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 Cornelius Cheeseman (1836-1864) of West Rushville, Fairfield county, Ohio. He wrote the letter while serving in Co. A, 83rd Pennsylvania Infantry. He mustered into the regiment on 15 January 1864 and he died of chromic diarrhea in Lincoln Hospital, Washington D. C. on 29 September 1864.
Cornelis wrote the letter to his wife, Margaret (Jenkins) Cheeseman, whom he wed in April 1857. In his correspondence, Cornelius expresses his intention to “come home this fall,” despite being in the midst of a three-year enlistment; notably, he does not mention pursuing a medical discharge. Furthermore, he urges her to “say nothing” about this matter, implying a potential intention to desert. This raises the possibility that such a plan may have been his objective from the outset, as he resided in Ohio while enlisting in a Pennsylvania regiment, possibly as a substitute or to secure a bounty.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Distribution, Va. July 23rd 1864
Dearest one,
Once more I will try to write but it will only be a few lines as my time is short. You will be disappointed in not getting any money [but] I have not got my money yet as the raid in Maryland took us away from the hospital. Just as soon as I get it, I will send you come. I am going to come home this fall—that is certain. But I don’t know what time yet. Keep still. Say nothing. Then I will be safe. Don’t write till I write again for I expect to leave here soon and then I would not get it.
I came from Philadelphia to Washington by water. I was on water four days and three nights. We came around by Cape May and Cape Charles and Cape Henry and Fortress Monroe and Point Lookout. When we got out on sea, it was very rough and the boat came near sinking with us. There was 2500 men on board. About two o’clock at night, sometimes the boat was standing up on end or lying on her side. Three or four of the Boys rolled off into the sea in their sleep and sank to rise no more. I laid on the very top of the boat without anything over me. Goodbye, C. C. [to] M. C.
The author of this letter is believed to have been Nehemiah Nelson (b. 1806-1861) who kept a grocery store at 41 Commercial Street in Boston. He wrote the letter to Richard Fletcher Dunn (1788-1863), a native of Northumberland, England, who came to the United States in 1807 and worked as a copper-plate printer in Philadelphia until joining the merchant service in 1809 (with a fraudulent certificate of citizenship).
One of the artifacts proudly displayed by the Portsmouth Historical Society’s museum is Richard Fletcher Dunn’s artificial leg.Nelson’s letter informs us the leg was made by Southworth Howland.
He then signed up for the US Navy and participated in the War of 1812, serving aboard the USS Constitution under the command of Capt. Isaac Hull. He was on board during the engagement with the British frigate HMS Guerriere on the 19th of August 1812—an engagement that last more than half an hour resulting in the sinking of the HMSGuerriere and the loss of 39 crew members killed and 61 wounded. The USS Constitution, on the other hand, suffered little damage, thus earning her the nickname “Old Ironsides.” She suffered the loss of only 6 crew members and 7 wounded. Among the latter was Dunn who lost his left leg, blown off by a cannon ball.
Though lesser injuries might have warranted retirement from the service of his adopted country, Dunn remained steadfast in his commitment to the Navy, ultimately serving at the Kittery Navy Yard. He continued to serve under Capt. Hull (later Commodore Hull) at the Navy Yard, performing his duties on a wooden leg “as efficiently as many seamen with sound legs.” According to the 1860 US Census, he was still listed at Kittery, York County, Maine, with his occupation recorded as “Gunner, USN.” When inquired that year about his ongoing connection with the Navy, he replied, “Yes, I am gunner still, not now on duty, but awaiting orders.” He passed away on 1 February 1863, and his widow, Mary F. (Dixon) Dunn, died in 1872. They are buried in Eliot, Maine.
The USS Constitution battles the HMS Guerriere on 19 August 1812.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Boston [Massachusetts] June 29, 1843
Friend Dunn,
Yours of the 7th inst. was duly received and I was very glad to know that you took the remarks which I made in my last in the spirit in which they were made (viz) in all kindness. You said a letter from on the 22nd inst. but I had nothing worth relating. But this morning I am big with an important subject (viz) wooden legs.
A person came into my store this morning and asked if I knew Mr. Jones who was once in the Custom House. I told him I was well acquainted with him. Said he, I made his wooden leg. That led to a conversation about you and Mr. Bardine, and from what this man said, I should think Mr. Bardine was anything but a gentleman. You will understand me, this person did not talk harsh of him, but gave me a history of him for a number of years back.
In the first place, he remarked that Bardine was very poor, so much so that he got people to subscribe various sums and got this man (whose name is Southworth Howland 1 ) to make him a leg which he did and charged him $25 for it. Well, when he came for the leg, he brought only $20 and said he had collected only that sum, but would get the balance since Bardine told him to sue for the balance. But Howland thought it would cost more than it would come to so he let him run. And many other things he told me which makes me think that he—Bardine—would take the advantage of anyone that he could. Therefore, if you have not paid him the full amount, I would advise you not to until he can show you that your leg is worth the money which I very much doubt.
You know it is an old saying that two of a trade can never agree but this Mr. Howland did not talk to me as though he meant to say anything but what was strictly truth, and I thought him to be strictly a gentleman. He left his card with me and I should enclose it in this sheet, but knowing you would not be likely to want another leg at present and knowing also it would make heavy postage, I concluded not to do so, Wish I could give you on paper the ideas which I got from this man, but I am not good at description—therefore, I cannot. All I can say in conclusion on the subject is this. Don’t pay Bardine at present.
Suppose you know by the public journals that it is very sickly in our City at present. But thanks to my Heavenly Father, myself and family are in perfect health, and would hope this will find you and yours the same.
Am sorry you did not have a peek at the President [John Tyler] and am sorry also that the whole people here do not feel towards him as I do. Perhaps I am very much prejudiced in his favor. But this I can say, I think him to be the President of the United States and not the President of the Whig or Democratic party. Think I can give one very good reason why he was not received with so many huzzah’s as former Presidents have had and that is this—the people had not so much artificial patriotism in them as they had ten or twelve years ago, or before Washingtonianism had made the stride that it now has. Think if the people had had as much whiskey in them as they had in days gone by, the cheers would have been as hearty on the 15th and 17th as they were then. What think you of the subject? 2
Cannot fill up my sheet better than to give you an extract from Secretary [Abel C.] Upshur’s [Secy. of Navy] speech at the Faneuil Hall dinner on the 17th inst.
“And Sir, though it was Virginia’s fortune to furnish to the American army a leader whose peer the world never saw, though in all creation there has been but one Washington, and never will be another, and though he was wholly of Virginia, yet we are not selfish! His fame is bright enough to cast a luster over the whole land. We can share it truly with all our countrymen, and shall have enough.”
There, friend Dunn, have nearly filled the sheet with one thing and another, and now after wishing you all good health and happiness, will subscribe myself yours through life. — N. Nelson
Please write me when you have leisure. Excuse the blunders I have made in the foregoing.
1 Southworth Howland (1775-1853) learned the house carpenter’s trade but, being “an ingenious and skillful workman and was often called on to do jobs not entirely in the line of his trade. One of these was to alter and fit an artificial leg, imported from England by a neighbor; but he found it easier to make a new one, with such improvements as gave satisfaction to the wearer. His success became known, and during the next forty years he was called on to furnish artificial limbs for a large number of men and women residing in all parts of the United States, no other person manufacturing them in this country, so far as known, for many years after. He was a man of decided convictions and was prompt and fearless in defending them.”
2 This is a reference to the Washingtonian movement that was in full swing in the 1840 as were many other “ism’s.” The Washingtonian movement evaporated within a few short years. They became embroiled in the politics of the day. They were a victim of their own decision to support the elimination of all drinking in the US in that era through the temperance movement.
These letters were written by Mary Jane (“Jennie”) Cleland (1841-1929), the 22 year-old daughter of Arthur Cleland (b. 1803) and Mary Clark (b. 1814) of Defiance County, Ohio. Jennie’s father was born in Killy Leagh Parish, County Down, Ireland, and came to the United States with his parents in 1817, arriving on the schooner Vigilant. They landed at Wilmington, Delaware, and first resided at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, before moving to Jefferson County, Ohio.
Jennie wrote the letters to her younger brother, Corporal John W. Cleland (1843-18xx) who enlisted in Company F, 111th Ohio Ohio Infantry in September 1862 at age 19. He was promoted to 1st Sergeant in March 1863 about the time this letter was written. In April 1864, Sgt. Cleland was promoted to 2nd Lieutenant and in May 1865 to 1st Lieutenant. He was mustered out of the service with his company in June 1865 at Salisbury, North Carolina. After the war, I believe John moved to Decatur, Illinois.
In her March 1863 letter, Jennie addresses the escalating discontent among the citizens toward the Lincoln Administration and its management of the war aimed at putting down the rebellion. Even prior to the onset of hostilities, Defiance County had shown a strong preference for the Democrats, evidenced by Lincoln securing only 43% of the votes in 1860 (it fell to 42% in 1864). However, Jennie admitted that after two years, “this war seems to be making a great many Democrats. A Republican that ever had any sense can’t stand it now.” She expressed her concerns regarding the forthcoming draft, asserting that “the people won’t stand for it.” More troubling, she alleged that the Republicans and the Abolitionists—including the Governor of Indiana—were engaging in the stockpiling of weaponry, thereby leaving the opposition defenseless. She characterized the government as “the most corrupt in the world,” with “no regard for the Constitution,” and contended that the ruling party was acting without restraint.
In her July 1863 letter, Jennie articulates her vehement criticism of Abolitionists, as well as the Union leadership, whom she perceives as incompetent and ineffectual in their efforts to secure victory in the war through combat. She asserts that soldiers should be disenfranchised, arguing that their perspectives are shaped solely by the Lincoln administration’s propaganda, thus depriving them of the varied voices from the opposition.
