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 William J. Rowe (1840-1904), the son of Jacob and Jane (Campbell) Rowe of Kingston, Ulster county, New York. William enlisted at the age of 22 on 9 August 1862 to serve as a private in Co. B, 120th New York Infantry. At the time of his enlistment, William was described as a 5 foot 11 inch tall farmer with gray eyes, brown hair, and a dark complexion.
I could not find an image of William but here is one of Gordon B. Swift who also served in the 120th New York Infantry (Photo Sleuth)
He was taken prisoner at the Battle of James City, Virginia, on 10 October 1863 and eventually taken to Andersonville Prison in Georgia where he died of disease on 13 June 1864. He was buried in Grave No. 1940.
During the time that William was with the regiment, they fought in several important battles, including Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Mine Run, Spottsylvania, North Anna, Totopotomy, and Cold Harbor. During its service the 120th New York Infantry lost by death, killed in action, 10 officers, 87 enlisted men; of wounds received in action, 1 officer, 54 enlisted men; of disease and other causes, 3 officers, 181 enlisted men; total, 14 officers, 322 enlisted men; aggregate, 336; of whom 69 enlisted men died in the hands of the enemy—including William.
William wrote the letter to his cousin, William Rowe (b. 1840), the son of William and Margaret Rowe of Hurley, Ulster county, New York.
Transcription
February 28, 1863
Dear Cousin,
I now take my pen in hand in order to answer your kind letter which I just received. We are both enjoying good health at present and I hope that when this reaches you, it will find you the same. I enjoy a soldier’s life very well but I think I like home the best. You wanted to know how I or what I had to sleep on. You don’t think Uncle Sam would have his brave soldiers sleep on feathers, do you? No siree horsefly. We sleep on mahogany sofas and have pie and cake and sweet meats. But the best thing we get is pork and hard tack. We get coffee and sugar too.
You talk about girls. There is none out here where we are now but I saw lots of them at the Battle of Fredericksburg. I saw a fine black wench there that weighed about 300. I think I shall go in for her if I can get her. That is all the nice girls that I have seen since I have been out here.
The weather is rather unsettled out here. It storms most every day. The most of the boys are well now but they have been quite sickly. I don’t think we will stay here long. We have been building corduroy roads for the army to move. I think I am able to stand the blunt and get home yet.
So no more at present. From your affectionate cousin, — W. J. R.
Write as soon as you get this. Yours truly, — William J. Rowe
The following letter was written by Samuel Ware (1835-1864), a 27 year-old farmer from Conway, Massachusetts, when he enlisted and was mustered into service on July 10, 1862 as a private in Co. H, 1st Massachusetts Cavalry. Samuel was the son of Willard Ware (1799-1845) and Anna Edson (1811-1891). He was married to Jane Elizabeth Payne (1836-1909) in 1855. At the time of the 1860 US Census, Samuel and his wife were enumerated in Buckland, Franklin county, Massachusetts. The couple had two children—Lucy War, born 19 September 1857, and Mary Ware, born 8 February 1860.
Samuel was taken prisoner at Parker’s Store on the Orange plank Road in western Spotsylvania county, Virginia, on 29 November 1863, Samuel was held a prisoner at Belle Island in Richmond, VA prior to being transferred to Andersonville where he died of diarrhea and scurvy on August 10, 1864 after nine months of captivity.
In the following letter, written from Belle Island where he was being held a prisoner, Samuel lets his brother-in-law, Alonzo Payne (1839-1886) know that he was well and but hungry and requests a box of victuals be sent to him. Confinement on Belle Isle would have been particularly brutal in the wintertime. As was customary with prisoner of war letters, it was limited to one page in length.
Belle Isle Prison on island in James River opposite Richmond, Virginia
[Note: The photocopy of the letter was sent to me for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by Lin Robinson who is Samuel’s g-g-granddaughter.]
Transcription
Addressed to Mr. Alonzo Payne, Conway, Massachusetts
Belle Island, Richmond, Virginia January 14, 1864
Dear Brother,
I write to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you the same. I am a prisoner. I am used well except I don’t get enough to eat and I want you to send me a small box. Don’t put anything in it that won’t keep one month. Some meal, pork, sugar, tea, salt, dried apple, drief beef, cheese, butter, crackers, &c.
Send to my wife that I am well. Please send the box as soon as you get this. Direct as follows: Samuel Ware, 1st Massachusetts Cavalry, Belle Island, Richmond, Virginia.
In the following 1839 lawsuit, the plaintiff Reuben Holton, brought suit against the defendant, Charles Patterson, for having made his unwed daughter Abigail pregnant, thus depriving him of the services of his daughter—and servant. Yes, under New York law, and apparently the English courts before, a parent was entitled to their child’s services, and compensatory damages were often awarded for the loss of services of the person seduced. Evidence that the defendant offered to marry the child seduced was not to be taken into consideration in mitigation of the damages. A defendant’s only recourse in fighting the suit would be to show that that the child was not seduced but was unchaste and promiscuous in her intercourse with men. [New York Law of Damages]
Transcription
Superior Court of July Term of the 6th Day of August 1839 Schenectady county
Reuben Holton, Plaintiff, in the suit by John C. Wright, his Attorney, complains of Charles Patterson, defendant, by declaration & not by [ ] according to the statute of a plea of trespass on the case. For that whereas the said defendant contriving & wrongfully & [un___] intending to injure the said plaintiff & to deprive him of the service & assistance of Abigail Holton, the daughter & servant of him, the said plaintiff heretofore to wit, on the seventh day of November 1838 at Duanesburg in the County of Schenectady & on divers other days & times between that day and this…debauched and carnally knew the said Abigail Holton there and then and from thence for a long space of time to wit, hitherto being the daughter and servant of the said Reuben Holton, where the said Abigail Holton became pregnant & sick with child & so remained & continued for a long space of time, to wit, for the space of nine months.,,from the day & year mentioned hitherto became & was unable to do or perform the necessary affairs & business of the said Reuben Holton, so being her father & master as aforesaid, & thereby hem the said Reuben Holton during all that time lost and was deprived of the services of his said daughter & servant [and was] forced and obliged to and did unnecessarily pay, lay out, and spend divers sums of money…one hundred dollars in and about the nursing & taking care of the said Abigail Holton…To the damage of the said plaintiff of two thousand dollars…
An unidentified sailor from the Liljenquist Collection in the Library of Congress
The following letter was written by Andrew Donald (“Don”) Campbell (1836-1890), the son of Allan McDougall Campbell and Martha Matternley (1802-18xx) of Nova Scotia. At the time of the 1850 US Census, Don was living under his mother’s roof in Westchester county, New York, his mother an apparent widow. At the time of the 1860 US Census, Don was living in a New York City boarding house with his older brother Allan working as a sign painter. His brother Allan was working as a postal carrier.
