The following letters were written by John Simpson Crocker (1825-1890), the son of Francis W. Crocker (1790-1861) and Anna Woodworth (1795-1874). John was married to Harriett Sipperley in 1856 in White Creek, Washington county, New York. Crocker was 38 and working as a lawyer in Washington county when he volunteered his services and was commissioned Colonel of the 93rd New York State Volunteers.

In the Peninsula Campaign, Crocker was taken prisoner before Yorktown on 23 April 1862 and confined at Libby Prison for a time but was finally exchanged for Colonel Lorman Chancellor, 132nd Virginia Militia, in the late summer of 1862 in time to rejoin his regiment for the Battle of Antietam. At war’s end, Crocker was breveted a Brigadier General.

There are four letters in this collection; the first written in February 1862 from Riker’s Island in NYC where the regiment was being drilled and prepared to be sent to the battle front in Virginia. The second letter was written in late August 1862 after Crocker was exchanged as a POW but before he had rejoined his regiment. Letter three was written on the march to Fredericksburg in November 1862 and letter four was written less than two weeks before the Battle of Fredericksburg as the AOP prepared to lay down pontoon bridges.

Letter 1

93rd Regiment NYSV
“Morgan Rifles”
Camp Bliss, Riker’s Island
February 23rd 1862

My much beloved Hattie,

Yours of 19th inst. is received. I was very much rejoiced to receive tidings from my beloved at home. Day after day I had looked for a note from my dear one but only to be disappointed. So I was all the more rejoiced when it did come. I am very sorry my dear little Frankie has been sick. I hope he is better. tell him Pa would like very much to see him & kiss him & hold him on his lap but he cannot now. Someday he will. Little Irving & Johny too. Pa would like to see them all. He loves them dearly. He hopes to pass years of happiness with them hereafter and hopes that they will be good boys & grow up good & useful men. I have no doubt my dear one that you feel quite lonely on account of my absence. We have been & still are near & dear to each other. Seldom separated & never for a long season which makes the sting of our present separation more keenly felty. I feel sad & lonely at times as I think of the dear ones at home and the manner I have torn myself from them. You may think my dear one that I have not done right. Perhaps I have not, but God is my witness that I have only done what I believed to be my duty. I hope I shall be able to do my duty on all occasions whilst I live. I shall at least endeavor to do so.

You ask whether I rode or walked in New York on my arrival. I walked at the head of my regiment, four miles through the city and did not receive any injury from it. I did not sleep a wink the night before I left you at Albany but was constantly on duty exercising a watchful care over my command and the result was that my entire command arrived safely without injury or loss by desertion or otherwise. I have the pleasure of knowing that by being present in the night & having personal charge of my men, I was instrumental of saving the life of one at least of my men who but for me would have been crushed beneath the cars. The cars, after having stopped a few minutes, commenced moving. One of our men tried to get on board when the cars were in motion. I was outside & immediately ordered the brakes to be applied which my men readily obeyed. In the meantime the man trying to get on board got hold of the iron railing, lost his balance and was dragging just before one of the wheels. Capt. [William] Randles & myself rescued him from his perilous position. The brakes having been applied slackened this speed and enabled us to save him. My men would not have dared to apply the brakes at the command of any other officer without which, the man could not have been saved.

At another station the train was detained an hour or so. Several of my men had been out of the cars. I went out with some of the officers to compel the men to go board the cars. Just as we were about to start, two span of horses took fright and ran away, passing between the train and some buildings where was a a sweet little boy about the size of Irving. He was right in front of the teams. I saw his dilemma & sprang in & snatched the boy in my arms & threw him onto the platform of the cars just in time to save him. After the teams passed, as the train was moving very slowly, I let the boy down safely to the ground again and his father took him in his arms and a large crowd gave cheer upon cheer for hte one who saved the boy. I felt well paid for my efforts & labors that night.

Every attention was shown my regiment in New York that could be desired. We are in comfortable quarters here. Friday morning we had a man [George Austin] from Salem die of congestion of the lungs. Poor fellow. He had been sick but two days. He was a good soldier—a young man of considerable promise. His funeral took place here on the morning of the 22nd. As we had no chaplain present, I was obliged to detail an officer to perform the service. I detailed Lieut. [James M.] Crawford who is an Episcopalian. He read the funeral service peculiar to that church. The ceremony was solemn & impressive. The corpse was sent to his friends in Salem attended by Lieut. Crawford of whose company he was a member.