Back in 2014, I transcribed another of Jennie’s 1863 letters and published it in Spared & Shared 7. [see 1863: Mary Jane Cleland to John W. Cleland] It was datelined from the Cleland home on 13 April 1863. In that letter, she wrote a lot about the treatment of William (“Bill”) J. Knight of Defiance county—one of Andrews’ Raiders who became famous in the “The Great Locomotive Race.” Bill was orphaned at a young age and was raised by his grandfather, Jacob Knight, in Farmer Township, where the the Cleland family lived. Bill learned something about steam engines while working at his grandfather’s sawmill and as an engineer for the Atlantic and Great Western Railroad. While serving in Company E of the 21st Ohio Infantry, Bill volunteered for a secret mission to destroy the Western and Atlantic Railroad link to Chattanooga, effectively isolating Atlanta. On 12 April 1862, the volunteers boarded at north-bound train for Marietta, Georgia, and at a stop north of town, they uncoupled the passenger cars and stole the locomotive—The General—and three freight cars. They were pursued and eventually overtaken and captured near Ringgold, but not until after having destroyed track and cut telegraph communications. James Andrews, the leader of the men, and seven others were hung, while eight of the soldiers were exchanged for Confederate prisoners. Bill Knight was among the group of eight soldiers who managed to escape their captors, earning him the Medal of Honor for his bravery.
Over the last several years I’ve transcribed several of John W. Cleland’s Civil War letters that were sold off to numerous private collections. You can find his letters by following any of the Spared & Shared active links below:
Addressed to J. W. Clelland, Esqr., Co. Founder, 111th Regt. O. V. I.. Fort Brailey, Bowling Green, Kentucky, Care of Capt. J. E. Hill
[Farmer township, Defiance county, Ohio] March 6, 1863
Dear brother,
I again seat myself to pen a few lines to let you know that we are all well and hope this may find you enjoying the same great blessing. Today is not very cold. Yesterday and day before were quite cold. James and Harley are sowing [grain]. Father is sitting in the kitchen reading the Defiance Democrat. William is poking round someplace too. He stayed home from school to cipher some today. He don’t get along with the Master very well. Margret is gone to school.
I suppose you have heard of the draft that is going to be soon. I am afraid there will be a fuss. The people are determined not to go. It is said that the Republicans or Abolitionists are arming themselves almost every place to force the people to obey Lincoln, and there is no arms for the opposite party. The Abolitionists have them all in their own hands. They have been preparing for it. They are having Secret Societies out in Indiana and it is thought there is some not far from here. The papers state that Gov. Morton of Indiana has been hoarding up arms and now he is putting them into the hands of the people. The party in power are having their own way now. I suppose it is the most corrupt government in the world. They have no regard for the Constitution or anything else, and make laws just to suit their own wicked designs.
Congress, I suppose, adjourned last Wednesday (day before yesterday). The Democrats are rejoicing that their time is out. If it had adjourned a good while ago, it would have been better for the country. I wish it had been Old Lincoln that was leaving his throne. Sam Knight 1 rejoiced some over it yesterday morning. He fired his cannon off a good many times. They said he was going to fire thirty-two times. I don’t know whether he did or not. And he raised his flag too. I suppose his Abolition neighbors would have considerable to say about it. They call his flag Secesh flag and he is a real Secesh himself (so they call him). He delights in plaguing his Abolition friends. I wish they could heard him rejoice clear to Washington, but I suppose they will know how the people are rejoicing. I suppose there never was a corrupt Congress adjourned before. No wonder the people would rejoice.
I heard that they were going to preach the funeral of Congress out in Bartholomew county, Indiana, on that day (Wednesday). I would like to have heard it. I suppose there would not be much mourning done on account of the death. Some of the Abolitionists don’t seem to want the war to end yet. Mr. [Joseph L.] Hosack said one day at Ridenour’s that he would go in for burning and destroying everything in the South. I did not think he was quite so bad as that. I don’t know what ought to be done with such a person. I hope he may have to suffer for it. One of the parties will be apt to go down. If the Democrat Party is put down, then our country’s course is hopeless. If the Republicans go down, then we may look for better things. This war seems to be making a great many Democrats. A Republican that ever had any sense, can’t stand it now.
I got a letter from Christie Browning yesterday. She says if Lewis had only got to come home, he might have lived. His captain and the chaplain both tried to get him a discharge, but they would not let him off. She thinks the officers are perfect tyrants. She said she pitied the soldiers for they were not fighting for what they volunteered to (viz: the Constitution but for the Negro). If I was a soldier, I would not reenlist. I would rather unlist if I could.
Dan Kleckner was married last week to a girl out by Maysville. He and his wife’s brother were both married. They were going to go East and stay two or three weeks. Alfred Ridenour was not married as we thought. You boys down there needn’t feel bad if the folks are getting married up here. There is good boys enough to be found without going to Bowling Green. Some of the boys have been sending home their likenesses. They look kind of natural. They look quite fleshy about the head, but I suppose some of you are getting fleshy. I must leave room for William to write some. So no more at present. Your sister, — Jennie
Brother John, I am well at present. Tiger went off last night on a scouting expedition and was overtaken by the enemy and got shot on the top of the head. He come home this morning about 8 o’clock. I received your likeness two weeks ago. It looks very natural. Your head has growed some. So has your nose too. Your teeth looks kind of savage too. I suppose you all look kind of savage down there. I guess I will get Sam Knight to make a frame for it. We have got our sugar camp opened. We have got five trees. I guess I have nothing more to write. — William Cleland
1 Samuel D. Knight (b. 1826) was a farmer in Farmer township, Defiance county, Ohio. He was appointed postmaster in 1850 and again in 1856 by Democratic administrations. In the 1860 US Census, he was enumerated in Farmer township with his wife Amanda (Johnson) Knight and five children; his occupation given as “mechanic.”
Letter 2
[The following letter comes from the personal collection of Jonathan White and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Monday morning July 13, 1863
Dear Brother,
It is my turn to write again. I thought I would commence this morning. We have the harvest hands today again. They are cutting the field across the road from the house. They cut two days last week. They will most finish here tomorrow. Then they have some to cut at Ridenour’s. Wheat seems to be very heavy this year. Our folks think they will have a thousand bushel. The girls have to work out more this harvest than ever before. They have to rake and bind and help to make hay. I helped a little with the hay. Father and I hauled in four loads of hay last week when James and William were at Berean’s. You know that is something I never done before. I have to brag a little over it of course. I may have to help some more before the wheat is hauled in. Our hired hand ain’t much use. He is always sick when there is the most work to do and we can’t get any other now. He had the chills last week and I guess he has them yet.
We got your letter day before yesterday that you finished the 29th of June. I look a little for one Wednesday again. Anna Hill got one that was dated July 2nd. You were at Tourkinsville then. Maybe you are at Glasgow by this time.
I’ll bet you will have the Rheumatism after marching. There you were running away down pretty near to Tennessee and [John Hunt] Morgan up in the northern part of Kentucky. I heard he had got into Indiana but it may not be so. He is too smart for you fellows. He knows what he is doing all the time. Some of the rest don’t (that is, our officers). There is not very many smart generals in the Northern army because they won’t have any if they find he is worth anything. The war will not end by fighting. The Abolitionists say there is no way to end it but by fighting it out. But the majority (that is the democrats now) think it will never be ended in that way. They would get the hearty support of the people if things were carried on anything as they should be—that is, to restore the Union and preserve the Constitution and laws. But the leading men in power don’t want the Union and they don’t care for the Constitution. And the Democrats don’t want to support any such policy if they can help it.
There is no use in it. Everything seems to be against the North. I don’t know but they have been gaining some lately but not as much as they ought and I don’t believe the North will ever whip. They might as well settle it some other way than by fighting for it will have to be done at last anyway. There is nothing honorable about them. When the Southern armies destroy or take anything, they pay for it sometimes as well as they can. Of course some of them don’t care, but as a general thing I just believe they act more honorable than ours do. They destroy things often when it is not really necessary just because they hate the South. This is not the right kind of spirit. If they do wrong, that is no reason that we should do wrong to them.
The Abolitionists say now that if Vallandigham had not been in the South, the rebels would not have come into Pennsylvania. If that is so, then Old Abe is the traitor for sending him there to give them information. Little Val is traveling home again. He is in Canada, or was the latest account. I believe it would be better not to let the soldiers vote this fall. Jason Burbic thinks so too, because the soldiers most places only get to hear one side of the question (that is the Abolition side). Democratic papers are not allowed in the army very much. Grant’s army is the only one that Democrat papers get into, and it does the best business. Now why is this if Democratic papers demoralize the army. If they did not get so many nasty, lying Abolition papers, it would be better. And if the soldiers do get to vote, they will not be apt to be allowed to vote their sentiments. The Abolitionists have considerable to say about our pic-nic on the fourth. They call it a secesh dinner and that there was nothing fit to eat and that they were all drunk, &c. &c. &c. &c. If they can get up a better pic-nic let them do it.
I don’t hear much about E. M. Brown these times. He don’t get to write as much round here to the girls as he did. Poor little fellow, I know if there was going to be a battle, he would be sick. He would take some pills before the battle brakes. The Abolitionists have a great time here with the butternuts pulling them off the Democrats. Maybe some of the boys will get home on furlough again if you get back to Glasgow. We are all well and kicking round as usual. Your Sister — Jennie Cleland
The following letter was written by Aaron Hayden Jones (1813-1868), the son of Stephen Jones (1784-1856) and Elizabeth Brackett Young (1789-1828) of Eastport, Washington county, Maine. Aaron was the oldest son of 11 children. Aaron and his younger brother Thomas Gleason Jones (1817-1869) were in the wholesale and retail provision business in Augusta, Georgia, prior to the Civil War.
Aaron’s broken headstone in an Augusta Cemetery.
