Category Archives: Battle of 2nd Bull Run

1862: Charles E. Potter to Mary (Warren) Potter

I could not find an image of Charles but here is one of Dexter Berry, Co. I, 107th New York Infantry (Photo Sleuth)

The following letter was written by Charles E. Potter (1834-1904) who served in Co. H, 107th New York Infantry. Charles was married to Mary S. Warren (1834-1894) and residing in Hector, Schuyler county, New York, at the time of the 1860 US Census. He was employed as a carpenter. His son, Lyman, was two years old.

According to muster rolls, Charles enlisted on 29 July 1862 as a private; was promoted to corporal not long after, and was promoted to sergeant in March 1863. He was discharged from the service in mid-June 1865.

Charles’ letter refers to the Battle of 2nd Bull Run which was fought between 28 August and 30 August, 1862, in Prince William county, Virginia.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Fort Lyon (Washington D. C. Defenses]
August 28, 1862

My Dear Companion,

All is quiet in our camp as usual this morning. There was quite an excitement in camp last night. Some of the officers told us that the Rebs was coming and that we had got to fight. They done it to try the men, I expect. There was a bright light seen during the night. It is thought that it was burned by the rebels. I am going on guard at one o’clock today for the first time. We go on two hours and off four, for 24 hours. I had as soon be on guard as not.

I sent a letter to George Burritt this morning. I neglected to state the other time I wrote that there was a man arrested here Sunday on suspicion of intention of poisoning the well and was found with poison in his pockets. What will be done with him, I cannot tell. The wells and springs are guarded very close now.

I have not heard from Mother since I left. I spoke about sending me a box in my last letter. Mark Smith has gone home. He lives at Wayne. He is our Captain’s 1 waiter. He is coming back in 8 or 10 days. He said that he might perhaps go to Burdett before he came back. If so, he would fetch me some things. I would like to have some summer savory, a little dried fruit, a paper of salaretin, and what[ever] else you had a mind to send. If you send any fruit, send it before it is soft so that it will not rot or bruise. Get some soft pine shavings and pack them in. A dozen onions and some tomatoes would not come bad. Don’t send me any clothing yet.

I have not got my month’s pay yet. I don’t think that is paying in advance very much. You will get 10 dollars of it. You need not tell folks how much I send. I don’t blame boys for spending a considerable money. I presume I would do it if I was a single man. There is everything to tempt a fellow—peaches, watermelons, cakes, pies, and a hundred other things of like character.

Mary, I want you to write to me once a week anyhow and tell me all about matters and things that you think I would like to hear. I have not got but one from you yet. I guess I will bring my letter to a close. Tell Lyman to be a good boy, feed the chickens, eat bread, and not run away. This I send you is a sprig of holly I plucked from a bush in our camp. Goodbye Mary and Lyman. — C. E. Potter

August 29th. Half past six in the morning. Good morning Mary. I thought I would write a little to you this morning before I have to mount guard again. I have to go on at 7 and come off at 9 and then I am through till my turn comes again. I presume there is 75 thousand troops within a mile and a half of here. McClellan’s army has fell back to this vicinity and Pope’s army is retreating and the Rebels following. They want to draw the Rebels out of their hiding places. McClellan’s army is a going to march today, I expect, to join Pope and give the Rebels what they deserve.

I expected a letter from you last night certain but I was disappointed. I want you to write often. Has Al Coon paid you that $1.50 for that cradle scythe? Has Tom Van Dorn paid you yet? How does father pay up? Write me all these particulars and oblige your friend and companion, — Charles


1 The Captain of Co. H, 107th New York Infantry at the time was Erastus C. Clark. He was wounded in action at Antietam on 17 September 1862 and discharged for disability a couple months later.

1862: John W. Lewis to his Father

An unidentified 1st Lieutenant in Confederate Uniform (Rees, Richmond, LOC)

John W. Lewis was born October 8, 1837, in Virginia. Following graduation from Virginia Military Institute in 1859, he was hired as drill master and professor of mathematics at St. Johns’ College, Little Rock, Ark. When the school closed after the outbreak of war, Lewis returned to Virginia to enlist in the army.

On August 19, 1861, Lewis was commissioned as an officer in the 52nd Virginia Infantry. Promoted to 1st lieutenant on December 2, 1861, he was wounded at the Battle of Port Republic, Virginia, June 9, 1862. In October 1862, he was promoted to captain and ordered to report to Major General T. H. Holmes, commander of the Trans-Mississippi Department at Little Rock.

From the fall of 1862 until the end of the war, Lewis served as assistant adjutant general with various commanders in Arkansas, including Major General T. C. Hindman, Brigadier General D. M. Frost, Major General Sterling Price, and Major General J. B. Magruder. He was at the headquarters of the District of Arkansas in Camden when this letter was written. By the end of the war, he had been promoted to major.

Lewis remained in Arkansas following the end of the war, and on January 18, 1866, he married Laura Crease, one of seven daughters of John H. and Jane Crease of the Collegeville area near Little Rock and sister of Mrs. Cara Peyton. The couple had two daughters and was living in Miller County, where John kept a grocery store, at the time of his death in February 1882. He and Laura, who died in 1889, are buried at Mount Holly Cemetery in Little Rock.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp near Bunker Hill
October 25th 1862

Dear Father,

I have been expecting to get off every day for the last month or I would have written to you immediately after the Battle of Sharpsburg, but it seems I am doomed to be disappointed as my orders have never come. I was in all the last battles—at Manassas for five days, at Harpers Ferry, and at Sharpsburg. But thank God, I escaped without a scratch. We had some terrific fighting I think at this place where we fought. We fought and whipped at least four to one. I never saw such a slaughter. We did not stand and fire at all—advanced on them all the time and charged them three times. We also made a charge on them at Manassas and drove them from behind a railroad bank. From what I can hear we met with a reverse at Shiloh [Corinth] but gained a decided victory at Perryville, Kentucky. I hope this is about the winding up of the war. The Yankees seem slow to advance up this way.

We were down near Harpers Ferry all this week tearing up and destroying the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. We destroyed about twenty-five or thirty miles. They did not molest us in the least. I have no idea what will be the next move. It may be going on now but I don’t know anything of it. I heard today that Gen. Longstreet was moving through Winchester towards Front Royal.

I have just received a letter from Uncle Jim Crawford saying he had sent you my letter. I have thought it very strange that I did not hear from home. I have not heard a word from anyone of the family since I left Gordonsville. Tell the girls they must write to me. Someone told me that they saw Jasper in Staunton a short time since.

John Brown Baldwin (11 January 1820–30 September 1873), attorney, member of the Convention of 1861, member of the Confederate House of Representatives, and Speaker of the House of Delegates, was born in Augusta County, the eldest of three sons and third of six children of Briscoe Gerard Baldwin and Martha Steele Brown Baldwin. To the dismay of many old Democrats and advocates of secession, Governor John Letcher appointed Baldwin inspector general of volunteers. On 19 August 1861 Baldwin became colonel of the 52d Virginia Infantry. He served briefly in the mountains of western Virginia but suffered a physical breakdown and resigned on 1 May 1862. Thereafter he was colonel of the Augusta County militia, and although he was called into the field several times, he saw no further action. While still recuperating, Baldwin was elected to the Confederate House of Representatives on 6 November 1861. He defeated Letcher in May 1863 to win reelection and served in Congress for the duration of the war. 

Col. [John Brown] Baldwin wrote to me last month saying I have been promoted and assigned to duty on some General’s staff in Arkansas and would get my orders from the Secretary of War soon. I have been anxiously waiting for them. When they come, if at all, I will take time to pay you all a visit before I go to Arkansas. I sent my horse up to Uncle Linus’ and have been taking it afoot ever since.

I don’t even know where to direct my letter. First I heard you were living at Green Valley but I seen William Burger here last week and he told me you were not but thought you were at the Warm Springs. I hope you will make arrangements to get what salt you need while the works are open. If I could have gotten things home from Manassas & from Maryland, I could have gotten a great many things that would have been very useful.

Father, as horses are now very high—as is everything else—I think it advisable that you should sell any you may have to spare and pay all your debts. There is my horse, Red Wing, will bring $1000 or maybe $750, and there must be many things there of little value to you that would bring a good price. I should like to see you clear of debts. It is my opinion that when the war ends, the man who is out of debt is the best off. In case anything should happen to me, you will place all my land certificates in the hands of Mr. William Woodruff of Little Rock, Arkansas. And I have some two or three hundred dollars deposited with Uncle Ben [?], all of which with what I have elsewhere I want Jasper and the girls to have if anything should happen to me, which I hope and pray will not.

Give my best love to the girls. Tell Mat & Sallie I will soon want socks. With that exception, I am very well off for clothing. Tell them all to write to me. If you have any leather suitable for making boots, I wish you would save me enough to make me a pair when I get home. I did intend writing to you some time ago to send apples to Albert Fossett and get him to make me about five gallons of brandy but suppose it is now too late. Apples are selling here for 75 cents per dozen.

My love to Jasper when you write to him. Tell Kate to save and sell everything she can. Soap is commanding a fine price. My love to all. May God shield, protect, and bless you all is the prayer of your devoted son, — John W. Lewis

1862: Co. I, 11th Massachusetts Soldier to his Sister

The following letter was unsigned and the envelope has long been separated from the letter so it is not possible to say with certainty who wrote it based on the limited clues within it. The description of troop movements and his reference to his company as the “Bunker Hill” boys initially lead me to conclude that he was a member of the 11th Massachusetts Infantry, Co. I being known as the Bunker Hill Company. The letter was written on 5 September 1862, a few days after the Battle of 2nd Bull Run when the regiment was bivouacked at Fort Lyon, just south of Alexandria, Virginia. All of these clues led me to the 11th Massachusetts until I read an account of the battle by their captain who claimed they were paid off in late July 1862 and the author of this letter claims they were yet owed four months pay.

In the 2nd Battle of Bull Run, the 11th Massachusetts fought in Grover’s Brigade and were part of the force making a bayonet charge against the Confederate position along an unfinished railroad bed. They managed to break through the Confederate line at this point but were ultimately repulsed with heavy loses. The 11th Massachusetts suffered 40% casualties in less than 20 minutes.

Transcription

Camp near Alexandria
September 5, 1862

Dear Sister,

I now take my pen to write you a few lines to let you know that I am safe and well. I have received 2 letters from you but could not answer them before we left Harrison’s Landing the 15th of last month and have been on the march ever since. We have had another fight at Bull Run and I tell you, it was a hard one. Our company went into the fight with 28 men and had 13 killed and wounded so we have only got 15 men in the company now. You can see that the Bunker Hill boys are almost cleaned out.

We are camped in sight of Washington but I don’t know how long we shall stay here. We have just had orders to cook three days rations so I guess we shall start before long. I have not got my box yet and don’t know when I shall get it. We have not been paid off for four months and I don’t know when we shall.

Give my love to all the folks. Tell Hattie I got her letter and will answer it as soon as I get time. Tell her to be a good girl. I don’t know where we are going but I will write you all the news if I get a chance. Give my love to grandmother. I don’t know of any more to write now so I will bid you goodbye. From your brother with love

P. S. Tell father I have not forgotten him.

1862: Andrew Jefferson Sagar to Abram P. Pruyn

This interesting letter was written by Andrew Jefferson Sagar (1830-1900), a son of William C. Sagar, Jr. (1800-1877) and Dolly Wheeler (1803-1880) of Steuben county, New York, who moved with his family to Virginia in the 1850s to farm in Fairfax county. Andrew married Hannah Atta Bentley (1843-1913) on 7 February 1861.

Sagar wrote the letter to Abram P. Pruyn (1836-1918), the son of Henry Pruyn (1812-1893) and Ann Putnam (1816-1888) of Auriesville, Montgomery county, New York.

Andrew’s letter provides us with a civilian account of the Rebel army’s occupation of Fairfax county after the Second Battle of Bull Run in late August 1862. As natives of New York, and Unionists in Virginia, the Sagars were not anxious to suffer through another rebel occupation as they had following the First Battle of Bull Run when there were no less than three rebel encampments on his property [See newspaper clipping below from the New York Tribune of 20 July 1861.] Andrew informs us of the rebel army taking several Unionist citizens as prisoners.

Andrew wrote the letter from Steuben county where he and his wife and parents took refuge for some time among relatives. In June 1863, he was still there when he registered for the draft. Land records show that he purchased the property in Fairfax county from his parents in 1865.

Transcription

Addressed to A. P. Pruyn, Auriesville, Montgomery county, New York

Cohocton [Steuben county, New York]
November 30th 1862

Friend A. P. Pruyn,

You have been anxious undoubtedly to hear of our whereabouts & prospects since our reverse last August & I feel as though I had hardly done right in not writing to you sooner.

We are all well as usual now except bad color. We have had a pretty hard time of it but not as hard as many others. At the last Bull Run battle we packed a few things in an old spring wagon left by the rebel army, hitched on our team and started leaving all else behind for Washington but not till the fight had been going on all day up to four o’clock & the rebels were then in the woods near Germantown skirmishing with the 13th Massachusetts Regiment. We got as far as Mr. Demmings that night [and] next day went on to Washington & stayed there till the next Wednesday (just a week from the day we run) in hopes our folks would drive them back so that we could go home again but the prospects grew worse all the time so that we anticipated a raid into Maryland & the probably uprising of the sesesh in Baltimore & knowing our property was all gone, we concluded the sooner we were in the Free States the better so we started bag & baggage & were twelve days getting here. We got through all safe.

Mother’s health was very poor but she has recovered, but is not as tough as before the war. It nearly used her up. Father’s health is very good at present. It is hard to leave home & property all behind & run for life but I guess it was well we did for the rebels had possession of the [Fairfax] Court House that night & the next day captured Mr. Smith (of Flint Hill) & Mr. Thorn 1 & Mr. Brice. 2 They were in prison in Richmond the last I have heard from them. Mr. Thorn was caught at Mr. Terry’s, Terry getting under the bed & they supposing Thorn to be the man of the house, took him & did not search the house & Terry in his wife’s clothes escaped a few minutes after to the woods & got to Washington.

The most of our Yankee neighbors escaped, some with their families & some leaving their families behind. We left full forty tons of as good hay as ever was put in a barn, about nine acres of corn and potatoes on the ground, 4 acres of buckwheat, pork & bacon to last a year left by the army last spring, one barrel of flour not opened, 120 lbs. candles & soap enough for our use a year or more, and other necessaries in proportion & had to leave them all. We brot away the best of our bedding & our newest clothing. In fact, we took all we could carry and left all the rest—nearly all tools, &c. &c.—so you can imagine what a condition we are in to winter.

Our house was used as a hospital the last have heard from there & our out buildings very much injured & may be destroyed before this time.

I think of nothing more of importance to write at present. Please write to me soon and direct to Cohocton, Steuben county, New York.

Our respects to your family & all enquirers except Democrats. Yours truly, — A. J. Lagar

In the letter, it is stated that Rebels were in the woods near Germantown which is located at the lower right on the map.

1 Possibly Talmadge Thorne.

2 Matthew Bryce (1807-1863) was Unionist from Oakton, Fairfax county, Virginia. He died a prisoner of war in Richmond, Virginia, on 17 March 1863 at the age of 55.

New York Tribune, 20 July 1861

The Civil War Letters of Stephen Selby Fish, 17th New York Infantry

Stephen “Selby” Fish (ca. 1839-1874) enlisted in the 17th New York Infantry in May 1861. Not long after his arrival in Virginia, Selby contracted typhoid and was hospitalized for two months. The disease left him permanently weakened and he was again hospitalized in May 1862 with an unspecified illness. By that summer, Selby had recovered sufficiently for active service, and under McClellan, took part in the Peninsular Campaign (the siege at Yorktown and the Seven Days Battles) and in Pope’s campaign in northern Virginia (including 2nd Bull Run). In 1863, Selby returned to Williamson to study law. He was admitted to the bar one year later and, in November of 1864, moved to New Orleans where his uncle Wright R. Fish was a probate court clerk. Wright Fish was a member of the Southern Rights Secret Association, a secessionist group active during the war. While attending a radical Republican convention in 1866, Selby was shot twice and severely beaten when a violent mob of citizens and police disrupted the meeting. He recovered and set up the Fish & Dibble law firm (1866-1867) and in August 1867, was appointed attorney by Philip Sheridan. Selby married Josephine (Josie) of Marion, New York, in 1870. He died in early 1874, and was buried in Williamson in the spring of 1874.

Selby wrote all of these these letters to Eliza C. Boyce (1841-1915), the daughter of Peter Henry Boyce (1812-1890) and Eunice Davis (1813-1860). Eliza was born in Marion, Wayne county, New York. Her siblings included Armina (1834-1915), Sarah Jane (1837-1928), Emily (1842-1898), Carolina (1845-1925) and Clinton (1850-1900). Eliza married George Franklin Harvey (1838-1866) in Cook county, Illinois, on 15 November 1863. The couple had one child named Maud Harvey (1864-1926) before George died in 1866, leaving Eliza to raise her only child.

We owe a debt of gratitude to Eliza for preserving Selby’s letters. Some of the letters Selby wrote to his family are preserved at the University of Michigan (see below), but the following letters to Eliza (or “Lide” as he sometimes called her) are in a private collection and accompanied by a handwritten note that reads, “I wonder if he kept my letters, packed away somewhere. I don’t think his heart was involved; he never did come to Chicago to see me. He promptly and I suppose properly cancelled our correspondence when he learned of my betrothal. Later on he married a girl from his home town by the name of Josie Eddy, then went to New Orleans to work on a newspaper. He was the innocent bystander who was shot in a street riot. Poor dear, Stephen Selby Fish.”

Selby Fish’s Obit in NEW ORLEANS REPUBLICAN

More on the Fish Family Letters

The University of Michigan houses a large collection of the Fish Family Papers, 1847-1933. The Fish family letters subseries (336 items) largely document the lives of Dan, Carlton, Selby, and Julia Fish. Throughout, the siblings discuss their deep animosity toward their father. The first four letters (1847-1850) are between Wright R. Fish, in Poughkeepsie, New York, and his father Isaac Fish, in Williamson, New York. Letters written during the Civil War-era include 18 letters from Carlton, 27 from Selby, 14 from Daniel, 9 from Judson Rice (all addressed to Julia), and 49 letters from Julia to Carlton (with 3 additional, post-war letters). These include descriptions of the Peninsular Campaign (Yorktown and the Seven Days Battles, particularly Gaines’s Mills) by Selby, and Judson Rice’s account of 1st Winchester. Both Selby and Carlton commented on their regiment’s occasional ill discipline and low morale. Selby described his experience in army hospitals and sometimes reflected on death, war, and the hard life of a soldier. 

