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.
I could not find an image of Thomas but here is one of Pvt. Francis Marion Long of Co. G, 50th North Carolina, who also died of disease during the war. (Greg Mast Collection)
The following letter was written by Thomas Ruffin Blalock (1836-1863), of Person county, North Carolina. He wrote the letter to his “dear companion” of six years, Susan (Whitefield) Blalock, the mother of his three children, Albert, George and James.
The letter was datelined from Camp Mangum near Raleigh, North Carolina, where the 50th North Carolina was being drilled and equipped for military service. Thomas had accepted a bounty to enlist as a private in Co. A of that regiment in early March 1862. The regiment served in Virginia from June to December 1862, primarily around Drewry’s Bluff. They returned to North Carolina in January 1863 and remained there until late in 1864, serving in the eastern part of the state. Thomas, however, became seriously ill in May 1863 from pneumonia and he died on the 26th of May.
Transcription
Camp Mangum, 1 North Carolina April 19th 1862
Dear Companion,
It is with great pleasure that I seat myself to drop you a few lines to let you know that I am well as to health but I am pestered in mind very much for I have wrote to you but have not received a single line from you and I am pestered about it. But I hope that I will hear from you in a few days. I would be glad to see you and I hope I will get to come home in a few days for we will get our bounty today or on Monday and then I will try to come home and see you.
I want to know whether William has to leave or not. If he does, tell him to come to this company and if you can get anybody to do the work till I get there, you can employ them till I get there and then I can make better arrangements for something to eat is going to be an object of importance next year.
I will try to tell you something about our fare. We are faring very well at this time. We have plenty of beef, pork, rice, sugar, and wheat, and corn meal and other [ ]. Our water is very good, Handy enough. We are still at this place and I don’t know when we will leave here. I believe the boys is tolerable well satisfied at this place. The boys are all well except two or three and they are not anyway dangerous at present.
Give my love and respects to all of our folks and friends and keep a large portion for yourself. You must write as often as you can and direct your letters to Camp Mangum in care of Capt. [John Campbell] Van Hook. 2
These lines leave me well and I do earnestly hope they may find you enjoying the same great blessing. No more at present—only I remain your dear husband until death, — Thomas Blalock
To his wife, Susan Blalock
1 Camp Mangum was located just outside of Raleight, North Carolina. Thousands of North Carolinians passed through this camp between 1861 and 1863 where they were drilled and equipped for military service. [See Camp, Combat, and Campaign: North Carolina’s Confederate Experience, by Peter R. Thomas, Jr.]
2 John Campbell Van Hook was the captain of Co. A, 50th North Carolina Infantry. He was born in North Carolina on July 10, 1831, where he farmed prior to enlisting at age 31. He served as the captain in command of a militia company in the Van Hook district of Person County. The company met for drill at Paynes Tavern before the War Between the States began. Van Hook had previously served as first lieutenant in the 44th Regiment, North Carolina Militia. The 50th North Carolina Regiment was organized on April 15, 1862, at Camp Mangum, near Raleigh, and Captain Van Hook was put in charge of Company A. He brought with him the largest volunteer company from Person County. Van Hook was promoted to major on December 1, 1862, and to lieutenant colonel on November 10, 1863.
The following letter was written by Philip Josiah Overcash of Rowan county, North Carolina, who at age 30 enlisted as a private in Co. B, 57th North Carolina on 4 July 1862. Co. B, 57th North Carolina Infantry. In May of 1863 he was reported hospitalized in Richmond and then transferred to the hospital in Lynchburg, Virginia. While enroute to Lynchburg, he seems to have been taken a prisoner of war on 24 May 1863 by Union troops raiding the rear of Lee’s army. He was immediately paroled and sent to Farmville suffering from acute nephritis.
Finally, in August 1863, he was furloughed for 60 days and in April 1864 he was absent from the regiment. My assumption is that he never returned to the regiment as he was reported sick at home in Rowan county in September 1864.
Philip’s letter is directed primarily to his wife Margaret I. (Blover) Overcash, but he also adds a few lines to his son Eli Overcash (1857-1924) who was six years old at the time.
Transcription
Addressed to Mrs. Margaret Overcash, Laurel Branch P. O., Rowan County, North Carolina
Farmville, Virginia July 24th 1863
Dear and affectionate wife and loving children, and affectionate Mother and sisters,
I state to you that I received your kind and welcome letter yesterday, 23d, dated July the 17th (No 21) and I was truly glad to hear from you once more and to hear that you were all tolerable well—only Seth, you said, still has the bowel complaint yet, but he didn’t seem to mind it. And I hope it is only a little brush and that he will get better of it again.
I now state to you that would have answered your letter yesterday but I was too sick to sit up to write. My breast and back hurt me too bad and my bowels were running off very bad and pained me very much. But I feel a great deal better this morning but am barely able to sit up long enough to answer your letter. And I have no appetite to eat much. And I hope if I don’t take a backset, that I may soon get better again.