It appears that Don enlisted as a landsman in the US Navy in September 1864, giving his occupation as jeweler at the time. He was later promoted to a sergeant’s steward. As far as I can learn, Don only served aboard he USS Shawmut—a 593-ton steamer acquired by the U.S. Navy and put to use by the Union during the American Civil War. Shawmut served the Union Navy primarily as a gunboat with howitzers for bombardment, and various other rifles and cannon for use at sea in apprehending blockade runners attempting to “run” the Union blockade of the Confederate States of America. he was sent to Nova Scotia in 1864 in search of the iron-sided Confederate steamer Tallahassee which had preyed on merchant ships in the North Atlantic and often seeking refuge in the neutral British port of Halifax. She was cornered in Halifax Harbor at one point but escaped under cover of darkness out the eastern passage at high tide.
After cruising in Nova Scotian waters without seeing or hearing of her quarry, Shawmut returned to the Portsmouth Navy Yard on the 20th. On 9 January 1865, the gunboat was ordered to proceed to Wilmington, North Carolina, to join the North Atlantic Blockading Squadron. She participated in the attack on and capture of Fort Anderson, North Carolina, from 18 to 20 February. On the latter day, a boat from Shawmut was destroyed by a torpedo as it swept waters in the area.
Don Campbell served aboard the USS Shawmut during the Civil War
Transcription
Addressed to Allan M. Campbell, Corner 7th and Clinton Streets, Morrisania, Westchester county, New York
On board Receiving Ship Roebuck December 14th, 1864
Brother Allan,
Your letter of the 7th I received yesterday afternoon for which accept my thanks. I began to think you had forgotten me. I wrote two letters to mother, one dated at Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, but which I had no chance to post until we got to this place, and the other I wrote the first week we were here, You asked me if Halifax looked like what I had imagined. There is a picture of it in the house. Well you just take that a put a few blockade runners in the stream and you have Halifax to a “T.” I knew the place as we were steaming into the harbor from that picture. I recognized the Citadel and Government House at once. There is a little steam ferry boat that runs between Halifax and Dartmouth which you would laugh at if you saw [it]—about as much like the Fulton Ferry boats as a dung boat is like a 60-gun frigate.
I should have liked to have gone ashore but I had no chance. The harbor is a beautiful one—long and narrow, but deep. They say there has been great improvements within the last ten years but every house looked to me as if it had stood a thousand years—they are so black and gloomy. But still I should think it’s a very handsome town in summer time. We could not buy any grub as no bum boats would come alongside; our greenbacks being worth only 30 cents and they will only take them at the exchange offices. When the gig’s crew run away, the Captain had to hire some of the blue noses to pull him on board and he was obliged to pay them in gold.
They are bitter secessionists—so much so that at St. Johns, they offered to stow our men away if they would come ashore. I think our ship looked more trim and neat on the outside than the British men-of-war I saw laying at Halifax. St. Johns, New Brunswick, looks something like Halifax—gloomy and black—but the tide has a tremendous rise and fall (about 30 feet) as it lies in the Bay of Fundy. When it is flood tide, you will see the vessels almost on top of the docks, and at ebb [tide] they will be high and dry on the beach, showing their keels and the water 60 fathom away. They have here also one of those “gay but not gaudy” (as Sandy says) Ferry boats running across the harbor. Yarmouth, St. Mary’s, and Grand Menau look about the same.
You will see by the heading of this letter that we are not on board of our own ship now. Last week there was a survey made of the Shawmut and they found her in such a condition that they would not allow her to leave here until she has been thoroughly overhauled and repaired, so they sent us on board of this receiving ship.
There are two guardo’s 1 here—the old Sloop-of-War Vandalia, and the bark Roebuck. They are both lashed together but the substitutes are kept on board the Vandalia and the volunteers on the Roebuck. The first night after we left the Shawmut, we bunked on the Vandalia. Hell is a paradise to her. There was nothing but drunken rows and knifing and robbing on her the whole night while the officers and guards were afraid to stop it. I never passed such a night and hope never to pass such another.
On this ship, it is quiet but it is very cold. We have had a foot of snow here already and it looks like more coming. I don’t know how long we shall be here—some say two or three weeks and others two or three months. But I would rather be on board of my own ship. You want to know if there is any chance to get on the Shawmut. Take my advice and stay ashore. I think you have had enough of Uncle Sam and if the draft takes place and you are caught, why “skedad.” Tell Jack he need not be afraid of the draft for his leg will exempt him. Ain’t you entitled, Al, to $100 bounty. I think you are, and you will get it if you put in your claim.
Tell Mother I got that mustering jacket from Mrs. Brabham for which I am much obliged. Give my love to mother, Mary , and all the rest of the folks, and my respects to Whit, Jack Royal, and the other boys. I should like to see Whit and Jack. Write soon and direct as before as it will reach me quicker. I am well at present and hope you are all the same.
Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain your brother, — A. D. Campbell
1 A guardo was a receiving ship or vessel on which enlisted men were temporarily quartered until drafted to sea-going vessels. Don’s letter informs us there were two of these ships lashed together off shore, one for quartering volunteers who were quiet and manageable; the other for substitutes (accepting a bounty to serve for someone who was drafted) who were unruly and unmanageable. The latter had to be guarded closely lest they desert (“bounty jumpers”).
An unidentified Union Navy Sailor (Ron Field Collection)
These two letters were written by Allan McDougall Campbell (1835-1874), the son of Allan McDougall Campbell and Martha Matternley (1802-18xx) of Nova Scotia. At the time of the 1850 US Census, Allan was living under his mother’s roof in Westchester county, New York, his mother an apparent widow. At the time of the 1860 US Census, Allan was living in a New York City boarding house with his younger brother Donald working as a postal carrier. His brother Donald was working as a sign painter. It appears that Allan received his naturalization papers in August 1857.
It was in August 1863 that 29 year-old Allan enlisted in the US Navy. At that time he was described as standing just shy of 5 and a half feet tall, with grey eyes and auburn hair. He may have been the same Allan Campbell who served earlier in the Navy aboard the USS North Carolina, enlisting in August 1861. Both of the following letters were written while Allan served aboard the USS Montauk, a single-turreted Passaic-class monitor launched in 1862 and part of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron. She may be best remembered as the vessel on which the autopsy of John Wilkes Booth was performed in late April 1865.
After he was discharged from the Navy, Allan returned to New York State, settling in Morrisania, Westchester county, where he found employment as a brick mason and married Annie Walker Fisher (1845-1938).
Letter 1
Iron Clad Montauk Off Charleston, S. C. December 3rd 1863
Dear Mother,
I received Don’s letter on Sunday I think it was, but could not get a chance to write till today for I have been made cook of our mess which takes most of my time. I took [the position] because it adds seven dollars and a half to my month’s wages and that you know is something [in] these times although I scarcely [have] any time to myself. The work is not hard nor warm.
I was very glad to hear from you. I wish you folks would write oftener for you don’t know how nice it is to get a letter here. Every mail that comes I stand coveting every letter that is called off. Do write—any of you. Don’t wait for an answer. Tell Johnny to write and tell me what the fire department are doing, &c
Two sailors play the banjo and the bones.
Mother, tell George to write something about his wife & Willie. Tell him they have found out that I play a little on the banjo and I was taken on board of the Massachusetts with the officers to buy a banjo from the young fellow that sent you my letter from Philadelphia. I seen him and bought the banjo from him. The chief paid ten dollars for it so we have music every night by order of the Lieut. There is a young fellow by the name of Charley Wicks—a regular comical genius. He plays the bones like sixty. The way they found me out was I heard a guitar in the officer’s room one night. The next night I asked one of the men to borrow it. The Chief, whose it was, brought it out. I sung the Duck Song which I had to repeat for the Captain & then for the Lieutenant and there was nothing but bothering all the time. We are going to get up a kind of a concert for New Years night so you see we are not without some fun.
December 4th. I had to leave off yesterday to get supper ready.
On the 18th of last month, we saw [Forts] Moultrie and Johnson firing on the [USS] Lehigh the first thing in the morning. She, being up on picket, had got aground during the night. The rebels discovering her fix opened fire on her. We were ordered up to tow her off. We went up and engaged Moultrie, and sent a boat under cover of our smoke with a line to the Lehigh. While going, a shell burst over it but fortunately hurt no one. The struck our deck once on the deck with a round shot right alongside the fire room hatch, doing no other damage, [but] making a dent in the deck and knocking a sand bag into splithereens.
The USS Lehigh aground near Fort Sumter, Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, December 12, 1863, p. 177.
On the Lehigh, five men and one officer was wounded while on deck by a shell which struck the turret but none of them has died. We blasted away with our eleven inch till it broke down. We struck two of their large guns on Moultrie, knocking one of them clean over.
We hauled the Lehigh off and then dropped out of range. 1 The [USS] Ironsides run up but did not go into action. I thought we was going to have a general engagement but was rather disappointed. There has been nothing much done since except making a feint on [Fort] Sumter one night while [Gen. Quincy] Gillmore made an attack on and captured one or two [rebel forts] on James Island. They still keep up an ever-lasting fire day and night on Sumter to prevent them from building anything inside. There is a duel going on now between [Forts] Gregg and Wagner on our side and [Fort] Moultie and Battery No. 3 on Sullivans Island on their side.
We had a grand salute fired on the first by the Ironsides and Wabash in honor of Grant’s victory but I have not heard the full particulars of it yet. We have not had late enough papers. I must stop. Give my love to all and don’t forget Ollie and Susey for I am your singular son, — Allan
1 Allen’s letter claims it was the USS Montauk that rescued the USS Lehigh—not even mentioning the presence of the USS Nahant—but history has recorded that both the Montauk and Nahant came to Lehigh’s rescue and that it was a launch from the Lehigh that succeeded in attaching a tow line to the Nahant who in turn pulled them off the sandbar. The full story can be found here: The Sailors Who Saved USS Lehigh.
The USS Lehigh in the James River. The Lehigh and the USS Montauk were sister ships.
Letter 2
Montauk March 8th 1864
Dear Mother,
You were talking about the different ones in those pictures looking like me. I recollect the time that [William T.] Crane 1 took the drawing. We made the fire room look very nice, cleaned up the engine as bright as a new pin, but he did not take any drawing of it after all. The drawing of the turret is very good. it looks quite natural with the guns. I sleep right aft of the 11 inch gun now for I have to stand four hours watch in the turret every night to be ready to revolve if wanted. There are three of us that take turns at it. The turret chamber [drawing] is very well [done] too.