Dan’s letters, written mostly from California and Oregon, provide commentary on the life of an itinerant (and sometimes vagrant) traveler in the gold fields of the Far West. Julia described local events and family news, frequently discussing family strife. She occasionally discussed the politics and society in Williamson. In a particularly notable incident on July 17, 1864, Julia consulted a psychic to diagnose Carlton’s mysterious illness, which appeared during the siege of Yorktown in May 1862. Many Civil War era letters contain illustrated letterheads.

17th New York Infantry, Library of Congress

To read other letters by members of the 17th New York Infantry transcribed and published on Spared & Shared, see:

William Bragg, Co. A, 17th New York (1 Letter)
George W. Westfall, Co. I, 17th New York (1 Letter)
Manser M. Dunbar, Co. K, 17th New York (1 Letter)

Letter 1

Marion, New York 1
11th September 1860

Friend Eliza,

While the elements seem combined in a scheme to give poor weak man a particular soaking, I sit in my room perfectly quiet with “none to molest.” And by the way, the rain which is now pouring down reminds me of my journey from Palmyra when a “fish out of water” was not an appropriate title for me; but in the mean time, I had the pleasure of a fast ride.

I was at William’s last evening. They had just received a letter from you. I learn that you arrived in Chicago safe though at a later hour than you expected. Had a pleasant ride, I suppose. You received a scolding; did it make a good impression? How do you find the flock of little ones who had come together without a shepherd? Has Chicago remained unchanged during your absence? If not, what improvements have been made in the social, moral, or political aspect of affairs?

“Uncle Stephen” was the Hon. Stephen A. Douglas of Illinois who ran for President in 1860.

How is Uncle Stephen 2 prospering in your community? 

Was at Mr. Phelps Sunday evening. Had a good visit with Aunt Minerva and some sport withal, which perhaps it will not be worth while to mention. Dela & Herbert have not yet returned from their western tour. Hope they will arrive in better spirits (not champagne) than they departed. I spent Saturday last at home with Julia & Newton and pleasantly the hours glide away at home; though perhaps not as profitably as it is but little that I study when there. Julia has received a likeness of you & is much pleased therewith. Marion is rolling on about as usual, with occasionally a little excitement such as is induced by a Political Caucus or display of smoke lamps.

We had a right old-fashioned sermon last Sabbath by a Mr. Eldridge. His theme was founded upon the whole bible with no text except nominally. Yet he advanced some important truths and in a very amusing manner which might have done good if they had been put in a shape to be remembered.

The school has had quite an addition to its number of pupils since you left, among which are those Southern gentlemen that arrived in town the night before you left. They attended an Antislavery Lecture given in the place Sunday. How such things will take with them, I don’t know. One thing is certain—that they’ll not stay in Marion without hearing some opinions advanced which they are not accustomed to in Old Alabama.

There is to be a concert in the Hall this evening. The hero of the occasion is James G[owdy] Clark—“the celebrated balladist [balladeer]” 3 [and] one of Aunt Minerva’s favorites. Think I shall not go up as brother Greek and I have had a falling out this afternoon and it will need all my time this evening to get reconciled again.

The bell is ringing for the students’ prayer meeting and I must away. I shall expect to hear from you by return mail according to contract. Respectfully your friend, — S. S. Fish

[to] Miss E. C. Boyce, Chicago, Illinois

1 Selby wrote several letters from Marion, New York, where he was undoubtedly attending the Marion Collegiate Institute. The school obtained its charter in 1855 and started with 90 students in an upper room over a store. In 1856, a three-story brick building was completed and the expense largely borne by the Baptist Church. It remained in operation for 49 years until taken over as a Union Free School in 1904.

2 This is a reference to Stephen A. Douglas, a candidate for US President—nominee of the Northern Democrats.

3 James Gowdy Clark (1830-1897) was a composer of poems and music. “He is now largely forgotten, but when the war broke out, he was already well-known as a poet, singer, and songwriter, and he tried to enlist in a regiment from New York. Just as in later wars, where celebrities got put in mostly non-combat roles, the Army decided to send Clark out as a celebrity recruiter. Unfortunately, he got sick on the recruiting trip, acquiring a serious lung infection that required months of recuperation. At the recommendation of his doctor, he was released from the Army, ending his “military” career without his firing a shot. However, he later performed many concerts, with one-third of the gross gate money at each one being donated to the U.S. Sanitary Commission. That kept him fed, and the musical theaters happy, but the overall result was that the money flowed in to purchase supplies to aid wounded and sick soldiers. He continued to write songs and poems, ranging from heavily patriotic to extremely sentimental, matching the tastes of the time. The fact that he both composed and performed gained him additional notoriety. His poetry was compared by major journals to the quality of others such as John Greenleaf Whittier, but it was pointed out that Clark could also perform his work.”


Letter 2

Williamson, New York
September 22nd 1860

Dear Friend,

Your letter was duly received and perused with interest. You speak of my allusion to a contrast of which you have “no recollection of being a party to.” Now we sometimes use the expression “return mail” without meaning the first return. Of course, I shall not expect to receive an answer to a letter by mail in the same direction. Such an idea would be in opposition to all mathematical calculation and philosophical reasoning. If by the statement I am to understand that you do not desire a correspondence, I certainly would have no inclination to urge it; perchance my “imagination” to the contrary notwithstanding.

Armina is indeed on earth, or was yesterday, as you are aware by the reception of her letter, as she wrote you a week or more ago. Uncle Stephen 1 you say is nowhere. No if you could have seen him at Clifton last week surrounded by twenty thousand (according to his own statement) eager listeners grasping each word as crystals from the pure fountain, perhaps you might change your opinion. What gave him such success there was the fact that he had succeeded in at last fingering his affectionate mother. He must be a very ungrateful son indeed who could not gain inspiration from such an occasion. Think of scores of carloads of Irishmen arriving from both Syracuse and Rochester to hear the illustrious man and then talk of his being “nowhere!!”

You say that Chicago is a good Republican city and in the next breath say that the morals of the place are at the lowest point. These statements are incompatible with each other. Which shall I credit? Pardon my dissension, for I cannot believe them both. If the latter is the true one, then if there be one sot found in the city, my advice to him would be to flee hence to be no more there.

Old Wayne witnessed the largest general assemblage of its sons and daughters ever known last Tuesday at Palmyra in the form of a Republican Mass Meeting. The number present was estimated to be not less than fifteen thousand coming from the various towns in processions formed of teams of from one to eight horses. With banners flying and Rails and Buttis [?] waving. Among the speakers was Senator Wade of Ohio—a noble specimen is he. In the evening following I had the honor to be one among seventeen hundred who promenaded the streets under the Wide Awake Banner. Such demonstrations would seem comparatively infantile to you who are accustomed to witness the immense gatherings in the large cities but we of the country seldom congregate in so large numbers.

Cousin Asa Wright Russell was buried yesterday. He died very suddenly Tuesday evening calmly and without a struggle. We believe he died as he has lived—a sincere and devoted Christian. Eliza, there is a pleasing thought connected with the death of the righteous. Goodbye. Your friend, — Selby

1 This is a reference to Stephen A. Douglas who spoke from his barouche for two hours in Clifton Springs, New York, on 15 September 1860. An estimated 15,000 to 20,000 people were said to be present.


Letter 3

Marion [New York]
October 11th 1860

Eliza,

We have had two days of fine, warm weather in succession. What a luxury. How I prize it. It is something we have scarcely been blessed with heretofore for weeks. Well, I suppose if we did not have some of the bitter, we could not duly prize the sweet. Yet it is not always convenient to be thankful for adversities even in so small an affair as the state of the weather.

Marion people are all prospering well; feeling well, or at least I am. How my own family are doing I cannot say as I have not been home in about three weeks. Yet I have had communication. Newton has met with an accident by way of a fall in the barn which will probably disable him for a few weeks. I trust not worse. I shall go home tomorrow night to see “the Old Folks at Home.” Think it is quite probable I shall run wild Saturday to see if there is any virtue in a variety of exercise.

Your letter was duly received. I was sorry to read that you judged our correspondence had become distasteful to me. Yet perhaps your inference drawn from my statement may be reasonable. I did not intend to be thus misunderstood. I did and do desire the correspondence. Had I not, I should not have requested it. I trust that I have too much sense of honor to make any such proposition for compliment’s sake, or to “urge” a request of a lady which I have reason to believe is against her wishers, for my own gratification. It was from fear of a violation of this last principle (though perhaps from  wrong interpretation of the statement that I referred to in my last letter) that I wrote as I did.

I have not the honor of an acquaintance with the gentleman of whom you speak as being very “clever” but the character you delineated, I am well acquainted with. I see such every day & a surplus of them too. For my part, I like to see people take a decided and high position either for good or bad and let the world know their whereabouts. I can enjoy either honey or vinegar but deliver me from a compound milk and water. I can sympathize with you in your deep distress & hope you may yet have an opportunity to see America’s noblest son. You reiterate the statement which you previously made and upon which I joined issue with you & challenge me to prove its contrary. Now I believe it is the custom in debate for the affirmative to not only make their statements but to give the onus probandi before they call for disproof; consequently I shall not as yet accept your offer.

You saw the celebrated Prince of Wales; probably you came to the conclusion as others have that he was but a man, although he is imprisoned by a band of noblemen. Would you not like to exchange positions with him? I think I should (not). Then indeed you have at last seen friend Stephen [A. Douglas]! Now do you think he is nowhere? S. is the theme by day and the song by night. Truly his name rings in public places.

Think I shall attend a large political gathering in my native town Saturday evening and witness the maneuvering of several companies united, of political [     ]; the people out that way are becoming Wide Awake and are holding discussions between men of different parties. Think Williamson will yet be the center of the World.

Write soon. Your friend, — S. S.


Letter 4

Marion, [New York]
Saturday, 3rd November 1860

Dear Friend,

I received your letter Wednesday but have been very much engaged since until now. I prize the leisure of Saturday when I do not feel impelled to labor with all my might for the recitation. I have been studying very had for some weeks past but have learned that I cannot and therefore shall not continue to overtax my powers of mind. How well I shall follow my determination, the future will determine. We frequently hear the enquiry, why hurry through the world. And sure enough, why the folly of crowding the whole earthly existence in a few short years. For my part, I believe it better to be content with Nature’s order of things. Yet notwithstanding my philosophy, when I reflect upon what is before me that I wish to attain, do not feel at rest without the greatest effort to obtain the long desires of my aspirations. I cannot conceive [   ] happiness multitudes of men can possess who blindly pass through the world, live, die, and are forgotten persons who never have an aspiring thought, and much less perform a noble deed. Yet a large portion of mankind never know that there is anything in this world worth investigation, who do not even know that they possess qualities superior to that of the brute creation, and I sometimes very much doubt whether they do, for certainly their actions indicate a great inferiority. How a being that has an intellect, stamped with image of Divinity, can sleep away life without a thought except to eat, drink, and be merry, is what augury has not taught me. But such is life and such all the creatures that we are to encounter through its course.

You speak highly of Williamson. I presume you don’t think that the most important place in the world, but we will show you next Tuesday [Election Day] what Williamson is. Then perhaps your disapprobation will be changed to exultation and praise. If credit can be given to your opinion of Chicago, then certainly it will not be advisable to move our great emporium any nearer your degenerated city unless it should be to cast reforming influence over your darkened minds.

Attended a Republican meeting in this place last evening. Was there three minutes in which time I got my head crammed with precious truths and vivid illustrations by the way of cats, chickens, bugs, garden plants, &c. &c. But you think they must have been interesting? But don’t judge such to be a specimen of one old story. You know we must have a variety to spice life, but sometimes we get too much spice for the proportion of nutriment in which case it is like the salt that hath lost its savor. You charge the men of esteeming the opposite sex in general knowledge. Now is not this the case? There are to be sure noble exceptions but as a general rule the ladies are not exceedingly well versed beyond light poetry and novel discipline. As a sample illustration, last Wednesday Mr. Spencer assigned to a portion of the school to write a composition upon a certain branch of political economy on account of which a prominent young lady of the school came to me with the doleful inquiry, “Where can I find the Constitution of the United States?” The supposition that the young lady devoid of common sense and mobility of character is more attractive in the estimation of the opposite sex is apparently too true. But Eliza, the young man of sense does not respect the flirt, however much he may appear to, and not infrequently when the vain and deceitful creature glories over her success, she finds to her sorrow that she herself is the deceived one. This appears evident from the fact that three ladies who attain noble positions are not hollow-hearted, self-conceited, nonsensical class of girls.

I was at home last Saturday and Sabbath. My good sister permitted me to read her letter from you. I think that when you and she become beacon lights for the rest of the world, and the rest of the world follow these lights, we shall have a glorious old time indeed. I have hastened to prepare this for this morning’s mail but I see that I am late. Yes, I do think you are becoming quite a politician though none too much so. But I as an aged and experienced man would counsel you to be mindful of how you commence your political career and how you cast your first vote. Such is the advice of—

Yours in friendship, — Selby


Letter 5

Williamson [New York]
December 23rd 1860

Eliza,

Sunday evening I improve the opportunity of writing to our absent friend. Your letter reached here about ten days ago but I was not favored with a perusal of its contents until after ten o’clock last evening as I have not been home for two weeks past. Saturday & Sabbath last I spent at Marion. People in that locality are preparing for a day of festivity to commence the 1861. Expect they will surpass anything on record. I have the honor of an appointment as committeeman. Don’t you envy me? Furthermore, I received an invitation to contribute anonymous letters or Valentines for the New Year’s Post Office. But such a delightful enterprise I resign to be carried on by those of a more fanciful and loving mind. The only thing with which Chicago is not blessed (or cursed) we have in abundance, so you must admit that we are ahead of you once in awhile. This one thing has been improved by all parties in the community where I am located.

The industrious and worldly are extending their piles of burning material or feeding the saw mills, but another portion of community have been improving the fine roads and light nights by pleasure rides, donation visits, and another institution—perhaps peculiar to the community where I stay—called surprise parties. 1 But lest the surprise should cause consternation and mortification to favor such a drive in with my presence, it confirmed my dislike for such performances. I am fond of society and am in favor of young people having social gatherings if they can be conducted so as to be of any benefit to the parties either socially or morally, yet I do not favor the idea of young men and women and even girls with short dresses assembling at from nine until ten o’clock and then running, chasing, grabbing, hugging, kissing until morning. Such I do not believe to be conducive either to morals or social qualities. I believe them to be one of the seven plagues of modern times.

Death and marriages alternate in quick succession in Old Wayne this season. Four happy pairs started on a wedding tour from Marion at one time a few days since. Miss Matilda Bitter is to be united with Mr. Rice Tuesday next. Dr. Fuller has taken to himself Miss Adaline Eldridge. Oh vanity of vanities, all is vanity saith the preacher.

You accuse me of extreme audacity in addressing Pip. I felt guilty at the time and I crave ten thousand pardons for applying to you such a homely, uncouth appellation. What that superior name shall be of which you speak, I know not. Perhaps I can think of some good one by the close of this scrip.

I admire your judgement of the right suffrage to be extended to women but do not agree that women would be less liable to be swayed by the “tin and a glass of lager” were the temptation placed before them. I believe that the woman first fell and consequently brought misery into the world. My experience and observation lead me to believe that the female exercises less power of resistance to temptation than the man and were they placed in the same situation, I believe would become more polluted than the stronger sex. You do not believe that the colored rare in its “purity is equal to the white.” Read the words, “All men are created free and equal.” Then decide whether you will agree with Thomas Jefferson or Jefferson Davis.

By your friend, — Selby

To the school marm.

1 In this letter and in several more to follow, Selby mentions the “surprise parties” which were popular among the young people at the time. These were simply a horde of uninvited guests that showed up at someone’s house, sometimes with food and drink and musical instruments, sometimes not. It’s clear that Selby did not think highly of this diversion, believing it an imposition on the host with an opportunity for embarrassment or mortification. It had similarities to a charivari which was also popular at the time though the uninvited guests did not generally remain long and limited their activities to banging pots and pans when a newly married couple attempted to spend their first night together.


Letter 6

Williamson [New York]
January 14th 1861

Friend Eliza,

I obtained your epistle from the Post Office Saturday night. Pardon my confession of merriment at your “speculation.” Strange it seems to write under date of ’61 yet the old year with all its pleasant associations are passed into oblivion. No! it is not so. The transactions of the past year are never to be effaced from the memory of Americans. The New Year is created amid scenes—social and political—which can never pass from the mind as long as the remembrance of the once glorious Republic of America shall be on record. You state that you were celebrating the movements of Colonel Anderson [at Fort Sumter]. Demonstrations of singular nature have been made throughout the East. It is a thing so unusual for an officer under the Executive Department of Government to do his duty that who dares to assume the position of a man is immediately extolled as a hero; and is saluted with demonstrations of honor never so enthusiastic. Our Chief Magistrate [James Buchanan], notwithstanding all his corruption and treason, says that if he survives until the 4th of March, he will ride to the Capitol with Old Abe even if he is to be assassinated for the act! A bold assertion for an unrighteous coward—a man who dares not use rightful powers to quell disturbances which he has control over and who asks Americans to pray for him in his weakness and yet shows no signs of retracing his wrong steps.

It is true that great events develop great characters. In my mind the noble men of the early history of our nation would on ordinary occasions, many of them. been considered not more than ordinary men. Patrick Henry was but a homespun, ignorant man till the great principles of Freedom permeated his whole being. Then he gave utterance to those words which have since been the motto of every man. I deem that we have men in the present age with greater talents and more capable of understanding any emergency than the “Immortal Washington,” and yet for such sentiments I should be considered as unworthy to enjoy the great blessing won by that worthy patriot. You do not believe that the words “All men” in the great Declaration of Human Rights included Africans. Now Eliza, what language can be more comprehensive than “All men?” Yet if more proof is necessary to convince you of his sincerity, listen further to the out-gushings of the same noble mind. “Indeed, I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that His justice cannot sleep forever.” If we allow that the colored man is an inferior being, and should be degraded, treated as a brute—in short, that slavery is right, then certainly its extension and predominance is just and normal. 