It seems Aaron and his brother Thomas worked in different firms, Thomas having previously operated in Dubuque, Iowa, before coming to Atlanta. A newspaper article published in a Dubuque newspaper in May 1861 under the title, “A Race for Life” contends that Thomas was driven out of Augusta under threat of being tarred and feathered because he was a “loud-mouthed Abolitionist” and was rumored to have stumped the State of Iowa for Fremont in 1856. He supposedly returned to Iowa having left all his assets behind. Once the citizens of Augusta read this article, they approached Aaron to attest to the veracity of this story. In response, Aaron wrote a letter to the editor of the Augusta paper, the Daily Constitutionalist (21 June 1861) refuting the “facts” in this story, alleging that Thomas was never a successful businessman and left Augusta penniless and in debt. He was no Abolitionist either, according to Aaron, and even speculated in the sale of slaves while living in Georgia. [See articles clipped from newspapers in footnotes below.]
Neither brother lived long after the war. Thomas moved his wife and children to Anoka, Minnesota, where he became a life insurance agent and died of “apoplexy” in 1869. Aaron appears to have maintained his business throughout the Civil War in Augusta but no doubt suffered as the prolonged war made keeping his shelves stocked more and more difficult. He died in 1868 at the age of 55. During the war, he filled the ranks occasionally with the Home Guard militia.
Aaron’s letter gives us a glimpse of Augusta in the first full month of the Civil War. His letter alludes to the disruption of the mails caused by the collapse of the mail delivery system in the South as well as the delivery of goods up the Savannah River. His letter also informs us of the formation of a women’s military organization in Augusta equipped and trained for home defense. I could not corroborate this claim from other accounts but believe Aaron’s statement to be factual based upon the evidence of other such companies being formed, the most notable and frequently referenced being Nancy Hart’s Militia formed in LaGrange, Troup County, Georgia. In 1861, when 1,300 men left LaGrange, leaving the town particularly vulnerable to Union attack because of its location midway between Atlanta and the Confederacy’s first capital at Montgomery, Alabama, two of the soldier’s wives—Nancy Hill Morgan and Mary Alford Heard—decided to form a female military company. Almost forty women attended, ready to do their part to defend their homes and families.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Augusta, [Georgia] May 17th 1861
W. G. Porter, Esq.
Dear sir, yours of 10th came to hand today. You do not mention whether you got the $100 sent on by Mr. Metcalf but I presume you have. I think I have got all the letters you name. The mails were blocked up a long time and then everything came through in a lump. As the mails are now open, I hope this will reach you. We are glad to hear that Edgar will not be likely to have any trouble. We have full confidence that you and Mrs. Porter will take good care of him. We are all well here. Like yourself, I can but hope we may all see brighter days soon. Things look gloomy enough now. Even the women are arming and forming companies here. A few days ago a company [of women] turned out to salute a company going away. They were sixty strong and carried rifles.
Let us hope that the terrible excitement now raging is the precursor of a calm. If hostilities break out, it will be a terrible conflict. May God avert the impending storm. If things shut down, we will still continue to write you occasionally and get it to you by some conveyance.
There is not much excitement here. One would hardly realize that we are in a state of war but for the troops constantly passing through. We are blocked up but there are plenty of goods in the country for a year. One firm had over $50,000 of goods on hand which are largely enhanced in value. Provisions are high and with no doubt go higher though there is no scarcity at all and not likely to be. I went at once before the advance and laid in a full year’s supply of sugar, coffee, tea, bacon, flour, rice, syrup, salt, spices, and butter as long as it will keep. I could live now a year without the least privation if my house were a beleaguered castle. I wanted to keep clear of high prices.
We fear poor Het and her children will have a hard time if this state of things hold long. I will write a few lines to Edgar on a separate sheet. Love to all. Yours truly, — A. H. Jones
The following letter was written William (“Bill”) H. Debell (1844-1864) who accepted a $70 bounty and enlisted when he was 18 as a private in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He was the son of Daniel W. DeBell (1810-1881)—sometimes spelled Dibble—and Phebe Ann Fairchild (1814-1910) of Danby, Tompkins county, New York. Bill was not close to his father. His father and mother separated in January 1858 leaving Phebe without property and offered no further support to his wife and the four children (including Bill) who were left in the household. In the 1850 census, the DeBell family was enumerated in Shandaken, Ulster county, New York, where Bill’s father worked as a millwright. At that time, there seven children in the family ranging in age from 1 to 16.
(courtesy Don Andrew Collection)
Company A of the 109th New York Infantry was primarily recruited from the towns of Newfield, Caroline, and Danby in Tompkins County, New York. Bill took his place in the ranks with other young men from Tompkins county, many of whom were his friends from Danby. The Regiment began its assignment during the first week of September, 1862. A few days later several companies were detached to garrison Laurel, MD (about 8 miles SE of Annapolis Junction) to guard the main railroad junctions located there. The 109th remained at this assignment but was reassigned in October 1862 to the 22nd Army Corps as railroad guards and part of the 22nd’s overall defense of the Capital at Washington, DC against the threat of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia’s presumed invasion. The invasion never came. Their job was tedious and boring and they saw no military action of any kind.
The 109th did its duty from September 1862, the remainder of 1862, all of 1863 and through the end of March 1864. Then in April, 1864 the 109th was ordered to join the 9th Army Corps then assembling at Annapolis, MD in preparation for action against General Lee at Petersburg, VA. The 109th Regiment became part of Hartranft’s battle-tried 1st Brigade, Wilcox’s 3rd Division, 9th Army Corps, Army of the Potomac. The 9th Corps left Annapolis on 23 April, 1864 headed for the crossing at the Rapidan arriving there on the 4th of May, 1864. The next morning, 5 May, 1864, the 109th, after crossing the Rapidan as one of the lead units, were immediately fully engaged with the enemy in the Battle of the Wilderness. Though they had been in the service 1 year, 8 months, and 9 days since they organized in the late summer of 1862 at Binghamton, New York, it was their first taste of battle.
Bill would go on to fight in eight major pitched battles with the 109th New York until he was finally cut down in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864. there are seven letters presented here by Bill DeBell and two by William A. Hance, a comrade in Co. A who wrote letters to Bill’s family informing them and providing some details of Bill’s death.
These letters are from the personal collection of Don Andrew who sent them to me for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
Those interested in the 109th New York may find any of the following published on Spared & Shared equally good reading:
It is with mingled emotions of joy that I now write you. I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you the same. Ma, I am away down South among the rebels. We left Binghamton last Sauturday morning and arrived at this Junction on Monday noon. Our camp is situated in a nice place. It is in a ten-acre lot, all level land. We are situated in a little valley all surrounded with woods. The railroad runs right in front of our camp. There are several of the rebels around through the woods. Two of them were caught today and put in the guard house. I don’t know what they will do with them.
Monday morning, 8 o’clock a.m. Ma, you must excuse me for not finishing this before for there is so much excitement here at present that it is hard for me to get my thoughts together but I will try and finish. Our regiment is all broke up. Five of our companies is down to Washington guarding a railroad bridge and David and myself and ten others is about a mile from camp guarding a switch. We have caught several prisoners—[Union] deserters mostly. Last night we caught a rebel spy. We took him up to the guard house. I think it will be pretty hard on him. I suppose you have heard that Old [Stonewall] Jackson and forty thousand troops have crossed the Potomac. We expect they will attack us before long. This is one of their spies.
I like a soldier’s life very well so far but I would like to see home once more and tell Mary, Carrie, and Hattie that I would like to see them all very much but I cannot yet a spell. The best I can do is to send you all my love and a kiss. Give Annie my love too. I have received all of my pay and have lent David 30 of it and have kept the rest to use. He said he would pay me as son as he got his month’s pay. Did I do right, Ma? I want you to send me all of your pictures. I have got Mary’s. No more at present so goodbye from your own son, — Will H. DeBell
Direct to Annapolis Junction, Maryland Co. A, 109th Regt. N. Y. State Volunteers in care of B. R. McAllaster. Write as soon as you get this.
Letter 2
[Not transcribed. Words to Just Before the Battle, Mother.]
Letter 3
[Editor’s Note: In this 16 page letter to his mother of 17 May, 1864, Bill describes seeing the elephant for the first time.]
Spotsylvania Court House, Va. May 17th 1864
Dear Ma,
Once more I am seated to write to you although I may never get the letter finished for I am on picket within 20 rods [@ 100 yards] of the enemy and they are firing at us every moment. There are three of us on a post and we have a little breastwork thrown up before us about two feet high. I am sitting close down behind it writing on my cartridge box & every moment a bullet whistles over my head. I wrote you a letter when we was at Warrington Junction. Little did I think then that we was coming so soon to the front but we left there the day after I wrote to you and never stopped until we arrived at Wilderness Church. We was three days a marching it. We crossed the Rapidan in the afternoon & was marched about 5 miles & put on picket—
Dear Ma, just as I wrote the word picket, one of the men that was on post with me was shot through both thighs [?]. Poor fellow. I sent to the regiment and some of his company came and got him.
—and kept on all night and about 5 o’clock in the morning we fell in and was marched about 3 miles without any breakfast to the battlefield. Oh! I cannot tell my feelings when we was marched up in front of the Rebel batteries, the shell a flying. but we did not flinch and only 8 of us men was wounded, none killed.
About noon we fell in [and] marched off to the left. As we was marching by the left flank, the rebels poured a whole volley into us that confused and excited us and we fronted and fired on them and we fought there all the afternoon and only three got wounded out of our company, none killed. We made four charges and drove the enemy out of their rifle pits and captured about 5 prisoners. Our firing ceased about dark and we built breastworks and lay in them two or three days and held our position. Then one night the rebels set up a terrible hootin’ and hollerin’ and we thought they was agoing to charge on us but it was [only] to blind a movement. They moved off to our right so that night about 2 o’clock we was ordered to fall in and was marched until daylight and made a halt for breakfast after which we took up the line of march again & marched until about 4 p.m. and made a halt and drew 5 days rations.