We have had nothing to cast a shade around us here but the circumstance just alluded to. The men seem to be happy & contented and are rapidly improving in discipline and military tactics. I don’t know how long we shall remain here but think we shall stay ten days longer for the men to get their pay. I have not been off the island since our first arrival here. I don’t think there is another officer in the regiment but has been off several times. I have drilled the regiment myself daily since our arrival.

Rikers Island is in the East River as it is called between Long Island and the mainland, eight miles from New York. The best way to get here is to take the cars at the Astor House & come up to Harlam. Take the Third Avenue cars from the Astor to Harlam, then you would get a carriage to the point opposite the island, a little over a mile, the cross on a small boat which is always ready at hand to bring over passengers. I have taken the medicine you procured & nearly another bottle which I got the quartermaster to procure for me. I think it is very good. I continue to improve & consider myself pretty well now.

Harriet, I had a terrible cold when I left Albany. I did not tell you the worst then. My throat and lungs were badly inflamed, but on my arrival at New York, my cold or influenza or whatever it was began to loosen up & you have no idea the amount of mucous stuff I raised. My voice begins to get clear & natural again. The morning after I arrived at New York, I weighed 113 pounds all told. I now weigh 120 showing a gain of seven pounds. Isn’t that doing well?

I feel persuaded that if I had stayed in Washington county, I should have never been able to stand it till the month of June. I wish I had you all snugly located in some favored spot in this vicinity or further south. I fondly hope that at some future day my wishes in this regard may be realized.

The day I left Albany I was sued by William C. Little & Co. of Albany on that old claim for books. You have heard me speak of it before. The books I never had nor any other thing nor could he have got judgment if I could have attended to it. I retained a lawyer of Albany to attend to it. If he did so faithfully, it is all right. If not, they probably got judgement for some $20 to $30. That louse of a Ketcham formerly from Pittstown was at the bottom of it. He must not come around the 93rd if he wishes to preserve his skin. If they got judgement, it was through the crime of perjury. But never mind. It is not of sufficient account to mention in a letter. Only you should know it.

I don’t know whether I shall want any money sent to me or not yet. Don’t send any till I write. If we get paid on the first of March, I can get along. Keep all the money you have for your own use unless H. M. W. & Phoebe needs some. Deal out to them as their wants require…I hope you will send me the photographs of the boys. Hat, I know I have left some enemies behind—some miserable whiny curs—but let them go. I know too full well I have left many very, very good friends. My enemies may & probably will endeavor to traduce my character now I am away. Time will bring all things right, I fully believe. I feel that I must see you before I go further south. I would like also to see the boys and Phoebe & Hannah but don’t know as I can. I will write again tomorrow or next day. Perhaps I can devise some means to see you at least. Kisses to the boys and sister Phoebe and a sweet affectionate embrace to my dear wife. Yours forever, — John S. Crocker

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Letter 2

Washington D. C.
August 31, 1862

My dear Harriet,

I have the pleasure of stating that I arrived here this morning in good health. On my way on Friday I stopped at Albany, called at the Departments, and finished my business satisfactorily & left for New York on the 4 p.m. train. I arrived at New York at 9 p.m. so weary that I concluded to go to the Astor House where I staid overnight. I passed the day on Saturday in New York in the midst of friends by whom I was surrounded. I met Mr. Bramhall, Judge [Henry] Hogeboom, & a great many others of the first men in the city & finally went into Brooklyn with Mr. [George Burt] Lincoln, the postmaster of the City of Brooklyn, who is a distant relative of the President and is also a man of great influence in our state. By him I was highly entertained and introduced to many of his friends. I certainly have reason to feel proud of the kindly greeting I received in New York and Brooklyn from those whom I met there among the gentlemen of the first character and position. Mr. Bramhall had me sit for photographs. He is to send you one & said he should send me a package of them also.

On my arrival here I found they had sent on with my baggage a case of claret wine which cost thirty-six dollars. I think much of the present as I can’t get cider. It will answer me a good purpose. I think I never met in my life such kind and marked attention as I met on Saturday except at my own home.

Saturday last at 6 p.m., I left New York and arrived here this a.m. I immediately reported at the War Office but shall not get my orders till tomorrow. If I had known the exact situation of matters, I might have staid at home another day. I should gladly have availed myself of the privilege if I had known I could do so with safety. A report from me tomorrow would have answered as well as today. I expect to remain here or go to Annapolis, Maryland, for a short time. I will write you more particularly as soon as I get my orders. A portion of my regiment is at McClellan’s Headquarters at Fortress Monroe.

There is hard fighting going on over at Bulls Run. The fight has been raging with varied success and reverses since Friday. An immense excitement prevails in this city. No authentic information can be obtained. I hope for good news. New recruits are pouring in here in large numbers. Several thousand have arrived today.

