The following letter was only signed “Henry” and though he gave his regiment as the 30th Indiana Infantry, the regimental roster does not include any late war draftees in it. The reorganized 30th Infantry, however, does and I was able to find him in Co. C of that reorganized regiment. He was William Henry Lockwood, born 1835, married in 1863, the son of Wesley Lockwood (1808-1881) and Mary Ann Philo (1809-1901) of Quincy, Branch county, Michigan.

It isn’t clear where Henry and his wife were living at the time of the 1864 draft but it’s presumed someplace in Indiana as he was subject to the draft there and he speaks of his wife “coming to Michigan” for a visit. According to the roster of the reorganized 30th Indiana, Henry was mustered into the service on 29 September 1864 and he was mustered out on 13 July 1865.

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Pulaski, Tennessee
November 17th 1864

Dear Parents, Brother & Sisters,

It is with pleasure that I improve the present time in penciling a few lines to let you know where I am. I am with the 30th Indiana Regiment which is at Pulaski now. How long we will stay here, I do not know. We are not assigned to any company yet so when you send me any letters, direct to Pulaski, Tennessee, 30th Regiment Indiana Volunteers, care of Captain Boydson, and they will come all right.

I am well at present except a bad cold. I had the diarrhea when I started from Indianapolis and it continued until I got here, but I am better now. The soldier’s life is no life for me. I used to think that I had hard times at home. I longed to be of age so that I could have liberty and do as I pleased, but I did not know what enjoyment was. Now I can see when I spent my happiest days. It was when I was young and had not a care on my mind, when I had kind parents to look at my welfare and take care of me when sick, to guard me from danger and give their advice in regard to my best interest. But how changed is the scene. I am in the army and surrounded by the evil influences that generally prevail in a camp life, and also exposed to the murderous fire of the enemy’s guns. In looking into the future all is dark in respect to things earthly. It is my prayer to God that I may be permitted to survive the dangers that the soldier is exposed [to] and meet with my friends on earth again. I spend a great many hours in thinking of home.

I did come with a willing mind. I hated [to] leave home and friends most dear and take a my life in my hand for the purpose of fighting to sustain this cruel war. [But] I could not get anyone to go in my place so I had to go, and I must make the best of it I can. If I fall in battle or by disease, it is my prayer that I may fall with the armor of Christ, my Redeemer, on. Pray for me.

When I think of my father and mother, brother and sisters and also my dear wife, tears will unbidden start in my eyes and I have to go out by myself and give vent to my feelings. Father, tell Libbeous not to be over anxious to get into the army [for] if once he gets in, he will wish himself out again. He is the best off to stay at home as long as he can. Jennie talked of coming to Michigan on a visit. Make her as contented and happy as you can. She had rather I would have let the last cent and last bed go for a substitute than had me go to the army, but that could not be done as substitutes were from 700 to 1,000 dollars and I could not raise that sum. The best way I could fix it, consequently, [was] I had to go myself. I hope that I will live to get home again.

The rebels are no where near us now. The weather is warm here now. There has not been frost enough to kill the blackberry leaves yet. The crickets are singing as merry as in June in Michigan. There are lots of grasshoppers and spiders running as lively as in summer up there. The country is desolate and dreary. Everything appears to be on a standstill. It is all high hills, deep gullies, and rocks. If what I have seen is an index of the Sunny South, it not worth half the money that has been spent to carry on this war—[to] say nothing about the lives lost and families broken up. I had no idea of the destruction of property until I came here and have not begun to see all yet. The railroad has been burned to the ground, fences used for firewood, and the whole country presents one almost unbroken commons. I will be glad for one when the end comes. When that will be, I do not know.

Direct your letters to Pulaski, Tennessee, 30th Regiment Indiana Volunteers, in care of Capt. Boydson and they will come all right. I want some of you to write as soon as you get this. I want to hear from home. I have [not] heard one word from any of my friends since I left. Do not delay 24 hours. One letter from home will do me a great deal of good. So write immediately. From your son, — Henry

Remember me to the throne of Grace. Best respects to all. Tell Horace to write. I have only one sheet.