I am glad to hear that you have your wheat all hauled up and in the barn and have your oats all cut and that you think you will make enough to do you if you didn’t have to give the 10th of all you made, which I can’t think you will have to do now.
You said that L. F. R. and F. L. & T. O. & A. M, and that H. W. O. & P. L. O. & J. A. R. were still at home yet and that H. W. O. was at our house today and that he was very poorly yet. And you wished if I only was at home too. So do I, for most all my neighbors boys are at home today with you. But I still hope that the day is not far distant when I may get to come home to see you all once more. And I am glad to hear that the corn looks so nice and that Elon was going to lay it by this week which I know will be a hard task for her but hope she may be blessed with good health to get the plowing done.
Now you want me to tell you which field you should sow in wheat. Well, I think you ought to sow the field you have in corn and turn the stubble in the field next to Uncle Henry and sow it and try and sow the old field in oats again this fall. And I am glad to hear that the tax was no more than it was this year.
Now my dear Eli, I was glad to hear from you once more and to hear how fast you are learning and that you got that pretty paper and had 2 in your book and [ ] to keep it there till I come home to see you and Seth which you hope would be before long and I hope so too. And I want you to be a good boy. So farewell, Eli, till I hear from you again. I must now bring my letter to a close by asking you to write soon and give me all the news you can.
So farewell till I hear from you again. Written by P. J. O. to his affectionate wife, M. I. O. and loving children, and affectionate mother and sisters. May God bless us all is my prayer.
The following letter was written by Charles Lafayette Osborne (1834-1920) of Transylvania county, North Carolina. He enlisted at the age of 27 on 8 September 1861 as a private in Co. E, 25th North Carolina Infantry. He was promoted as ordnance sergeant in May 1862 and appointed 2nd Lieutenant on 23 July 1862 and 1st Lieutenant one week later. The 25th North Carolina served in Gen. Ransom’s Brigade of Gen. Longstreet’s Corps. The regiment fought at Antietam and near the famous stone wall on Maryes Heights at Fredericksburg. Charles was present and accounted for until 10 February 1865 when he was transferred to the 65th North Carolina (6th N. C. Cavalry) because of his inability to “stand infantry service in the summer season.”
Charles was the son of Jeremiah Osborne (1802-1890) and Mary Rebecca Fletcher (1807-1887). He was married to Mollie Killian (1841-1924) in August 1863.
Charles wrote the letter to his sister-in-law, Mariah (Merrill) Osborne (1831-1914)—the widow of Joseph McDowell Osborn (1832-1859).
[Note: I have spelled Charles’ surname “Osborne” because that’s the way it appears on his headstone but it might also be found in records as “Osborn.”]
Transcription
Addressed to Mrs. Mariah Osborn, Little River, Transylvania county, North Carolina, by hand
Pamlico Station, Lenoir county, N. C. Camp Ransom April 6th 1862
Sister Mariah,
Having some leisure hours, I take the pleasure of penning you a few lines hoping they will safely each you and find you enjoying good health, and getting on prosperously in this time of pressure. I have hither to been neglectful in writing to you together with other friends, but it has not been by any design or ill will on my part, but nearly neglect.
If I know my heart, I feel interested in your prosperity, love you as a sister, because you was married to one of my best brothers and has ever treated me with respect. I hope if there is any disrespectable feelings existed between you and any of us that they may be quickly obliterated and erased from memory’s page, and crushed into oblivion to appear no more. This is no time nor place to harbor malice, nor any others, but on the other hand, we should unite our efforts and double our diligence in trying to advance our great redeemer’s kingdom and to prepare for eternity.
To give you a detail of our travels and the many trials connected with a soldier’s life would consume more time than I have to apply in writing, and would also task your patience to read it. But let it suffice to say that a soldier’s life when understood is laborious, confining, and not at all to be desired, but for the sake of defending an invaded country against a hoard of notorious vandals.
Our regiment has not yet had the chance of testing courage on the battlefield and I see no greater probability now for it than that which has formerly existed. We have frequently been ordered to different parts of the state (and even out of their state) where a fight was pending, but always get there too late to see any bloodshed, but we cannot tell what another day may bring forth, under such critical times.
Our regiment has recently been united with some others in forming a brigade under the command of General Ransom. We find a great many soldiers here, some infantry, some cavalry, and some artillery, and with their drums, bugles, and brass bands together with the constant chattering of mischievous soldiers, would present quite a terrifying aspect—especially to those who have never witnessed such a scene.
We are now stationed close to the Neuse River about thirty miles from Newbern, though we have troops along the road to Goldsboro. Our pickets go daily near Newbern and occasionally pick up a Yankee or a disloyal citizen. This is a fine country and susceptible of producing almost any sort of grain. The bottoms are extensive and rich and possessed by good farms. Water is tolerably good and the weather is moderate.