William T. Crane’s sketch of the “Interior of the Turret of the USS Ironclad Montauk”published in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper on 13 February 1864.
The man sitting reading is one of the firemen who was there at the time. It looks something like him but the rest is not so good. The chief sent a drawing of our concert on Christmas night to Harper’s or Frank Leslie’s but they haven’t put it in yet, I believe.
Under the turret in the USS Montauk; a fireman sits reading newspaper at right.
I have but very little time to write now for I am cook again & hardly get a chance to wash and mend my clothes and you must excuse my bad writing for it is so dark that I can’t see the lines.
What is the country coming to? Gold worth sixty cents on the dollar? I suppose if we had some encouragement, it would come down. I believe there are some talks of raising our wages. Well i hope they do. I don’t suppose it worth my while my coming home for I may be just in time to be drafted. But I hain’t home yet, am I? Write and tell me all the news.
Give my respects to all the folks. Tell George Sherwood to look out for the Monitors and torpedoes. We have got used to them now but they won’t try them on these things. We have nets all around us about 15 feet out from the sides rigged out on the ends of spars. They go down as deep as the bottom of the ship so they can’t hurt us. Besides the guns in the turret, we have a 12-inch Howitzer on each end of the deck. Our captain is very strict. He won’t allow a boat to come near at night till he gets ready to let them. The first thing is to train that gun on that boat till I get ready. If he don’t stop when you tell him, blow him out of the water.
I believe we are to make an attack on Sullivan’s Island pretty soon so it looks like doing something.
William T. Crane’s Sketch of a rebel encampment on Sullivan Island in 1863
I hope this finds you all in good health for I am in excellent health and spirits. Weather is fine and everything is lovely and the goose is high. Give my love to all—the little, big, & Drumaday Campbells. And to you Mother. I am as ever your singular affectionate son, — Allan
1 William T. Crane worked as a “special artist” for Frank Leslie’s Illustrated newspaper which published 244 of his drawings. In addition, under orders from General Quincy A. Gilmore, Crane drew a series of sequential views of Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor in the summer of 1863 depicting the stages of the fort’s demolition during a prolonged Union bombardment.
The following letter was written by Thomas Henry Stones (1844-1921), the son of Thomas Stones (1803-1846) and Joanna G. Edwards (1807-1880) of Atlanta, Logan county, Illinois.
Thomas enlisted on 7 August 1862 as a private in Co. A, 117th Illinois Infantry. He remained in the regiment for three years, mustering out on 5 August 1865. At the time of his enlistment he was described as a 5 foot 6 inch tall single 17-year-old farmer with brown hair and black eyes. After the war, in 1867, Thomas married Elvira Cunningham (1848-1927) and lived out his days as a wagon-maker in McLean county, Illinois.
Thomas wrote the following letter in February 1863 while the regiment was on duty in Memphis, Tennessee. From there they would occasionally go out on scouts, looking in particular for bushwhackers who would fire on Union ships as they carried troops and materials up and down the Mississippi. The “little town” that Thomas describes having seen “in ashes” was most likely the village of Hopefield which Major General Stephen A. Hurlbut, commander of the 16th Army Corps headquartered at Memphis, ordered to be destroyed as he judged it to be “a mere shelter for guerrillas” who had attacked Union boats for several weeks above and below Memphis. It was destroyed on 19 February 1863.
Members of Co. C, 117th Illinois Infantry; drummer William H. Ashley lays at right.
Transcription
[Memphis, Tennessee] February 22, 1863
Dear Mother,
I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well and I feel as well as I ever felt since I came into the army. I think that I can stand the hardships as well as any of our company. Our company went out on a scout this week. We had orders to take one days rations in our haversacks. That was soon done and then we was drawn up in a line and marched down to a boat and we got on board and sailed up the river some five or six miles and landed for the night and in the morning after looking around awhile we started again. We crossed the river and went about five miles and we surrounded a house and closed in and demanded a search of the house. There was no men folks at home [and] the women did not like it very well but all in vain. Our Lieutenant-Colonel [Jonathan Merriam] and Captains searched the house [while] the boys made a charge on the chickens and smoke house. They made a terrible charge on the chickens. I think that we got at least seventy-five hens and honey, hams, sweet potatoes, butter, milk, and other things in proportion and two mules. The officers came pretty near burning her house but they did not. The woman was rank secesh—she did not deny it at all. She said that she had three sons in the Secesh army. One is a captain and the other two are lieutenants. I think that she ought to be burnt out of house and home.
Our gunboat burnt a little town that day. I seen the town after it was laid in ashes. The women and children did look awful. I could not help feeling bad to see them without house or home. Oh how glad I feel when I think you are so far from the army and the destruction of everything. You can’t hardly imagine the destruction of everything.
We had some of a chicken that I saved the other day for breakfast. I thought it was the best chicken that I ever tasted in my life. I wish that I could only quit to take breakfast with you again but I think in course of time I will have that opportunity. We have not received our box yet. Gus will go up tomorrow and see if it has come yet. I have not received any letter from home since the 25 of January. I am looking very anxious for a letter. I would be very glad if you would write once a week. Write soon. Give my love to all. — Thomas H. Stones
The following letter was written by Alexander Miller (1832-1864) who enlisted as a private in Co. D, 25th Wisconsin Infantry on 8 August 1862. Alexander was born in Beaver county, Pennsylvania, the son of Hugh Miller (1806-1880) and Mary Lockhart (1813-1876). He was married in 1855 to Sarah J. Phillips and with their first born child relocated from Pennsylvania for Wisconsin. Their route took them down the Ohio river to the Mississippi and and then upriver to La Crosse, Wisconsin. From there they went by stage to Burns and then by ox team out to Big Creek Valley near Sparta where they established their home.