Harriette, you must compose your mind. Let not dark forebodings get possession of your mind again. It grieves me to think your mind is so depressed. You must brighten up. We shall see better & brighter days, I hope. Let us trust Providence. Don the best we can and pray and hope for happiness. I hope our dear little Irving is better. I was sorry to part with him while sick. I was sorry to separate from you all. I hope it is but for a little season. Nothing but a sense of duty would have induced me to do so. Dare has had the fever. William is now home in a furlough sick. All our friends are again in the city havung fled for safety from their homes—Sanford included. Your dear sister Sally Ann is well. She is a true sister to us. Give my kind & affectionate regards to our dear boys and sister Phoebe & Mother and believe me yours in love ever, — John S. Crocker

I saw sister Jane & Sarah today.

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Letter 3

Headquarters 93rd Regiment NYSV
“Morgan Rifles”
Grand Army of the Potomac
Camp near Weaverville, Va.
November 16th, Sunday eve., 1862

My dear Hattie,

This morning at 10:30 a.m., we broke camp at Warrenton & marched to this place, distance 12 miles. I have heard of no accident on the way. We passed through Auburn (a very small village), Catlett’s Station (a small village on the Alexandria & Orange Railroad entirely abandoned by its inhabitants) and Weaverville near which we now are. This last named place is the largest of the three, but it is one of the most shabby, rickety places that we have yet passed. The day has been very fine. The roads pretty good but quite dusty. The country through which we marched today bears unmistakeable evidence that troops have been along this way before. Last fall & winter, last spring & during the summer, and again in the early autumn, rebels and Union troops each in turn were here. Devastation and destruction is the unerring work; and they were exhibited on every hand. The surface of the country is undulating and rather pleasing to the eye, but the soil is poor and the farming miserable. No splendid mansions nor magnificent plantations were to be seen. Nothing that looked cheerful or inviting.

There was sharp fighting near our last camp yesterday afternoon. A lieut. of cavalry with whom I was acquainted was killed & many others. Our poor Union soldiers lay dead by the roadside as we came along. Our troops held the Rebels in check. The roads today were mostly taken up by the trains—the troops marching through the adjacent fields. The troops on such marches move by the flank which makes them four deep besides the rank of file closers so called, being the officers & sergeants. The men march about 28 inches apart. Frequently several lines will be marching side by side in this way extending as far as the eye can reach & yet they will not intermingle with each other. Each man has his appropriate place and keeps it.

We are not provided with forage for our horses and mules and consequently have to take it from the farmers wherever we can find it. Our horses and mules had nothing to eat yesterday and today until we arrived here, so completely has the country been drained that we could not get it for them yet. Our animals were obliged to haul heavy loads today. Tonight they are bountifully supplied to the great vexation of the poor devils from whom we have taken it. I suppose they may hereafter get pay for it by proving that they have been good, true, loyal citizens of the Union—a point which it will be difficult for them or any of them to establish. Secesh—dark & doleful secesh—may safely claim them all. In my judgment, they deserve the severe lesson they are receiving for their treason. They are destitute of tea, coffee, sugar, salt, and that (to them) all important article whiskey together with about all of the other luxuries and most of the necessaries of life. Poor deluded creatures! Even the negroes have left them alone in their folly.

Thus we have passed the Sabbath. So good night my dear. We are to go on again in the morning.

Camp ten miles beyond Weaverville
on the military road to Fredericksburg, Va.
November 17, 1862

Well, my dear, here we are ten miles from any place in particular. The troops commenced moving at daylight. We started for Spotter’s Tavern but when about half way, orderlies with foaming steeds came hurrying along with orders to halt & bivouac where we were which we did. It seems that a brush with the Rebs is going on & the track must be cleared of the cavalry before we go further. Besides, they are disturbing our rear and that must be attended to. We are all pretty well huddled together tonight. The officers at headquarters occupy a little space which is protected on two sides by a dense pine forrest, on another by cavalry and infantry, and the 4th by several batteries of artillery. We feel perfectly secure tonight.

We are now twenty-one miles from Fredericksburg. The country we have passed through today is very forbidding. The soil is very light and since the war commenced has not been cultivated. Many of the houses have been deserted. The Conscript Law has drawn into the Rebel service all of the able-bodied white males between 14 and 60. Most of the negroes have either gone North or been taken further South. In any event, of this way, slavery in Virginia is gone up.

The fighting this afternoon & evening has been near Acquia Creek and at Fredericksburg. An aide has just arrived with favorable news from the fight & we shall go ahead in the morning.