Provisions are scarce and high. Salt is hardly to be purchased at any price. It is quite evident that poor people will soon begin to suffer.
Most of our regiment have enlisted for the war and are getting several recruits. The fight at Newbern is not yet definitively reported. It is rumored that our side lost near few hundred and the Yankees about fifteen hundred but I suppose without accuracy.
How does Person enjoy himself since his second choice of married life? I suppose well. I must close. Let us here how you are doing. Letters directed to Goldsboro will come to us. Give respects to all my friends. Fraternally, — C. L. Osborn
This letter was written in 1885 by William Henry Harrison Lancaster (1840-1891) who first entered the Civil War in June 1861 as a member of Co. A, 17th Indiana Infantry. The regiment first saw combat at Greenbrier, Virginia in October of that year, then transferred to Don Carlos Buell’s Army of the Ohio where they took part in the western theatre. Co. A, however, was retained in the Cheat Mountain District of West Virginia and used as artillerists in Wilder’s Battery, Co. G.
From William’s letter we learn that at some unspecified point in time he transferred out of Wilder’s Battery into the military’s telegraph service where he worked as a telegraph operator and repairer. While posted at the New Creek Station in November 1864, he and others connected with the telegraph office were robbed, taken prisoner by Confederates under Rosser’s command, and taken to Castle Thunder where he endured some 15 weeks of captivity and nearly starved to death. His letter chronicles that experience.
William wrote the letter to Miss Sophia E. Eastman, an 1864 graduate of Wheaton Female Seminary (Norton, Mass.), in response to a request for information pertaining to his captivity at Caste Thunder. Sophia wrote a number of children’s and religious books in the latter half of the 19th century but I have not been able to determine why she was collecting stories of this nature. The letter was sent to 8 Mason street in Cambridge which was a boarding house.
As he states in his letter, William lived out his days in Earlham, Madison county, Iowa, working for the railroad. Sadly, William was killed in a horrific railroad accident near Earlham on 2 June 1891 at the age of 51 (see clippings below).
A photograph of Caste Thunder taken after the fall of Richmond. The former tobacco warehouse was converted into a prison during the war. (LOC)
Transcription
Earlham, Iowa September 15, 1885
Miss Sophia E. Eastman 8 Mason Street, Cambridge, Mass.
Yours received. Will be as brief as possible in writing you.
I was captured with a part of Col. Latham’s command at New Creek Station, W. Va. on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad by the command under Rebel General Rosser November 28th 1864. I was the U. S. Miltary Operator at that point. Although almost 21 years have passed since then, I can see it almost as plain as if it were but recent. We were captured by Rosser’s advance guards (dressed in Union soldier’s clothing) composed mostly of what they called themselves the Baltimore Plugs and they did not ask us to surrender but at the point of their revolvers surrender our money, watches, jewelry, and all other valuables—and so passed from man to man before their regulars come up and the latter put us in form[ation] for taking our names and occupation & marching on towards Richmond.
The first day out we had traded [probably forcefully] all our good clothing, consisting of coats, pants, vests, hats, and boots for their cast off clothing and we did not get a very good fit either in exchange. We laid out the first night after a very severe forced march with but very little to eat or wear. The second day I was barefooted and held on to the stirrups of two cavalrymen to keep up and was allowed to ride behind one of them for a few hours. At Harrisonville, a Methodist Minister gave me an old pair of shoes to cover my feet and a straw hat for my head. So we were marched into Staunton where we lay and tried to sleep on the cold damp ground, but very little sleep for the most of us. Here we took the cars for Richmond and put into Castle Thunder—about two squares from the old Libby Prison, in which castle I spent the winter.
Through the kindness of a friend, I shared his blanket, and for 7 or 8 days I lay on my back with not enough strength to get up. Nor did we get enough to eat to recover much strength either. It seemed to be their only aim to keep us a shadow as we were—that when we were exchanged they would get an able bodied man for our poor weak emaciated frames, which they [finally] did do about the middle of March 1865 when we were taken to Libby Prison and fed up well for two days waiting for the water to fall so we could go down the river in boats to our lines.
By the way, this same grub was taken from the boxes that had been shipped there for our starving soldiers and never given to them, and quite a number ate so much on the first day or two, they were taken sick and died on the eve of exchange praying for a sight at God’s country again. And Oh! what suffering. None but those who had been prisoners can ever tell—and they cannot either. It is indescribable. A hungry person I never want to or expect to see again. Still we are asked to forget and forgive. How can it be done? Never while life lasts. Impossible. Maybe you will find someone who remembers and who can picture it all out to you a living likeness of all the horrors of a prison pen in rebeldom during the years of 1861 to 1865 inclusive. I cannot.