Stayed there until 5 in the morning and marched again to this place & was double quicked up a long hill through shot and shell to the very front, formed in line, and drove the enemy back. Then we throwed up breastworks with our bayonets and plates & lay there two or three days, the enemy making several desperate attacks to break our line but did not.
On May 11th, they made their last attempt at that point and here is memoranda I kept from that time. “May 11th, 6 p.m. The enemy commenced shelling us in our rifle pits and their pickets advanced on us at the same time so we sent out 100 men out of our regiment as skirmishers and they advanced and drove them back a ways. Then our batteries opened on them and soon silenced theirs. Then we was ordered to advance out of our pits so the whole Brigade marched over and cautiously approached them. We—the 109th—had went only a short distance when we was ordered to support the 8th Michigan Regiment. We was marched by the right face, then left flank and formed in about 50 rods behind them and lay down flat. The bullets flew very thick but there was but a few wounded. One poor fellow from the 8th Michigan got his leg shot off.
Well, we lay in that position about an hour. Then we was ordered to form a junction with the breastworks we had just left, so the Brigade formed in line and marched directly southeast until we came to a piece of woods. Then we changed direction to the right and marched southwest about a mile and fronted, then lay down & watched until morning. At daylight we was ordered to build breastworks so we went at them and have them done and are waiting for the attack.
It is Friday, 13th. I left off writing the 11th while in the above named breastworks. Well, we had no attack that day. About 3 o’clock we was ordered to fall in. We did so and was marched to the rear—that is, off the field. Then it commenced raining very hard. Well, we was marched down in an open field and those that had tents put them up and those that did not had to take the rain. Well we had just got our suppers a cooking and the order came to fall in double quick. We did so and was marched back about halfway to the field and halted and we stood there in the rain and mud about an hour (Ma, could you but have known my thoughts while standing there, cold and wet. Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home!) Then the order came to about face and was marched back where we started from and camped down. Our things was all wet and it was quite cold.
Well [Daniel] Mc[Pherson] & G[eorge] Roe & me went off and got a couple of rods of rails apiece and built a large fire and we spread our rubber blankets and lay down. (We had nothing to put over us for we threw everything away in the first battle at Wilderness Church.) We all being very tired, soon fell asleep and slept sound until 2 o’clock. Then we was woke up and packed our things and marched up here where I now sit and was formed in line of battle but was held in reserve until noon. Then we was ordered to charge on a Rebel battery and we marched up in the edge of the woods andjust as we got there, they opened upon [us] with shot and shell and our men fell like grass before a scythe. But on we went, but did not get the battery. We had to fall back and when we got out of the woods, all we could count out of 400 was 150. We was cut bad, I tell you. General Burnside said it was the boldest charge that he ever saw made. He said he would remember us. We are called a brave regiment. Several other regiments broke and run but ours stood right up to the mark.
Well, after we came back, we went at it and built breastworks—(in the morning it commenced raining and rained very hard all day)—so that we could hold our position. Well we got them done and got in them, mud up to our knees, but we had to lie down and we lay there all night and are here yet and this is the 3rd day.
May 15th—Well here we are yet and still it rains and the mud. Last night the enemy’s pickets bothered us all night and it was so cold and it rained so hard that it was very uncomfortable. It is morning now and we are still in the mud and rain but there is some very encouraging news and it [illegible]…Colonel told us that we had taken 8,000 prisoners and 40 pieces of artillery and also Richmond was in our possession. I hope it is so. I just heard from our chaplain that there was two Corps down to the rear that was agoing to relieve us and I must say I hope they will for this is the tenth day we have been out to the very front of the battle. I never heard of such a thing before—keeping men out on the front so long without a relief. Our men are getting very tired and wore out (tell Sarh she would not know the 109th if she should see it now. The regiment looks when it’s all together about like a good company).
It is Sunday the 15th. We are still in the pit and we begin to think we are agoing to stay in them for all being relieved. The enemy was very quiet in our front last night, but on our left they had a heavy battle. Yesterday afternoon the Johnnies charged on one of our batteries & they opened on them with 16 pieces and cut them full as bad as they did us the 12th. The Rebel sharpshooters troubles us very much for every time one of us raises our heads or stirs around, they shoot at us too and there was two men from some other regiment got killed yesterday, the 12th, and one today. Every man that goes out has to go on his hands and knees or go half double. The officers is the main thing they are after.
May 16th. Still in the entrenchments. The sharpshooters trouble us yet but they do not advance. We sent out a heavy line of skirmishers today so as to advance our pickets. Done t without much trouble. Last night our Corps fetched us up a kettle of beef stew. It was good, I tell you, for we was all very hungry.
May 18th. There is my memoranda from the 11th to 17th. I am back in with the company. I was relieved last night about six o’clock from picket. Came here and George Roe 1 had my supper ready for me. I eat it and we spread our rubber [blankets] and lay down. Slept until morning when we was woke up for our coffee. After we drank that and eat our crackers, we was startled by the rattle of musketry on our front. We jumped to our places, sat there a spell, and found it was nothing but the pickets. But about half an hour and our batteries opened, the enemy’s replied, and they kept up all the forenoon. It has ceased now but expect every moment when they will open again but it is hopeful that they will keep still for them shells are very disagreeable—especially when they come so close that the wind of one will blow your hat off as one did me the 12th in that battle. I have always heard say it was an awful feeling to go into battle but never thought it was such a feeling as it really is. I can’t begin to tell nor explain but after you have been in a little while, you don’t mind it so much.
There is 230 killed, wounded and missing in the battle, 21 out of our company. Namely: May 6th, wounded, John Conners in the arm; Peter Swint [in the] leg, and William Smith [in the] hand. May 12th, wounded, Henry Beardsley [in the] leg. John Sumers [in the] hip, Colins Causdale [in the] hand, Alfred Earsley [in the] hand, Sturgis Williams [in the] hand, Dwight Ostrander [in the] leg, Philander Evans [in the] leg, Horace Todd [on the] arm, Charles Truesdell [in the] arm, Lewnis Purdy [in the] leg. Killed, John [G.] Nichols, Amos Barber, Henry Person, Abram Scales, George Pierson, William Lours. Missing, Harrison Little. These are all from our company.
After we fought the last battle, the Capt. Mc[Allister] was taken sick and went to Fredericksburg to the hospital. Col. [Benjamin F.] Tracy has resigned. The Lt. Colonel [Isaac S. Catlin] takes his place.
Ma, just imagine you are looking on a side hill and along the edge of a piece of woods along which you see a large ditch dug (or first say it has been raining a week very hard) with the dust all thrown out on one side making a bank high enough so that a man can stand on his feet and look over and occasionally you will see a small piece of [ ] stuck up. Well down in this pit or ditch you will see all along against the bank a row of guns with bayonets on and down in the bottom you will see men dying in all shapes in the mind. In imaging this, you will see the 109th and about the center of the pit you will see one with a small piece of board on his knee with pencil & paper writing. You may guess who it is. This paper I picked up in the battlefield. Some of the boys said that they saw David go through Chancellorsville the other day. You will, perhaps, know more about it than I would for I presume you hear from him and I don’t. I hope he has not been in this last battle for there was a large number of cavalry captured and poor Franky might have been one of them.
Ma, I will have to bring this to a close for the muskets begin to rattle and I am afraid I cannot send it at all. Goodbye. Write soon. — Will H. DeBell
Goodbye all until you hear from me again. Write soon.
1 George Roe (1831-1864) served with Bill DeBell in Co. A, 109th New York. They were both from Danby in Tompkins county, New York. Three of his letters were published on Spared & Shared in April 2025 (see 1863: George W. Roe to Sarah Adeline (McPherson) Roe.) In his letter of 9 September 1863 written from Annapolis, George mentions William DeBell as follows: “Reuben Youngs got his face severely burned this afternoon. It happened in this way. William DeBell—one of our tent mates—got a cannon cartridge while on patrol down to Savage & brought it to camp & hung it up in the tent. While he was out, Harrison [Tompkins] and Reuben thought they would come a joke on Bill so Rube took the powder & some matches & went out back to explode it. He placed a piece of paper on the powder & placed fire at the other end. He thought it was not going & so he moved the paper so that the wind would blow it towards the powder [and] at that instant, sparks blew into the powder & it exploded & burned his face quite badly. I think, however, he will get along without much trouble as it is not burned very deep.”
Letter 4
Near Petersburg, Virginia June 20, 1864
Dear Ma,
Again I am seated to write a few lines to you. Since I last wrote to you, we have [illegible due to crease in paper] marching and fighting. The night of the same day I wrote my last letter, we evacuated our position & started we knew not where. We started as soon as it was dark & marched all night and all day, stopping just long enough to make a little [illegible due to crease in paper]…all we had to eat was corn & coffee and when we got to the James River we made a half of one day & drew rations and started again just night and they marched us all night and next day until about 3 o’clock when we halted and made a little coffee.
Then we was marched through a piece of woods and formed in line (the rebs had made a stand), joining on the 2nd Corps line, and at 5 o’clock we advanced or rather charged on their works. The order came “Fix bayonets, charge double quick” made, we started with a loud yell through one of the heaviest fires I ever was in, the enemy pouring the grape and canister in us from three sides from a line of forts that was built behind their breastworks. But on we went and took them all—breastworks, forts, cannon, horses and part of the men. Well we charged and fought all night and next day and next night until about 12 o’clock when we was relieved and came to this place where I now sit. It is what we call the rear.