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But they will feel worse if the report be correct that he has ordered Sumter to be evacuated so that they will be less likely to see the Republican Party plunge the country into Civil War. Such a thing would be a sad disappointment to those whose chief ambition is to see a general smash up of that great political organization. Eliza, I have read in the language of Americans about “The first in war, the first in peace,” but I also read when as very small urchin (or brat) “that we should not believe all we hear or even read in books.” I would not pluck one flower from the wreath upon his brow yet because some extravagant eulogist has pronounced him the Demigod or Co. God of all creation, I am in no way bound to worship him, others may do so if they choose. you say had it not been for the efforts of Washington, Adams, and Jefferson would not have had the opportunity of founding the Republic. I say had it not been for the efforts of John Adams, Washington never would have been the leader of the Colonial forces. And had it not been for the great efforts put forth by those and other high minded statesmen, her never could have succeeded. Such thoughts as you express savors too much of the principle of honoring the doer of an act at the expense of him who plans it and promotes its execution.

Yours with a merry hearty, — Selby


Letter 7

Sodus [New York]
February 6th 1861

Eliza,

For two months past we of the “East” have been luxuriantly blessed with the only thing of which Chicago is minus. The condition of the elements at present remind me of the lines:

“All above was in a howl
All bellow a clatter
The earth was in a frying pan
Or some such hissing matter.”

Yes, Eliza, I know woman makes it her “particular promise to indulge in small talk;” perhaps this should be so to some extent, but I glory that some of the “fairer sex” can rise above the fashionable routine of versatile “accomplishment.” My school has been thinned today by preparations for another of those detestable parties. If such institutions sink to the lowest depth of hell (there they are sending multitudes of their victims), I could sing the funeral dirge with joy. When young people so much more highly prize the cultivation of their passions of a lower grade than the intellect that they will leave school to ride fifteen miles in a pelting storm to attend a miserable surprise party—to say the least it calls to mind the words, “what is man that thour art mindful of him.” If there was any advancement of social interests therein I could look upon such proceedings with some allowance; but that is beyond the picture. One of more experience than I hath said that “We must take this world as we find it.” But Eliza, would it be sufficient to be willing to leave it as as find it? That, I deem a serious question. Now don’t excuse me of being an “Old Deacon” for to be honest, I don’t feel very pleasantly just now.

Probably we should not agree as to the construction to be placed upon the Declaration of Human Rights if we should dispute till the last trumpet should sound (there is one expedient left—i.e., the right of disagreeing. But I will venture in a few words more. Our forefathers must have included the African in “All men” unless they considered him a brute. There can be no denying both of these positions without imputing hypocrisy to those time-honored veterans. The latter cannot be or Washington would never have emancipated his slaves or Adams would never fought with such desperate energy all attempts to fasten the fetters that bound the “brute.”

Henry, Pinckney, Hancock & others would not have given their curses against the system of oppression; Jefferson would not have left on record his solemn protest against the degradation of one portion of the human family. If Jefferson had believed in the system of human degradation, why did he present and manage through Congress a bill to consecrate forever that vast Northwest Territory to freedom which [are] now the states of Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, and Illinois. The founders of the Confederacy looked upon slavery as a then existing evil (those who gave it any degree of tolerance) and deemed it a matter of expediency to let it remain for the present. They hoped and expected that the “Inhuman Traffic” would soon be abandoned.

I cannot join you in your opinion that the time ever was when Washington might have worn the “Royal Crown.” He believed that a kingdom would be the strongest form of government but his opinions met with so great opposition that he did not urge them, and afterwards rejoiced that they were rejected. Washington nobly “fought our battles,” and nobly wielded the reins of state, yet he had far less to do with laying the foundation of the Republic than did Adams or Jefferson.

You think there is not a slaveholder who deems slavery morally wrong. I have conversed and corresponded with friends from and in the midst of slavery. Their report is that the majority of the slaveowners hold that it is a moral evil and founded in wrong, yet they deem it would be a greater evil to leave the ignorant race to their own support, or to wrest from the owner his property.

Eliza, would you consider that person a more desirable companion who has attempted to cultivate social qualities at the expense and in the absence of intellectual attainments, that he who cultivates the intellect at the expense of the social faculties? I believe that instances are numerous where the “intellect” and “heart”, or both, have received a great degree of cultivation. I contend that the former is the servant of the latter. That in proportion as man’s mental powers are developed in such ratio are his capacities for happiness or misery increased. I think the quotation I made from Pollok is the bright side of one extreme and the verses you quoted a beautiful illustration of the dark side of the other extreme. To find the golden mean should be the aim of all.

Eliza your fears as to my patience need no other comment than that it may be often troubled in the same way is the wish of your friend, — S


Letter 8

Williamson [New York]
March 16, 1861

Esteemed Friend,

Well, Eliza, those dark visions have all passed away now for “small talk.” The clouds have fled before the gentle rays of the sun. The wind has passed its searching gale, the drifting snow storm has changed to fine weather, [and] there is not a wrinkle on my brow. I regret that I expressed so much ill humor in my last letter. I strive to so govern my temper as to avoid all appearance of ill nature, whatever be the surrounding circumstances, for ill will furnishes no good entertainment at any time in any place. But I frequently find times when I have not the power to resist passions force; perhaps forbearance is not a virtue in all cases. If it is, then virtue and I are often aliens.

If I said aught in condemnation of social parties, it was in the heat of passion. Let the Graces witness that there is naught in my heart averse to social enjoyment, if it does not trample upon the rights of other accomplishments. Such things as I referred to near no resemblance to social parties. “Let my right hand forget its cunning” if in anyway I bar the social pass. Cornwell’s language about King James the First, when charged with wanting allegiance, has a significant application here. It is thus: “No, I am true in my allegiance to the king. Bring me a king and I am ready to bow down to him and to do reverence, to obey his authority. But this thing that you have here is a heartless effeminate boy. There is nothing kingly in his person or his life. And by virtue of all my regard for true kingly dignity, I am bound to see that this thing be displaced from the seat of a king.”

I received your letter a week ago on which account I fear a scolding. But my stars inform me that you are not the only one that has reason to complain. I have not thus delayed writing in many months before; though frequently I have not received letters until several days after they were due or been able to mail mine as soon as written on account of absence from home. I deem myself excusable this time as this has been an uncommonly busy week with me. The secret of the affair is this—I have a new sister. I have lately read “The Lady of the Lake”—one of Scott’s legendary poems and a spirited thing it is too. Allen and I are to play a part of this, including the combat between Fitz James and Rhoderic Dhn [?] at an exhibition of his school a few days hence.

Yes, Eliza, the Democrats do feel chagrined because Lincoln did not give their clansmen a chance to make an example of their barbarity upon him at Baltimore. Upon such a premises what have those who claimed to be a party of “Freedom: been contending for? Why have they, by “staying the tyrannical hand of oppression” brought confusion and turmoil upon this government.” The concession that I understand you to make is the very starting point of the difficulties, which have now culminated into almost an overthrow of the principles of “American Liberty.” Be not offended if I charge you with an ironical flourish as I have placed an estimate upon your wisdom and good sense to credit that you could give such advice in sincerity. As to the pleasure of the revels attending those advertised surprise parties, I consider that should be of a secondary consideration.

“Not enjoyment, and not sorrow

Is our destined end or way;

But to act that each tomorrow

Find further than today.”

If I consider it unpleasant to be “sent to Rome,” what must it be for the lady who is supposed to have a proper share of modesty. I consider it (in most cases) more distasteful than unpleasant, but to answer the question, I suppose that a lady had the same right (or should have) to refrain from participating in such scenes as a gentleman. I attend weekly a Lyceum in our village of which I am a member, where I have join in discussion, not only with those of my own age, but old and experienced men. Such exercise, although sometimes embarrassing, is interesting and profitable. In a former epistle you refer to the country school teacher as public property. All I tried to say as to that is the public sometimes fail to control their property…

— S


Letter 9

Marion [New York]
April 14th 1861

Dear Friend,

Upon my return from Rochester last evening I found your letter which had been forwarded to me from Williamson, and by the way my address for a few weeks will be to Marion, notwithstanding the day I write, for the morning’s mail.

Eliza, where there is honor attached to any pursuit or occupation persons may occupy one of two positions; either they may honor their position or their position may honor them. I hold that the greater share of nobility is attached to the former. Now with the opinion that I hold in regard to surprise parties, I cannot conceive it to be an enviable compliment to “be honored by receiving a surprise party” if as you assume there is no favorable difference between the institution in Chicago and the thing I described. You consider that certain amusements are looked upon with a greater degree of favor in the West than East. I think there is not as much difference as you suppose in the so called “beau monde.” Marion excepted—such amusements employ the principle attention, even in the East. I claim and want no such title as “model for morality and virtue;” neither do I deem that because I disapprove one set of evils that I must necessarily sustain another. There are many things fashionable, very popular, yet to my mind this is no valid reason for indulging them if they are not proper. Fashion, I admire. But it should have no force beyond conscientious limits. Though the best members of society or of the church approve an evil, that will be no shield for me when the final account is “posted and the balance struck.”  Character can only be estimated by the light of comparison, but who is to be the beay ideal of perfection? Can we find a human being worthy of our imitation in all respects? Or shall we not rather compare our lives with that of the Immaculate? You may think this a grave subject for your people to trouble their minds with, but Eliza, we should certainly refuse those enjoyments which have a known tendency to draw the mind from all association with religious subjects.

Grace Greenwood (1823-1904), a.k.a. Sarah J. Clarke; Joining the lecture circuits in the 1850s, she spoke on the need for peace, prison reform, and the abolition of capital punishment. During the Civil War she sold her writing to raise money for the U.S. Sanitary Commission and frequently lectured to patriotic organizations and troops, earning the title “Grace Greenwood the Patriot” from President Lincoln. 

I congratulate you upon hearing the lecture of the talented Grace Greenwood. I could have enjoyed the repast with a good relish, even though the speaker was out of her “peculiar sphere.” 

I wish you a right merry vacation and a pleasant trip to the Mississippi if such you have. People are very much excuted about the war programme at present and probably will be for some time. Yesterday’s reports about its progress we don’t want to believe. Each minute will seem as an hour until we get tomorrow’s papers. Now that the war has commenced, I hope that the Government will give it a vigorous prosecution nor cease till every traitor is among the things that were and the leading rebels are stretched till they are dead! dead! dead!

Then you have had more rain than your share of rain, have you? I think you have had part of ours and demand a speedy return. Longfellow’s poem of which you spoke I have not read. I am now much interested in Homer’s Illiad translated from the Greek, as the events are intimately connected with those. I have been reading in Virgil’s Latin Poem. Now Good Night. From your friend, — S. S.


Letter 10

Marion [New York]
May 1st 1861

Eliza,

With pleasure I received your epistle last evening. Marion had “heard of the war;” moreover we hear by via Rochester dailies twice each day. If you had placed more confidence in the “classical allusion” that “all things noble, intelligent, and intellectual spring from the oriental regions,” you would not have asked such a foolish question.

Illinois’ sons have done nibly but New York has done equally well. Although our noble brothers have not entered the St. Louis Arsenal and borne its treasures hence upon Freedom’s soil, yet they have powerfully and promptly entered the service of their country and in a manner that reflects honor upon the “Old Empire State.” Today’s paper gives an account of a committee from New York visiting the President and tendering him an addition of 75,000 men and 100,000,000 dollars to keep open the road from Pennsylvania to Washington through Baltimore. 

Week ago Sabbath, a sermon was preached in nearly all the churches in Old Wayne [County]. To arms! is the cry. The council fires have been lighted. The tomahawk has been dug up. Let us be cautious how we raise the death blade against our brother in civil war. But when we are compelled to do this, let it drink deep at life’s fountain and leave no vestige of rebellion—neither its first great cause. If our fair land must be washed in blood, give it a thorough purging. Dig out the deep worm and accursed stain of slavery. Let “Our country” emanate from the scenes of blood and carnage awaiting it purer, spotless. Let her stand emphatically before the glaring world what she has long professed to be—a “Land of the Free.”

I attended a war council in Williamson last evening. Several have been held in this place. A company of minute men being formed here in which your humble friend bears a part, though that does not exactly satisfy my desire to be “off” in the defense of right. Farnsworth, an intimate friend of mine, and I have been discussing the propriety of going to Rochester tomorrow and enlisting with a company of volunteers. This we have decided not to do at present—perhaps not at all. That will depend upon news from the seat of war. Julia says if I go, she will not remain behind.

I was much pleased with your turn of the subject of being honored and doubt not that you are sincere and right in your last decision without making any allowance for egotism. Eliza, you must stir up a more patriotic feeling than to restrain your friends from scenes of danger when our country and honor depends upon their speedy and vigorous action. I thank you for the honor attributed to me for my position in certain respects; I hope that my actions may ever merit such honor; that I may act conscientiously and rightfully, wavering not for public opinion or fashion. I learn from late accounts that the man you hold up as an example of patriotism has abandoned his position as a soldier and soon sails for Europe. 

Please write again soon you your friend, — S


Letter 11

Williamson [New York]
May 20th 1861

Dear Miss Lide,

Your advice I accept and will obey at present. Now that the fever has somewhat abated and there seems to be no urgent demand for soldiers, I have no inclination to take up with camp fare. At one time there seemed to be a demand for the service of all that would enlist under the glorious old banner of Liberty. Then I was ready to obey the call of a country that was well worth protecting; nor was I hasty in my determination for with that hardship, temptations, and danger of a soldier’s life in mind and duly considered, I determined that my life was no better to be sacrificed upon our country’s alter (if sacrifice must be made) than others. As long as there are more in the “Old Empire State” offering their service than can be provided for, you may rest assured that I shall not be among the “Soger boys.”

In Old Wayne [County], we are forming state militia companies in the different towns, in which we shall learn something of military life. The company in Williamson which I have joined meets tomorrow evening to perfect their organization. 

Well, Lide, if you are sincere that you could not consent to their exposure to danger, it is truly providential that “big brothers” are given to those of more generous emotions; but I am unwilling to believe that you are not deceived as to your own patriotic judgement. If, as you fear, the Union is to lose supporters on account of the affair at St. Louis. let them go! We don’t want any of that class of supporters and well would it have been for the Union if that class of Union men—or rather Union traitors—had all sunk down to the lowest depths of Davis’ Confederacy long ago.

Lide, how are those sixty urchins prospering [in your school]? You have written me nothing about them in a long time. Can they all run alone and talk a—b—c yet?

Your old friend Stephen [A. Douglas], I suppose, had a brilliant reception upon his return from Washington. Did you witness the scene? 1

Your melancholy weather has a parallel here for even now, past the middle of May, one hardly dares venture from the fireside without his great coat and mittens. Such weather furnishes a dark prospect for farmers. And yet there is an old saying, that “a bad beginning makes a good ending” which, if verified in this case, will render a most bountiful harvest.

[Sister] Julia requests me to ask if you received her last letter which she wrote some time since. I did survive “the infliction;” but if you pass a very mild judgement upon the epistle, it may be that it was written in the dark. Now good night. Yours with much respect. — Selby

1 Little could Selby have imagined that in less than two weeks Senator Stephen A. Douglas—the “Little Giant” of Illinois—would be dead. The senator died in his Chicago hotel room on 3 June 1861 after an exhausting effort to rally public support for the Union and to prevent the South from seceding. His speech before the Illinois legislature just before his death included the statement, “You all know that I am a very good partisan fighter in partisan times. And I trust you will find me equally a good patriot when the country is in danger.” 


Letter 12

Camp Mansfield
Washington
July 1st 1861

My friend Lide,

Little did I think a few weeks ago that I should be as negligent about writing to my friend as I have, but from either laziness or want of time, I have not written since I came here except one saucy letter to New York. I begin to know something of soldier’s life. While in New York, all was sunlight in comparison with the reality of soldiering. You say all those who wear uniforms in Chicago are petted, lionized, &c. They will find much of this to be delusion when they pass beyond the danger of desertion and many a smile upon the face of him who wished to obtain the command of the various bodies of soldiers will be changed to a repulsive frown; many a young man now bitterly curses the men whom they supposed to be “very clever” because they do not prove to be in reality what they took them to be.

Our lieutenant—although considered a brave and honorable man—was thought to be a surly and independent fellow, but he proves to be the most sympathetic officer of the company and the one who has the most regard for his men. Quite the reverse is true with many commanding officers. For my own part, I have nothing of which to complain for I expected “hard fare” and was prepared to meet it without complaint.

Our regiment left New York for Staton Island on the 14th of June. There we remained a week, then returned to the city, marched through Broadway and set out [by train] for Washington via Harrisburg  & Baltimore. Our journey was slow but we arrived at the Capitol after a ride of nearly two days, quite hungry and well prepared to enjoy a good night’s repose upon a board. I kept quite close watch of the scenery from the cars but I found nothing that would compare favorably with Western New York. Through Pennsylvania I saw no fine houses at all and but very few in Maryland. All through Maryland the railroad was lined with “picket guards” particularly near bridges, several of which were new, having been burned and rebuilt. In every village north of Baltimore there were more Federal flags flying than in any other state through which we passed and greater demonstrations of all kinds were made. In Baltimore, no banners were flying but the soldiers were treated more courteously than in any northern city or village.

In Washington, we spent one day. I visited the Capitol and spent several hours there. It is an immense structure and when finished will be a splendid-looking mansion on the outside as it is on the inside now. I looked with much interest upon the surroundings of the place where Senator Douglas has so long and so prominently acted—but acted for the last time. Well, Lize, I say that writing with a rubber blanket on my knees for a table and a stick of wood for a seat is not very pleasant, but it will do. Though when one has not a dozen about to converse with and try to hector and hinder in such a case as has been mine while writing this, if anybody can collect any thoughts worthy of notice, they have a better discipline than I.

Since I commenced, we have had a pelting thunder shower. The rain came down in torrents for about half an hour. Most of our tents were not prepared to resist such a messenger. In consequence, most of us have to bunk in wet places tonight. This will be remedied to some extent in the tent which I occupy as we have rubber blankets enough to cover the bottom. Some of the boys I pity.

All but one of the boys in our are wont to commune with the Great Father. We have a prayer circle each evening which tends in a great measure to render the camp more pleasant to me. I cannot help being influenced in some degree by the rough associations characteristic of such a place and keep as clear from them as I can conveniently. Yet it is only by trusting in the Ruler Supreme and by continual watching and prayer that I expect to quit the soldier’s life uncorrupted.