I served as operator and line repairer in the outposts in West Virginia at Cheat Mountain, … Bull town, and Charleston. We did not have all the delicacies of the season at any place but fared about the same as our soldiers and we did not complain at that. I lost everything I had, unfitted for any service that would command good wages. I am making a living for myself, wife, and boy, and that is about all as agent or operator on the CRJ&PRR, and have been for the last 15 years. I never cared much about a pension but there are but a few of us who would like in some honorable way to get back what we had made, saved, and lost by capture. I left out about 1000 dollars worse than nothing. No clothes. No work. No money and in bad health and yet every Fall, Winter, Spring I suffer a great deal with neuralgia or rheumatism contracted during captivity by hunger and exposure.
I believe you would get a good deal of information as regards the military operations by looking over Plumb’s History of the U. S. Military Telegraph Company. It is too late in the day for a great many of us to remember much that should be written & remembered by the future generations of what we did do and suffer without a complaint, as well as without a reward from the Government. I was in rebel prison but three and a half months—yet they passed as so many years. I suppose after we are dead and gone a grateful people will kindly mention our names and likely give our children a tin medal as a reward for the services rendered by their Fathers. You will pardon me for not being able to write the information you desire. I do not know why you want the information but hope whatever you do will be to the interest of all of us. I remain yours truly, — W. H. H. Lancaster.
[The second smaller note reads]
Earlham, Iowa Sept 26th 1905
Yours of 19th received. I have no serious objections with [your use of] the story of my capture. It is all true, but not in grammatical form for publication. If that can be looked over, go ahead. I neglected to tell you that I enlisted in the 17th Indiana Regt. Vols in Co. A. in June 1861 and was transferred to the military telegraph service in which service I served out my 3 years but remained in the service until my capture in Nov 1864 and released in March 1865, making my time in the field and as prisoner almost 4 years. I remain yours very respectfully, W. H. H. Lancaster.
Audubon County Republican, 11 June 1891Indianapolis journal, 4 June 1891
I could not find a war-time image of Jacob but here is one of John S. Shorr who served in Co. F, 90th Ohio Vol. Infantry (Ancestry.com)
This letter was written by Jacob Stiles Cockerill (1839-1936) who served in Co. C, 90th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). A biographical sketch composed for his 64th wedding anniversary claimed that Jacob entered the service as a private in April 1861; that he was forced to leave the army on account of sickness; returning to the ranks in July 1862; winning promotion to the rank of corporal in October 1862; sergeant in March 1864; and being mustered out in June 1865. He fought at Stone River, Kenesaw Mountain, and elsewhere. He married his wife, Hannah Roberta Limes (1849-1935) when he returned from the war; he was 27 and she was 17.
Jacob wrote the letter to Elma (“Ellie”) Doster, the 16 year-old orphaned daughter of John Doster (1803-1857) and Catherine Mooney (1807-1846). She was the younger sister of Lydia (“Lydy”) Doster (1839-1886) and Jacob Todhunter Doster (1837-1863)—both mentioned in this letter—of New Martinsburg, Fayette county, Ohio.
Transcription
Addressed to Miss Ellie Doster, Greenfield, Highland county, Ohio
Bridgeport, Alabama January 17, 1864
Friend Ellie,
Your kind letter written January 7th is at hand [and] is contents perused. I will take this Sabbath evening to respond. This is a beautiful day overhead. It is warm and nice. It gives me the blues to have to stay in camp today. I would like to go to Cochran’s to church. Going to church has played out with me.
Ellie, you spoke of going to school. I wish I was at home to go to school too. I see the need of a good education. I wish I had the opportunity to go to school 2 years. I think that I shall go if I ever get home again.
Ellie, I have no news of any importance to write. Everything is quiet. You get all the news that we do in the paper. We are still in camp at Bridgeport, This is quite a business place. There has been five trains passed through here today coming from Chattanooga. Boats are landing here every few hours. It makes the time pass a heap better than it would if there was no business going on. I think we will be likely to stay here some time yet—until the roads get good anyhow and that will be some time yet.
Ellie, did Lidy get that soldier’s record that I sent her? I sent her one some time ago. I have never heard whether she received it or not. Tell me in your next. I thought you would like to have one as your brother belonged to this company. 1 It will be very nice to put in a frame. Ask Lida if she thinks enough of it to write to me. I have written one or two letters to her and she never answered them. Perhaps she didn’t think them worthy of an answer.
