
One Who Never Turned His Back, But Marched Breast Forward; Never Doubted Clouds Would Break; Never Dreamed, Tho’ Right Were Worsted, Wrong Would Triumph… Held We fall To Rise, Are Baffled To Fight Better, Sleep To Wake.
1st Regt. Massachusetts Vol. Near City Point, Virginia July 6th 1862
Mt dear Brother,
I received your last letter while encamped before Richmond. Ere I had time to forward you an answer, the mails were stopped and the subsequent train of events have left me no time previous to today to tae up a pencil. As I have kept an account from day to day in my memorandum book of all that has transpired which I send with this, I will not attempt to go over again a recital of the fatigue, fighting, and losses which have befallen us during the last week.
Major Charles P. Chandler was killed in the Battle of Glendale
We are now encamped on a plain near the James river. Probably we shall remain here for a week or two. The regiment is sadly decimated in numbers. Many overcome by the Johnnys were left behind and a large number were lost in the battle of Monday last. Major [Charles P.] Chandler, an officer dearly beloved on account of his gentlemanly and social disposition is wounded and in the hands of the enemy. This for fortune has spared me. My health is good. Spirits dull. Feel a little fatigued but a few days will bring me out all right.
I am very gratified for your kindness evinced in the tone of your last letter. I have no farther preparation to make then what I have made in case I am killed. As I have never been burdened much with worldly wealth, it’s not like one in my situation to arrange the matters. If I am killed, I can only say make my loss as light as possible to Mother and Father. I have spoken to you and Reg___ & Olivia. If I am wounded and not fatally so, I would wish that some means might be used to take me home to Massachusetts. The wounded are so poorly cared for here that a wound is more to be dreaded than immediate death. This is all I have to say on the subject.
I have one more favor to ask. I am informed by the Colonel that we are to be stopped here for a fortnight or more. The Express line is perfect to this point. I now have to ask that you will immediately forward me a box containing some tea, sugar, coffee, preserves, and a few other articles which you may think of. The fact is brother, we are all tired out, what with fasting, fighting, and fatigue. The coffee used in the Army is more injurious than beneficial. I kind of crave some of the home delicacies. One article further I would like—please enclose half pound of Navy tobacco. You may deem the latter request foolish, but it is nevertheless necessary. Tobacco is the only stimulant I ever used since coming into the Army. Please send the box on as quickly as possible and direct to here as “forwarded immediately.”
I did not intend to write you a long letter as I hardly feel in the mood to write. I mail with this my journal up to today, Please excuse these few lines. I will write again by Monday. My love to Emily. Your stationery came safely to hand, I am very grateful for your kindness. Your affectionate brother, — J. E. Kimball
Letter 2
[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Don Andrew and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
1st Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers Camp Lincoln
July 9th 1862
My dear brother,
Since I wrote you last, I have been rendered unfit for duty by illness. The fatigue and exposure of the retreat got the best of me and I am laboring now under a kind of sickness which though not serious, will doubtless keep me from duty for a few days. My principal trouble is diarrhea with a soreness through the groin and back. You must not be alarmed because my trouble is not of a serious nature. The doctor is tending [to] me and I meet with the kindest treatment from my comrades. You shall hear from me again in a few days. I write now because I thought from my last letter you would expect another by this time.
Received a paper from you last night. Write soon. Please enclose in that put some lemons. The Express (Adams) comes way up the river. you had better direct to Hooker’s Division.
I am too weak to write much now. Am in good spirits and shall be all right in a few days. Affectionately your brother, — J. E. Kimball
P. S. We are encamped presently in a nice pine wood. My regards to Emily. Don’t let the folks know I am unwell.
The following letters were written by Milton Richardson Billings (1832-1910), the son of Samuel Billings (1789-1854) and Abigail Adams (1799-1872) of Worcester county, Massachusetts. Milton was married to Mary Jane Colvin (1837-1910) in 1858 and had two children, Samuel (b. 1859) and Henry (b. 1861) when he was drafted at Blackstone, Massachusetts in July 1863 to serve as a private in Co. G, 18th Massachusetts Infantry for three years service.