I hear from and write to [sister] Julia quite often though not half as frequently as I would like to. No one has greater claim upon me than she. I have received a letter from her and several others since my stay in Camp Mansfield whither we came week ago yesterday, or one day after our arrival in Washington. We are about three miles northwest from the city. There are encamped almost in the same field about a dozen regiments. On the Virginia side of the river are over sixty thousand U. S. soldiers, Scouting parties have frequent skirmishes. No heavy battle is anticipated for some days to come. I remain yours truly, — S. S. Fish

Capt. [Andrew] Willson, 1 [Seymour] Lansing’s 2 Reg. 17th New York Volunteers, Washington D. C. 3

1 Capt. Andrew Willson mustered in as Captain of Co. I, 17th New York Volunteers. He was mortally wounded in the 2nd Battle of Bull Run on 30 August 1862.

2 H. Seymour Lansing was the Colonel of the 17th New York Volunteers, sometimes called the Westchester Chasseurs.

3 The 17th New York Infantry was stationed at Camp Mansfield/ Woolsey, in the vicinity of Columbia College, on Meridian Hill, west of Fourteenth Street Road, D. C., on 23 June, 1861.


Letter 13

Camp Mansfield
Washington D. C.
July 7th 1861

Lide,

Having sought a pleasant spot in solitude beneath Nature’s tents, I will pen a few thoughts to those far away from those around whom my affections are intertwined, and whom there are many chances never to meet again on earth—it may be a reunion in a better land. My thoughts have been led to look upon death as a messenger near at hand, more during the last few hours than ever before. One of our company who less than two  days since was as healthy as any of us now lies a lifeless corpse. He was taken ill night before last and in twenty hours breathed his last. Many of us think he had the cholery [cholera] though the physician will not admit it. Thus in life we are in the midst of death. Two of our most robust boys have now fallen and we have not seen the battlefield, and what is worse, both of them had given no true attention to the “great future” and on their sick bed had no chance for repentence.

The climate here is not much warmer than in New York but our food is not as it should be. The water is very unhealthy. A large number of the 17th Regiment are daily on the sick list and the remainder are unfit for the rigid drill which is imposed upon them. We shall, I think, remove to Harpers Ferry in a few days. Then I hope we shall be situated in a more healthy position. On the 4th [of July]] we marched down to Washington and by the White House in front of which were stationed the President, his cabinet, and Gen. [Winfield] Scott. 1 I was so much interested in the President and the old general that I overlooked the rest entirely. Lincoln is much finer looking than I supposed him to be judging from reports and quite a small man too beside [Gen.] Scott. 2

Yesterday, I received a number of card photographs forwarded from New Yorkm one of which I enclose to you which is the best I can do at present. I have no citizen dress with me.

I have been quite unwell for a few days past but am better now. I have just received a letter from home—the first in several days. The cause I don’t know. I think I may with propriety ask you to forward your likeness to me. In doing so, you would please your true friend, — Selby

The scene outside the White House on 4 July 1861 when 23 New York Regiments passed by the President and his cabinet in the pavilion with the flag.

1 In the Lincoln Log, a Daily Chronology of the Life of Abraham Lincoln, it was recorded that for one hour and 40 minutes on 4 July 1861, from a pavilion in front of Executive Mansion, President Lincoln, with General Winfield Scott and cabinet, reviewed more than 20,000 men of the 23 New York regiments. He made brief remarks from the platform both before and after introducing Scott. Remarks at a Review of New York Regiments, 4 July 1861, CW, 4:441-42; National Republican (Washington, DC), 8 July 1861, 3:3-4; Extracts from Meigs Diary, John G. Nicolay Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

2 Gen. Winfield Scott stood at least six foot five inches tall and by 1861 weighed an estimated 300 pounds. President Lincoln stood about six foot four inches tall and weighed approximately 180 pounds.


Letter 14

This letter and a few that follow it were written from the “Georgetown Hospital” which was the Female Seminary in the rear of the Union Hotel in Georgetown. It was commandeered by the army as a Union Hospital shortly after the Battle of Bull Run. In his last letter from this hospital, Selby referred to it as “Union Hospital.”

Georgetown Hospital
August 8th 1861

My friend Lide,

Your letter of July 14th ws received in good season but I was so unwell at the time that I hardly cared enough about letters to read them and some I did not and forgot that I had them until a few days ago looking in my pockets. I have had the typhoid fever very severely. Am now recovering fast but can sit up only a little while at a time. I don’t think I would make a good heavy shadow yet. Knowing my health, you will certainly excuse a very poor hand writing. I have good treatment and the best of friends to care for me.

A boy from the regiment came over to see me a few days ago but it not being visiting day, he could not get in. He lent a five dollar gold piece for me to get extras with. I have just been eating a large piece of a noble watermelon which one of the boys of the room brought in. I have watermelon and peaches presented to me quite often. The managers are sending all the patients who are able to go home from here to Annapolis. I think they are cleaning out, expecting to have another battle near here soon and want room for the wounded. Oh, how I wish I was able to be in the regiment if they go to battle so as to perform my share in destroying the seceshers.

I think it is time that I should receive another letter from you, and perhaps there is one in the regiment. My letters all go there and as it is some ten or twelve miles away over in Virginia, I don’t have communications very often. On Friday next I expect to see the boy here who takes charge of my letters. It will be a pleasant meeting, I can assure you, if he does come. You need have no fears about the direction of letters if they are only directed to the regiment and company. — Selby

S. S. Fish, Co. I, Lansing’s Regiment No. 17 New York Volunteers, Washington D. C.


Letter 15

Georgetown Hospital
August 25, 1861

Must respected friend Lide,

I was favored a few minutes since with a package of letters and was much pleased to find among them one from my Chicago friend. The last received from you before this was written, I think, July 12th. Have you written since then, before now? If so the letter has “deserted.” Friday I received a letter from William and Armina, the latter of who I suppose is with you. I am sure you will have a joyful time. Am sorry to learn that William is not as well this summer as usual.

You ask my opinion about a certain man and of characters similar to his. My answer is that any man who has not had a course of military study that is too good to enlist as a private is not good enough for an officer. The man you speak of would be likely to be treated as many officers have and as many more will be if the solemn and earnest vows of some of their men are carried into effect—i.e., when the first opportunity presented itself upon the battlefield, they fall by the bullets of their own men. You may think this an unruly mode of court marshaling an officer but such instances are not unfrequent.

When I saw your letter, as I opened the package, I expected to see your “face,” but was disappointed. The last letter I wrote you I presume was a pretty rough concern (more so than usual). I don’t know what it contained and don’t know as I did at the time.

Yesterday I rode over to Washington [and] visited the Patent Office. Have been allowed to go into the streets several times. Think I shall soon be able to join the regiment again.

Lide, I am heartily glad that you are reforming and hope that you will continue the good work. This is the wish of your sincere friend, — Selby


Letter 16

General Hospital
Georgetown
September 3rd 1861

Dear Friend,

Two days since I received your letter in response to mine of an old date, which had been searching the world over and at last found the little village of Chicago. That is but one of many that have lost their proper course. Both that I have sent and that have been sent to me. A long time ago I wrote to our friend Delia P. S. As I wrote without an invitation, I have thought my letter might have been unfavorably received. But am more inclined to think it “deserted.” Aunt Manerva requested by Mrs. Williams that I should write to them. Such requests reach me quite often in the same way; they would please me better if they were made by the pen of the individual making them. 

My health at present is good with the exception that I have not yet recovered my usual strength and flesh. I now sit up half of nearly every night with a wounded friend and assist in his care during the day. I wish in some way to offset the excellent care bestowed upon me by boys who have left here before now.

Today I had sent in to me an excellent vegetable dinner which is the third presented to me in about a week, by ladies who often visit the hospitals. There are many very patriotic and generous people in Georgetown and many more who will rob the soldiers of all they can if they can only get them to deal with them, but dare not show their true colors.

Spent Saturday and Sabbath with the regiment about half a mile beyond Alexandria and eight or ten from here. Our Co. I with four others were to come to Alexandria to guard the city on Monday. From a high observatory not far from our regiment can be seen both rebel and federal forces in near proximity, each entrenching and erecting batteries with all possible speed. The late victories down the seacoast is giving a new impulse to the war feeling. There must be a great battle fought in Virginia soon though perhaps not under a month. It is reported this evening that Jeff Davis has given up the war to return to his long home.

My best wishes to Armina. When you write, tell her your envelope will enclose two sheets. Yours truly, — Selby

To Eliza.  Washington D. C., 17th Regt, N. Y. V., Co. I


Letter 17

General Hospital
Georgetown D. C.
September 10, 1861

Eliza,

It seems that another of my wandering letters after performing many evolutions and circumvolutions. Instances are common with my letters of the nature of the one to which you last responded. One reached its destination more than two months after date with the dead letter stamp upon it. Thus it is proven that there are Post Masters of the old administration style yet in charge of the mail. I hope that notwithstanding the pressure of public business at present that the appointments of new mail officers will soon be made wherever that have not been.

There is indeed a certain attraction about military life of which you speak, but laying aside reason and judging from the character of those who prefer it as a profession, I should say that that charm attracted those of weak intellectual and moral endowments. I have intercourse with many soldiers of the regular army and have met with none that I thought possessed a cultivated mind or the attributes of a Christian character. There undoubtedly are men of high position in the regular service, prompted in most cases by love of fame or the income of their position endowed with high intellectual attainments. I hold war as a necessary evil—an evil it itself, but necessary in some instances. Then let the noble freemen rush around the standard and step with the beat odf drums. Let the best blood of America flow when tyranny is about to upset its free institutions. 

You accuse me of assuming “a Brutus Argument.” I would that I were worthy to claim a Brutus honor by striking the would be monarch of the Cotton Kingdom a death blow.

To think that Julie suffers more on my account than I. If she does much. It is true for most of my pains were un[    ] by me, I being insensible during most of my sickness. I have taken but very little medicine since the fever left me and become rational.

As ever yours, — Selby

Direct to General Hospital, Georgetown D. C.


Letter 18

Union Hospital
Georgetown D. C.
October 30th 1861

My Friend Lide,

Some time since your letter reached me containing a promise of your likeness in a few days. I delayed writing for some time that I might acknowledge the receipt of the likeness—which by the way, I have not received. More recently I have been determined not to remain here longer than I was obliged to. Have been undecided whether I should return to my regiment to perform the active duties of a soldier or go to another hospital of more recent formation to attend to the wants of suffering soldiers. Today I learn that several from here, including myself, are detailed to go to the Circle Hospital, Washington It is called Circle, not from the form of the building, but on account of a circular park in front around which the Pennsylvania Avenue passes and in the center of which is the statue of Washington mounted, presenting the appearance in the distance of “a lion in the way.” 1

Eliza, I did not intend to intimate that the “Lecture on Theatrical Amusements” in any way appealed to your case. I very much approved of it and deemed it would be interesting to you. Your cry of “Moderation, moderation!!” will hardly be appropriate in this age of steam and lightning. Its exponents will be left in the background before they are aware of it. 

Every letter received from home brings news of some of my old associates and acquaintances leaving for the war. In a letter of yesterday, I learn that Mr. Ethel Allen 2 and cousin Whitney Russell were about to start for Washington. A younger brother is a member of a cavalry regiment out in Maryland in which there is a large number from near our place.

Many of those who are coming now to “sustain the government” are destined to disappointment. They come forward with the idea that the war is to close in a few months and they are to have the benefit of travel and a nice bounty and go home with the honors of war indelibly attached to their immortal name. But they will learn to their sorrow that the war will last much longer than they wish to be soldiers. The government has been at work now over six months and what great advance has yet been made? Why, the great Army of the Potomac has succeeded in forcing the rebels five or six miles from the river and have been badly whipped several times at that.

Excuse my hasty and sickly letter. Yours as ever, — Selby

An 1866 view of George Washington’s equestrian statue in D. C.

1 The equestrian statue of George Washington was erected on Washington Circle in 1860. Washington Circle is at the intersection of 23rd Street, K Street, New Hampshire Avenue, and Pennsylvania Avenue, Northwest.

2 Ethel Maynard Allen (1840-1911) entered the service as 2nd Lt. of Co. C, 98th New York Infantry. He left the service as the company’s captain.


Letter 19

Washington D. C.
November 4th 1861

Dear Friend Lide,

Yesterday your long looked for letter arrived. It came to hand as I was about starting to visit my brother Carlton. 1 I found the camp of the regiment to which he belongs after a pleasant walk of 3 miles. I waited very impatiently his return as I supposed from watering his horse when , as endurance was becoming almost vile, I saw him come from his tent while he had been writing while I was becoming almost angry at his long stay at the watering place. We had a hearty reunion I tell you after a separation of six months. His Co. I of the 6th U. S. Cavalry appear to be the finest body of regulars that I have met during my sojourn in the land of war. Many inquiries were made by members of the company about differewnt New York Regiments in which I am acquainted. I conversed with a number of young men from Wyoming county from whence is one company of our regiment. One had two brothers in the 17th.

You state that Julia seemed vexed at the departure of Carlton for the war and ask if it can be possible that she is deficient many of those generous emotions of which you say I insinuated you were deficient some time since. Now Eliza, I am not surprised at all that she is furthermore must acknowledge the frailty of all——(women).

It seems that you of the West and North have come to the conclusion that Fremont will not be removed. I have heard no such assertion made here, seen in any Washington papers, or even heard it spoken of as probable. Yet the excitement which the event has produced shows the absolute slavery of soldiers, even in high positions, simply because in time of a emergency, Fremont, instead of waiting for an order, relied upon a wiser judgement than that of his superiors in office and did what he believed to be his duty, has subjected himself to be reduced from his high position and disgraced for life. 2

Eliza, the more I see of the army, the greater is my disgust for it. No sensible person that has any emotions of equal liberty and that knows what he is subjecting himself to will join the army except under necessity and imperative duty.

A sad accident occurred in the City last night. The Infirmary Hospital at which were many soldiers burned. I believe no lives were lost in the event though a few deaths were occasioned by it. 3

Respectfully & in friendship, yours Selby

Circle Hospital, Washington D. C.

1 Carlton Brewster Fish (1844-1884) served in Co. I, 6th U. S. Cavalry. He enlisted as a private on 4 September 1861.

2 “On August 30, 1861, Frémont made a decision that would start a chain of events leading to his resigning from the military. On that day, Frémont made a proclamation to institute martial law and execute any Confederate guerrilla fighter captured behind Union lines. The proclamation also called for the confiscation of the property of Confederate sympathizers in Missouri and the freeing of all slaves owned by Confederate sympathizers in Missouri. President Lincoln did not fully agree with the proclamation and tried to gently change Frémont’s mind and avoid firing him from his post. Frémont did not easily back down from his position. Lincoln sent Postmaster General Montgomery Blair and Army Quartermaster General M.C. Meigs to St. Louis to check-up on Frémont and explain the president’s position. Blair and Meigs were not happy with their meeting with Frémont and they, along with others, began to question Frémont’s ability to command. In November of 1861, President Lincoln took Frémont off command of the Department of the West.” [Source: Georgia Historical Society]

3 “The Washington Infirmary had been opened on E Street, in Washington D.C. in 1843 as a teaching institution for the George Washington University Medical School and was the first general hospital in the capital.  When war broke out, the government reclaimed the building and used it as a military hospital.  In the early morning hours of November 4, 1861, fire was discovered and very quickly the entire building was in flames.  Around a hundred patients were hastily evacuated.  Remarkably, no serious injuries were reported.” [John Osborn, House Divided]


Letter 20

Selby’s 27 November 1861 Letter contains a first-hand observation of the Grand Review of the Army of the Potomac at Bailey’s Cross Roads on 20 November 1861. “A splendid appearance,” according to Selby.

Washington D. C.
Circle Hospital
November 27, 1861

My friend Lide,

Yours of the 14th came to hand in due time. You acknowledge the receipt of mine of the 4th. I wrote a few days before which if you have not received has “played the truant” upon the road as soldiers’ letters are so wont to do. 

I witnessed the “Grand Review” of soldiers in Virginia on Wednesday week, a long detailed account of which you have undoubtedly read before now. I can truthfully say that ninety regiments of infantry with due portions of cavalry and artillery, all well uniformed and under good discipline, present a splendid appearance. This was by no means the whole “Army of the Potomac” as there were many left on guard and picket duty besides many on the extreme advance and others too far away to present themselves on that noted occasion. If the main body of this enormous army should meet an equal number of the enemy, what must be the consequences? 1

The volunteers received so much praise that the Regulars in and about Washington began to “look to their laurels.” Accordingly there was a review of all their forces yesterday. They were determined to show themselves yet “superior to the lousy volunteers.” They may excel in military discipline but in those qualities which compose the true man, they are sadly deficient. Nothing could induce me to take a position in the Regular Army for if I wished to go to Hell, I should take Old Parson Brownlow’s view of the subject and want to go direct. He didn’t wish to go round through a Southern Confederacy to get there.

There is a little excitement in Washington at present. All are anxious to hear more reliable news from Pensacola and have strong hopes of another brilliant victory as at Port Royal. Eleven seceshers were brought into the City in bonds yesterday. The particulars of their capture have not yet [been] learned.

Well, Lide, you must be quite an epicure indeed if you “believe” that “innate virtue is very often nothing but a full stomach and male vice an empty one.” I congratulate you on your “promotion” to be presiding officer of your Good Templar Lodge and by the by, I intend to join a lodge soon which has a world wide reputation though perhaps not as public in its sessions as yours. 

Every your friend, — Selby

1 The Grand Review of the Army of the Potomac with President Lincoln in attendance was held at Bailey’s Cross Roads, Virginia, in eastern Fairfax county on 20 November 1861.


Letter 21

Washington D. C.
February 2nd 1862

My worthy friend,

Your kind letter of the 21st January was received with a great deal of pleasure last evening. Your likeness, which I had begun to think for some good reason you had concluded not to send, was truly acceptable. Your “smiling”—if it be a failing—is a very good one notwithstanding the “insinuation.” Eliza, your friend Miss Young is the lady who came with you to New York and of whom you have often before written, is she not? The Society I contemplated joining when I wrote you before, I did not join’ hence, am member of no “lodge.”

You wonder as the to the cost of a redeemed inebriate is very natural; yet I believe there is rejoicing in Heaven over one victory raised from the ditch. If good can thereby be accomplished, it is often wise to perform acts which under other circumstances would be most repugnant.