Alexander was with his regiment all through the war, including the Atlanta campaign, during which time he became seriously ill in early July 1864. He was taken to the Division hospital in Marietta. Later he was taken to Rome, Georgia, where he finally died on 10 October 1864. He kept a diary during his time in the service and he made his last entry on 9 October, “I am dying. God’s will be done. Oh God, look over and protect my dear wife and children from all the trials and temptations of the earth and finally let them meet me in heaven where we shall never more be parted.”
The following day, after his death, someone wrote in Alexander’s diary, “Alexander Miller died at half past 3 o’clock this morning. He did not seem to be in any pain. We have lost from among us one who was a true Christian, a Gentleman, and a Soldier. Farewell. God’s will be done.”
Alexander’s letter of 16 August 1863, transcribed below, gives the “particulars” of the death of one of his closest comrades, David H. Campbell, also of Co. D. David died of disease on 14 July 1863.
Alexander Miller’s Certificate of Service with his image in the banner above the words, “I love my Country.”
Transcription
Helena, Arkansas August 16th 1863
Friend Edwin,
I received your letter of July 31st last evening & make haste to reply to your enquiries although I expect you have heard the particulars before this as I wrote to Andrew Bradley all the particulars about our friend David’s decease. You ask what was the state of his mind, &c. His mind generally appeared calm. I have had considerable conversation with him on religious matters. He always expressed a strong desire & determination to live a Christian life & he showed his desire by his daily walk of conversation. I don’t think he was aware that he was so near his end yet I trust that all is well with him. He had been unwell for some months but wasn’t considered anything serious till the evening before his death when he took a congestive chill. It only lasted a few minutes. He appeared tolerably lively after he got over it but complained of being weaker in the morning. He walked to the hospital (about 20 rods) without assistance. He laid down on a cot. This was about 10 or half past 10 & about 12 M he took another congestive chill & passed away without a struggle.
David has been my confidential friend for several months & we were tent mates and bed fellows. He told me that he wanted Nancy Savery to have all his property in case of his death. He said he left a paper at Bradley’s showing what he wanted done with his property but I doubt it being of any use if his relations have a mind to take his property. But I hope that his wishes may be fulfilled.
David was much respected in our company. He was my most confidential friend. It pains me to think that our friendship is broken but God doeth all things well. May His holy will be done.
I received a letter from you to David dated the 17th of July (I think). The commander of the company reads all his letters, then gives them to me.
The weather is quite dry and warm here—about 90 degrees several hours a day. There is black clouds, thunder and lightning every night but they bring no rain and but little wind. The health of the regiment is very poor. There is only about 50 reported for duty. There is a few more that do light duty. Thomas Dunlevy 1 is not very well but is able to be about. He is my present bedfellow.
I had a spell of sickness while we were in the rear of Vicksburg. I got to feeling middling well & went on duty last week but I felt myself failing again in strength so I have quit work again. I feel well so long as I can be in the shade & keep cool but the sun soon brings me down. It is about 10 a.m. I would like to be at Big Creek to meet you all at the Prairie School House. We are almost totally deprived of Sabbath & Sanctuary privileges here. Oh, how I wish we had a chaplain to preach the word to us & council with the sick. But I hope that there is better days a coming.
Give my respects to all enquiring friends. Write as soon and often as convenient for I would be glad to have correspondence with any of David’s friends—more so with you, because you are an old neighbor. Hoping this may find you all well, I now close. From your friend, — A. Mill
Co. D, 25th Regiment Wisconsin Volunteers via Cairo, Illinois
1 Thomas Dunlevy of Co. D, 25th Wisconsin Infantry, died of wounds on 23 July 1864.
I believe this letter was written by 22 year-old Tabitha Duvall (1838-1920), the daughter of slaveholders Tobias H. Duvall (1806-1856) and Rebecca C. Onions (1808-1875) of Collington, Prince George’s County, Maryland. Tabitha’s younger brother, Tobias Duvall (1841-1915) enlisted in Co. C, 2nd Battalion Maryland Infantry and fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War.
Tabitha wrote the letter to her “dear friend” John Goring (1839-who served early in the war as a private in the Co. A of the 1st Michigan Infantry for three months and then reenlisted as the Sergeant Major of Co. D (later a 2nd Lieutenant in Co. A) in the 1st Michigan Infantry (three year) regiment. During the Battle of Gaine’s Mill on 27 June 1862, Goring was wounded and taken prisoner. He was exchanged in August 1862 for Lewis S. Chitwood of the 5th Alabama Infantry, and was soon after transferred to the Veteran Reserve Corps (VRC), 2nd Regiment, City of Detroit.
Goring was born in England and came to the United States sometime after the death of his father in 1854. He did not marry until July 1865 when he took Mary Elizabeth Reiger (1845-1906) as his wife, and worked as a life insurance agent in Detroit.
Transcription
Addressed to Sergeant Major Goring, 1st Regiment Michigan Infantry, Camp at Annapolis, Md.
Collington December 13 [1861]
Dear Friend,
Your very welcome letter has been duly received and I assure you it was perused with great pleasure. I had almost come to the conclusion that you had been ordered from good Old Maryland to the fiery land of South Carolina but am pleased to learn that you are not in such danger as you would there be exposed to as they have the black flag floating. I should think the Federals would not receive much mercy at their hands.
I have read a few extracts from the President’s Message and like them very much. I see a part of the Cabinet & Congress are trying for emancipating & arming the slaves. What do you think of it? As far as I am able to judge, they will not do their country any good by it. Enough of politics for I abominate them although I cannot help speaking on the subject sometimes. 1
I received a letter from Lizzie Duvall last week. She was very well & says they have had two regiments stationed on their farm since yours left but only remained a few days, burning all their fencing. Poor Uncle Duvall has had some heavy losses in his time & they seem to follow him up but I do not blame the soldiers. I expect I would do the same were I in their places encamped out & could not get fuel.