Billings was engaged with the regiment in the campaign against Richmond from May 1, 1864 until June 1, 1864, when he was reported absent without leave. Billings was, in fact, in the hospital due to a back injury and subsequently returned to the regiment. He was transferred with the remnants of the regiment on Oct. 21, 1864 to the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry and assigned to Co. B. On Feb. 8, 1865 he was reported wounded and missing during the battle of Hatchers Run. He returned to the 32nd Massachusetts and was mustered out with that regiment on June 29, 1865.
[Note: The following letters are from the collection of Greg Herr and were transcribed and published on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Billings spent his golden years on his farm in Bellingham, Massachusetts
Letter 1
Addressed to Mrs. Mary J. Billings, North Blackstone, Massachusetts
Camp near Beverly Ford, Va. March 20, 1864
Dear Wife,
I seat myself this Sunday afternoon to answer your letter which I received today. It was dated the 13th. It came last night and the suspenders too. I was glad to hear that you are all well and hope those few lines will find you the same as you was when you wrote. I am well too once more [and] glad to send you such good news and hope I never shall send you any worse not have anyone else.
Well, dear wife, those suspenders are just what I want and I am greatly obliged to you and hope that sometime or other I can repay it. It seems to me that when I have anything from you, that I never can repay you. If I could think that my love would repay you, you never send enough to me so but what you would be indebted to me all the time for I think I know how to prize a family now.
Well, dear wife, I have just come in off from picket and I want to send this letter tonight if I can. Those specs—you need not send them because he thinks he has got another pair a coming so he say tell you to never mind about getting them. Well, dear, I have wrote about all I can think of now, only Andrew says tell them that he is sick. He has just eaten a quart of beans and drunk a quart of coffee and eat a loaf of bread.
Camp of the 18th Massachusetts at Beverly ‘s Ford, Va. The view here is southeast and the Rappahannock River (and Beverly’s Ford) is situated over, and behind, the huts on the far right. (Courtesy of Clark Hall)
We have been expecting a raid of rebels but they have not come yet and I guess they won’t. They have had a Ball to Division Headquarters, 3 days and 3 nights. None was allowed to go that was under [the rank of] Major. I saw one of the Majors Friday morning and he hardly could sit on his horse he was so drunk. I was told that they had thousands of dollars worth of liquor their. It is too bad to have this war kept up for such men as them, and men keep fixing their things for them to have their good times. I could tell you more if I was to home that would make the folks stare, but they’d say I led about it. But I could not lie as bad as it is so I should have to tell the truth about it.
The Ball was held at General Joseph Bartlett’s divisional HQ, that was located in the “John B. Downman House” (pictured above). This image courtesy of Clark Hall.
We expect to have to march soon. The women have been ordered home and the sutlers are ordered to the rear so they say, but I don’t know for certain. I saw some women here today but they can go anytime most.
You spoke of the money. I guess you can put it in the bank in Marion Bank and they won’t know it. And tell the town that they must pay your house rent and find your wood. Tell them that things are so high that you can’t get along. If they want you to get along with less, tell them you want more and ask them for more. They give to the families in Milford twenty dollars a month for Ben Bennett told me his wife had it. You spoke of going up to Mother’s. I am glad that you are smart [healthy] enough to go and see them. You spoke of its raining that Sunday in the afternoon. It was squally here. It snowed and the wind blowed like fury. But after all, you can hear the blue birds sing and robins and frogs peep and have heard them for some time. The frogs down hollow as they do at home. They don’t peep—they squall.
Well dear wife, I have made out to fill this letter most up. I will close now by sending my love to all and keep a good share yourself and kiss the little ones for me. I should like to do the kissing myself but I can’t how. Hoping I can sometime, this is from your most loving and affectionate husband, — Milton R. Billings
Letter 2
Camp near Brandy Station May 3, 1864
Dear Wife,
I seat myself this morning to answer your letter which I received last night. It was dated April the 27th. I was glad to hear from you and to hear that you’re all well and hope those few lines will find you still the same. I suppose you see by the heading of this letter that we have moved. We have moved about 6 miles from our old camp across the Rappahannock toward Culpeper. I don’t think we will stay here any more than two or three days.
You wanted to know how far it was from our old camp to Culpeper. It is about ten miles and 30 to the Blue Ridge.