There are three lines of battle in our front. We are resting. When we came out of the last charge, all the guns our regiment could stack was 23. A good many straggled but all we can stack now is [ ]. We was cut up very bad. We are expecting every moment when we will have to go in again. The 6th Corps is fighting now very hard on our right. There is a line of works in our front that has got to be taken and it is the opinion of most all our division that we will have to make the charge but I hope not for I don’t like these charges.
We are in sight of Petersburg now and if we have as good luck as we have had, it will soon be ours. We have got our batteries in a good position and I think they will do good execution.
Dear me, the mail carrier has just come after the mail so I will have to close hoping and praying that war will soon close & I will be permitted to return to you again. May God save, bless and protect you all. From your affectionate son. — Will H. DeBell
There has two mails come in and I have received no letter. Write often. My love to you all.
P. S. Our batteries is now throwing shells into Petersburg. We are in sight of there. We have got the rebs in such a position so that they cannot use their batteries unless they sink them in the ground so that nothing is above ground but the muzzle.
Letter 5
On picket near Petersburg, Va. June 28, 1864
Dear Ma,
Again I am seated to write you a few lines to inform you that I am still alive and well and hope this will find you all the same. I have written two letters to you since I have received any. Our mail comes in regular every day & I can’t imagine why I don’t get them. I can’t think but what you have written but maybe I will get one tomorrow so I will wait patiently.
I came on picket night before last & have been on nearly 48 hours. I was to be relieved last night but the whole regiment came out on the picket line to stay 48 hours so I had to stay with them so that will keep me on 84 hours. I was on the advance line yesterday which is within a stones throw of the reb’s main line. They have got a very strong line. Every little ways they have a piece of artillery planted. Both armies are building and strengthening their works. Our men are preparing to siege them and I hardly think there will be much infantry fighting unless they attack our lines and that is just what we want so we don’t feel much alarmed.
The rebs have got two large forts in sight of us & our men are digging under one of them to blow it up. They are half way now and I think in the course of a week, they will lift it with powder. Our armies has got an awful strong position here. Artillery siege pieces & mortars—there is no end to them. We all expect a hard time when they commence the siege. The rebs are getting the range of us with their mortars now. Every once in a while a large fifty to a hundred pound shell will come over in our lines and burst.
In the 2nd Corps joining on our corps there is brass band playing “When this Cruel War is Over.” Oh it does sound splendid. The sun is down and it is cool & pleasant. All is quiet except the picket firing. Oh, if it was only in time of peace and I was sitting in the door of our house, just had my supper, and all the work done, oh how we could enjoy ourselves. Oh, then if I could hear a band play, I could enjoy it. But here it sounds so lonely and brings afresh all the ties of home. Sometimes when I am sitting all alone and get to thinking of my loves ones at home, then the thought of where I am comes back again. Well I won’t try to tell the feeling that comes over me for a few moments. Then after that, it will be three or four days, perhaps a week, before I think of it again. But enough of this.
I expect we will have a lively time tonight with the mortars from both sides for our men has got ever so many of them (mortars) planted and I think they will open them as soon as it is dark & it is so near that now I will have to stop writing until tomorrow. So good night.
Wednesday, June 29th & 4 p.m. Again I am seated. I have just had a good nap and finished a part of a can of beans that I had left from my dinner and I feel some better. It was not as I expected last night—about the shelling. All was quiet except the pickets. The Rebs kept up a steady fire all night which made it very disagreeable for their bullets come fairly closae—especially to where I lay. I have got a little post about ten feet from the company all alone by myself. It would be very pleasant if it was not for them (the bullets). It is a little hole dug in the ground about two feet deep and long enough to lie down in with the dirt all thrown upon one side for a breastwork. Then up on the top of that, I have a heavy log laid with holes under to look through. Then I have my piece of tent & rubber blanket put together for a shelter or shade and my wool blanket under me.
Our regiment grows smaller and smaller as the time passes on. Most every day, one or more of our men is killed. Last Saturday a man in our company by the name og John Cortright [of Owego] was killed and one in Co. K day before yesterday by the name of Edward [Edwin] Wilber [of Owego] and another wounded. I did not hear his name. And today one of Co. F was shot through the right eye and was killed instantly. Take our sick and all together our regiment won’t number over 400 and when we came in the field, it was 1015 strong so you can see that we have been cut up pretty bad.
Our men has just sent mortars and the rebs is replying but the shells from both sides goes over us. Well Ma, it is getting late and I will have to close for we are to be relieved as soon as it is dark and I will have to get my supper and pack up my things. I wish you all could take supper with me tonight. I am going to have fried pork, fried hard tack, ad coffee. But I think I had rather take supper with you but I hope you will eat just as though I was there & I will try and eat just as though you was here. Do all of you write to me often. I bid you all an affectionate goodbye until you hear from me again. I remain your affectionate son, — Will H. DeBell
Washington D. C. Co. A, 109th N. Y. S. V. 1st Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th Army Corps
P. S. I give my love to all the girls and tell them to write. It is quite lonesome here in the company for me now for all of my old tent mates is away. George is sick, off to the hospital. Also [William] H. Forsyth and D[aniel] McPherson is Co. cook. He only comes to the company once in a while.
Letter 6
Still on the Front Line near Petersburg, Va. July 3rd 1864
Dear Ma,
Again I am seated to write to you. I received your long looked for letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you and hear you was well. I am well and doing as well as can be expected. It is all quiet in our front but on the right and left, there is some fighting every day. But perhaps you hear of the news as quick or quicker than we do. I hear it rumored that the siege is to commence tomorrow but we can’t tell much about it. I hardly know how to commence or finish this unless I commence back and give you the details of my diary from the time we left Cold Harbor.
Sunday, June 12th. Still on duty as supporting picket of the fort. There is great excitement today and it is said the 9th Corps evacuates their position.
13th—As I expected, last night as soon as darkness covered our movements, moved out in a southern direction. Marched all night.
14th—Today crossed the Chickahominy and at night found ourselves near the James River where we encamped for the night.
15th—Today are lying where we camped last night, resting out. D[aniel] H. McPherson and me have just been down to the river bathing. Swam to the island, Then drew 4 days rations—coffee, pork, hard tack.
16th—Last night was routed out just dark, crossed the [James] River on pontoons, traveled all night and all day today—a forced march. Have reached the rebs’ works near Petersburg & formed in line of battle.
Friday, 17th—It will never be forgotten by the 9th A. C. Fought all day and charged on the Rebs four times and lost nearly all the remainder of the regiment. After the fight, we had only 37 men to stack arms.
18th—Still fighting and gradually gaining ground although it costs heavy and blood and life. Petersburg is plain to be seen from the parts we took from the Johnnies.
19th—Have been lying in the woods facing the enemy. No fighting in our corps today except the pickets.
20th—Last night charged across the railroad and took the heights beyond but again fell back into the woods where we now are.
21st—Today have had general inspection and every regiment in our Brigade has orders to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.
22nd—Moved some distance to the right last night but still on the same line of works.
23rd—We are still holding our position. I was on picket yesterday and was relieved last night. All quiet along the lines. Under marching orders.
24th—Last night were relieved by the 10th Corps and moved some distance to the left. We are next to the front line and are supported by our Colored Division.
25th—Started constructing a new line of works or rather pits. The enemy’s sharpshooters annoy us incessantly.
26th—This morning a man in our company by the name of John Cortright 1 was shot on picket line and died in two hours. I helped carry him off the picket line.
27th—Today our Colored Division has been busy filling bags with sand. They are to be used for breastworks.
1 John Cortright (1816-1864) was a 40 year-old farmer from Owego, Tioga county, New York, when he enlisted in December 1863 in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry.
Letter 7
Near Petersburg, Virginia August 10th 1864
Dear Sister,
I am seated in a bomb proof to write you a few lines as it is raining and it is very lonesome here on the picket line. We came here last Saturday night and expect to stay until next Saturday night. We are all in great fear here on the line for the rebs is undermining us as we did them. Our men are countermining as fast as they can but the rebs has several days the start of us and we are all afraid they will blow us up before we can stop them. But we have got stay and run our chances the same as in battle.
I presume you have read in the papers before this time about the undermining of the reb fort. Well our regiment was on the picket line at the time it was hoisted (the same line we are on now). Well the night before is was hoisted, as I said before, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon, we had orders to be ready to move at a moments notice and we supposed we was agoing to be relieved for we had been on the line 15 days. Well we got ready and sat around until dark and the expected relief did not come. Some of the boys fell asleep and some sat talking and wondering why the relief did not come. I was numbered with the sleepers.
Well, about 11 o’clock p.m., I was woke up and ordered to report to Headquarters. I did so and found a squad there and we was sent to Brigade Headquarters after spades and picks. Well then I began to smell the rat (I knew that the fort was all ready to blow up.) Well, we got them (the spades & picks), came back, and distributed them among the companies. Then I lay down and soon fell asleep with my things all on and when I awoke, it was 3 a.m. and there was a line of men formed in our rear in the same pits and we all thought sure they was the long wished for relief. But not so.
The explosion that created the Crater. From a contemporary sketch by Alfred Waud entitled “Before Petersburg at sunrise, July 30th 1864”
We had just got in line when to our astonishment we felt the ground rise up under our feet but we looked over the works and —– oh —— the awfullest sight that ever man beheld was there to be seen. Men’s heads, legs, arms, hands and whole bodies, artillery rails, mortars flying in the air. I took but one look and turned my head. But to see a sight which made another chill run through me, I saw a heavy line of battle moving forward. Then I knew for certain that we had to charge. On they came over our works. They went with a terrible yell (as soon as they got over our works in the line of battle, all the artillery along our line opened) and into the heap of ruins they went. And they had just got there when the rebs recovered from their panic and they opened all along their line.