Ellie, how are you and Alford Rease getting along? I expect to hear of a wedding one of these days. Ellie, I wish you would put it off until I get home if you can anyway conveniently. I would like to go to your wedding. I heard that Till Binegar [Matilda Jane Binegar] was married to a [James W.] Tracy. 2 If it is the case, I say Bully for them. Go in children. I believe in children marrying. I think maybe I shall come home on furlough between now and next fall to see all of the folks if nothing happens. I will close hoping to hear from you soon. Give my respects to all enquiring friends. Remember your school mate, — Jacob
1 Ellie’s brother who served in Co. C, 90th OVI was Jacob Todhunter Doster (1837-1863) who died on 10 February 1863 at Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
2 The couple were married on 3 January 1864 in Fayette county, Ohio.
The following letter was written by 43 year-old Mitchell Campbell Lilley (1819-1897), the proprietor of a moderately successful bindery and printing firm in Columbus, Ohio, at the time that civil war erupted in 1861. Having served previously in the Mexican War, and being a member of the local militia, Lilley was quick to offer his service as Captain of Co. H, 46th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). Ill health, however, forced Lilley to resign from active service in January 1863 but he returned to Columbus to command a home guard militia for the duration of the war.
Mitchell Campbell Lilley
Following the war, Lilley convinced the Ohio General Assembly that deaf students at the state institution for the deaf could be trained in bookbinding skills which enabled him to expand his business and branch out into other endeavors, such as manufacturing and distributing fraternal regalia.
Lilley was married in 1849 at Paris, Illinois, to Amanda C. Brooks. They had 13 children, five of who died in infancy.
The 46th OVI took part in Grant’s first attempt to seize Vicksburg which was to march his army overland from La Grange, Tennessee, following the Mississippi Central Railroad south toward Vicksburg. He imagined that a supply line could be maintained from Columbus, Kentucky, but this proved impossible. Once Grant’s forces had made it as far as 35 miles south of Grand Junction, the large supply depot he had established at Holly Springs in his rear was swiftly and unexpectedly attacked by Earl Van Dorn’s Cavalry, destroying $1.5 million of supplies, capturing the Federal garrison quartered there, and destroying track and bridges. The damage inflicted by Van Dorn’s troopers caused sufficient harm for Grant to withdraw his forces to Memphis and rethink his strategy.
In this letter, Capt. Lilley describes their return to Holy Springs and what they found when they got there.
As Mr. Howell is to make another start for Cairo tomorrow, I will give you another line. My last was not ready in time and Howell had been gone half an hour before I knew it, but did not go far until the train turned back and he with it. I then sent it by him to Oxford sixteen miles from here on the railroad. We are ten days behind in newspapers and have had no letters since we left Memphis (26th November). We are in hopes that there will be a mail by Christmas and will be somewhat disappointed should we receive none by the first of January 1863.
We are in the woods and fields here and short of news. All quiet here at present. I understand that five officers of this regiment have sent in their resignations this morning—Captains [A. Grant] Sharp and [Philip A.] Crow, Lieutenants [Charles E.] Taylor, [Harrison] McMichael, and [Amos L.] Parks. Should their resignations be accepted (the two captains being my superior officers), I shall advance in rank two notches. Jehoshaphat! What do you think of that? Just keep you temper and there is no telling what may turn up. The resignations are all on account of disability (none able to march).
Our boys are all well enough to keep about. George Aston has the chills and William Taylor is lame yet with his toe but will be well in a week. John and Bub are well as usual. Our table is made of clapboards outdoors and it is a little cool on the fingers today and gives me the rheumatism in my hands, and I am troubled with it some all over in damp weather. Our cook is improving and we shall have to train him to it as that is our only chance. I have packed Henry’s clothes in a box to send by Howell to his mother. Louis can send it up by the omnibus to Worthington His mother’s name is Dolly Turk. Everybody knows her about Worthington. 1
Lt. Beckett is out superintending the building of a railroad across the creek by order of General Denver. The flat is about one mile wide and they are making a corduroy road through it. Adjutant found some relatives two miles from camp by the name of Morgan. Col. [Charles C.] Walcutt is well and all the other officers.
If you get into any trouble about horses or cows, Mr. Mosberry will tell you what is best to do with them. Send letters to Cairo and they will find us some time. There is some talk of our marching tomorrow from this camp, I suppose we will go towards Grenada. Write and give us all the news. I did not put Tom’s handkerchief in the trunk but will try and take care of it for him. Yours, — M. C. Lilly
1 I infer from the preceding paragraph that Henry Turk was the black cook brought with the regiment to cook for the officers. Henry (or Hendrick) was the 27 year-old son of Henry and Dolly Turk of Worthington, Franklin county, Ohio. Dolly and her husband had been born in Virginia—most likely former slaves. In the same paragraph that “Henry’s clothes” are mentioned, it is stated that they are training a new cook.
The following plaintive missive expresses the pangs of an anticipated long separation experienced by the wife of a Union soldier who has just enlisted for three years. It was written by 35 year-old Mary Gifford (Richmond) Brown (1826-1891), the daughter of Allen Richmond—who passed away on 1 November 1861—and his first wife, Betsey Dennison Jones (1799-1830). Mary and her husband were married in March 1844. Because she was under the legal age to get married in Ohio and her parents opposed the union, they eloped to Bedford, Pennsylvania where a local Justice of the Peace solemnized their marriage. Once hitched, they settled in Newton Falls, Trumbull county, Ohio, where Mary’s husband made a living as a wagon maker. By the time of the 1860 US Census, the couple had three children—Libbie (age 14), Allen (age 10), and Joseph Denison, or Denni (age 7 months).