You wanted to know if anyone could catch any disease by sitting after them They can if they have any little sore on them to get any of the matter into it. If I was in your place, I should look pretty sharp for them. If they have got that yet, it must be more than clap. I think it is the pox because they don’t have little sores come out than with the clap and you be very careful and not wipe on the same towel that they do because you can catch it that way. If you get any of that matter out of them, put into a little pimple on you. It is just as bad as if you kept with a man that had it so I advise you to look out pretty well for yourself and children.
Well, dear wife, I have told you all I think of about that. I will tell about myself. I don’t feel very smart this morning. I have had the headache three days now but not very bad. I guess it will wear off in a few days. That letter you spoke of was dated the 17th.
Well dear wife, I hardly know what to say now. I suppose you know that they are going to have a battle soon and we don’t know who may fall but I hope I shall be spared. But we can’t tell whose turn it is next. You probably will know when it comes off before I can tell you if I am spared to do so which I hope I shall be. Charley Cory was up to see us yesterday. They have not left their winter quarters yet. We was relieved from ours by niggers so you can see how they treat the white soldiers. If there is any soft thing in the army, the nigger soldiers get it. This is a abolitionist administration right up to the handle. It is the most unjust thing that ever happened to this country. I suppose they think at home it is all right.
I spoke about Charley Cory. His time is out the last of this month. Then he will come home if nothing happens the first of June. I shall write to you as often as I can—twice a week if I can get a chance. You wanted to know when I plowed the garden last year. I think it was the first of May. Well dear wife, I don’t think of anything more this time. Kiss the little ones for me and if I ever come home, I will kiss you and receive this from your loving husband, — Milton R. Billings.
Goodbye for this time.
P. S. Those white envelopes are rather small. Send larger ones if you can. My dear wife, we have left camp near Brandy Station and moved up toward Culpeper about half way and camped for the night. We left today about noon and camped about 5 o’clock. I expect this is a general movement. We shall be moving round a good deal now. I expect this letter will to tomorrow morning. I shall write every time I can get a chance. Receive this your kind and loving husband, — Milton R. Billings. Excuse all mistakes.
Letter 3
Fifth Corps Hospital City Point, Virginia September 3rd 1864
Dear Wife,
I received a letter from you today which I was happy to receive but sorry to hear that my little man ws not very well, but hoping those few lines will find him smart again. Tell him that his father sends him lots of kisses and hope that he is better.
You spoke of John enlisting in the 8th Regiment. You did not say whether it was Heavy Artillery or Infantry and you said he got $375 dollars down as if he was a going to get more. If he does get more, let me know and how much. And you said you would send me a list of the different towns of men that they wanted to fill up their quotas and I did not find it. I guess you forgot to write about it. But you can tell me in your next.
The morning glory blossom I got and the four postage stamps. The stamps come very handy because I do a good deal of writing now days. You spoke about the town had not brought that money. If I was you, I would make them find my wood. That would be better than the 4 dollars a month.
And another thing you spoke of, that was whether our folks held the Weldon Railroad or not. They do and it will take a big force to drive them away. But that road ain’t so important as the Danville Road is. That is the road we want if we can get it. But that is the thing of it—is to get it and hold it. We have had it once but could not hold it.
You said that they had got their quota in Bellingham. I am glad of that so Elias won’t have to go. You spoke of Sam and Cate being to Mother’s but you did not know what they were going to do. I know what they will do if they can—they[will] stay and help eat up that $375 that John sent home. It is too bad but they have got cheek enough to do it.
You spoke about some quinine. I can get all I want here. No matter what ails you, they will give you quinine and whiskey so we don’t suffer for the want of that. Those pills you spoke of I can get about the same kind here. There is medicine enough here to keep us all in good health. It is the care that folks want with it. That is what fails. The doctors are pretty good ones. Benjamin Bennett has gone to Washington sick. I should not wonder if he got his discharge. He was not very sick neither. He was round camp all the time while he was here.
Has John enlisted for more than one year? I have not told you how I am, but better late than never. I am about the same as usual. I don’t feel very well but well enough to do duty and that is all they want of me out here.