Then the order [came] to our ears, “Forward 109th!” I looked in the direction the order came from and saw Col. [Isaac] Catlin 1 up on the breastworks swinging his sword, crying out, “Forward Boys!” and over we went. Well, I have been in several battles and I never was under such a heavy fire before. Well, a great many never reached the fort and oh! another such a sight. Men cut in all sorts of pieces and twisted in all shapes, some with their heads sticking out of the dirt, some with a hand and arm out, some with their legs out. It was awful. But we went to work and made good use of the “shubels & picks” in rescuing some of the rebs from being buried alive. Well, we got out several and took a number of others prisoners. Then we rallied on the next line and stood and fought about three hours, the rebs making several desperate charges to retake the line.
Then on came our colored troops with a rush and we thought sure we could walk right into Petersburg and we could [have] had the black buggers stood up to their work, but they was cowards and run and thus we lost our hold. As soon as they run, the General gave orders to retreat. Well, all went back or I say all. They all started back (but a great many never got there) but about 8 hundred, and six of them was our company, myself included. Well we stood there and fought and tried to hold the works but we could not see that very plain for we could see the rebs massing their forces and we knew we would have to all be taken prisoners or run the risk of getting shot in going back to our line. The rebs had a cross fire from both sides on us when we went across there.
Well, we six made up our minds to be taken and we sat down waiting for them to come when I happened to think about the niggers and about Fort Pillow [where] no quarter was shown them there nor their officers and I thought perhaps it would be the same here. So I spoke to the boys about it and they said we must run across the field to our works. Run for life, [indeed]. Well I was to take the lead. I raised up and saw the rebs had started. Then there was no time to be lost so over the lot of the fort I went and dropped down between two dead men and looked across the field towards our line. I could see it plain—about 40 rods [over 200 yards] distance. Two men started from just ahead of me and was shot before they reached the works. Then I was most discouraged but something told me I could reach them in safety. I raised up and looked around me again and could hear the enemy coming and saw some photographs, some of which I sent in my last letter to Ma lying on the ground near me. I picked them up and took one more look across the field and started and thank God, I reached our lines in safety and although I had several close calls, I was not hurt. When I was about halfway across the field, running as fast as I could, a ball came and cut my cup off of my haversack. That was the same as a blow of a whip on a horse. It made me go a little faster.
But I am alright and am sitting here in what we call a bum [bomb] proof to protect us from shells. It is a whole dug in the ground and heavy timbers over and dirt on them, some like a potato hole. Just think you see me sitting on a knapsack writing on a hard tack box, the boys lying around me in all shapes, heads and pints cross ways and every other way.
Well my paper is most gone and I am agoing to close and see if I can find ay place to curl down and sleep. I wouldn’t mind (if I could just as well as not getting in one of your beds to pass the remainder of the night. I bet I could sleep onyour parlor floor but I guess I will get along some way here in my hole. At least I will try it very shortly. Now this is the 2nd letter I have written to you and have none in return…
I like to forgot to say that the other 5 boys got out safe into our lines. If you want me to write again, you must send me some stamps as it is very hard to get them here. Write and tell me all the particulars concerning the fair maids &c. &c. of Ithaca. David & Frank also. I wrote to them some time ago but have received no answer. When you answer this, you must think up enough to full up two sheets at least. Now remember. Well here goes for a sleep so good night. May God protect you all. Goodbye.
1 Isaac Catlin was Promoted to full colonel on July 29, 1864, he led the 109th New York in the Battle of the Crater at Petersburg, Virginia, the next day. During the battle, he was seriously wounded but returned to the field and continued to lead his regiment until being struck a second time. The second wound necessitated the amputation of his right leg. For this action, he was given a brevet promotion to major general on March 13, 1865, and awarded the Medal of Honor several decades later, on January 13, 1899.
Col. Isaac Catlin lost a leg leading the 109th New York Infantry at the Battle of the Crater.
Letter 8
[Editor’s Note: The following letter was written by William A. Hance, the son of John L. Hance and Almira Bruster, who also served in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He enlisted at Danby on 12 August 1862 and mustered out with the company on 5 June 1865. His letter informs Hattie DeBell of the death of her brother Bill, killed in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864 and of his burial on the battlefield.]
Headquarters Ist Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th A. C. On the Weldon R. R., near Petersburg, Va., August 23, 1864
Mrs. DeBell,
Dear Madam, It is with a sad heart I seize upon this moment of spare time to address a few lines to you. I have news to tell of a nature most melancholy. William is dead. He fell in the bloody charge made by the Rebels on the 19th to recover the railroad which was taken from them the day before.
At the time he was struck, he was in advance of the company, supposing we had one line of battle between them and the Rebels. He soon discovered the mistake. Taking off his hat and swinging it around his head, he cried out, “Come on boys, they are Johnnys!” Those were the last words he ever uttered [before] he cruel messenger of death struck him down. Striking his right arm, [the ball] passed through, glanced and entered his side, passing through his lung, killing him instantly. By his death, I have lost a much loved friend and Co. A one of its best and bravest soldiers. We have been separated a great portion of the time since the opening of this bloody campaign but have occasionally met and spoken together of home and friends far away and anticipated the happiness in store for us when this cruel war should end. But alas, he is gone and all our bright hopes with him. And I am left to tell the gloomy intelligence.
William was a good soldier—always to be found at his post, discharging his duty nobly and manfully. His place in the company, as well as in the memory of those who knew him in this life, can never be filled until we have followed him to that same mysterious end. Allow me in behalf of Co. A to tender you our heartfelt sympathies in your bereavement. Having lost two brothers in the same manner, I can sympathize with you. But I suppose I cannot realize a mother’s feelings on such a subject. Asking you to excuse this hastily written sketch, I subscribe myself, respectfully yours, Wm. A. Hance, 1st Brigade Band, 3rd Division.
P. S. I have William’s testament and pocket book which I will forward to you the first opportunity. — W. A. Hance.
Letter 9
[Editor’s Note: The following letter was written by William A. Hance who also served in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He enlisted at Danby on 12 August 1862 and mustered out with the company on 5 June 1865. His letter informs Hattie DeBell of the death of her brother Bill, killed in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864 and of his burial on the battlefield.]
Headquarters, Ist Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th A. C. Near Petersburg, Va. September 13, 1864
Miss Hattie,
Having a few moments to spare, the first I have had since the receipt of yours containing inquiries concerning your poor brother, I concluded to devote them in answering them as well as I can. I was out to the regiment the 11th and made inquiries of all I saw that I thought would know anything of him. All I could learn was that another regiment were detailed to bury the dead, but that Will was buried by our pioneers & who they were, I could not find out. There are but few of the boys left and nearly all of my acquaintances are either dead or wounded or sick. I shall try and find where his grave is. I do not know whether the Rebels or our men hold the ground for since the battle, things have changed. Our lines have been formed on the most advantageous ground and our division has moved several times since. We are now about three miles from where he fell.
But rest assured Miss Hattie, I will make every effort to find his resting place and will mark it so in case you should ever want to find the spot, there will be something to show you the spot where your brave soldier brother sleeps.
You ask how many battles Will was engaged in. There were eight pitched battles, 1 Wilderness, 2 Spotsylvania, 3 Bethesda Church, 4 near Hanover Church, 5 Cold Harbor, 6 near Petersburg, June 18th, 7 July 30th near Petersburg [The Crater], 8 Weldon R. R. Aug. 19th, besides numerous skirmishes on the picket line. After all he had passed through unharmed, it seemed doubly hard to believe that he could be taken down by a traitor’s bullet. You inquired about D[aniel] H. MePherson. The last I saw of him was the 17th of July. Your brother was helping him to the hospital. He was taken with typhoid fever [and] he died a short time after. I will inform you of whatever I learn concerning Will. Asking you to excuse this, I will close by presenting my best respects to your mother. I remain your friend, — W[illiam] A. Hance
George Messer, ca. 1860. Enlistment records say he had dark hair and blue eyes.
George Messer of the 107th Illinois Infantry was “a good man and a man that I thought a heap of. He was liked in his company and regiment but he is now gone where there is no trouble, no war, nor no fighting. Tell his wife that he is buried nice and was well cared for whilst sick.” So wrote a fellow soldier following the discovery of George’s death from chronic diarrhea late in December 1863 at the Lamar House Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee.
There is nothing remarkable about George Messer to distinguish him from the thousands of men who answered their country’s call for volunteers to put down the rebellion. He was a simple carpenter from rural Illinois who sought to acquire his share of the American dream — a home to call his own and a loving family to love and support. But his sense of patriotic duty caused him to put those dreams on hold until the rebellion was ended. Unfortunately for George — and the family he left in Illinois — that day did not come before he succumbed to the disease that plagued him throughout most of his term of service. Though he never fired a gun at the enemy, he did not desert nor shirk his duty when he was capable of fulfilling it like several others in his regiment. Though he saw others less qualified than himself rise to positions of leadership in the regiment, he maintained his spirit and did his best to comfort and give hope to those he left behind in Illinois.
George was a devoted husband who wrote faithfully and regularly to his wife during his absence — at least twice a week and sometimes more. His voluminous correspondence provides us with a record of the 107th Illinois Infantry that is rare and reveals the internal machinations and jealousies of the regiment that unit histories do not characteristically reveal. In short, it is a good read.
George Messer (1833-1863) was the son of William H. Messer (1804-1892) and Hannah McClure (1796-1861) of Richland County, Ohio. He had an older sister named Rebecca Messer (1831-1904) who was married to David Bell (1829-1912) in January 1853. Sometime in the late 1850’s, George Messer came to Illinois with his parents and his older sister’s family to settle in Creek Township in Dewitt county. It was here that he met and married Charlotte (“Lottie”) Kelley (1839-1907), the daughter of Alexander Kelley (1813-1882) and Lucinda Anderson (1816-1869). They were married on 27 March 1860 at her father’s resident by John J. McGraw, Justice of the Peace.