“The Soldier’s Return” (1848) song sheet dates to end of the Mexican War
I passed by the junction about two weeks ago on my way to Baltimore. I did not see anyone I knew except the Chaplain & Mrs. Wise. She went up to Baltimore on the same train I did. I kept a strict look out for a glimpse of you but looked in vain. Have you any relatives in Louisiana by the name of Goring. I am acquainted with a very elegant family there by that name. One of their daughters married Hon. Charles L. Scott who was a congressman from California & is now a private in the Rebel army. 2 I am not acquainted with any Duvalls at the Junction nor did not know any were living there but there are so many Duvalls in Prince George’s County that I think if you were to call every other person you meet here Duvall, you would not make a mistake.
We are having some charming weather now and I hope it will continue warm for the poor soldiers’ sake for I know they will suffer this winter. I am practicing a piece of music called the “Soldier’s Return” on the piano & I hope soon to have the pleasure of playing it for my friends who have gone to the war. I must now come to a close. Accept the best wishes from your sincere friend, — T. Duvall
1 The “war powers of the National government” to emancipate slaves were openly discussed in Northern newspapers as early as September 1861 but most editors cautioned against it for either one of two reasons (sometimes both) which were: doing so would only convince Southern states that it was Lincoln’s intent (as they claimed) to emancipate the slaves from the very outset of his administration. The second reason was probably the most widely adopted, which was to query the American public, “What is to become of the slaves supposing they are freed? Would it promote the welfare of the now struggling border States, if they were filled with roving bands of ignorant, untrained, partially irresponsible blacks? Who is to feed and clothe them, and educate their sluggish powers, and employ their reluctant services, and fit them gradually for self-dependence?” Arming the slaves did not become a topic for newspaper columns until a few months later when the “quarrel” between President Lincoln and Secretary of War Simeon Cameron was leaked to the media—Cameron taking the position that the former slaves ought to be armed and used against the Confederates.
2 Charles Lewis Scott (1827-1899) was born in Richmond, Virginia. He went to California in the gold rush of 1849 and the entered a law office in Sonoma. He served in the State Legislature in the mid 1850s and then was elected to the 35th US Congress, serving until 1861. When the American Civil War began, he resigned his seat in Congress and joined the Fourth Regiment, Alabama Volunteer Infantry, of the Confederate Army, serving as major. He never returned to California. In 1861 he suffered a serious leg wound at the First Battle of Bull Run. The severity of his leg pain caused him to resign his commission in 1862, after the Battle of Seven Pines. Charles was married to Anne Vivian Gorin (1836-1862) in Mobile, Alabama, in 1857. Anne Gorin (not Goring) never lived in Louisiana as far as I can learn. She seems to have grown up in Mobile, Alabama.
I could not find an image of Amos but here is one of Henry Benjamin Davis who served in the 64th Illinois and was killed at Marietta, Georgia, in August 1864. (Ancestry.com)
The following remarkable letter was written by Amos Reeves (1835-Aft1910) of Sterling, Whiteside county, Illinois, who enlisted as a private in Co. B of the 64th Illinois Infantry (“Yates’ Sharpshooters”) in November 1861. In his four-page letter to his cousin, Amos tells the tale of his capture along with James Fitzgerald of his company by Gen. Philip Roddey’s guerrillas in northwest Alabama on 29 May 1863. For the next several weeks the captives were shuffled under guard from one Confederate encampment to another while Amos says he tried “to make the best of a bad bargain.”
While a prisoner, Reeves learned that many of the rebels who guarded him were conscripts and had little interest in waging war. He says that he worked deceptively with his captors to gain favor whenever possible and to encourage rebels to desert, reassuring them that they would not be exchanged back to the Confederate army where they would be shot as deserters. Eventually Reeves and Fitzgerald were delivered to Libby Prison in Richmond, Virginia, where Reeves claimed they remained but four days before being exchanged and delivered to Camp Parole in Annapolis and later to Washington D. C. where he wrote the letter in August 1863.
Reeves was eventually sent back to Illinois, reenlisted as a veteran, and then ordered to his regiment where he resumed service and mustered out on 11 July 1865 at Louisville, Kentucky. Apparently Fitzgerald had had enough, He did not reenlist as a veteran and mustered out on 31 October 1864.
It does not appear that Amos ever married. He was enumerated in the 1910 US Census and he was mentioned in The Rockford Daily Register-Gazette in April 1897 where he was credited with having invented a “shoe scraper and cleaner which can be opened and closed so that is it not dangerous when there are children around…it cleans both the sole and the side of the foot.”
[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Richard Weiner and was transcribed and published on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Transcription
Addressed to Miss A. E. McClane, Sterling, Illinois
Parole Camp, Virginia August 11, 1863
My dear Cousin Lida.
Though far away and long silent, I often think of thee and memory and fancy bring many pleasing pictures to my mind, and though I see many dark pictures and gloomy clouds, the bright ones are the prettiest and I love to look at them.
It has been a long time since I have had an exchange of thought & sentiment with you though I have heard from you (I saw a letter Jennie sent to Stephen) and I always think you are among friends and enjoying life.
Well, my dear cousin, I am enjoying life. Life is as dear to me as ever though I remain in the army. I expect that you have heard that I have been making the Rebs a visit. So I have and had an interesting time of it though I was an unwilling guest. A sergeant of my company, Joseph Fitzgerald, and I were captured on the 29th of May and were robbed of our money, hats, and boots, &c. and we found ourselves among robbers, murderers, highwaymen, and that we would have to take things easy and not hoist false colors but keep our colors covered at times and then sometimes I could hoist before them the good old flag with all its glories and blessings and the pictures of the American Revolution, its heroes, the levers of justice, the cowboys and skinners, the tories and savages, and then I showed them their own perfidy and treachery.