Tuesday, November 18th

After midnight last night I was awakened by an orderly with an order from the General to have the details & guards for headquarters ready at daylight. The order was executed and at early dawn we were moving on again. I was on duty most of the night. It rained gently during the night. This morning a cloudless sky appeared again & it has been a warm, lovely day. The roads were good. The rain laid the dust and there was not enough of it to cause any mud. The appearance of the country through which we passed today is slightly improved upon that of yesterday. We passed a few handsome country residences and some good farming lands. The country is almost completely drained of provisions, produce and stock. It has been difficult for us to get provisions & forage to subsist our men and teams. We have been obliged from necessity to take from the people what we needed & that has generally been all they had. What these miserable people subsist on this winter, I know not. They are suffering now from want & yet they adhere tenaciously to secession. Most of them, however, admit they are tired of the war and many are hopeless of success.

We have marched thirteen miles today & are encamped on a beautiful rise of ground where there was considerable fighting yesterday eight miles from Fredericksburg. A portion of our troops entered Falmouth opposite Fredericksburg today. he whole army will move on to that point tomorrow. We have had no mail in several days.

Camp near Falmouth, Va.
November 19, 1862 evening

Well, my dear Hattie, here we are after a march of eight miles through a heavy rain & much mud. Perhaps you think we move slowly. If so, imagine an army whose soldiers numbered by hundreds of thousand, whose horses and mules number scores of thousand, whose cattle, sheep & other animals that are driven along with it for food number tens of thousands, an army with its train of baggage, provisions, ammunition, batteries, cavalry, ambulances, &c. if all in one line moving as compactly as possible on the same road would extend (according to estimates of good judges) from 75 to one hundred miles in length. The teams being heavily loaded and the men carrying besides their arms from fifty to seventy-five pounds in their haversacks and knapsacks, &c. upon their backs & besides being obliged to fight its way along as it penetrates an enemy’s country, and you will conclude such an immense cavalcade cannot be moved very rapidly under such circumstances—especially in such a country as this.

Falmouth is situated on the north bank of the Rappahannock nearly opposite Fredericksburg, Va. It is an old shaky town of 600 to 800 inhabitants. The streets are irregular & dirty. The men take kindly to whiskey & tobacco. The women are not tidy. The niggers have mostly skedaddled. In short, the whole concern looks as though they were rapidly going to the devil. Fredericksburg on the south side of the Rappahannock is still in the hands of the Rebels. The river here is about the size of the Battenkill at Union Village. Across this river the pickets of the two armies have conversed with each other today. Our position on this side of the river is on much higher ground than the site of the city of Fredericksburg and completely commands the town. General Burnside has sent in a demand for the surrender of the city. If it is not done, he will give them shell tomorrow. From my tent I have a fair view of the city and of the rebel troops in and around it. They have batteries arranged so as to command the ford above the city and others that are ranged towards the ground we occupy. Still I don’t think we shall hear from them.

We shall take Fredericksburg and then remain a few days in the vicinity, but it will be only a few days. We shall go ahead. Yes, you can rely upon it. We shall go ahead. General Burnside is very popular with the army. Full confidence is reposed in him by the entire army. None doubt his capacity to lead. All seem willing & ready to follow him.

With love to you and love to all my dear ones at the Gothic House, I remain yours ever, — John S. Crocker

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Letter 4

Headquarters 93rd Regiment NYSV
“Morgan Rifles”
Camp near Belle Plains, Va.
December 1st 1862

My lovely Hattie,

Everything has been all serene in my tent today. David has been making himself useful in various ways. He commenced straightening out things this morning long before I was up. A very decided improvement is already manifest. The says Mrs. Crocker told him he must take good care of the Col. & he is going to do it. I have surrendered the tent to him. But he allows Johnny & myself to stay in it. I have no private servant in my tent since I discharged the nigger a month ago and David is perfectly disgusted with my style of housekeeping. He says Mrs. Crocker wouldn’t like it at all if she was to see how things have gone hilter skilter all to Devil with Colonel’s things. He has about convinced me that I have paid more attention to Uncle Sam’s business during the last two months that I have to my own. Well, I have concluded to let David have his own way about my own private affairs here and I’ll look out for Uncle Sam’s matters so far as they are entrusted to my care.

Johnny Wetsell takes hold in good spitit and assists. I believe he intends to make himself useful. He says he wants to stay with me. I have had him and Dave prepare a good bed in my tent where they both are comfortable and happy. I am going to keep Johnny Wetsell with me instead of letting him go to the company. He is a smart, active boy & I shall take good care of him. He will make himself useful.