Well, dear, I don’t think of anything more this time so I will close by sending my love to all and keep a good share yourself. Tell Mervin and Henry that I send them lots of kisses and you can put them on and if I ever come home, I will bring some for you all and put them on myself. Excuse all mistakes and receive this from your kind and loving and affectionate husband, — Milton R. Billings, your better half
I don’ know the name of this seed.
Letter 4
Post Hospital near Fort Williams, Va. May 31st 1865
Dear Wife,
I take the pleasure of writing to you to inform you that I am well and hope that those few lines will find you and the rest of the folks the same. I am writing over to Johnnies now and Johnnie is scouring his knives for dinner. I came over here this morning and Andrew came with me. We came by where Markey and Gib were. Gib is better now than he has been for a week past. He is getting better now. I think that he will get smart enough to come home when his regiment comes. He looks rather bad yet but he has had a pretty hard time of it for a few days past. i am going to stay here till after dinner and then I shall go back to camp. I get a good dinner when I come over here and I come over pretty often, I tell you.
Well, dear, I hardly know what to write now. I suppose you would like to know when I am coming home and I would like to tell you if I could but you will know it as quick as I shall if you have the Boston Journal. That will tell when the Massachusetts troops are coming if anyone knows. There is troops going home every day now from some of the Corps and when it comes our turn, we shall come if nothing happens.
Andrew says that we shall be to home about the time the tomatoes are ripe but i guess we shall come before that time if nothing happens. John says that he thinks that they will get in to Massachusetts the last of next week but don’t know when he will get home. Andrew says that he has not any notion of coming home yet awhile—not as long as the pie women come into camp. Our camp is lined with women that are peddling pies and cakes but we don’t buy many for we have not got any money to buy with. I have had $2.50 of John since I came here and I had spent that so I don’t get any pies now.
Some of the boys had gay times with the women that peddle. I was down to Camp Distribution the other day to see James and they told me that he went over to Washington the first day that the review commenced and had not got back and he had been gone three days then and I had heard from his company since then and he is dropped from the rolls as a deserter. And I hear today that he has not got back yet. The order is now that if a man is absent three roll calls, he is put down as a deserter. I went to see him to tell him where George was for he told me that he should go down to New Berne as soon as he got out of the service to see if he could help George out and so I went down to tell him where he was and I got wet through to my hide and never see him after all. It rained all that day!
Edy Cory has been to see me and Johnny Ditson. They look tough and hearty. They said that all was well and tough.
Well, I don’t think of anything more this time so I will close by sending love to all and keep a good share yourself and kiss the little ones for me and receive this from your affectionate husband, — Milton R. Billings
An unidentified member of the 7th New York State Militia, Library of Congress
The following incredible letter was written by 21 year-old Albert Victor Meeks (1839-1889), the son of Joseph William Meeks (1805-1878), a master craftsman of furniture who had a store at 18 Vesey Street in Manhattan in partnership with his father. Albert’s mother was Sophia T. Vidal (1809-1895).
When Albert applied for a passport in 1859, he was described with specificity as standing slighter above 5 feet 5 inches with a high forehead, brown eyes, prominent nose, large mouth, auburn hair, thin a florid complexion. He graduated from the City of New York’s Law School in 1860 and was a private in the 7th New York National Guard at the time of the firing on Fort Sumter.
Frantic to protect the Nation’s Capitol, the President called upon all available militia units to come to its defense. The 7th New York State Militia was one of the first to respond. Albert served in the first activation of the 7th Regiment from April 18th to 3 June 1861. He then reenlisted at New York City on 4 June 1861 and was commissioned the Captain of Co. G, 62nd New York Infantry on 30 June. He led his company at the Battle of Williamsburg and at Fair Oaks where he was wounded. He resigned his commission and was discharged on 11 August 1862.
Albert’s letter describes the remarkable march made by the 7th Regiment from Annapolis to the Capitol where it was greeted with unbounded enthusiasm by the citizenry and government officials, and quickly mustered into active service for thirty days.
