All posts by Griff

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.

1864-65: Henry Snow to Mary E. Sears

I could not find an image of Henry in uniform but here is one of Pvt. George T. Meech of the 21st Conn. Volunteers

These letters were written by Pvt. Henry Snow (1839-1921), the son of Henry Snow, Jr. (1802-18xx) and Eunice Sears (1801-1875) of East Haddam, Middlesex county, Connecticut. Prior to his enlistment in Co. H, 21st Connecticut Volunteers, Henry was working in a bell shop. Henry entered the service in September 1862 and mustered out in June 1865. He was promoted to a corporal on 1 March 1865.

The regimental history compiled by Wm. Stone Hubbell contains some very interesting statics for Co. H of the 21st Connecticut. It claims that the average age was 27.6 and that 46 of the 100 men were married. There were 19 farmers, 21 mechanics, 13 laborers, 7 clerks, 6 teamsters, 6 sailors, and a smattering of 13 other occupations.

The 21st Connecticut Volunteer Infantry Regiment lost 5 officers and 55 enlisted men killed or mortally wounded and 1 officer and 114 enlisted men to disease during the Civil War.

Henry’s first letter, dated, 23 August, 1864, gives a good description of the Battle of the Crater that took place on 30 July 1864.

Other letters by members of the 21st Connecticut Vols published on Spared & Shared include:
Arthur Henry Dutton, F&S, 21st Connecticut (Union/15 Letters)
Thomas Latham Bailey, Co. C, 21st Connecticut (Union/38 Letters)

Letter 1

Addressed to Miss Mary C. Sears, East Hampton, Connecticut

In the rifle pits before Petersburg, Virginia
Tuesday morning, August 23rd 1864

Dear Cousin,

I received your kind letter of the 16th on the 20th and was very glad to hear from you. I had not heard from you for a long time. I have always answered all the letters that I have received from you.

We have indeed passed through many and trying scenes since I heard from you. When I write to you last we were at Rodman’s Point near Little Washington, North Carolina. Since then we have been almost all over Virginia. First, we went to Portsmouth and from there to Bermuda Hundred—a little above City Point—and to the Battle of Drewry’s Bluff, and from there to White House and from there to the Battle of Cold Harbor and from there back to White House and back to Bermuda Hundred, and from there to Petersburg where we are now and are likely to be for all that I know.

We have been here in sight of the City of Petersburg over two months now. We have been in the pits a good share of the time. We have to be up a good deal nights and sometimes all night, but we have stood it through—some of us. There is many a poor soldier that started with us on this campaign that is now sleeping beneath the sod or lying wounded in hospitals. Oh! how thankful all of us might be that while others are being called from this to another world, that we are still permitted to live and enjoy health and strength.

Our Corps was there when the [fort] blew up [see Battle of the Crater]. It was on the left of us—the line that we held, and they relieved us and sent us down there to relieve the 9th Corps and hold their works while they made the charge. This was on the 30th of July and a very warm day. You undoubtedly have seen an account of it in the paper but we were right there. Just as soon as the fort blew up, we all fired a volley from behind the breastworks and then they charged. But it was just like pulling teeth. They hated to go and I don’t blame them. The papers may cry out that the soldiers are in good spirits and eager for a fight, but I do not believe it. We lay there all that day amid the fighting and they lost everything that they gained in the morning. Towards night, after the fighting had ceased, I went up and looked over the breastworks where the charge was made and such a sight as that I never want to witness again. The bodies were lying one upon another, just as they had fallen, and some of them were wounded and you could see them wave their hands in pain out there in the hot sun between our lines and their lines so that we could not help them any. Anyone that has see a few such places as that will not be very eager for a charge.

It was not the fault of the men. I think that it was their officers—some of them were drunk. I am sorry to say it but we have officers in our own regiment that will get so drunk that they do not know what they are about. We have lost two good Colonels since this campaign commenced—as good ever need be over men and several good captains as there is in the regiment. Our regiment got reduced down pretty small. There is but 10 privates in our company [fit] for duty.

You say that the Sabbath School went out the other day to pick blackberries for the soldiers. I can tell you unless you send them right to them, the private soldier will get very little, if any, of them if some of the officers get hold of them [first]. I have known how these things are worked in this army better than folks at home. Our Doctor once went and drew shirts and drawers and such things for the men from the Sanitary Commission and then gave them out among the officers. I do not know of but one that got anything. So you see how things go on here.

