The following letter was written by John Dill, a 35 year-old farmer from Old Hickory, Botetourt County, Virginia, when he enlisted on 18 July 1861 at Jackson, Virginia, as a Private in Co. K (“Botetourt Guards”) of the 57th Virginia Infantry, Pickett’s Division. He was wounded at 2nd Manassas and slightly wounded at Gettysburg on 3 July 1863. He was captured at Five Forks on April 1, 1865 and paroled from Johnson’s Island on June 18th of the same year.

Dill was promoted to Corporal on May 10, 1862 and to 2d Lieutenant on May 10, 1864. He was described as 5′ 6″ tall, dark complexion, hazel eyes and dark hair. He died in 1914. He was married to Eliza Jane Peck (1834-1912) in 1856. The “Mollie” mentioned in the letter was probably John’s younger sister, Mary Hester (“Mollie”) Peck (1841-1926).

There is another of Dill’s letters archived at the Library of Virginia. It was dated 6 September 1861, just a few days before this letter. In fact, it is the very letter John wrote to his father mentioned in this letter. It discusses his trip to Richmond, their encampment at the fair grounds in Richmond and life in the camp. Dill also discusses the large number of Confederate soldiers stationed around Richmond and the building of breastworks near the city. He also mentions large numbers of Union soldiers being held as prisoners of war in the tobacco factories of Richmond and the poor conditions in the local hospitals.

Transcription

Camp of Instruction
Richmond, Virginia
September 11, 1861

Dear Eliza,

I received your letter yesterday evening. I also received the first letter you wrote a few days since. I was very glad to hear that you were all well and getting along well. I would like very well to come home and see you all but alas: there is poor hopes of that soon. I am not home sick. I stand it a great deal better than I expected. I have not been able to drill any for a few days on account of a very large bile [boil] on the side of my neck, It is very painful indeed.

Tell Mollie she must try to do the best she can with you and the children when she comes down until I come back and then I will keep things right. I expect you will need some correcting too. Tell Mollie I was very glad to get a letter from her. She must write to me often. I wrote to Wm. Haythe [?] the other day. I suppose he will answer it soon.

I do not know how long we will stay here. The captain wanted us to take flintlock muskets but the majority of the company would not have them. If we can get suitable guns, I suppose we will go on to Manassas Junction in a few days. I do not know what is going on out that way. They are moving the sick away from there and I understand they are moving some of the prisoners from here to South Carolina. From the way things are working, I think there will be some fighting done before long if they are not at it now. I do not know whether we will be in it or not. We are not well enough drilled even if we had guns.

I understand from some of the letters that come to some of our company that some of the girls wants to know what is the matter with some of the boys that got off from our company. I think they would better not marry them for if they are not able to stand a Yankee, they can’t stand a woman. I think some of them that got off are just as able to make the trip as I am, but you must not say anything to them about it. Just let them rip. Some of the men that know the doctor said if the mean old doctor had of examined them, half of them would not have gotten off. I do not try to get off myself. If I can just have my health all the time as well as I have it now is all I ask. I have an excellent appetite and I got plenty to satisfy it. When a man has good health and plenty to eat, he should be thankful.

You must think of me often. I both think and dream of you. Sometimes I dream I am with you but I soon find my mistake.

I thought I would only write that one little sheet but I will say a little more as it is all the same price. Tell Mollie when she is eating corn she must eat some for me. I miss vegetables very much. We can get such things here but we have to pay about three prices for them. Tell Father I wrote to him a few days since. He said in his letter I must write to him. I will write to him again soon. Tell the Old Lady I have not got the palpitation of the heart yet. I want to make a few of the Yankees hearts palpitate before i get it. Tell the folks around that we are all well except two or three who are complaining a little, but not dangerous.

I suppose you have plenty of fried chicken but poor old me can’t get any. But that is a small matter. I would like to swap with you sometimes. I could give you some beef for some chicken.

Oh, I was about to forget to tell you I am cook today. I baked some biscuits and the Boys said they were the best they had eaten since they left home and even better than some they got when they were at home. Now you can see what a smart husband you have. When I get back, I can learn you how to cook when you get a little lazy. If you talk right nice to me, I will cook for you. Tell Marietta and Sallie they must be good children until I get back.

Give my love to the old folks and to your Father’s folks. Also to John & Fala [?] and Add., Mollie & Adalade, to Pres, Betty, John & Bull, and all of my other friends in general. You must write to me soon before we leave Richmond. When we leave, I will let you know where to direct your letter, but you must direct your letters to Richmond until I tell you otherwise.

One of the soldiers here was walking along the other day with a large knife in his hand and fell down and run his knife into him to his backbone. He died in a short time. He was supposed to be intoxicated. I do not know his name.

You must excuse this mixed up and badly written letter. There is so much fuss about here a man cannot have his mind on any one thing long. Hoping this may find you all well and I may hear from you soon, I remain your affectionate husband (a long ways from home), — Jno. Dill