George enlisted in Co. F, 107th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry. The letters span the time from his muster into service in September of 1862 until his death at the end of December, 1863. Several years ago I had the privilege of transcribing and publishing 82 letters of the letters that George wrote to his wife Lottie (Charlotte) during his time in the service along with his nephew, William Wesley McNulty. Recently I was sent scans of two of George’s letters from the Early Illinois Collection of Brad Emalfarb with the express consent for publishing them on Spared & Shared. Both letters were datelined from Glasgow, Kentucky, in April 1863 and neither were in the collection of George’s letters I had previously published. The two letters are significant because they both provide descriptions of the construction of Fort Williams, an earthwork fort constructed on a hill just outside of Glasgow. We learn that much of the early earth moving necessary in the construction of the fort was done by impressed enslaved laborers and only when an attack was anticipated in late April 1863 were the entire 107th Illinois enlisted men assigned duty to finish the works by felling trees and laying the abatis that surrounded the fort.
George Messer’s original collection of Civil War letters.
Letter 1
107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky Thursday, April 2nd 1863
My dear wife,
I seat myself this morning to answer yours of the 28th and 29th which I received yesterday evening and I was glad to hear that you was all well and hearty. I still keep hearty and have a stomach strong enough to eat almost anything.
I am out on picket again today and I am sitting on a big Beach log writing. I intended to write to you today and did not expect to have to go on duty again today but our details are very heavy and has come my turn sooner than I expected and I concluded that I would not be fooled out of writing to you like I was last Sunday so I brought portfolio and writing materials along with me and shall put in all my spare time today in writing.
We commenced yesterday morning to dig rifle pits with 40 Negroes that we pressed in around the country and there is 80 Negroes at work today and there will still be more tomorrow. They are going to press in three hundred and fifty and if they work like they did yesterday, we will soon have the fortifications completed and I for one am not sorry that the Negroes are to do the work for I don’t like to work as well as I used to. Still I am heartier and feel stouter than I was for a long time.
You spoke about wanting to know about my chance of promotion. There is but little chance just now. There may be when Capt. Wismer is exchanged and comes back or is mustered out or resigns. I don’t know what he will do or what will be done with him. David Willis has not got any commission yet and I don’t know whether he will get one or not. Either [David] Willis or [William D.] Catterlin will be the 2nd Lieutenant. I think there is another man that is trying to get the place and I would not be much surprised if he gets it. He is very intimate with the Colonel and has it is generally believed a man at home working for him with the Governor. It is nobody else but P[arker] S. Adams. I don’t want you to say anything about what I have said. All the chance that I have is if Catterlin is promoted for me to get up a petition and I can get all the company to sign it except two or three for Orderly Sergeant. I may not get it them but I shall make the effort at least and I think there be nothing dishonorable about it in that way. Those that I speak about that would not sign my petition are ones that want to be promoted themselves. They have nothing against me and they appear to be my personal friends but appearances are very often deceitful.
I get along very well where I am and I chant make any fuss about it if I don’t get any higher. All that I would desire a higher office for would be for the pecuniary assistance that it might afford and at the same time be capable of doing my duty. I don’t want to get promoted to any place that I could not fulfill for that would be worse than having no office at all.
P[arker] S. Adams is sick and has been for three days. He has something like the flux. He was some better this morning. John Graham is not very well. He has a bad cold and sore throat. He is boarding in our mess now. He wanted to get our nigger to cook for him. He could not do that so he turned his nigger off and has come to board with us. We have the best cook there is in camp and he gets up things in pretty good style the most of the time.
I did not send that other novel by A. C. Graham. He was in a hurry to start so I forgot it until after he was gone. I will come home pretty [soon] and bring it myself and I suppose that will do as well and perhaps better than to send it by anyone. I will close for a few minutes.
John Hunt Morgan. Despite claims such as George recorded, Morgan was never wounded until the day he was shot and killed in September 1864.
I am seated again to write some more. We have just heard that our forces have been giving John [Hunt] Morgan thunder. They have shot three of his fingers off and shot him through the left shoulder. I am sorry that they did not hit him about six inches lower down. At any rate, he won’t be able to trouble us very much for a litle while. I understand that the rebels think it is getting rather got for their safety in Kentucky and are getting out as fast as they can and such a thing might be that we will have to follow them, which we can do if it is necessary but as the Dutchman said, I would rather not if it could be helped for I don’t like them and have no desire to have any friendly intercourse with them such as shooting muskets, pistols, and cannon, although if it is my lot to do so, I will try and give them the best turn in the shop.
It is now about noon and I must stop for a little while and eat some dinner for I am hungry every time at meal time and if you could see me eat, you would think I was hungry or had an awful appetite for meat.
I must try and fill this sheet yet but I don’t know what to write about for I wrote you a tolerable long letter and started it to you by Ben Cross last Tuesday morning. I am not certain whether I will get to come home when those return that have went or not. There are several that are talking about going and they have sent for money to take them home. If they have, I may not get to come. I have sunk away in the bottom of my pocket enough to pay my way home at least and if we should leave this place, it may be that there won’t be any chance for anyone to go very soon again.
Some of our boys went down to town the other evening and Mr. Phares, [our wagon master] as they all call him, was along. They were invited into the parlor to hear some music. They played on the violin awhile and some of our boys asked Mr. [Martin] Phares if he could not play a tune or two. He said he did not know [but] he would try. They handed him the fiddle and asked him to play the Arkansas Traveler and some of our boys told him to play it with the variation. He commenced to play and the Kentuckians all began to look cross-eyed at him. He played that and commenced to play some of his family music. When they heard him through, they all acknowledged that they never had heard such music before. So Mart[in] became quite a noted character among them. They thought that our boys were rather green and they did look sort of shabby with their coarse blue clothes on but they were badly cheated when they thought they were about to sell the soldiers and make fun of them. Mart can act the fool as well as anyone and when he takes the notion, there is not many that can get ahead of him. 1
Wesley [McNulty] is well and hearty. He is on the color guard. He was put there for his nice appearance and keeping his gun in good order. West is like he always was, very particular and brushing up all the time—only when he is not writing letters. He got a letter last night from Miss Williams in Sangamon county with her likeness in it. It is a splendid looking picture too. I think that Tom Edwards had better be careful how he goes into danger for Wesley was telling me that he had undertaken to ride his horse that David Bell had bought for West and the horse had throwed him off and broke two of his fingers. I am sorry that Tomis so unlucky. I would rather you would not sell Birt and if your Father want to work her, let him do so. If you get a chance to sell the cows, do so for as much as you can for as you say, they are getting old and are going down hill every year. And if you can keep Birt’s colt, keep it too for with Birt, it may help to make a team if it ever amounts to anything and it may be old enough to work by the time I can get home to stay. But I hope this war will be over and me at home soner than that and I think I will for the war can’t certainly last for two years and a half yet, although it may.
You must not think that you offend me by writing anything that you want to. I know that you have troubles to contend with as well as anyone else and why should I be offended at you for writing to me who you have a right to counsel as well as me to counsel you for each other’s welfare. My darling, you have my love and whole heart in your keeping and there it shall ever remain.
I shall not write much more today and finish in the morning after I go in off picket for it has got so windy that I can’t hardly write and in the morning I may think of something more to write about for I have about run out for today. So for this evening, my darling, I will close hoping you are all well for tonight. My darling, goodbye — George
Friday morning, April 3rd Dear wife, I have just returned from picket and I shall now try and finish my letter. I received a letter from T. Kelley last night dated the 24th of March. He was well and hearty and he tells me that the Copperheads in Illinois had threatened to tar and feather him if he did not stop recruiting. Now if I know Tom as well as I think I do, they would have had a good time of it if they had undertaken it. He is down on the traitors at home with a vengeance.
I must now close for this time for I want to answer Tom’s letter today and I want to do some washing too for tomorrow I will have to drill and today I get to rest. Write to me soon again and send me yours & Eddie’s likenesses if you can get them taken. I must close and I hope you are all well and hearty. Goodbye. I ever remain your faithful husband, — Geo. Messer
To Lottie Messer
1 Mart Phares was a soldier in the Union army during the war, having enlisted at Clinton, and rendered good service. He has been receiving a pension for disability sustained during the war. He went to Lombard University but did not graduate. He had a strong predilection for music, and early began playing for balls. He made music his profession. He played with so much spirit and with such feeling that his execution proved pleasing and acceptable. He was a good caller, having in his palmy days a good, strong voice and was in great demand. For a generation or more he has been associated with an orchestra, either his own or someone else’s. He was looked up to with affection by the other players here. No man has rendered more or better service to the social world here than has Mart. He has directed some of the most brilliant parties ever held in Galesburg. He has played not only for the old but for the children. The violin was his favorite instrument, and who can tell how much pleasure it has given to others under his willing hand. Mart is dead. His favorite is stilled, no more forever to be caressed by his touch. No more will he be seen directing the movements of the dance his face beaming with pleasure. He was known to more men, women and children then any other man here. All called him Mart. He ministered to the pleasures of others, caring little for his own. He was a simple soul. He bore no ill wills. He had a kind and affectionate word for other musicians. No one enjoyed more than he did the concourse of sweet music. He could be seen at every concert of any note, drinking it all down. He was looked up to as a sort of big brother by the younger. He may not have been distinguished; he may not have performed any great deed that will cause his name to go ringing down the corridors of time; but he made life sweet, enjoyable and tolerable to others. Many great men fail to do that. [Source: Obituary, Clinton Public]
Letter 2
107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky Sunday, April 12th 1863
My dear wife,
I seat myself this day at [ ] o’clock to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hearty and I hope these few lines may find you all well. Everything is bustle and excitement here now. We are expecting an attack here every day and the whole regiment has turned out to finish up our fort and cut down timber. In two days more we will have our earthworks complete and then we are making an abatis around the outside of the ditch and for fear you won’t know what it is, I will tell you. It is made out of saplings trimmed with the limbs about three feet long and sharped at the points. The trees are placed with the butt towards the ditch and the shgarp points out with dirt throwed in the butt of them to kep them stationery. This is to prevent the Rebels from taking the place by storm. When they come up, they will run against the sharp points of the abatis and give us time to shoot them before they can get through. It is the general opinion of the officer commanding here that we will have to fight them in less than a week and perhaps inside of the next twenty-four hours.