I received the drawers and towel that you sent me and was very thankful for them but did not know who sent them. They were just right for me. I have a great deal more that I could write if time and space would permit me but as my sheet is about full, I shall have to close. I guess that it will bother you some to read some of this but you must excuse all mistakes as I have written in a hurry and excuse that dirt on the bottom of the page for my hand got wet and I got some dirt on it and put it on there before I thought. So I will close with respects to all inquiring friends.

Accept this from your cousin, — Henry


Letter 2

Camp of the 21st Regiment Connecticut Vols.
On Chapin’s Farm, Virginia
February 14th 1865

Dear Cousin,

I received your kind letter of January 10th a long time ago and do not know but you will think that I have forgotten you entirely. But it is not so. I often think of home and all the friends that are dear to me there and wish that I could see them all once more. But I must wait patiently and I trust that the time is coming when we shall all meet again. If not on this earth, may we all meet in Heaven where there will be no parting there.

The Christian Commission have got a large tent set up where they hold meetings every eve in the week and they have good ones so there is a good attendance. The tent is pretty full every eve. I enjoy going to them when I am not on duty. I should have been on duty today but I was excused from one turn of guard making the best shot the other morning. We have to go down every morning when we come off guard and the one that makes the best shot out of the guard is excused from one turn.

Henry Snow in later years

We have to drill every day—a company drill in the forenoon and a battalion drill in the afternoon. We drill an hour and a half each time which makes three hours. Our regiment is so small that it is not much to drill it. We do not have as many out on drill out of the whole regiment as we used to have in one company. When we came out this forenoon, there was three privates and one sergeant for drill. The rest were on guard or fatigue or had just come off guard. But we are large enough I hope that they will not send us any recruits. We have got a few that came to us about one year ago and that is enough. There is every few days someone deserting to the rebels from other regiments and some of them get caught and then have to be shot. It is nothing strange for us to hear that there is a man to be shot on such a day. There was one shot about a weeks ago within a half mile of here. They have never taken us up to witness it but they take those that desert—most, that is—so as to give them warning I suppose. I saw in the paper the other day the Newel Roots execution. He was very foolish to desert and then get shot. The drum has just beat for drill so I will close and finish some other time.

Tuesday evening. I have just come from meeting. There is quite a revival. There is quite a number of hopeful ones and I wish that there were more. I expect that Henry Sellew is on his way back to the Regiment. Hubert is in Washington yet and they talk of putting him into the Invalid Corps but do not know whether they will or not. There is a great deal said about peace now days. I do not know whether there is anything in it or nit but I hope that they will make peace if they can make it on the right terms. But I uphold Old Abe in saying that he does and not flinch at it. But it is getting late and I will close. Please excuse all mistakes and give my respects to all inquiring friends and accept this from your cousin.

— Henry Snow

1863: Samuel W. Madison to Nancy Madison

I could not find an image of Samuel but here is an unidentified Union private approximately Samuel’s age.

This letter was written by Samuel W. Madison (1840-1864) while serving in Co. F, 13th Indiana Infantry. According to muster records, Samuel enlisted as a private on 19 June 1861 and he died of chronic dysentery at Davids Island, New York, on 14 February 1864.

A claim for a widow’s pension was filed by Samuel’s mother, Elizabeth, after she received word of his death. She contended that relied upon the wages of her son, her husband Robert having died in 1853.

The 13th Indiana Volunteer Infantry Regiment was originally accepted for state service for one year and was organized at Indianapolis for the U.S. service by volunteers from the companies in camp. It was one of the first four regiments volunteering from the state for three years.

Transcription

Camp 13th Regiment
Folly Island, South Carolina
September 8, 1863

Dear Sister,

I seat myself this morning to write you a few lines to let you know how I am getting along. In the first place, you will excuse my ragged paper as I have no other here in the tent and the sun is very hot and I am too lazy to go to the sutler’s shop to get any.