I took a step a few months since which had it not been from a sense of high duty would have been most distant from my inclinations. A few days since I was at a reception given by President Lincoln. Had the pleasure of taking my honored Uncle Abraham by the hand and addressing him. 1 Society I do not mingle with but very little. I am conscious that those who do and are so favorably received are not the gainers by so doing. Those ladies who are charmed by men because they wear a government suit or perchance a shoulder strap, and who attract such notice on the part of many soldiers in Washington, I conclude are deceiving many of the “too credulous.” I know too much about soldiers to suppose that good society would confide in a stranger soldier.

A highly interesting course of lectures are being given here by the most eminent men of the country. Most of them I attend. They have all thus far been upon National questions and frequently of the character which would not have been tolerated a year ago by a Washington audience—such is the general influence of the Northern element at present in the modern Babylon. 

Eliza, you undoubtedly remember our conversation about theatres and the character of actors and actresses. You claimed that there were those of the first class of society. I disagreed with you. I have since attended the most popular of theatres and operas in New York and Washington and have failed in my observation and conversation to find one person in such association I deemed worthy of the confidence of a virtuous person. You, I presume, will differ with me in opinion but as on a former occasion, we will agree to disagree

Yes, Eliza, I do “imagine that the recent change in the Cabinet will have a good effect,” but I do not deem that the President by such act has removed one foot from the Republican platform. 2 Democrats as well as Republicans are carrying on the war for the government. Mr. Stanton is as sound on this question as any Republican. This change for the better towards the close of Buchanan’s Administration was owing in a great measure to his being a member of the Cabinet in the decline of the old fogey.

I am very much obliged to you for the compliment you give me for principles of integrity and religion. I hope I may prove myself worthy of such [___ment] but the lion often appeareth in the way.

You remarked after I sent you my card photograph that you would have preferred an Ambrotype. Please consign that one you have to the flames and I will forward the other tomorrow. I hope it may be received kindly and may it recall associations pleasant to me at least—associations which I hope may yet be renewed. Hoping that your pen will become brighter by more frequent use, I bid you adieu with the good wishes of your sincere friend, — Selby

1 Selby does not provide us with the date of his “Lincoln handshake” but my hunch is that it was during the Grand Reception at the White House on 1 January 1862, although there would have been later opportunities such as the public levees held on January 7th, the 14th, 21st, or the 28th. At the time, Lincoln was hold levees on every Tuesday evening.

2 In January 1862, President Lincoln replaced the ineffectual Secretary of War Simon Cameron with Edwin Stanton, a lawyer who opposed Lincoln’s election, but once in office, fully supported the administration in its quest to reunite the country. The men were completely different in their demeanor and characteristics but made a good team.


Letter 22

Washington D. C.
February 27, 1862

My friend Lide,

Yours of February 16th was received yesterday reciting the rejoicing in Chicago over the recent victories won by the brave “Western Soldiers.” I am sorry to acknowledge the correctness of your statement that the western soldiers were taking the laurels from the eastern. Yet if I mistake not, one of the most prominent actors of the late drama of which you boast is a bold and Christian man from the East.

Rumor this evening states that Gen. Banks’ Division on the Upper Potomac have been repulsed in an attempt to advance. This has not yet been confirmed but there is a great movement in the direction of Harpers Ferry. The railroads are under military direction. Many regiments have left here this p.m.  Others are to start in the morning. If something has happened to awaken the energy of the long dormant Army of the Potomac while in other portions so much life and activity prevails, it may be a happy event. 1

You seem to think that my Ambrotype is of a deceitful character probably possessing “secession proclivities.” If you persist in such opinion, I shall call a “court of inquiry” and have the matter laid before the “investigating committee” of Congress. I am confident that they will exonerate me as well, at least, as you have done in your own case.

Eliza, after all our “talk” on theatres there is that I can discover no difference in our opinions. I have attended them quite frequently since I came from home. There may be performances entirely of a moral character, but they are more frequently (and almost always) intermingled with scenes not appropriately brought before a moral audience or performed by moral persons. Such prevails usually where the principal part of the exercise is of an entertaining and instructive character. This has been my experience at least. I cannot condemn them altogether, but as for myself will treat them as I strive to all other things in keeping with utility but which are dictated to fill up the “bill of fare” viz; be moderate and if appetite or desire perchance is likely to overcome reason, abstain altogether.

Lide, do you indeed think that friendship and society are to be sacrificed at that period when single blessedness is reckoned among the things that were. I am inclined to hold the opinion of the French at a certain period that the lady does not rise to her social zenith until that event. I am now reading Tucker’s Life of Wellesly” or the “Duke of Wellington” and can but contrast the activity and indomitable courage of the British soldiery with the imbecility of our own.

Accept the good wishes of your friend, — Selby

1 In late February 1862, Gen. Banks’ Division crossed the river at Harpers Ferry to provide protection to B&O Railroad work crews who were making repairs to the road in northwestern Virginia that had been destroyed by retreating Confederates.


Letter 23

Camp of 17th New York near Chickahominy, Va.
June 8th 1862

My dear friend Lide,

A long time ago before I left Washington, I received the last letter from you that I gave an immediate response. Since then as far as my knowledge extends, our correspondence has been at an end. I had watched the mail and waited long in vain, then came to the conclusion that you had unceremoniously broken the correspondence. But in a late letter from [my sister] Julia, she stated that you wrote of not having heard from me in a long time, from which I inferred wither you had not received my last, or that you had written and I failed to get your letter.

I had endeavored to give a speedy reply to all my letters but after doing so awhile and waiting three or four weeks for return after letters were due from several correspondents, part of whom had urgently requested me to write them, I concluded to do as I was done by in that respect, thinking perhaps it would be the most acceptable course. This perhaps was not a good course to pursue but, Eliza, could you see with what anxiety the soldier watches the mail day after day for missives of friendship from respected ones far away, and the look of disappointment with which he turns away when he finds the welcome bag contains no message for him, you could not blame me for pursuing a course unjustifiable under other circumstances.

Today we have sent to New York as a trophy of this regiment a gold piece taken by them in the battle at Hanover Court House. This is a new 24-pound howitzer made of bell metal, and has often made music of different character from those unwelcome sounds when it was turned against our boys at Hanover.

We are all on the right of the Potomac Army and at present in a reserve corps. Gen. McClellan’s headquarters are within the lines of our corps. Professor Lowe’s balloons are in the immediate vicinity of our camp. On account of illness, I had been off duty for three weeks before the last three or four days. Am well at present and ready to help force a passage into the heart of rebeldom—a point about eight miles south of us.

We are encouraged by the news that reaches us in every day’s paper. The rebel state government of Arkansas has been blown up. We hope to hear in a few days of the clearing of the Mississippi. Beauregard’s are being riddled. The demonstration before Mobile indicates its speedy fall. The great commercial city of the South is controlled by the bald-headed Yankee [Benjamin Butler]. The alarmed people of Charleston hear the deadly roar of our Parrott guns. North Carolina is fast returning to her senses. Banks performed a most noble retreat before an irresistible force. Then the gallant Fremont rushes over the mountains for the destruction of Banks’ pursuers. In the Peninsula, we have frightened the enemy from Big Bethel, dug them out of Yorktown, fought them out of Williamsburg and West Point, whipped them on the Chickahominy and at Hanover, and will soon scatter them from their great central hole of treason. May this strife soon end.

— Selby


Letter 24

Harrison’s Landing
James River, Va.
July 7, 1862

My esteemed friend Lide,

Your very acceptable letter of June 18th came to hand this morning via Williamson. I thank you for the frankness expressed for the close of the epistle. My address has remained for the year past and probably will the remainder of my term of service (which by the way is little more than ten months yet). Letters directed as I will give below will at any time be forwarded to the various regiments. Hence you may have no doubt about directing your letters.

This has been an exceedingly warm day—in fact, so warm that is has been oppressive. I am in in fear of warm weather more than anything else. It has been the first cause of all my sickness thus far. My health is reasonably good at present and I pray that it may continue thus until the conflict shall end. I had an easy position in the hospital at Washington and was fearful of my health when I left, but I could not rest contented when my regiment went into active service to be left behind. “All is well that ends well.” I shall endeavor to make the above expression applicable to my own case. 

The army is now resting and recruiting after a long and desperate conflict. I say desperate not that our soldiers were driven to such straits, but that the fox contended with the enemy of madmen. This is probably owing in a great measure to the whiskey and powder they drank and with which the canteen of the prisoners taken were filled. The 17th [New York] was not in the principal battles recently but they several times ran the gauntlet of an overwhelming foe and nothing but a good fortune, good management, or rapid movements (or all combined) saved them from utter annihilation.

Last Thursday week before daybreak [24 June], we were up and ready to move under “light marching orders.” Our baggage was to be forwarded with the train. Hence, everything not absolutely necessary to the march was packed and left behind. It was afterward burned which leaves us quite destitute. 1 The first object of our movement was to prevent a movement from Jackson’s army up in our rear and we were expected to have a more severe time than those left behind. Two regiments of infantry (our and the 18th Massachusetts), three only squadrons of Stoneman’s cavalry, and two batteries under command of Gen. Stoneman were dispatched to the vicinity of Old Church for the above purpose. After maneuvering in this vicinity and scouting out the county several miles about, we were ordered to “double quick to the White House” [Landing], 20 miles distant, as the only means of saving ourselves form a large force already in our rear and keeping the stores at White House from rebel possession. We did arrive before the enemy did, yet not many hours before. I have seen it iterated in New York papers that no enemy appeared at that point but could they see the mark upon the gunboat Marblehead, 2 could they have heard the balls whiz about our heads or the shells fly all around us, or could they ever see our one wounded man and the bullet holes in the clothes of many more could then report bear witness to these facts, and that a small body of skirmishers went ashore and fought two advancing regiments. I think he would change his tune.

Three companies of the 17th [New York] were the last to steam down the Pamunky aboard the gunboat Marblehead. We completed the destruction of property at the White House. I then had the pleasure of seeing the residence of Col. Lee washed away beneath the devouring flames. This the place of Washington’s early married life is now owned by [  ] high as a rebel leader. yet the property has been carefully guarded until the last few days before its destruction and denied to the poor, the dying, sick and wounded soldier who lay in many instances one or two days exposed to all the inclemencies of the elements before he would be removed to a northern hospital. 

However great may be my confidence in our commanding general in other respects, I fear the spirits of many a departed soldier will cry out against him in this particular. I think he has done wrong in protecting the property of such men as would turn if they dared and murder the man who is protecting them.

We passed down the York & Chesapeake to Old Point, from thence up the James. On the sight of historic Jamestown, the ancient turf covered earth fort and the numerous barracks for Confederate soldiers adjoining is a strong blending of that patriotic with the treacherous and rebellious [   ] the fort Powhattan is another relic of history, but this too is disgraced by rebel works. 

The James is a magnificent stream and did it flow through a region of Northern enterprise and agriculture, would be renounced for its commercial capacities.

We landed at Harrison’s bar, then rejoined our division and brigade who had changed their position from the right seven miles nearly north from Richmond to one double that distance to the southeast from that place. The Corps of the Army to which we are attached is commanded by Gen. Porter. The division (Gen. Porter’s) is now commanded by Gen. Morell. Our brigade by Gen. Butterfield. By these statements you can tell when you read of our movements of of those connected with us in command.

Eliza, you think I should not have joined the army on account of not being accustomed to the hardships attendant upon a soldier’s life. This may be in a measure true, yet I am proud to own that from my earliest youth I have been accustomed to physical labor and as I had always been healthy, I knew not why I could not endure soldier’s life as well as a majority of those that enlisted. I cannot quite adopt the language of Byron:

“The Soldier braves death, for a fanciful wreat
In glory’s romantic career.”

Yet I was anxious to lay my offering upon my country’s alter. Our hopes of a speedy termination of the war (to judge from first impressions) may seem to be blighted, yet in truth there is more hope than before our recent reverses for the government is becoming alive to the fact that ours is no holiday affair, and that it will not do to treat our most deadly enemies with kindness and brotherly love.

As to the profit of holding the “seceded” states in the Union, my opinion is that could we constitutionally, peaceably, and without establishing a dangerous precedent, separate from them, it would be the best thing that could be done for us. But secession cannot be accomplished with either of these qualifications.

Your new constitution is rejected and I thank Heaven that it is so. 3 I was surprised that a convention of Illinois delegates would degrade themselves as to present such a document to the people of that state. I think you are rash, Eliza, in your wish as to the negro. It would be lamented that they are among us if they are not needed to cultivate Southern soil in a state of freedom, but they are here and are not responsible for their being here. Neither are they responsible for their present degraded state. I do not consider them as unequal nor do I think it right to mingle with them as we do with our race; yet they are human beings and it is our Christian duty to give them their rights as such.

Lide, write me about your school. I am interested in such matters—your feeling as you pursue the pleasant yet irksome task of youth training. Last winter I heard your oratorical hero. Also Gerrit Smith, Horace Greely, George B. Cheever, and many others. Also frequently witnessed the debates in Congress where eloquence and patriotism were marred by quarreling and [  ].

With sincere regards, — S. S. Fish, Co. I, 17th New York Vol., Washington D. C.

1 “White House Plantation rested on a bluff along the scenic outside bend of the Pamunkey River. White House had been the home of Martha Custis where George Washington courted her in 1758. The property then passed through Martha’s son to her grandson, George Washington Parke Custis, the father or Mary Anna Custis, who married Robert E. Lee. They moved to Arlington and Parke Custis passed the farm to Mary Lee’s son, W. H. F. “Rooney” Lee. When the war broke out Mary Lee had left Arlington and was living at White House when the Army of the Potomac advanced up the Virginia Peninsula. She was packing to move to the home of Edmund Ruffin in Marlboro, Hanover County, when the Union Army arrived. The original manor house where George courted Martha had burned and a second house was built on the original foundation. This was the house that stood on the grounds when the Union arrived in May 1862 and would become the major supply base for the Union thrust toward Richmond…The success of McClellan’s Peninsula Campaign rested on establishing his main supply base a White House Landing and making use of the York & Richmond Railroad in his advance to the outskirts of the Confederate capitol itself, Richmond…From May 10 until it was burned on June 25 [as mentioned by Selby in this letter], White House Landing served as the Army of the Potomac’s major supply base for the drive toward Richmond.” [See US Army/Transportation Corps]

2 On 29 June 1862, at daylight, Stuart’s Confederate force entered within sight of the White House and found that the Union soldiers had gone. About 1/4 mile away, the Confederates discovered the Union gunboat, USS Marblehead. Stuart ordered a 75-man detachment to attack the ship. When they were close to the ship, the ship opened fire on them. Some Federals disembarked and opened fire on the Confederates, also. Maj. John Pelham opened up with a couple of cannon shots. One of the shots exploded above the ship. The Marblehead began to gather steam and called in its skirmishers. While Pelham was continuing to fire at the ship, it withdrew downstream.

3 In the midst of the Civil War, Democrats in Illinois attempted to wrangle control back from the hands of the Republicans by proceeding with a proposal to revise the state’s constitution and codify certain provisions on banking, barring Blacks from entering the state, and gerrymandering districts that would make it more likely Democrats in less populated areas of the state would wield the power. It failed in a referendum in June 1862.

Mort Kunstler’s “The strangest Race” depicts Pelham’s battery racing the USS Marblehead downstream near White House Landing in order to fire at her as she tried to escape.

Letter 25

Harrison’s Landing, Va.
Camp 17th New York
August 6th 1862

Dear friend Lide,

Your letter bearing date July 20th reached me the 4th inst.  I know no reason why letters should be thus long on the road between Chicago and here. I get them in four or five days from home; but if not as soon as desired, they are welcome when they do arrive. I judge that you western people must be “too credulous.” It will be quite a number of day before you will have occasion to be jubilant over the downfall of Troy—I mean Richmond—but there is one thing that we may well rejoice over, i.e. the falling off of proslavery arrogancy and interest on the part of some of our important generals. This is very humiliating to many of them and their old ways hang on the last breath of a dying cat. But like the other, they must end in time. The decree has gone forth—the whole populace are expecting and demanding a change for the better.

That McClellan could not have gone into Richmond at the time of the late battle is not altogether certain. Yet had the left wing pressed forward into the City, it would have caused the total annihilation of the right wing of the army to which the 17th belong and to which Mac referred when he said, “What is worse than numerical loss—the loss is among my best troops.” We may have our own opinion about the ability to have taken the rebel den at the time the army first advanced even into its suburbs, but after we had given them a month’s time to fortify and render their force more than double our own, we could not without unwarrantable sacrifice have entered the town as conquerers.

After the six days battles, all had been quiet for nearly a month until about midnight the last day of July [when] we were aroused by the bombing of shells in our midst. The rebels had suddenly and simultaneously opened fire from three masked batteries on the opposite side of the [James] river. The scene was terrific. Shot and shell came much faster than once could count and with good aim, passing in some instances through the tops of tents, then onward to other camps before they found a resting place, or sent their broken fragments broadcast, seeking whom they might devour. It was a renewal of the siege of Yorktown. We were under this most unpleasant for for nearly an hour when our 32 lb. Parrott guns and one or two of the gunboats coming down from above told them in language too plain to be misunderstood to be off. They heeded. Next morning left no traces of them save their baggage and munitions thrown away in their preciptate flight.

The casualties of the engagement are trifling compared with the threatening aspect of the affair. Some half dozen were killed in our division. Here at the landing, one—Alex Chitry of Co. I, 17th.  We buried him with the ceremonies and honors of war. The low roll of the muffled drum and the mournful cadence contrasted strongly with the enlivening strains and quick step with which we went on parade and review but a few days before.

— Selby


Letter 26

Near Shepherdstown Ford, Maryland
September 23rd 1862

Dear friend Lide,

I will now resume the pleasant task of writing to a far off friend. If chance should allow us to remain in one position sufficiently long and I have an opportunity for mailing, you may be burdened with a few uninteresting lines form a worn out soldier. Since previously writing I have received two letters from you bearing dates August 17th and September 7th. You rightly judge when you think the battlefield not a good place for writing, and you favored me much by writing without waiting a reply.

Since the 14th August we have been continually on the march or battlefield—Sundays not excepted. In that time we had two days rest in Virginia opposite Washington but during that time I was occupied making out our muster rolls (a tedious job as our company is so much dilapidated at present). Hence, you will see that my opportunities for writing have been decidedly limited.