This is a glorious night. The moon as she dances along the sky smiles upon us like a blushing bride. You never witnessed a more beautiful evening in the month of May at Cambridge than we have on the banks of the Rappahannock tonight. The two armies that are encamped in full view of each other are as quiet as sleeping virgins—scarcely a sound breaks upon the air. Never was a more quiet still night in your peaceful, quiet village of Cambridge or North White Creek than we are experiencing here tonight. But does not this lull, this deep silence, this seeming absence of all animated nature betoken a coming storm? Methinks it does and that soon—very soon—will be heard the thunderings and distant roar & wail of that storm which will be heard throughout our land & astonish even the Nations beyond the waters.

I have just heard that the people of White Creek have raised 19 men for Col. [James B] McKean’s Saratoga Regiment. They couldn’t send them to Lieut. Colonel McKean’s Regiment nor Col. Crocker’s Regiment? Oh no! They must raise them for Col. McKean’s 77th Saratoga. The people of White Creek may go to Hell with their volunteers (9 months) for what I care. And I will bid my dear goodnight & go to bed.

December 2nd, evening. I rode this morning with Quartermaster Sergeant Fuller, William’s brother-in-law. We went down to the river opposite Fredericksburg. We could see the Rebels in great numbers on the banks opposite & the high ground beyond. The pickets do not fire at each other so it is safe to go there today but may not be tomorrow. We were on urgent business connected with our regiment. We had a very delightful ride. The roads were excellent—dry & dusty, bright sun & warm balmy air. The troops will begin to move tomorrow.

Brother William arrived tonight and brought my overcoat and the carpet bag of articles you sent. Everything arrived in first best condition. It is really a splendid present & highly valued. I know my dear Hattie will feel well paid for her trouble when she learns that it has safely arrived & was much needed. The apples & celery—the first I have seen since I left Washington—surprised me because I had no idea of such choice production on our place. I suppose Phoebe is perfectly delighted to think she has succeeded in cultivating the celery plant where I couldn’t.

In yours of 23rd ult., you speak of the ground freezing when it is warm & pleasant here. We had cold & snow a month ago among the mountains but since we left the mountains, the weather has been all serene.

I am very sorry I cannot send you money yet. Our paymaster has not yet visited us. I think he will do so this week. My regiment has not been paid in five months and yet they must not complain. Kickin will send his money to his family as soon as he is paid. I will send you some money as soon as I get it. I will try and not let you get short again. Kiss dear little Willis & Irving for Pa many times. Simon Newcomb returned here from Washington tonight. He is in good health & spirits again. I have received another copy of the County Post of 7th November from Johnny. Rev’d Mt. Gordon is great on the write. It is up hill business to write up that regiment. “Bare ground ain’t the worst of sleddin” as our old friend Doct. Cook used to say. Mr. Gordan is most an excellent man. I am sorry he was so foolish as to leave his charge in Cambridge for a position of chaplain. A chaplain can do but very little in the army. I presume Mr. Gordon has learnt that by this time. Tonight we are to commence again to build bridges. A movement of the army will commence tomorrow. Good night.

December 3rd. My dear Hattie. You must not expect much of a letter this time. I am very, very busy. Today our army commenced changing position preparatory to crossing the river. Tonight four pontoon bridges will be built and tomorrow our troops will cross unless the Rebs prevent. The crossing is to be about 15 miles below here. We (Headquarters will not move yet probably) will remain here a few days I think. There will also a large force remain here to prevent the Rebs from crossing and getting our position here. I suppose the Rebs have 180,000 men here. We have more than that & ought to beat them although they have the choice position & the advantage of the river.

I have just received yours of the 27th & will reply to it in my next. The address is all serene now. Your letter and the contents of the carpet bag have cheeered my heart. I have worked hard today. I had only three hours to sleep last night & shall have no more tonight. I should like to visit you very much. It would give me unbounded pleasure to see you and the other dear ones at the Gothic House. I indulge in hopes of visiting you ere long. I have many friends at Cambridge that I should like to see but don’t expect to see much of them until this war is over, or I am out of the service and perhaps not much then for I don’t now intend to go to Cambridge to reside again. To tell the truth, I don’t feel that I have a residence in Cambridge now. I have a dear, dear, very dear family there. I shall think of them & live for them. God knows those dear ones cluster in my heart of hearts and shine like diamonds there.

Now Hattie. keep up good spirits. Be lively & cheerful & happy. When we get into winter quarters, I shall see you. You can bet your life in that. No man loves his wife better than your John S. Crocker does his.

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