I have not got altogether well yet and I would state here that you may hear that I got wounded which I did but it was so slight that it is hardly worth mentioning. It was by a small piece of shell—not bigger than a pea. Went in my shoulder. It is about well now. It was on the first night of this month. We was laying in front of Fort Wagner and a shell from there burst over our company and wounded two besides me, but none of us bad enough to stop from duty. So if you hear about me being wounded, you need not be uneasy for it is as I say. It don’t amount to much. I would of not said anything about it but I thought you might hear it and think it is a good bit worse than it is.

There has been five in our company wounded since we are here but only two that is shot bad as to stop from duty. Fort Wagner and Fort Gregg and all Morris Island is now in our possession and today the gunboats have been keeping up a heavy fire all morning—to what effect, I don’t know.

I will close for this time hoping these few lines may find you all enjoying good health. Write soon. I am your brother till death. — Sam Madison

Company F, 13th Regiment, Indiana Volunteers
Foster’s Brigade, Folly Island, S. C.

Please send me a few stamps.

1862: Albert Clarence Aubery to Cullen Bullard

This letter was written by 17 year-old Albert Clarence Aubery (1844-1932), the son of Harvey F. Aubery and Annabella Dodge of Brooklyn. In 1860, Albert’s father was a liquor dealer in NYC. After preparatory school, Albert attended the University of Vermont and then graduated from Columbia College in 1867 and became a lawyer.

Albert wrote the letter to his cousin, Cullen Bullard, Jr., the son of Cullen Bullard (1806-1883) and Wealthy Bullard Aubrey (1812-1894) of Weybridge, Vermont.

Albert’s letter informs his cousin of the grand welcoming party sent to greet Gen. Michael Corcoran—a favorite Irish son of NYC—who had recently been released from Rebel prison where he had been confined for over a year.

Transcription

Addressed to Master Cullen Bullard, Weybridge, Vermont

New York
August 23, 1862

Dear Cousin and Friend,

I wrote to Uncle and Aunt when I arrived and by the letter, you know before this, that I am once more within the limits of this vast city. Last evening I wrote to my friend at __emsters and went down to the post offie this morning so it would go by this day’s mail. On my way home, I thought of you and Vermont and at the next corner at a paper stand, I bought you this week’s Harpers Weekly as on the first page is the engraving of General [Michael] Corcoran who was a prisoner in Richmond, Va., since the Battle of Bulls Run. You have heard a great deal of this man and I thinking you would like to see him, I bought it for you.

Gen. Michael Corcoran’s lithograph in Harper’s Weekly, August 1862

Yesterday he arrived in the city. I went down Friday where I saw the procession and the General and then run down some of the other streets ahead of the procession to the corner of Stanton Street and Bowery where I saw him again. The procession was composed of a few military and some prisoners who came from Richmond with the General and a large procession of Irish societies which in all made about 2 or 3 thousand people in the procession and took about an hour to pass. General Corcoran rode in an open carriage drawn by four or six horses (I forget which), all decorated (with plumes on their heads and some of the most beautiful horses I ever saw. He had his hat off and once in awhile stood up to make a bow to the ladies. You know, Cullen, Aunt Wealthy did complain of what a noisy fellow I was. I tell you, if she was in the city when Corcoran passed and heard me yell and scream and shout, what in the world would she think? I think she would say I made more noise than all the rest for my voice was heard above all others.

The city was greatly decorated with flags and ensigns, “Welcome Corcoran—the Hero of the Brave.” Now you want to know something about the crowd? Just before the procession came, you could walk on the people’s heads, when the policemen received notice to clear the streets so the procession could pass. I tell you, Cullen, many a person got a sap over he head with the policeman’s club. I was in such a place that I could not see my feet and my hat being jammed with now and then a thump upon my breast by a policeman’s club and begging, “Stand Back!” when they are pushing like “thunder” behind.

Quite a disturbance took place last evening next door to our house. A man tried to kill his wife. He stabbed her in the head and cut her considerable. He was arrested soon after.

The city is in quite an excitement about the war and the rumor of Gen. Pope being cut to pieces by “Stonewall” Jackson.

Tell Mother I received the letter she sent which came from Danbury. I go to Danbury on Wednesday. Cullen, I am in a great hurry and would write more. I would send and write you the whole four pages full if I had time. You will please excuse all imperfections. Remember me to all enquiring friends. I remain your close friend and cousin, — Albert Clarence Aubery