Your humble friend has passed the ordeal thus far without receiving a mark. Would that I could say the same of many a worthy friend who has fallen by my side within the past month. Farnworth, the young man that enlisted from Marion with me was left on the fatal Bull Run field. Our Captain was mortally wounded in the same desperate encounter. Several of our best men never left that field. Many are now writhing with pain in hospitals.

It is well that the new levies are fast moving to the seat of war for the old regiments, or a large portion of those from the Potomac Army are reduced to mere skeletons by the summer’s campaign on the Peninsula together with the long march up into western Virginia and the recent battles.

For example, our brigade—Butterfield’s—counted by the Commanding General one of the best in service, went on the Peninsula last March with five well organized and well disciplined regiments. Now there is not effective men in them all sufficient to form one maximum regiment. Our general and two colonels are away sick. One Colonel has been wounded and one killed so that we have but one Colonel (he commanding the brigade), one Lt.-Colonel, and one Major in the whole brigade. Three of the regiments being by captains. Of eight captains that went onto the field (Bull Run) with the 17th on the 30th of August, three are dead and two wounded. 1

My friend [Edward] Farnsworth 2 was a noble young man. Of poor parentage and a somewhat reckless family, he had aquired a liberal education and a young man with better principles of morality and religion is not in the circle of my acquaintance. Such things as these are uninteresting you will say and too solemn for social letters, but you will pardon me, Eliza, as war is almost the only theme of conversation or thought with us.

I like the appearance of the country and people in Maryland infinitely better than Virginia. The farms and production between this point and Washington show more northern enterprise and industry. Indeed, it seemed almost like going home after traveling six months over the worn out and fenceless farms and among the negro huts of Virginia, to march up through the well-cultivated fields and thrifty well-loaded orchards of Maryland. At short intervals on the roads that we have traveled through the state is covered with thriving villages as at the North, while in Virginia a haystack, one par post, and two mud holes compose a city.

If perchance you read eastern papers during the fore part of the Peninsula Campaign, you probably found some large ideas of the magnitude and splendor of such places of renown as Big Bethel. Little Bethel, Newport News, New Kent Court House, &c. as most people at the North did. Now to illustrate the height of the Virginia conception, I will describe a few of these places. Newport News had an old rickety wharf called a landing, a moss-covered hotel, two or three other buildings of the same character, a few negro huts, and barracks, storehouses, and docks built by the soldiers. Big Bethel contains one small church riddled by the CSA, one dwelling and a stream of water. Little Bethel has two or three little dwellings and a small stream of water. Jamestown has two farm houses, their attendant negro huts, the old fort, and a few CSA barracks. 

In western Virginia there is a little nearer approach to civilization, yet here is plainly visible the blighting influence of slavery.

In a Palmyra (Wayne county, New York) paper of late date, I read a letter from “Ned”—their “very interesting and instructive correspondent” at Harpers Ferry, being one of the “recruits” in the 111th New York Reg.  Poor boys they had to be “one whole night with no covering but the bright blue canopy of heaven.” Tis indeed hard for these “three hundred dollar” patriotic men to suffer during “one pleasant night” what the “hirelings” on the peninsula had endured without a murmur for six months during wet and dry, heat and cold. Again he “instructs” his readers by telling them they (his regiment) are joined to Col. ____’s corps, thus making a Colonel assume the command of a Major General. Also by telling them that the more wealthy class of secessionists about Harpers Ferry had gone over to rebeldom!!!

Again he tells his “instructed” readers that his regiment “have been on picket guard  every day since the day of their arrival.” People of Wayne may credit this from their “able Marion correspondent,” but I don’t think it. We know they wouldn’t be trusted in picket when the enemy were as close to them as at Harpers Ferry. And I reckon that by the time “Ned” has stood on an outpost 48 hours without shelter or fire and eaten his hard tacks and salt pork, he will learn the difference betweeb camp guard and picket duty. We have the “$200 patriots” among us and have some sport over their speculations which is about all the amusement we do have now.

You make make reference to our generals among others McClellan. Since the disaster in western Virginia, Pope has been relieved of command here, and McDowell under arrest, McClellan stock has been rising. He has successfully driven the rebels in strong force from Maryland and handled a fatigued and demoralized army in a most praiseworthy manner. Many of us may have censured Mac for his slowness heretofore and for some of his moves in eastern Virginia, but in coming from there under other commanders, we felt the loss of a true friend. After the retreat from Manassas and Centreville and Mac had been again appointed to command the armies of Virginia, there was the most unbounded enthusuasm manifested among his old soldiers as he rode through the remnants of their broken ranks.

Pardon the length of my letter. With good wishes I remain your sincere friend, — Selby

1 An after action report of the role the 17th New York Regiment played in the 2nd Battle of Bull Run was written by Major William T. C. Grower who commanded the regiment on 30 August 1862. As part of Brig. Gen. Dan Butterfield’s brigade of Fitz John Porter’s 5th Corps, the 17th New York was in the first wave of Porter’s attack on the Deep Cut. Grower was wounded during the engagement and wrote his report from a New York City hospital which read, in part: “Nothing could surpass the behavior of our officers and men, the latter steadily closing up the huge gaps made in the ranks by the terrific fire of the enemy. Placing myself at their head, I now gave the work, “Double-quick, charge,” and with a mad yell the gallant fellows rushed up the hill to what was almost certain death.” (see The 17th New York at Second Manassas)

2 Edward Farnsworth (1839-1862) was 20 years old when he enlisted on 24 May 1861 in Co. I, 17th New York Infantry to serve two years. He was promoted to corporal in August 1861 and to sergeant in late October 1861. He was mortally wounded in the 2nd Battle of Bull Run and died of a gunshot wound on 16 September 1862 in a Washington D. C. Hospital. Edward was the son of Samuel Farnsworth (1803-1874) and Betsey Helen Fisher (1815-1863)—both English emigrants who married in Oneida county, New York, and settled in Wayne county. Prior to his enlistment, Edward was a school teacher.


Letter 27

Camp 17th New York Antietam Ford
October 11th 1862

My dear friend,

Lide, it was with much please that I received a perused your letter of the 30th ult. yesterday. I hardly know whether you speak ironically of the “contrast between our letters” or to depreciate your judgement to the extent of believing you sincere. Eliza, I beg you have no more misgivings about my becoming tired of your letters. It is far otherwise and should I become disinclined to farther correspondence, I promise you to inform you honestly and frankly to that effect and trust that you would do the same.

You complain of the sameness of your letters owing to “humdrum life.” A monotony in your letters I have not noticed, think they were well spiced. And as to the lack of the wild, romantic and dangerous, I am thankful that it is so, for were they of that character, their pictures would contrast less with the realties that we here undergo and would have less tendency to divert the mind from the rough and wild scenes of camp to those most quiet and pleasant at home. Literature (farther than the daily papers) is a scarce article with us; hence correspondence with those having recourse to its beneficent volumes are to me of more interest than that of “soger boy,” filled with anecdotes such as make up ever day of my own experience.

Kellogg (from Marion) and I have just received by Express a large box filled with the good things of home and are having a “feast.” These articles serve a double purpose for while we are reaping a physical benefit from a collection of articles such as only one interested in the welfare of “soger boy” could think of, we are assured that we are not forgotten by the loved ones far away. I have to return most of my thanks to one of the best of sisters, not forgetting a sister who was not a sister when you visited Wayne county.

Yes, no doubt the 111th [New York] boys think they suffer extremely but if they should be so importunated to spend a year and a half in the service, should spend a summer’s campaign on the Peninsula of eastern Virginia, travel its length four times, then in one month travel 500 miles, 300 of them by continuous marches including within the space 12 days on the battlefield, me thinks they will have a altered views of the hardships of the “bold soger boy.” I sincerely hope they will not have to endure what we have, yet when I see the new regiment with full ranks about us—those hale men with “large bounties”—I can not help thinking, “You ought to have come before. We needed you on the Peninsula.” Neither can I think the bounty & the draft was not the great “I am” with many of them. I believe I made mention in my last letter of one in the Palmyra Courier from the 111th.

Eliza, I have endured the marches and exposures of this summer and fall campaigns far better than I anticipated—better even than most of my comrades, and I sincerely hope that I may never again be inmate of a hospital. Yet I should be almost tempted to wish it necessary for me to be laid away there again were I certain of a being done up in one of those garments “ornamented with very lengthy and elaborate stitches”—“knowing whose work it is” the very fact would be a cure for any ordinary disease.

The ladies are doing a good work not alone in supplying the poor sufferers with articles of comfort; but showing the hearts of those they most love are united with the soldier in a most just cause. The present crisis opens a field of labor for all of both sexes, and of little worth would be the friendship or esteem of anyone of whom it could be said “je has done nothing for his country during the war.” My friend [Edward] Farnsworth whom I thought killed on the field August 30th I have since learned died in Washington of wounds after suffering intensely most three weeks. I would have made most any sacrifice to have seen him before his death had it been possible.

Our position now is about eight miles above Harpers Ferry at the mouth of Antietam Creek. Most of the army have left this vicinity [and] I think have crossed into Virginia, both at Harpers Ferry and at Williamsport. We (Porter’s Corps) may remain in our present position three months, or again three days may not pass before we are on the battlefield far up the Shenandoah Valley. Such are the uncertainties of a soldier’s life. Today all is gay and propitious, tomorrow his corpse is borne to its final resting place, or perchance he has awakened to the reality of being a cripple the remainder of life. It is only by faith that the All-Wise will “order all things well” that I could enter the field of death with any degree of calmness. Although I may not have expressed such thoughts, often has it seemed probable when writing that that might be my last letter. I always strive to enter the field or post of danger with feelings of devotion and reconciliation to my Master’s will. It is a query with me how men can rush into known destruction reveling in curses and blasphemy as I have often seen them do.

As I have expressed my feelings somewhat freely, Eliza, allow me to ask your religious sentiments. Are you (I know you are not a disbeliever) a professed Christian or one waiting for a “more convenient season?” Knowing from the tone of your letters that you at least have a reverence for religion, I trust you will pardon the inquisitiveness and grant the request of your sincere friend, — Selby


Letter 28

17th New York
On the March
November 5th 1862

My dear friend Eliza,

The date above will show you that we are not idle. The Army of the Potomac is again in Virginia and on the advance. One column from Harpers Ferry up the Shenandoah Valley, another by the circuitous route of Leesburg, both towards Winchester. Porter’s Corps (the reserve in the movement) have halted at Snickersville in front of a gap by the same name in the Blue Ridge. Here we may remain several days in position to strike toward either column as occasion may demand, Our being in the “reserve corps” does not relieve us from the expectations of being actors in the great pending battle. I fear our lines (as has been the case altogether before) are too much extended as the enemy can concentrate at a single point easier than we. But McDowell is out of the way, Pope also has been relieved by one whom we believe to be more competent to command a large army and who at least has the confidence and support of his command. And now with the great addition to the strength of our army and in their present state of discipline and organization, we feel confident of success—although we expect a terrible conflict is before us. Many more will mould beneath the wasted soil of Virginia. It may be the fate of your humble correspondent to end his career in the approaching battle. Be that as it may, God is my guardian and if I but honestly perform my part all will be well.

Your letter of 20th arrived the day we commenced our march from Antietam. Your musings with the “Godess” are somewhat amusing; yet very natural. I think the [   ] Diety has flown from me at the present writing for it seems almost impossible for me to write. Yes, Eliza, it is too common for us to “modify our conversation” to accommodate our hearers; yet one does not wish to be a “lone star” by adopting a different course. I have had letters recently from Marion—Josie Vaughn is there attending school. Doubtless Armina has made you acquainted (as she has me) with the fact of her having a new relative in the person of a little Miss Pulver! Success to the most favored of parents. Lide, you say your religious sentiments are “vague and unsatisfactory.” I fear you will consider that I am taking too much liberty and think it easier to tell what to do than to follow my own teachings, yet allow me to suggest that in the cross is found a cure for those vague and wavering conceptions. The path of leads but one way. The Providence of God must be acknowledged in all our doings. My observation has taught me that character is moulded (as you say) in a great measure by the circumstances under which it is formed. In a place like Marion, one brought up with any share of parental care could hardly fail of being what the world would call goo. And yet Eliza, we must remember that where effort is small, the virtue of acquisition is also small. It is he who has borne the thorne of temptation that is prepared to buffet life’s tempests.

My associations in Marion have been somewhat extended but I have often regretted that a much larger portion of my time has been spens among the rougher elements of society. Yet as my experience increases, I look upon such associations almost as beneficial for by them I obtain a more practical knowledge of human character than can otherwise be obtained and can trust myself with impunity in positions that be dangerous were I less acquainted with the “ways of mankind” and not, in a small degree at least, prepared to meet temptations.

Then you could not school yourself to believe in Universalism? It is well that you could not. I remember once to have argued in debate that man could believe what he chose. My views have changed somewhat since then. You think the New York troops at “Camp Douglas” finer soldier than most others you have seen? I am willing to admit that such is the case with all New York soldiers and I am sure that as far as my observation extends, the “old soldiers” are as good a class of men and much more thoroughly imbued with the spirit of military than the “new levies.”

You speak admirably of a cultivated intellect. It is indeed a boon to be highly prized. I had hoped that I might possess a liberal education in its full sense. I wished to pursue a thorough college course. Such hope has withered for by the time I shall have fulfilled my engagement with my venerable Uncle, it will be too late to attempt such an object by my own efforts. These facts have caused me a great deal of thought. I do not feel sufficiently competent with my limited education to undertake the study of a profession and to fill such a position as I should want to if I undertook it and yet that has been my anticipation for several years.

I could enter with interest and enjoyment into other occupations could I become contented to do so. As it is, I have no definite plan for the future adn in this I don’t know as I am worse than the majority of mankind for I firmly believe that the greater share form no “basis of operation” for life until necessity compels them to; but it is not satisfactory to follow in the path of the multitudinous throng when conscious that that is not the true course. Julia has been quite busily engaged lately but I think there must have been miscarriage of either yours or her letters. I will mention the fact to her in my next. When it is possible, I write to her each week and expect to have a return as often. Sometimes, however, she disappoints me. Still I ought not to complain as I get more than my deserts. When I commenced, I did not expect to write much; but I see that I have considerable (in the gross) the net weight though is small.

Please remember me as often as the “Godess” is with you, and if that is not often, please do as I have had to do in this instance—write without her assistance. — Selby


Letter 29

Camp 17th New York near Falmouth
November 26th 1862

Worthy friend,

Lide, I was favored with your letter of 10th inst. two days since. But circumstances have forbidden me writing in return sooner, or of writing before its receipt. You can well imagine the inconvenience of writing when in the field, and particularly so when on the march. Just picture the seven Army Corps now under Burnside with their infantry, artillery, cavalry, and ammunition, baggage and ambulance trains forming a column (if extended on one road) over one hundred miles in extent. Mark out this picture and will see but little room for a laboratory or writing desks and you will, I am sure, make all due allowance for a badly written letter; or a seeming loss of time in attending to epistolary intercourse.

Side, I doubt not that the Illinois soldiers are good fighters. I have never heard of them as being headed by “Quaker Generals.” But in the same connection the 69th and 79th New York earned a name for their desperate courage at the first Bull Run battle; the 9th or Hawkins Zouaves at Roanoke, and again at Antietam have made their name immortal; at Hanover St. the steady fire of the 25th & 44th and the dashing charge of the 17th display courage unexcelled; in the “bloody week” the 12th, 5th, 13th, 25th, and 44th and many others reflected the highest credit upon the New York soldiery, and in the fatal 2nd Bull Run the 12th, 17th, and 44th withstood the most deadly encounter of the whole field with an energy and desperation that never would have yielded that bloody field had they been properly supported. These few instances with very many more that might be mentioned will serve to give the “old soldiers of New York” a somewhat fighting character. As to the “new levies,” it will be time to give them a name when they have earned it. 

You were inclined to the right opinion respecting the New York vote. Although we are slightly beaten on Governor, we have a majority of the representatives in Congress from the state elected. In New York City and vicinity when many Democrats have enlisted in the army, their (Democratic) majority is nearly the same as two years ago. But in western New York, from whence nearly all the soldiers are Republican, our majority has fallen off amazingly. Another item which operated somewhat unfavorably toward the election of Governor Wadsworth was his antipathy toward Gen. McClellan.

You mention an interview with Conway Young. I am but slightly acquainted with him personally; he has been away from home most of the time when I have been at Marion. His opportunities for mental culture have been very good and I suppose he has well improved them, Well it is for him if his moral and physical character are equally cultivated. Doff Page tells us that it is only by the development of these three characters that the educated man in constituted proper. Perhaps by the intercession of Gen. Wadsworth and others, the New York paroled prisoners at Chicago may be returned East. But they had better not allot too much upon getting home for disappointment maketh the heart sad.

You ask if I am in regular correspondence with Armina. Well I have written to Armina & William nearly ever since I came away and they also to me. Sometimes at longer intervals than I could wish but I was so unreasonable that I would not write to each of a dozen or more much oftener than they to me.

Eliza, I am sorry to see written over your signature such expressions concerning the removal of Gen. McClellan. I well remember how you sympathized with the “Son of the West” at the time Fremont was first deprived of command; hence I suspected you would have charity for those who have an equally strong love for and confidence in the General of the East. McClellan has made mistakes—who in commencing worse than nothing, i. e., with an utterly demoralized army would not? 

In the advance onto the Peninsula, he was too confident in his numerical force but after the battle of Fair Oaks, he too well knew that he had not sufficient force to capture Richmond. He would not have again given the enemy battle until the government had been able to largely reinforce him (which was done a few days too late) had he not been compelled to do so by the enemy’s attack. Never was there in the history of this war a better conducted battle than those under McClellan’s supervision. After the siege of Yorktown, his van pursued the foe to Williamsburg. There battle was offered which was at first unfavorable. But the timely arrival of Chief Commander insured a splendid victory. This it was in the first great series of battles before Richmond the foe were driven to their strong defenses at the very outskirts of the city. Again in the second series, when out-numbered by the vast hoards of treason, each day’s fight was in itself a victory and each night’s adventure a skillful withdrawal from an untenable position to a strong one nearer the place where the army could be safe under cover of the gunboats.

The Battle of Malvern Hill July 1st is not excelled in the history of wars. There Mack not only held his position against vastly superior forces but drove them from the field with terrible slaughter. Mack’s failure to accomplish the purpose of the Peninsular Campaign is attributable to several causes other than his own incompetency—not the least among these was the fact that McDowell instead of vanquishing the Rebel Jackson’s force, or at least holding him away from Richmond, was criminally delinquent of duty and allowed that very General to pass through his hands adn turn the right of McClellan’s army. Again a large reinforcement sent to McClellan arrived just one week too late.