There was a letter intercepted by one of our men from one of the Rebels to his wife in which he said that they would visit Glasgow the 15th of this month for they might as well come here and get shot as stay where they was and starve to death for they had nothing to eat and could get nothing unless they could come into Kentucky to get it. If they come, depend upon it, they will fight with desperation and they will be received with firmness on our part. I expect to get a letter from you this evening and I would wait until tomorrow to send this but the mail may be cut off from us by that time and I want you to know how we are situated here. Still I don’t want to discourage you but you have a right to know the truth, let it be good or bad. I am not alarmed in the least and I don’t want you to be for it may all blow over in a few days and not amount to very much at all.
You must excuse this short letter and poor writing for I have but one hour to write in and then I will have to go to work so I have to write like a horse on a gallop. We commenced to work with the whole regiment yesterday morning and have made considerable show. I have nothing more of importance to write this time and in fact, have not time to write much for my hour is nearly up. I will write to you again in a day or two if there still remains a chance to send letters and if we should have a fight, I will give you the earliest intelligence of the result that I possibly can.
I must now close for today. I send a kiss to you and Eddy. My respects to all. Goodbye. Your ever loving husband, — Geo. Messer
The following letter was written by John Myers of Co. G, 195th Pennsylvania Infantry. John enlisted as a private on 18 February 1865 and deserted on 21 November 1865. He mentions Franklin K. Myers (b. 1844) of the same company who also enlisted on the same date and deserted three days before John. I’m not confident but I believe John was from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where many of the men were recruited.
John’ letter was written on stationery with a rate colorized lithographic illustration of the “Camp of the 195th Reg. Pennsylvania Volunteers at Berryville, Va.” Berryville is a few miles east of Winchester in Clarke county, Virginia.
See also the 1865-66 Letters of George W. Fraser who also served in the same company as John Myers. They were published on Spared & Shared in 2018.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Washington August 18th 1865
My dear wife,
Here I will send you this letter where you can see how we had our camp at Berryville and I will state you how to lay it and you will find my tent. It is the second tent in from the west end in the second street marked with ink and you will find on top of the picture which is the east side and if you lay it down that the end which I have written on is eastward, then it is right.
Further, I want you to come as soon as you possibly can. Start right away when this comes to hand and bring all the money along that [I] have sent you for may you must stay a while with me because if you don’t come soon, then I will desert. And now do so and Franklin Myers wrote home to his wife to come along with you and tell her if she will go along with you then she shall for it is more company to you and don’t forget and come as soon as you possibly can for I wouldn’t like if you would come and we would have left so that you wouldn’t met me here.
Just inquire for G. Street Wharf. I think William Mul can find the place so I must close. I am in a great hurry so that letter will go off yet.
The following letter, authored in late April 1865 by a Union soldier encamped near Washington, reflects his anticipation of soon mustering out of the army. He identified himself as “Isack Smith” and directed the correspondence to his wife, Catherine, while also referring to his unnamed “little boy.” Additionally, he acknowledged having received communication from “Peter Larkin’s wife,” though it remains unclear whether the Larkins resided in proximity to the Smiths. Regrettably, due to the prevalence of these common names and a lack of further identifying details, I was unable to ascertain Isaac’s identity. Nevertheless, I have transcribed the letter, as it articulates compelling sentiments regarding the reactions to the news of President Lincoln’s assassination.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp near Washington City April 30th 1865
Dear Wife,
I have a few leisure moments so I thought I would pen a few lines to you. In regards to the good news—Oh how glorious that, and I expect to see you all before long. They all think that we will be discharged very soon. I hope we will. That is my wish. I don’t think that I could make a better one.
I answered your last letter. Tell the little boy that his father will soon be home. I received a letter from Peter Larkin’s wife the other day. They were all well. Her proposal was to me that I was glad that the President was dead but that is not so. I am sorry for him. It is bad but it can’t be helped now for it is too late. We lost a Father when we lost Abraham Lincoln.
We are about 5 miles from the City of Washington. I haven’t one thing more to write. All the news I can give you is this—you can look for me home before long. Give a kiss for me to the little boy. Here is one for yourself. This is from your affectionate husband, — Isack Smith
To Mrs. Catharine Smith
Here is a Soldier’s Dream [The Soldier’s Dream & The Soldier’s Tear lyrics]
The following letter is dated but unsigned. We only know that the author served in the extensive Army of the James. Based on the evidence present, it is reasonable to deduce that he was likely an officer, as he exhibits a level of education indicative of such a rank. The quality of the pen and writing paper utilized, combined with the evident time taken to compose the letter, further supports this assumption. Moreover, the neatness of the writing suggests that the author possessed a writing desk or table suitable for such tasks and these were generally only carried by officers.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Army of the James City Point February 1865
Mother, no word in our language has so deep hold on the heart strings of men as the simple term, Mother, and although we often conduct ourselves in such a manner that we ought not to be allowed to have any mother, yet it is a cruel wrench that can tear her image from our souls, although we may be sin-steeped until our moral nature has lost all traces of the image of Him in whom we are created, yet on memory’s map will be left some of the tracings of a mother’s influence.
I would be most happy this Sabbath morning if permitted to spend it in the society of her who watched over my infancy and has been my best adviser all through life’s journey. Many has been the rock that I have dashed against driving along with passion at the helm, which if I had been content to let mother’s hand guide the bark, I would have escaped. Now, when it is too late, we think of those things. How vast is the number of human wrecks that lie scattered along life’s shore that have been lost for the simple reason that they would not let her, who knew their natures better than they did themselves, guide them, lay miserable failures along the road which, if mother had been minded, might have reached the haven, richly laden with honor and the respect of their fellows with the pleasant consciousness of duty fulfilled, usefulness and self respect.
But moralizing cannot heal the past although I have too often rejected your counsel and am morally wrecked in consequence. Yet you will believe me when saying that there is nothing I can think of would give greater pleasure than to be at your side today and by any means save you from one pang of pain and my hearts desire, prayer, is that I may once more be permitted to see your face in peace and the blessings of peace, felt and appreciated all over our afflicted country.
A transient gleam of hope has for the few days past illuminated our war clouded skies. Men from Washington have visited Richmond. Vice President Stephens of the Bogus Confederacy left City Point for Fortress Monroe on Wednesday to meet Father Abraham at that place to talk the matter over, to see if there is not some way for bringing Peace once more to our land. Mother, the fact of the case is that Peace on any fair terms will be received by the soldiers of either side with transports of joy and thanksgiving. The flag of truce arrived in front of our lines in front of the City of Petersburg where there has not been scarcely a moment for the past six months when shot, shell, and Minié ball has not been flying at the former on either side. Yet the flag of truce was hailed with perfect transport of joy by the soldiers of both armies. The thought that Peace once more would come, then “Home Sweet Home” a happy reunion with the loved ones there so galvanized the boys with delight that shouts of joy rang along the lines, friend and foe joining in the chorus in a yell that would have drowned the thunders of fort.
Well, if she had been playing at the time, it proves that there is one chord that vibrates alike in the Northern and Southern heart and that is the love of home.
I could not find an image of Fletcher in uniform but here is one of Sgt. James Henry Hobbs of Co. H, 8th Maine Infantry. (Andrew Garton Collection)
The following letter was written by Sgt. Richard “Fletcher” Taft (1840-1862) while serving in Co. G, 8th Maine Infantry. Fletcher enlisted at Gouldsboro, Hancock county, Maine, on 7 September 1861 and penned this letter shortly after boarding the steamboat Daniel Webster that would take the regiment from Annapolis to “somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough.” Though he did not yet know it, the regiment was to take part in the Port Royal Expedition. Regrettably, it would be his last ocean transport. He died of typhoid fever on Daufuskie Island on 30 March 1862. He lies buried in a soldier’s grave at the Beaufort National Cemetery, marker 1605.
Fletcher wrote this letter to his parents, Ephraim Wales Taft (1795-1873) and Maria B. Cobb (1813-1885).
For Spared & Shared followers interested in reading more great letters by members of the 8th Maine Infantry, check out those written by Augustus Alonzo Hoit who served as an officer in the same company as Fletcher and was also from Gouldsboro. See: The Smoke of my Rifle transcribed and published by Spared & Shared in 2015.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Annapolis [Maryland] October 19th 1861
Dear Mother,
I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that we are on board a steamboat and will probably sail south in a day or two. We had orders yesterday noon to pack our knapsacks and be ready to march at a minute’s warning. We marched on down to the Navy Yard and went on board a boat which carried us on board this ship and suppose we shall be landed somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough. I can’t write much now for I am Sergeant of the Guard today and I am on deck and it almost rains so must be short but thought I would write a word or two to let you know where I was for you may not get another letter from me for some time but will write again the first chance.
I got a letter from Maria last night. Was glad to hear you were all well. Maria wrote that some of our company complain of not getting enough to eat. I don’t think I have lost much flesh and as long as I can hold my own, will not say a word. I ain’t afraid of starving. I received a letter from Nat Tyler the other day [but] have not had time to answer it yet. George is well and gets along well. You wrote he said he was coming home but guess he will hardly get there this winter.
I must now close this as I have not time to write more. Give love to all and keep a large share for yourself. From your son, — Fletcher
When you write, direct to Washington and I shall get them from there if anywhere.
Spared & Shared 23 