Mary’s husband was 43 year-old Joseph Brown who enlisted as a sergeant in Co. D of the 6th Ohio Volunteer Cavalry (OVC) in October 1861. This unit was organized at Camp Hutchins in Warren, Ohio; its members drawn mostly from the Western Reserve. They remained in Warren until January 1862 when they were sent to Camp Dennison for drill instruction. In March they were assigned to Camp Chase to guard Confederate prisoners. In the spring of 1862, they operated in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, and in June participated in the battle of Cross Keys, and again at Cedar Mountain and second Bull Run. They joined Burnside’s advance on Fredericksburg and went into winter quarters, guarding the Rappahannock. In the spring of 1863, they fought under Hooker at Kelly’s Ford, joined Stoneman’s raid, and followed Lee’s movement into Maryland, having several severe actions. The regiment took an active part at Gettysburg and followed Lee’s retreat, capturing many men and wagons. They participated in many engagements in Meade’s advance on the Rapidan and spent the winter fighting Mosby’s guerillas.
Before the Overland campaign began in 1864, however, Joseph became ill. Apparently he was with his regiment until about the 15th of March when he was taken sick and left the company encamped at Warrenton, Virginia, for Lincoln Hospital in Washington D. C. In early May, Lincoln Hospital was ordered to relocate convalescents in order to open up bed space for the anticipated wounded arriving from the Battle of the Wilderness and Joseph was sent with others to Lovell General Hospital in Portsmouth Grove, Rhode Island. His military record indicates he died there of erysipelas on 19 May 1864 after 2 years and seven months of service and separation from his beloved Mary—just five months short of his term of enlistment.
The sale of Joseph Brown’s property in Newton Falls following his death in 1864
Transcription
Addressed to Joseph Brown, Camp Hutchins, Warren, [Ohio], Care of Capt. Barrett Postmarked Newton Falls, Trumbull county, Ohio, December 2, 1861
December 1st 1861
To Joseph—the nearest, the dearest, and the best friend that I possess on Earth,
I thought this morning that you would receive no letters tomorrow written by me today. I arose from my bed with an aching head, sore throat, and severe pain in my shoulders and neck, could scarcely get breakfast but I feel considerably better this afternoon. Had taken a sudden sold I suppose. I feel Oh so lonely and sad. All nature seemed clothed in sadness. I have often remarked the past season, and especially this fall, that it was the gloomiest portion of my whole life. I have drank deep of sorrow’s cup and I sometimes think that I shall never cease drinking until I have quaffed its very dregs.
When my father gave me the parting kiss and the final adieu had passed his lips, I felt that I was parting with one so near and so dear to me—a parent that you know my whole life was bound up in from infancy. Oh how I have always loved that parent I had to love. But he is gone. The parting scene with my father was all enacted over in my dreams last night.
Joseph, this stroke nearly overcame me but I can endure this trouble with more fortitude than the last one that it is my lot to bear. A separation from you—the partner of my life, especially where that separation is fraught with so much to cause melancholy and uneasiness of mind. I cannot be cheerful or enjoy life in any way when I know or feel that you are exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, to all the contagious diseases incident to camp life, and also to the fare which many of our soldiers are compelled to bear. You may fare tolerably well now whilst you remain in Warren, but you cannot always stay there. And Joseph, you cannot imagine with what awful dread I anticipate the time of your departure.
The old adage is that every back is fitted for its burthen, but I fear that mine will prove treacherous. I could endure it better if there was no compulsion. But to think that you are compelled to stay and endure the fatigue, the hardships, and the privations which I know you will have to endure, and if sick, left to the mercy or and care of others, no friend near to administer to your wants or to assuage in any way your mental or physical suffering. Oh Joseph, I cannot bear to think. It almost sets me crazy, and still I cannot stop thinking were it not for our children, it would be better for me were I in my grave than to life and suffer so much torture of mind.
My nervous system has become so deranged that it is hard for me to govern myself. But I have managed to so far—have smothered and crushed down my feelings when it seemed as though I should sink into the Earth. The unseen ones are the only witnesses of my suffering. You are the only one to whom I have unbosomed my sorrow and the anguish which daily and hourly wrings my heart. You know very well what your feelings were when I was away from home two weeks! and what do you judge mine were when I look forward to 3 years of loneliness and possibly my lifetime.
Life is almost a burthen. I move around I hardly know how. My energy is wholly gone. I cannot enjoy the comforts of my home which you have so thoughtfully provided. But I must stop. I could write much more but I am sick and tired. I feel a great deal better than I did in the morning. What an awful dreary day this has been. But tis past, and so one after another will pass until mine will all have been numbered.