When the army was again organized for another attempt on Richmond, it became necessary for them to move for the defense of Washington, Then McClellan’s command was taken from him and his men turned over to Gen. Pope. The result you well know and we deeply deplore. Then, when the army had run the gauntlet for Washington was terribly shattered and demoralized, the enemy had gained strong positions in Maryland and even raided Pennsylvania, the whole country looked with disappointment upon the maneuvers of Gen. Pope and he asked to be relieved from a command he was in no wise able to maintain, the government sought one to again assume the command of the “Potomac Army.” As I understand the matter, it was then offered to Gen. Burnside but he declined assuming it under such perilous circumstances. It was finally urged upon McClellan. His energy, skill, and promptitude until after the Battle of Antietam deserve not censure but the highest approbation of all America. How removal at the time when he had [rest of letter missing]


Letter 30

Camp 17th New York
Near Potomac Creek, Va.
December 19th 1862

My dear friend,

I opened my portfolio yesterday for the purpose of writing you then, but circumstances prevented and I was afterwards glad it was so for in the evening I was favored with your letter of the 7th inst.

Since I wrote before, we have been in active and exciting scenes, neither have the critical ad disastrous been far removed from the positions in which we have acted. However, your humble correspondent has again great reason to thank a kind Providence that he has in this instance been a favored one.

I tell you, Eliza, you can but faintly conjecture the feelings of a person when entering the jaws of death. Despite the strongest drive and the calmest mind, there are emotions that thrill the whole being of a most uncomfortable character. The feeling is prevalent to a much less degree when in a fair engagement on a charge or otherwise energetically employed than when as our Division was all day Sunday lying under a slight cover but short range from the foe, when but a stir to raise a head was a summons for a score of bullets.

The details of the Battle at Fredericksburg you will of course read in print long before this reaches you. The 5th Army Corps [of] Gen. Butterfield (formerly Gen. Porter) went upon the field Saturday p.m. They gained at dusk a ridge which had been contested for by both armies all day. This we held during the night when we were relieved. There was no general engagement Sunday except such as I mentioned above, which is more properly picket firing than a battle, but I assure you it is more torturing to be on picket where for either party but to show their heads is to call for a death warrant than to fight a fair field battle.

I know the most fictitious minded of us never hugged a delusive hope with greater ardor than we did the ground the 14th December 1862. When night brought relief, it was with ecstasy that we “Schonged posish.” That bloody chapter is ended. Many thousands of brave men have fallen victims of the foeman’s steel; yet no advantage is gained. We are no nearer the close of the war for aught that has been sacrificed to the rashness of the Commander in Chief of the USA. The foe have their position and fortifications in such a manner in the rear of Fredericksburg that will cost the sacrifice of more men than Uncle Samuel has to spare at this time.

I do not think it should be charged to the gallant Burnside that he has slaughtered a legion of freedom’s sons to no purpose; but I do think the military dictator at Washington will have to answer for the lives of thousands if he gave preemptory orders to storm the enemy’s works when the commander in the field and all his marshalls in council assembled decided that it would be of no avail. Burnside managed the fight nobly. His Marshall Corps, Division, and Brigade commanders heartily cooperated and the men fought as bravely and desperately as those engaged in a righteous cause ever could. The fight of Saturday is the true and only Waterloo that has been reenacted during the contest.

The battle opened and closed upon the same fields with but very little change of position. One Brigade and Division was led to the front; and [rest of letter missing]


Letter 31

Oakley Farms, Virginia
January 9, 1862 [should be 1863]

My dear friend Lide,

Some time since I received a “short” letter from you with a promise of another on a few days. but there seem to be many days between the arrival of the two letters. I will not say I have delayed writing a second letter since the receipt of yours on account of the  non-arrival of the expected letter for I should not, I presume, have written before I had received it as we have been quite busy and I have been quite unwell withal.

The 30th, 31st, and 1st January we were out on a reconnoissance up and across the Rappahannock. In the affair we were three days exposed to very inclement weather, the effect of which many of us still feel.

Eliza, I see that William and Armina are as strong anti-McClellan advocates as you are, and I judge that such is the general sentiment in that vicinity. And this is not the end of the matter. By the clamor of the people, rulers are induced often to do what better judgment and better knowledge of the true position of affairs would dictate. I contend that the soldier is the better judge of the merits of a general—and surely he is more interested in the character of him who is to be the guardian of his life and honor than one enjoying ease and comfort far away from danger. When soldiers have been with a general through many a hard fought battle and have given him their confidence on account of his skill and bravery, and their affections because he has manifested the greatest regard for their interest, it is a bad stroke upon the army to replace than man by some other who has a claim either upon their confidence or regards.

Veteran soldiers must have their wishes consulted or you have no right to expect them to win. Why should their judgment be weaker than their less brave associates who know nothing of military by either experience or observation, but base their ideas upon the flimsy newspaper gossip. With this portion of the army it is a most distasteful thought that at least ten thousand of their number have been shot down as victims of political heresy. One cannot blame us for railing [against] the North with bitter rage for causing such useless and wanton shedding of blood. But you will have read enough of this style.

News from the West is of importance but you get that before us. I will close this epistle andn enclose with it a few thoughts written when in a more pensive mood. — Selby


Letter 32

Oakley Farms, Virginia
February 8, 1863

My dear friend Lide,

Although I have been negligent of you this long, I trust you will pardon this once. Excuses can be formed at any time with reason or not and amount to little when offered. I will trouble you with none. January 17th I received yours dated the 2nd and postmarked 12th. The 25th, yours of the 14th came to hand. You partially admit the truth of my statements regarding McClellan, then express the hope they are not true and you wish McClellan to be covered with [____quy] in order to cover the calumny “of President & Cabinet.” Upon this I have no comments to offer; neither do I care about defending or eulogizing the man other than as a sympathetic soldier and skillful General. There is now but little hope that he will be reinstated in his command and since a set of unprincipled politicians are striving so earnestly to claim him as their own, and by his popularity with the legions of voters in the army to gain power for their broken down hobly [?], I claim no prerogative in his case other than to wait the development of future events.

Yes, Lide, “teaching” is indeed a “humble” occupation—particularly in a young lady, or at least we should judge so were we to accept snuffs and puffs of those of their own sex who live upon “tight lacing and French novels.” But Eliza, there may be some consolation in the knowledge of the fact that most of those that rise to eminence in any noble or useful calling come up from a “humble” position; while the more fastidious rise only in their own estimation, pass away and are forgotten.

“Nothing of importance to communicate from the Army of the Potomac.” The above has been the amount of press correspondence from here for several days past, yet I suspect that not many days will elapse before it will be known why theres “nothing to communicate.” The 9th Army Corps have passed down the railroad to Aquia, their destination or who will follow next would be only a matter of speculation at present with us. I hope this army will be so assigned as to do good in the coming season for here is much of our best metal yet here, as a whole, under any man that can now be assigned to its command. I cannot hope for brilliant achievement. My time is drawing to a close. I should hate to be crippled in the last end of my service after being bomb and bullet proof so long; yet if the 5th Corps should be wanted to aid in the reduction of Charleston or Vicksburg, I could not wish the 17th [New York] to be detached.

You have read our “last movement” if you see Harpers Weekly in the number for “Feb. 14th.” You will see a very good representation of our condition near “Camp Stuck in the Mud.” Some features of that movement are not given to the public and I think it well that they are not. Well indeed! for the reputation of the “new troops” and some of the old ones.

Eliza, you are six months minus one day younger than I. Your meditation on your “old age” were to me very natural. Often have I, when musing upon that subject, wondered if other people had such thoughts as my own. When free from the army, I shall be nearly 24 years of age, yet how small a beginning have I made in life’s mission. Two years though, with some addition for reust I can charge to Uncle Samuel, which I trust he will give me credit for in my final balance of accounts. Yes, I too “know that neither William nor Arminia are McClellan men” and I have very much transcended their idea of propriety in my correspondence with them. But then the truth “will out” sometimes with a soldier. The reason that he has done nothing to “command the respect of those not connected with the army is because they only look at his deeds through a colored glass. 

No, Lide, I never met the lady of whom you speak—Miss Manchester. Perhaps you are right in the opinion that “man does not expect very much of woman;” but the question now is whether or not man is right in his depreciation of woman. Who can tell? Your resolve is a good one; if for no other reason; regularity and system of habits are great benefits, yet if you knew the laxity of my habits, you would call me a hypocrite—teaching what I did not practice.

I never would advise anyone to fall in with a popular current simply to be popular but by such course it is often easy to accomplish a great good, comparatively easy, which under other circumstances would be much more unpleasant. 

You mention the efforts of “Elder Knapp—a great revivalist” in your city. Now let me ask would it not be well for you to make use of the above suggestion and attend to the most weighty matter of your life? In this you will receive the prayer of your sincere friend, — Selby


Letter 33

Oakley Farms, Virginia
March 8, 1863

Dear friend Eliza,

It is now my turn to complain of “humdrum life.” We have a little change from snow to rain, then fair weather sufficient to look out doors before it commences to snow again. When we came to our present encampment in November last, we could scarcely see daylight, the forest was so dense. But now we cannot see a tree save those few reserved as ornaments. But in their stead we cannot look amiss of a camp It has been quite awhile now since we (17th N. Y.) have done any picket duty, marching or reconnoitering, and with the monotonous routine of camp duty, times passes sluggishly on.

Your mention of your enjoyment of different works of poetry &c. brings a fait recollection that there is, or was somewhere, something in the shape of literature beside the silly novels and the daily recurring “Herald, Tribune, & Times.”  Perhaps, Eliza, your standard of oratory is too high. Wendall Philips is thought by us of the East to be among the best of his kind, but were you to hear John B. Gough, as perhaps you have, you would be sure to like him also, and be highly entertained, notwithstanding he is “theatrical” in his style.

You comment somewhat upon the arbitrary power of the military. Military law is rigid and summary but the very nature of the institution for which an army is formed and the fact that all classes and characters are massed together demand this seeing severity. All have to yield to their superiors in rank, but with a man of reason it is looked upon as necessity and done without humiliation, or “loss of self respect,” although it is by no means an uncommon occurrence to see a commanding officer have under him many who are intellectually, morally, physically, and by position (previous to the war) greatly his superiors and are under him simply from the fact that they were sufficiently zealous in their country’s cause to enlist in her cause without seeking a position.

I don’t know as I feel any more humble or deficient of self respect when associating with a superior than an equal or inferior in rank. This freedom may be owing in a measure to the fact that there is less of that aristocratic distinction between the different ranks in our regiment than in many others.

We expect to “push out” before long though we hear not the least whisper of when, where, or how the spring campaign will be made. But we believe Uncle Joseph [Hooker] will show that the Army of the Potomac is yet alive before the two-year’s men from New York leave him. — Selby


Letter 34

Oakley Farms, Virginia
March 29, 1863

Lide,

Your favor of the 20th was received two days since and its contents “devoured” with interest for although I have become emphatically and of “loving to write letters,” I still have an inclination to be exacting of others. Eliza, do not feel in mourning the loss of your sister as one in the agony of despair, for Divine wit informs us that such separations are needful and proper. I shall endeavor to make the acquaintance of your sister and her husband upon the event of their visit East next fall; provided, however, that I am at home then which event there are at present reasons to doubt.

I al glad, Lide, that you prefer “Wendall” to “John B. Gough” but something whispers to me that you must have somewhat modified your opinion regarding the “everlasting nigger”—the subject which alone calls forth the remarkable pathos of “Wendall.”

You ask if you do not write “real stupid letters” and enquire upon me to be candid & uncomplimentary. Hence, I must give a solemn answer or none at all. Now, Eliza, this is really bad in you not to allow me to mention any complimentary qualities of which your letters abound. The good taste, refined sentiment, lively style, near penmanship. As you must have an  answer, I shall say—yes! I am writing to my lady friend in the Far West and yet it almost vain that I should do so for by her last letter I am informed that she expected to “blow away.” Should you, perchance, still be of the present tense and receive this epistle, please inform me whether it was on account of age, beauty, or other quality that you entertained such “fairy notions.”

I suppose it would not seem natural to receive a letter from the army with no war items among its contents so here goes to the Army of the Potomac. With Fighting Joseph at the head, they can flog any equal force in front and the combined clan of Copperheads at the North. The army here has improved to an amazing degree within the past two months. Its numbers have been swollen largely by the return from hospital of many that were wounded in action or worn out by the long marches of last season. Also many exchanged prisoners have returned.

The reaction and almost utter demoralization of the army occasioned by the loss of their favorite leader, the defeat of Fredericksburg, and the discouraging sentiments so prevalent at the North have subsided. Gen. Hooker in his zealous efforts to discipline the army has manifested a deep interest in the welfare of his command and is fast winning their esteem and confidence. He is known to be a brave man’ we now think him competent to meet the exigencies of his present position. Many of McClellan’s warmest friends have entire confidence in Gen. Hooker. But give us the support of a united North and we will do our share.

Your true friend, — Selby


Letter 35

Oakley Farms, Virginia
April 14, 1863

My dear friend,

Your favor of the 7th inst. came to hand last evening. You state that my former letter came into your possession “about a week ago after an ominous silence of a number of weeks.” My last letter, 29th ult. was written two days after receiving yours, whereas you acknowledge a week between the date of your receipt and writing. Again, your little short letter. But my dear Miss, your letter possesses the same quality in (I think) a larger degree; but I will not scold as that wouldn’t be pretty. I shall be obliged to write a short letter this time also as we are to march early tomorrow and I have two or three letters to write besides getting ready to move to a new home. 

At the time of your writing, you were reading that beautiful poem, The Lady of the Lake. When you read that portion styled “The Combat” please, for me, remember your friend as an actor of the part of [   ] due in connection with my old chum, E. M. Allen, a soldier in the 98th New York.

I hope your expectations of coming East with your sister the coming season will be realized.

The report of the “Congressional Committee on the Conduct of the War,” recently published has to some degree caused a reaction of feeling here regarding Gen. McClellan. I suppose that your brother William will now depreciate my judgement more than heretofore for my being so recreant to Republicanism as to [  ] upon our leader with any degree of levity. While here I have often been censored for my want of confidence in Gen. McClellan. I do not think this fact is attributable to my attempting to hold a position adverse to my associates but because the position I thought to be reasonable was neither as enthusiastic as most of the soldiers nor as sarcastic as their friends at home.

A large body of cavalry move both to the right & left yesterday with necessary supports of infantry and artillery to allow them to cross the river into rebeldom. The whole army are preparing to move immediately with “eight days rations” and a large supply of ammunition. If Gen. Hooker proves to be as successful with a large army as he has with a smaller force, brilliant acquisitions will result from the campaign now begun. This is to be my last and I hope it will prove that will do honor to the “Army of the Potomac” and efficient service to the country. Hard fighting or fast running will undoubtedly occur within a few days. The same mail that brings the news of victory will cause mourning in many a household of our friends. Our trust is in God and our steel. Cheerfully yours. — Selby


Letter 36

Newark, New York
September 8, 1863

My dear friend Lide,

It has seemed a very long period since I wrote you last. And indeed it has been two months. I could not now attribute the non appearance of the highly prized epistle to the :irregularity of the mail.” And after waiting what I thought to be a long time for return, reluctantly concluded tha, from some cause, you had chosen to break our correspondence, and too, without that understanding between us expressed as well as in etiquette always implied: when the party becomes disinclined to farther correspondence. But the receipt this evening of your letter of the 6th inst. in part dispelled my unpleasant inference. Perhaps I did you injustice to entertain such thoughts.

Far from “not missing” your letters, Eliza, during this long vacation, coupled with the inference mentioned above, I have missed them more than at any former period, and partly for reasons hereafter to be made known.

New York [State], since my last writing, you are aware, has been the theatre of active events. Gov. Seymour’s dear friends have enacted a “play” which draws the attention of the world and renders the “Empire State” more conspicuous than ever before. We have also had a malignant epidemic passing, as it were, through the Heavens. So many have caught but a single draft of the infected air, have been smitten by the terrible malady. This has led to divers diseases curable only by an appeal to the learned doctors of Abraham and then in most instances the healing balm could only be obtained by the payment of $300.

I am occasionally interested in my studies but to the beginner in the [legal] profession the antiquated Commentaries of Blackstone are not the most entertaining notes that might be laid upon one who has long been unaccustomed to studious habits. My greater interest, therefore, is in expectancy rather than the obsolete forms I am now drumming over.

Lide, you are pleased that I have chosen the profession that I have, but you remain silent on a point that from our long correspondence I deem you as well, if not better, able to judge than anyone else. To wit: my mental and moral ability to e successful. My grandmother says I should have studied medicine. She says I am too slow of speech for a lawyer.

Lide, allow me to ask you to lend me your photograph in your next letter, if convenient. I am having some vignettes printed and will send you one in my next if you wish. You sent me your Ambrotype some time since but I am sorry to state the “casualties of war” robbed me of it. I believe you have mine with the “army blue” which I prefer you to destroy as I think the civilian becomes me better. 

I must close somewhat briefly but will write more at length next time. Hoping for an answer in a few days. I trust I may not be disappointed. Truly, — S. Selby Fish


Letter 37

Newark, New York
September 29, 1863

Dear friend Lide,

I have this evening returned from Marion—from a visit thither under solemn circumstances. Cousin Daniel Russell was buried today, vut off in the spring time of life. He was partner with Mr. Norton (of your acquaintance) in the Marion Foundry & Machine Shop. Well engaged in business—life’s prospect was bright before him. But alas, how soon and suddenly is it turned to naught! We would have otherwise; but our will cannot rule the destiny of man.

Were it my lot to be cut off in youth, I should wish it could have been while in the army. However sensitive others may be about their friends being buried on a distant battlefield, denied the presence of loved ones to smooth the dying pillow and to pay the last tokens of respect by a Christian burial, for me (were early life to be yielded to its giver) there could be no higher boon than for my ashes to mingle with the slain thousands of freedom’s sons.

Lide, you probably noticed that in my last letter I wrote vinettes for vignettes. I soon thereafter learned that Webster knew of no such word and I had in that particular become an author.