But while I was with Gen. Roddey’s Guerrillas, I passed for a good Vallandigham man among the officers and most of the men and I found many of them that were conscripts and only wanted a chance to escape. They were ashamed of their crowd and as they had been told by their officer we made every deserter enlist or we sent them around for exchange so as to get one of our soldiers for them, they were afraid to come over. So I told them the truth and during the ten days that I stayed in their camp, there were over 30 of them deserted and went to our camp. Then I was taken to Tuscumbia, Alabama, where I stayed a week and found friends. Some of the men who were guarding us were good Union men and a good lady sent us a plenty of milk and some nice biscuits and butter twice and some ginger cake once. Then we were taken to Huntsville—Gen. Pillow’s Headquarters. From there to Chattanooga, then almost to Knoxville when the Yankees came in ahead of us and tore up the road and we had to go back, and then down to Atlanta, Ga., and from there to Augusta, Ga., then to Columbia, S. C., and Raleigh, N. C., Petersburg, and Richmond, Va. Stopped in Richmond in Libby Prison four days, then came by the way of the James River & Fort Monroe to Annapolis and from there to Washington D. C.
And here I found lots of friends (of whom I will tell in my next) and have been seeing the sights & learning all I could and trying to make the best of a bad bargain. I am sorry that I delayed writing so long and I wish I could give you a full history of my expedition.
A pen & watercolor drawn from a tintype of Philip J. Crewell, Co. F, 34th New York
The following letters were written by Philip J. Crewell (1840-1917) who enlisted for two year’s service on 1 May 1861 and entered Co. F, 34th New York Infantry as a corporal. The 34th New York Infantry, a two years regiment, were known as “The Herkimer Regiment,” and they served in the 2nd Corps, Army of the Potomac. They saw action at Yorktown; at Fair Oaks, where they lost 97 men, killed, wounded and missing; they lost heavily in the 7 Days Battles; at Antietam, they lost 154 men, killed, wounded, and missing; and they also fought at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville. Philip was discharged on 30 June 1863.
On May 1, 1863, the day prior to the Battle of Chancellorsville, six companies of the regiment mutinied and refused to fight on the grounds that their two year enlistment terms had expired, although in fact this was still almost two months away. Brig. Gen John Gibbon, who commanded the division that the 34th New York was in, brought up the 18th Massachusetts and gave them orders to shoot the men of the 34th New York if they wouldn’t fight. The regiment reformed and served dutifully during the Second Battle of Fredericksburg two days later. On June 30, the 34th New York mustered out and the two year men went home, the remaining companies, who had signed up for three years of service, being transferred to the 82nd New York Infantry.
Philip’s first letter also contains an account of a mutiny that occurred in the ranks of the 34th New York Infantry—this one taking place a year earlier. Philip’s version of events appear markedly different than the official newspaper accounts which don’t quite tell the whole story. Philip’s second letter describes in great detail the Battle of Antietam and his third letter was written approximately three weeks before the Battle of Chancellorsville.
Philip was the son of John Crewell and Alida Luke of German Flatts, Herkimer county, New York.
Letter 1
Camp West Point, or 3 miles up the Pamunky River from West Point to Richmond May 12th 1862
J. J. Crewell,
Brother, I now sit down to answer your letter of the 6th. I was very glad to receive a letter from you and to hear from you all, Now as to the boys and myself, I have not been well for about 10 days but I can say that I am well today. My ailment was the measles working in my head. I had caught a very bad cold and it all seemed to work in my head till it broke and then I am all right in a day or two. The rest of the boys are in good health, hoping these few lines will find you all the same.
Now as to the warfare, there hasn’t any happened of late that I shall speak of more than we still mean to invade on after the rebels and get them out of existence as soon as possible. The show is now that they mean to make a stand 3 miles this side of Richmond but that will be of not much account for we have fources coming from three different ways on them and I don’t think that there will be much fighting for us to do. Our division is the third reserve adn the battle must be a hard one when we have to come in.
We move on towards Richmond today. There’s 60,000 ahead of us within but short distance of the rebels. The fight will soon open there. This thing has got to come to a close in short.
Hartford Daily Courant, 11 June 1862
Now a little circumstance that has happened in the regiment. Last evening at dress parade, there was two companies that mutinied and stacked their arms. And now [I will tell you] the cause for it. In the first place, Co. A has held the right of the regiment ever since we have been in the service and Co. F is next. So Old Gorman 1 thought he would make a change in the regiment because his son [Richard L. Gorman 2] was in Co. C—that is the color company and he didn’t know but what if we were brought into action that his son would be in a little more danger than the rest of the companies. So Co. A if they had to rank to the senior captain, we would be the 4th and Co. A that was held to the right of the regiment would be the 9th comany. The companies that have stacked arms are A and B and the officers are Capt. [Davis J.] Rich [of Co. D], Capt. [William L.] Oswald [of Co. A], Lieutenant [Benjamin H.] Warford. These are the three officers. The talk is that the officers will be sent to Fort Lafayette and the privates to the rip raps to Fortress Monroe. There they will have to handle stone till their time is out and not receive one cents worth of pay. They was offered their arms this morning again but would not accept of them.
That is all. Write soon and as often as you can. Sell my [ ] if you can no matter what the rest says. I will be satisfied. From your brother, — Philip Crewell
Hoping soon to all meet again.
1 Willis Arnold Gorman (1814-1876) served as a Major in Gen. Lane’s regiment of Indiana Volunteers in the Mexican War where he was severely wounded at the Battle of Buena Vista. He was appointed governor of the territory of Minnesota in 1853 and later served in the Minnesota legislature. In the Civil War he began his service as the Colonel of the 1st Minnesota but was promoted to Brigadier-General of volunteers in September 1861 and commanded a Division that included the 34th New York during the Peninsula Campaign. According to Philip’s letter, the mutiny in the 34th originated from Gen. Gorman’s desire to have his son’s company’s letter designation changed which upset the seniority hierarchy of the officers in the regiment.