The 7th New York State Militia after their arrival in Washington D. C. in April 1861. They were the first New York State militia to reach Washington after the President’s call for troops.After being initially housed in the US Capitol, they were moved to a camp on Meridian Hill, May 2d to 23d. They took part in the occupation of Arlington Heights, Virginia, May 24th to May 26th, and assisted in building Fort Runyon. They returned to Camp Cameron on the latter date, and were mustered out at New York City, June 3, 1861
Transcription
Washington City April 27th 1861
Dear Mother,
I wrote you a condensed description of my expedition to Washington in my last letter. I will relate the details when I come home to you again. We was without food—only a few soda crackers with a piece of raw pork stuck between them—and as we marched along at night some of us was fast asleep. General Scott says that the march of the National Guard from Annapolis 1 to the Capitol was a campaign in itself. We marched 23½ miles and layed down some sixty or seventy rails on the railroad, dragged our cannon and baggage on dirt cars behind us. At one point the scoundrelly seceeders had burned down the bridge 2 but that could not stop our march, for the Engineers soon cut down two trees some 30 feet long and with props & etc. we made a bridge and on we marched, and although we had so many obstacles to contend against, we in twenty-two hours marched 23½ miles, built a bridge, repaired the railroad, & carried our baggage. I call that wonderful.
“The March to Washington, April 1861”
It was about dawn of day that we reached a place called the junction after a tramp all night long expecting an attack from the villains of seceeders. We then took down a rail fence and built about a dozen large campfires and sat down almost exhausted. I got near to a fire, pulled off my boots, rolled myself up in my blanket, and was soon sound asleep. I was awakened by the drum roll to march on to a place a mile further on where we met the cars coming to meet us from Washington with a company of Washington troops to escort us. We were wild with joy and cheer upon cheer greeted the train. Tears came in the eyes of some when they felt that they were to be allowed soon to rest their tired limbs. You don’t know what it is to see men thus affected. I was determined to keep up with the main body and I did to the last.
We then embarked on the train and was soon in the Capitol. We was received with immense cheering, a great display of flags and ladies in the balconies on the Avenue. We was marched straight up to the Presidential Mansion and passed in review, just as we was—covered with dust, with our haversacks and canteens slung on, in addition to our load of baggage we carried from our homes. The President, Secretary of War, & others reviewed us. We then was divided into divisions and marched to the hotels to dinner for the first time in days. We had been for three days without a decent meal. I took a big dinner, got excused for two days on account of swelled feet. I took a bath, had my hair cut, got a fine room and went to bed and slept as only a tired man can sleep. I am now perfectly restored and have reported myself for duty.
“I am in splendid quarters in the Capitol. We are here at the request of the President. We were reviewed by Uncle Abe yesterday and he was so much pleased that he clapped his hands.”
— Albert V. Meeks, 7th New York State Militia, 27 April 1861
Yesterday we was sworn in and the 7th Regiment [New York State Militia] are now part of the regular U.S. Army. We are all enrolled and receive our pay from Government for the time of one month only. We will come home then most likely. I am in splendid quarters in the Capitol. We are here at the request of the President. We were reviewed by Uncle Abe yesterday and he was so much pleased that he clapped his hands.
We have no work to do but keep our belts well whitened and parade about Washington. I have received many courtesies from the ladies—they are partial to the Glorious Old Seventh. I am well and comfortable and am pleased with my situation. I will wait until I come home and then tell a good long story of truth and experience such as I never expected to realize. I am writing to you here in the Hall of Representatives in the National Capitol. 3 Give my love to all of the family and please write to me. Direct the letters to me (8th Company, 7th Regiment National Guard, Washington, U. S. A.) I belong to the Army now. I like the fun. I will write very soon again. God bless you all. — Albert V. Meeks, U. S. A.
1 The 7th New York State Militia was in Annapolis because the railroad route to Washington D. C. had been blocked. In Philadelphia, Col. Lefferts, commanding the 7th, was informed that the bridges between Havre de Grace and Baltimore were destroyed by a mob and the road rendered impassable. It was decided to take a steamer to Annapolis and then proceed to Washington overland.
2 This was the railroad bridge near Millersville which was 20 feet high and 16 feet long, which had recently been destroyed by Secessionists. It took a full day to reconstruct a temporary bridge sufficiently strong to carry the train.
3 Not only did Albert write his letter from the Hall of Representatives in the US Capitol, he penned it on official Stationery of the 36th Congress.
Spared & Shared 23 