I would like to have you come home Saturday if you cannot before. The weather is so unfavorable, I suppose it will be difficult for you to come. But you will have to learn to brave all kinds of weather. Do write me often. If you should get any money, you may get me a dress off of this piece of calico unless you can find some black checked gingham. I can do better here in getting worsted goods. Can get a better piece off Coburgh for 3 shillings than that you sent up. You may get 10 yards of the calico. I would do it if they would give good measure or 9 and a half.
Andy Grove was here to see you on Friday about some tools. Wants to pay you in wood. Has laid out such tools as he wants and wishes you to set a price on them. The children are well.
Joseph, for your sake, I will try and be as cheerful as possible. Take good care of yourself and when you are in need of anything, let me know. From your truest friend, — Mary
Maybe you will think I have said all I could. I have only commenced. I dare not give full vent to my feelings.
Monday morning. Denni has kept me awake pretty much all night. I can not tell what ailed him. I think the earache.
Adj. John Stearns Smith, 6th N. H. Vols. (New Hampshire Historical Society)
The following letter was written by John Stearns Smith (1837-1916) of Peterborough, New Hampshire who enlisted at the age of 23 on 4 October 1861 as a private in Co. E, 6th New Hampshire Infantry. He was wounded on 29 August 1862 at the battle of the 2nd Bull Run and again on 30 July 1864 (Battle of the Crater) at Petersburg. He was promoted up the ranks to 1st Sergeant by 1 July 1862 and commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant on 1 November 1862. He made 1st Lieutenant on 20 March 1863 and was also assigned duty as the regiment adjutant on Field & Staff at the same time.
In this letter, written from the trenches before Petersburg, the 6th New Hampshire had just settled in for a siege of the city after a failed early attempt to capture the city a week earlier.
John was born at Waltham, Massachusetts, on 27 November 1837—the son of John Smith and Susan Stearns.
Transcription
Headquarters 6th Regt N. H. Veteran Vols. Near Petersburg, Virginia June 24, 1864
My dear cousin,
I have just received your letter and take the earliest opportunity to thank you for your punctuality in writing. That was a magnanimous resolution of yours to write to some soldier acquaintance every two weeks. I venture to hope that you will not find the duty a laborious or disagreeable one, if I am to be the fortunate recipient of your communications. I think you can do as much good with your pen as you can rolling bandages. For my own part, I had rather tear up my blouse for my wounds than forego the pleasure of my letters.
We are on the front line today. Our skirmishers are within 50 yards of a long, threatening line of rebel breast works and we only need to show our heads above the pits to receive salutes from a dozen minié rifles. But no matter how near the enemy we are, or how heavy a fire we are under, the mail is always distributed, and I assure you the missives from the rear are more agreeable than the missiles from the front.
The weather is exceedingly hot and dry. Imagine us marching some of these days in the burning, scorching sun, plodding through dust, eating dust, and seeing nothing but dust. Or charging rifle pits or skirmishing through almost impenetrable woods & under brush, or as now, lying under this tropical sun in little holes in the dirt with shells and minié balls flying in unpleasant proximity to my head, and you will have an idea of the life I lead.
Sometimes while lying in our torrid pits I cannot help thinking of the refreshing shades of Elm Hall, the delightful coolness of the water in the well, the delicious cider in the cellar, the luxury of clean clothes, the privilege of taking off sword, belt, pistol, boots, &c., where one goes to bed with the assurance of a night’s rest uninterrupted by the rattle of musketry on the picket line & cannonading in the rear. And of the salutary effects of breathing pure air, uninfected by the decaying debris of two vast armies. Do not infer from this that I am discouraged or down-spirited. I grow more insensible to danger and hardship every day and every day I see more reason to be thankful that life and health are still spared to me.
The Sanitary Commission are doing a noble work. Their praises are in everybody’s mouth. They have saved hundreds of lives and relieved an untold amount of suffering since the campaign commenced.
I am sorry my photographs are no better. I felt unwell the morning I sat for them and had no great expectations in them.
I have written to [ ] to retain them till I called for them. Tell him if you please not to circulate them. I will mail you a photograpg of the house when they are finished. Give my love to the family. I presume you have seen cousin Katie in Boston. I understand she has been visiting there. Remember e with kind wishes to Miss [ ]. I have not the least doubt you and I could play a successful game of bowls against her…
The following letter was written by Thomas F. Bragg (1840-1919) to his widowed mother, Elizabeth (Poage) Bragg (1814-Aft1904). In the 1860 US Census, Thomas was enumerated in his mother’s household in Union City, Randolph county, Indiana, where he worked as a Daguerre Artist. He is listed (“T. F. Bragg”) in Craig’s Daguerreian Registry as “ambrotypes and photographs” in Union City, Ohio, 1860.