2 Richard L. Gorman was 26 years old when he enlisted on 27 April 1861 at St. Paul, Minn., to serve as a private in the 1st Minnesota Infantry. On 1 January 1862 he received a commission as 1st Lieutenant of Co. C, 34th New York Infantry. Richard was promoted to Captain of Co. A on 24 June 1862. He resigned his commission on 2 March 1863.
Clipping from the Cincinnati Daily Commercial. Monday, 2 June 1862
Letter 2
[Note: The following letter is from the private collection of Keith Fleckner and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Camp Bolivar Heights, Virginia Sunday, October 5th 1862
Brother,
Today I will try and give you a better description of the Battle [of Antietam] and the feelings of that day’s fight and the feelings of the 34th [New York Infantry] ever since they left their homes. Now as to the 17th day of last month, or ever since we left Tenleytown on the march to face the Rebels in Maryland, every soul of the 34th was anxious to once move to meet them face to face with the instrument of death in their hand. We all marched forward with a brave and willing tread, willing to grapple with our enemy at any moment. And so we marched forward till within sight of the butternut’s colored coats and there we laid whilst they were fighting for two days, and when they would throw a shell over in our camp, everyone was willing to face the messenger of death on equal footing.
So the next morning we were ordered to take eighty rounds of ammunition and every hand worked with a willingness to be ready at the time that we were to march. We all moved off together—some 30 thousand or more. We moved on, and about halfway between our camp and the line of battle, there was a stream of water of three feet deep that we had to ford, and every man moved forward getting wet up to his body, but not a word was spoken. Every eye looked forward to catch the first sight of the battlefield, for the earth was shaking with the heavy sound of cannon. Onward we moved and soon we came in sight of the enemy’s guns, and then we formed a line of battle and then pressed forward, passing over the battlefield where there lay thousands of dead.
Sedgwick’s Division was in front and Gorman’s Brigade on the left, and the left of that was the 34th—without any support whatever. Now they said that 34th was ordered by the left flank and that whilst attempting to execute the order under a most intense fire from their enemy’s lines. In the first place, we were marched right up in front, there being a heavy knoll between us and the enemy that is in the woods. We advanced to the brow of the knoll just so we could look down the other side, and there the enemy were, eight deep, laying with their faces down, within 15 rods [80 yards] of us. They lay there waiting to have us show our whole bodies, but we had too quick an eye and took our chances for the first fire. The order was given to hold low and so we did. We held in the face of the first line and the word was given, “fire!” when the whole line opened with one sheet of fire and lead which lifted them from the dirt, but to fall again, for our aim was sure. Them that was left run out of the woods, or attempted to, but a good many bit the dust.
We drove the whole line before us and they, seeing our left unsupported, they came back with five times our number, and then we held our ground till we were ordered back. When we left our lines, the rebels was within two rods of us, and had it not been for the knoll, they being coming up one side and we went down the other, or they would have shot every one of us. But their balls all went over [our heads], or the heaviest fire. Now, how could we have run so quick and held our ground till we fired 13 times, so that is the way we run.
Now, about the time we left home. When we left home there was some that said that Herkimer Country had got rid of all their loafers and thieves and that if they all got killed, or half of them, they wouldn’t be missed. But who has won the name of honor for that old county, and had her name among the highest? None but them that they call loafers. But when them loafers went to serve their country’s cause, they didn’t sell their lives for $2.00 and two but for $11 and no more. We have come and won the honor that they have to crow over, and we feel as though a share of that bounty had out to be ours. No more.
Your Brother, as ever — Philip Crewell
Good morning
Letter 3
Camp Falmouth, Va. Thursday, April 10, 1863
Father & Mother, sisters and brothers,
As I told you I would write before a move or battle if I had the opportunity and so I will write one letter to you all for I can’t write any more in one than in the others. We were to move yesterday morning at six o’clock but a heavy rain set in which has kept back the move. But today it is cleared up very nice. We expect orders every day or every moment to march. We have eight days rations ready. give in my knapsack and three in my haversack. They have taken all our clothes that wasn’t needed but I was on picket so I hadn’t any chance to send anything. I would liked to of sent off my dress coat and also a blanket for I have too much to carry but when I throw them I will stay with them whether I get taken prisoner or not.
But the time will seem long before I shall write again as I have no paper nor ink nor any to take along. But it seems still longer for me to wait for a letter from some of you. I have looked with an anxious eye when the mail arrived to see if I couldn’t hear from you but [I was] disappointed as usual.
Oh how I dread this next coming battle. It is likely all we ever will go in but then there is so few of us and still we have to take our place as a regiment in battle and fight five times our number, and by all appearance, they put great confidence in winning the next coming battle and without we fight with the determination of either dying on the battlefield or else conquer our enemy, why they will think that we don’t mean to fight because our time is so near out. But if I have to fight so much greater the odds as we have in other battles, why I don’t think the Old 34th will be very apt to stand.
But, [what] is the use of me writing to have your minds if I am to be spared and get through all safe. Why it will be so we must trust for the best. But after the firsts of May. I think my fighting is done with. The damn pay master hasn’t been around yet nor will he till after the next battle is over with for fear if there is any of the Boys skins out and they court martial them if they have their pay, they are all right. But if we have any money coming, they can take it. But the bounty they can’t touch nor have we had a chance to touch it.
Well, I haven’t much to write. The wagon train is moving up to the right. The talk is that Stonewall Jackson is in the rear of us with 50,000 men. If so, we will have to fall back. But I think we will have to cross the Rappahannock again and then a death struggle will take place for the Rebels look at the next battle as closing the war in [their] favor or else [our] crushing them forever.
Now I know this will make you feel uneasy but trust in my next if I am spared to write that you may hear better news. Write soon and don’t wait so long. I will have to send this without my stamp for I have neither money nor stamps. No more. I remain your son and brother, — Philip Crewell
Spared & Shared 23 