Census records inform us that Thomas was actually born in Hancock county, Indiana. His deceased father’s name was Jackson Bragg (1811-1849).
Thomas enlisted on 23 April 1861 at Union City to serve 3 months in Co. I, 11th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). He was discharged at Columbus on 30 August 1861 at the end of his term of enlistment. Later in the war, he was drafted into Co. D, 27th Indiana Infantry and was discharged on 17 May 1865 after 16 months service.
In October 1904, Thomas was admitted into the Home for Disabled Soldiers at Indianapolis and was discharged on 29 March 1905. Admission records inform us that Thomas never married. That at age 65 he stood 5 feet 4 inches tall, had gray hair and dark eyes, that he was a Protestant and that he had been working as a real estate agent in Indianapolis.
Transcription
Addressed to Mrs. E. Bragg, Union City, Indiana
Bellaire, Ohio July 16th 1861
Dear Mother,
This day affords me the pleasure of once more communicating a few words with you by way of the pen. I learn from your last letter that you have not received all my letters dated since our arrival here. However, you may be well contented as we are enjoying good health and the pleasures of life exceedingly.
Well, this is no doubt the last week that we shall be in camp, our time being up Saturday. We shall as I before stated, return home at the close of our enlistment. I have thought something of calling at Uncle Samuel’s as we will pass near there. I have a desire to know what has been the matter with him for the last three months—why he has failed to comply with my several letters. I hope he has not turned traitor to his country.
We have had since our arrival here the pleasure of seeing many of our acquaintances from different parts of the country as this is the main crossing for those passing to and from the seat of war. We saw this morning several men from Capt. Stone’s Regiment stating that they were quartered at Buchanan, Va. and have been completely surrounded by the rebel forces. This we doubt from the fact that we hear so many rumors from that part of the country. We have almost come to the conclusion here to believe nothing we hear which gives us but little satisfaction to write anymore to our friends at home.
I shall not write to you any more unless something should turn up that might delay us a few days. You may look for us soon. Having nothing of an interesting nature to write, I close by giving my compliments to all the friends at home. I remain as ever, — T. F. Bragg
Sadly there is too little information for me to do anything but hazard a guess at this soldier’s identity and regiment. We only know that he was named “Bob.” But it is too good of a letter not to publish it. It was penned ten days after the Battle of Fredericksburg from the author’s winter camp near Belle Plain, Virginia. In his letter, the author tells his father, he was “been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle,” adding that the “soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war.”
One regiment is mentioned—the “130th Regiment”—which may be one that recruited and organized in the same home town as the one the author served in. However, the state name was not provided.
Ironically, Bob’s letter was written on patriotic stationery with the word “VICTORY” emblazoned across the top though it contained news of one of the worst defeats in the history of the Army of the Potomac.
An unidentified private with a disillusioned stare, “I thought I was going for the cause of my country but far different—it is to fill some man’s pocket.” (Paul McKee Collection)
Transcription
Camp in the pines near Belle Plains, Virginia December 23, 1862
My dear father,
I received yours of the 16th yesterday and I can assure you I was pleased as I had no letter from home for at least three weeks.
We have been in one more battle and one midnight skedaddle—that’s Burnside for them. But it must be acknowledged it was done systematically. Some of our batteries muffled their wheels with blankets. All moved off as quiet as mice. Our officers did not speak gruff that night passing you.
We were not engaged with our muskets on the left. It was all artillery except a little picket firing. Enough of that. I can tell you more when the war is over and the soldiers are at leisure. We do not hear anything about the 130th Regiment at all. Will and I have bought ourselves boots. We got tired of wading Virginia mud with shoes, but only take care of the boots. They will be well seasoned for us when we get home which I hope will not be long. This unnatural war must stop.
The soldiers were in good spirits until this retreat but now they say let the South have all they want. They’ll get it anyhow, We have no general sharp enough for Lee and another thing—if one man gets a start, then out goes he for somebody else in two weeks. This is nothing short of a political war. What do they care at Washington as long as the money rolls into their pockets. That’s what I think, and that I know to be the opinion of the men in general.
If I was at home now, they might draft me and then do what they could. I can see into this war now. I thought I was going for the cause of my country but far different—it is to fill some man’s pocket.
We are going into winter quarters now but I do not know how long it will last. We had orders about a week ago to the same effect, and just as we had the logs cut and carried where we wanted them old style, get ready to move. This time they will get them up anyway.
About those clothes, I do not know what to say. Better let them a week yet. We are both well and our respects to all. No more. Your obedient son, — Rob
You did not say one word about mother—whether she is well or not. Has she got a cough this winter? Mother, Bob won’t eat your pies this winter but would like to have one tomorrow for Christmas. Hoping to see you all soon, I shall close.
Spared & Shared 23 