Your letter of the 23rd was received this evening. I do not think that my manner of writing at times has been owing (as you suppose) to any distrust of your friendship; but while in the army the absence of congenial society and since my return having been most of the time among strangers; I have felt a loneliness and expressed an impatience and puerility perhaps, which, with more consideration I should have avoided. Our intimacy has led me to be free and unguarded in my expressions, writing always upon the first impulse, judging that the less constraint and formality used the better you would like my letters. How far I have misjudged your taste in this particular, I care not to estimate at present.

I am thankful, however, to have my faults brought to my notice that I may amend my ways therein. But my friend, if recollection, or old letters testify correctly, these faults have not been all on one side. Specifications might be made, were it pleasant to do so. Enough has been said on that point.

As to your question, to wit: “Do you know or can you imagine that any circumstances or change of circumstances could occur so that our friendly letters would be no longer pleasant or proper or right?” As this question, I say, is in a form and connection to demand an answer, I will simply say that I do not know of any. But I conceive there might be such “change of circumstances” with either party as, if unknown to the other party, would render a continuance of correspondence by that party improper.

Yes, we do have sad news from Gen. Rosecrans but I can hardly agree with you that “it seems strange to hear bad news from a quarter where we have been accustomed to hear such good reports.” I hold that success or disaster depends as much upon the force brought against an army as it does upon the skill and bravery of that army. When Rosecrans was pressed by overpowering force as the ARmy of the Potomac has often been, the result with his army even, is equally to be lamented, with the worst disaster to that most noble army of the East. And on the other hand no achievements of the “Cumberland Army” or that of indomitable Grant shine with more intense luster than do many of the brilliant deeds of the Army of the Potomac. 

You see that I still claim honor for those veterans with whom I have passed so many eventful periods; neither would I cancel aught of the well-earned fame of the Western troops.

Eliza, I deem it best that our correspondence should cease for the present; however, as you have my likeness, you will not hesitate to send me your photograph as before spoken of. Your letters have been a source of great pleasure and of profit to me. I thank you for your kindness. I hope that mine have in some measure contributed to your pleasure during our three years correspondence. Wishing you much happiness, I hope ever to be remembered as your sincere friend, — S. S. Fish

to Miss Eliza C. Boyce


1862: Melzar Wentworth Clark to his Daughter

This letter was written by Melzar Wentworth Clark (1812-1895) of Hingham, Plymouth county, Massachusetts. Melzar was married to Sabina Hobart Lincoln (1820-1906) in 1837 and was working as a baker in Hingham when his oldest son Andrew Jackson Clark (1837-1927) enlisted to served in Co. H, 23rd Massachusetts in 1861.

I could not find any evidence that 50 year-old Melzar was serving in any official military capacity at the time he wrote this letter in September 1862. My assumption is that he was at the Hammond General Hospital as a civilian volunteer, or perhaps as a government paid work in the hospital bakery. In any event, we learn from this letter that he was at the hospital assisting the medical staff with the treatment of the wounded soldiers who were “from the late battlefields” near Washington D. C. These would have been, of course, the battles at Groveton, 2nd Bull Run, and/or Chantilly.

Transcription

Hammond General Hospital (spoke-like structure at lower left) on Point Lookout, MD. This artist’s rendering is from later in the war. Melzar was probably quartered in the two-story structure that looks more like a house at right center facing the ocean. The wharf can be clearly seen at the left or sheltered side of the peninsula.

Ward B, Hammond General Hospital
Point Lookout, Maryland
September 14, 1862

Dear Daughter

It is now 3 oclock P.M. I have just shaved me & sat down for the first time since I got up. Four hundred wounded soldiers arrived here yesterday afternoon in the J. R. Spaulding from Washington. They are from the late battlefields in that vicinity. Quite a large number are Massachusetts men.  Tell Lyman Whiten there is one man from Captain [Cephas C.] Bumpus’ Company named Hiram Nickerson 1 who lost his right middle finger by a minié ball here. He says he is the only one in the 32rd regiment harmed. There are some from the 18th Regiment, some from the 29th (Barnes’) and other regiments. They are wounded in all parts of their limbs, hips, and shoulders. It was a sad sight to see them come hobbling up from the boat—which lands close by here—with crutches, canes, &c. so exhausted as to sink down upon the floor as soon as they could get a chance.

We have had a hard time of it ever since they arrived getting their beds up and the linens ready for them and for themselves, to say nothing about providing it for all the other patients. This morning Dr. Stearns and  Lombard, with me for an assistant, as soon as breakfast was over, went through with what there was in Ward B. It took them till noon removing the bandages, probing and otherwise examining their wounds and redressing them. They bore all with great fortitude. We suffer none from the heat although it is quite hot in the sun. I never saw so much difference anywhere at the North as there is here between being in the shade and in the sun. The suns rays penetrate just like the heat of an  oven, while at the same time it is delightfully cool and balmy in the shade.

The Philadelphia Enquirer, 25 November 1862

I found it so in Baltimore in a peculiar manner and, also, on my way down the Chesapeake on board the Major Belger. This is owing to the sea breeze that is constantly blowing from all quarters here. As the ward I am in is in upper story of what was a spacious hotel which embraces three large houses attached to one another, we feel the full force of it through the long corridors which extend north and south, east and west, between the rooms, with windows opening at the top and clear down  to the floor.

As we look across the mouth of the Potomac, the sacred soil of Virginia is in full view 8 or 10 miles distant. We can see it some ways up the river, and down to the light at the mouth of the  Rapahannock.

This is the third letter that I have written home. I have received nothing as yet but  hope to before long. Mary Hobart said she would see that the Boston Journal was sent me. I have not got one yet. If you have found that large map Andrew had at Fortress Monroe that came out of that big book, I wish it put in an envelope newspaper fashion and forwarded to me by mail. His is Papa’s little humming bird and the baby? From your father, — M. W. Clark


1 The only Nickerson I can find in the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry was listed on the roster as William T. Nickerson (1838-1867) of Plymouth in Co. E.

1862 Diary of Alexis Caswell Dean, Co. C, 22nd Massachusetts Infantry

I could not find an image of Alexis but here is one of James Beatty of Co. I, 22nd Massachusetts Infantry (Photo Sleuth)

The following diary was kept by Alexis Caswell Dean (1842-1923) of Co. C, 22nd Massachusetts. He was the son of Philip King Dean (1798-1882) and Nancy K. Thomas (1802-1857). In the 1855 Mass. Census, Alexis was enumerated as a 13 year-old in his father’s household in Raynham, Bristol county, Massachusetts. After the war, in 1866, Alexis would marry Martha (“Mattie”) Bowers Perry and settle down in Foxboro in Norfolk county where he worked as a shoe merchant.

Alexis enlisted on 2 September 1861 initially as a musician in the regiment but soon moved into the ranks where he was promoted to a corporal. He had great handwriting which afforded him the opportunity to fill in as a clerk to his Colonel and even to Gen. Fitz-John Porter during the Peninsula Campaign. He became ill following that campaign and was not with his regiment for many months. He was wounded on 23 May 1864 at North Anna River and mustered out of the regiment on 17 October 1864.

To read letters by other members of the 22nd Massachusetts Infantry that I have transcribed and published in Spared & Shared, see:

George Thomas Perkins, 22nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
William Wallace Smith, Co. B, 22nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
William Wallace Smith, Co. B, 22nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
George Franklin Stone, Co. D, 22nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)
Joseph Simonds, Co. F, 22nd Massachusetts (1 Letter)

[Note: This diary is from the personal collection of Greg Herr and was transcribed and published in Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Transcription

Diary for 1862

January 1st—Very pleasant. I am in Camp Wilson, Hall’s Hill, Virginia.
January 2nd—Quite cold. Brigade drill in the afternoon.
January 3rd—Received a letter from Sarah and heard from Charles.
January 4th—Snowed a little in the night. Exchanged guns.
January 5th—Pleasant Sunday. We had a meeting in the open air and two joined the Soldier’s Church by public profession and communion services at the close of the meeting.
January 6th—Snowed a little at night.
January 7th—Supernumerary for guard. George is under arrest.
January 8th—A rainy night. I am on guard. George had a box from home.
January 9th—Came off guard. George was sent to quarters.
January 10th—On fatigue duty.
January 11th—Very muddy.
January 12th—Pleasant. Sign the pay roll.
January 13th—George was court martial and acquitted.
January 14th—Quite snowy. We’re paid off.
January 15th—Quite stormy.
January 16th—Pleasant.
January 17th—Pleasant.
January 18th—Stormy and muddy.
January 19th—Very stormy and muddy.
January 20th—Stormy and muddy.
January 21st—Stormy & muddy.
January 22nd—Stormy. On picket.
January 23rd—Came off picket. Received orders to box up all the things we could not carry.
January 24th—Battalion drill in the afternoon & morning. Rai at night.
January 25th—Went on guard.
January 26th—Came off guard.
January 27th—Tent caught fire and burnt up. On fatigue duty today.
January 28th—Stormy. Had my miniature taken.
January 29th—Washed my clothes.
January 30th—Very stormy.
January 31st—Company drill in the morning.

February 1st—Quite stormy.
February 2nd—Pleasant Sunday.
February 3rd—Snowy. Company drill in the morning.
February 4th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning.
February 5th—Pleasant. Brigade drill in the morning.
February 6th—Very stormy in the morning. On guard.
February 7th—Came off guard. Target shooting in the morning.
February 8th—On fatigue duty.
February 9th—Pleasant. Sunday meeting in the morning. Sabbath School in the afternoon.
February 10th—Pleasant. Had my hair cut.
February 11th—Worked on the road about sick at night.
February 12th—On fatigue duty again. Almost sick.
February 13th—Very pleasant day. Seems like spring. Saw robins & bluebirds. Went target shooting. Nearly sick.
February 14th. On fatigue duty building roads. Almost sick.
February 15th—Very snowy. Went to the Dr. in the morning.
February 16th—Pleasant. Sick.
February 17th—Very stormy.
February 18th—Very muddy. On guard. I am sick.
February 19th—Very stormy.
February 20th—Pleasant. On fatigue duty.
February 21st—Drilled in the morning. Rather cold.
February 22nd—Washington’s Birthday. Salutes were fired by the batteries.
February 23rd—Cloudy.
February 24th—Tremendous windy in the afternoon. It blew nearly all our tents down.
February 25th—Pleasant. Battalion drill in the afternoon.
February 26th—Pleasant in the morning but rained at night. Battalion drill in the morning. Brigade in the afternoon. Orders to have two days rations cooked.
February 27th—Pleasant. Orders to box up everything we could not carry on our backs.
February 28th—Very cold and windy. We were mustered on guard.

March 1st—Pleasant.
March 2nd—Snowy in the afternoon.
March 3rd—Stormy.
March 4th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning.
March 5th—Company drill in the morning & afternoon orders to come out to roll call with gun & equipments.
March 6th—Washed my clothes. Brigade drill in the afternoon.
March 7th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. Battalion drill in the afternoon.
March 8th—Pleasant. Brigade drill in the morning.
March 9th—Pleasant.
March 10th—Left Hall’s Hill at 7 o’clock for Fairfax Court House. Arrived there at 4 o’clock p.m. Rained in the morning and at night. Slept on the ground in the open air at night. George remained in camp.
March 11th—Pleasant. Company drill in the afternoon.
March 12th—Pleasant. Battalion drill in the morning & brigade drill in the afternoon. Reviewed by Gen. McClellan at sunset.
March 13th—Rained in the afternoon. Saw 4 rebel prisoners. Company drill in the afternoon.
March 14th—Rained at night. Company drill in the morning & afternoon. Saw a lot of contrabands. Nothing but 3 hard bread for breakfast, 2 for dinner, & nothing for supper.
March 15th—Left Fairfax at 6 in the morning for Alexandria. Rained very hard all day.
March 16th—Pleasant. Inspection in the morning. Had rubber tents.
March 17th—Company drill in the morning & afternoon. Inspection at night. Pleasant. Wm. Macomber & I went in to Fort Worth.
March 18th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning & afternoon.
March 19th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morn & afternoon. Left Camp California for Alexandria City at 4 o’clock p.m. Quartered in a Methodist Church.
March 20th—Rather stormy. Signed the allotment roll to have $11 of my pay sent to Sarah each month. On guard at night.
March 21st—Cloudy all day. Left the city for the boat at 4 o’clock p.m.
March 22nd—Pleasant. Left Alexandria at 10 o’clock a.m. on board the steamship Daniel Webster. Saw Mount Vernon as we sailed down the Potomac.
March 23rd—Pleasant. Raised anchor at 5 in the morning. arrived in the harbor of Fortress Monroe at 5 p.m. Saw the Monitor & saw the rebel flag flying at Sewell’s Point.
March 24th—Landed at 7 a.m. Left at 10 o’clock for Hampton. Arrived there at 2 p.m. and pitched our tents. Very pleasant.
March 25th. Left at 10 o’clock and went about halfway between Hampton and New Market Bridge & camped. Pleasant.
March 26th—Pleasant. Washed my clothes. At 10 o’clock the regiment went out reconnoitering and were ordered to load [our guns] for the first time. Went out about 8 miles, found the rebels picket, and then returned to camp.
March 27th—15,000 men passed camp this morning. 11 o’clock, I am on the bank of a little river and it is the most pleasant morn I ever saw. Brigade drill in the afternoon. saw yesterday where two regiments of our army met in battle before the fight at Big Bethel.
March 28th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. Battalion drill in the afternoon.
March 29th—Company drill in the morning. Rainy in the afternoon. 9 o’clock at night it rains very hard and the water is quite deep in the tent. We are trying to drain the water off so we can sleep and not be in the water.
March 30th—Cloudy and some rain. went out on picket at 8 o’clock. posted in a swamp. At 10 o’clock at night one of our pickets was shot and [William] Fletcher & I went down and took his place until morning.
March 31st—Very pleasant. Came off picket. Missed the dress parade at night. Company drill in the afternoon.

April 1st—Pleasant. Battalion drill morning and afternoon.
April 2nd—Cloudy all day. Battalion drill in the afternoon. Quite heavy thunder with rain at night. On guard at the cook house at night.
April 3rd—Very pleasant. Brigade drill in the afternoon. Orders to have three days rations in our haversacks and two days uncooked in boxes.
April 4th—Pleasant. Reveille at 4 o’clock. Left New Market at 6 a.m. and arrived at Big Bethel at 10:30 a.m. Rested one hour, then marched to within 6 miles of Yorktown and camped for the night (orderly for the Colonel).
April 5th—Left for Yorktown at 6:30 a.m. Rained very hard until 10 a.m. At 11:30 a.m. halted in an open field, unslung knapsacks, had a few moment’s rest when our regiment and the 2nd Main [Infantry] were called for by Gen. [John H.] Martindale to go and support a battery. 2 p.m., the regiment supporting battery in woods. Sunset skirmishing. Company B has just advanced into the open field and had 9 men wounded. On picket at night. Slept but three hours during the night. The rebels burned a house nearby at night.

The regiment was engaged in its first combat on 5 April 1862. Warrick Road.


April 6th—Pleasant Sunday. On picket until 11 a.m. The rebels kept throwing shell over occasionally. The last one killed two horses and wounded one man. reported that a flag of truce had been sent in giving the rebels 24 hours to surrender.
April 7th—Rained in the afternoon. saw a wounded rebel that had been brought in during the night. One of the men died that was shot Saturday [Ap. 5th] in Co. H.
April 8th—Rained in the morning. Cloudy in the afternoon. saw a shell that the rebels threw over that did not burst. Also rebel gun with sword bayonet which a deserter had. On guard at the cook house at night.
April 9th—Cloudy in the morning. Rainy in the afternoon. The rebels threw a few shell over in the morning. The regiment was called out at 11 o’clock at night but it was a false alarm.
April 10th—Pleasant. Very cold at night. Left Camp Misery at 11:30 a.m. and went back one mile and camped.
April 11th—Very pleasant. Went out on picket. The rebels shelled us and came out and tried to drive us in. Several of the rebels were killed & some of our men wounded.
April 12th—Pleasant. Came off picket.
April 13th—Pleasant Sunday.
April 14th—Pleasant. Had my hair cut. Company drill in the morning.
April 15th—Pleasant. On fatigue duty building bridges. Another party went out at night.
April 16th—Pleasant and warm. Company drill in the morning. Washed my clothes. On guard at night. The rebels threw some shells over and the regiment was called out and kept in line until 11 o’clock p.m. Heavy cannonading all day and was kept up all night. Reported that we had taken two forts during the day. Many prisoners.
April 17th—Pleasant. Firing heard occasionally during the day. Heavy firing of cannon and musketry at 1 o’clock at night. The regiment was called out but the firing soon ceased.
April 18th—Pleasant. Company drill morning and afternoon.
April 19th—Pleasant during the day but rained very hard at night. Almost sick with the dysentery. Company drill in the morning. On fatigue duty building roads in the afternoon.
April 20th—Quite rainy. Sunday. On fatigue duty building fortifications in front of Fort Magruder.
April 21st—Showery all day. Rained into our tent very hard at night.
April 22nd—Pleasant in the morning. Showery in the afternoon. Company drill in the morning & afternoon. Sharp firing of artillery at 10 p.m.
April 23rd—On fatigue duty building roads. Went on guard at night. Pleasant.
April 24th—Pleasant. Came off guard. The regiment went out scouting.
April 25th—Cloudy & some rain. Went out on picket at 5 o’clock in the morning. 6:30 o’clock p.m. am on post alone under a tree the side of a river and am thinking of home.
April 26th—Very rainy all day. Came off picket.
April 27th—Sunday. Cloudy all day. Sharp firing of cannon in the afternoon and in the night by the gunboats.
April 28th—Pleasant. Went on fatigue duty at 5 a.m. The rebels shell us all day. One burst over my head. We were paid off at 10 o’clock p.m.
April 29th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. washed my clothes in the afternoon. The rebels shelled our men who were on fatigue duty and pieces came into our camp.
April 30th—Cloudy all day. Orderly for Major General [Fitz John] Porter. Firing of shell in the afternoon.

May 1st—Showery in the morning. Company drill in the afternoon. Sharp firing of cannon at night.
May 2nd—Cloudy in the morning. Pleasant & warm in the afternoon. Went on fatigue duty at 5 a.m. We threw up breastworks in a large peach orchard and the rebels threw shell every few minutes in the morning and occasionally in the afternoon. They fell all around us but no one was hurt.
May 3rd—Very pleasant. Company drill in the morning. At night the rebels commenced shelling us and kept it up until 2 o’clock in the morning. A piece went through the Adjutant’s tent.
May 4th—We were called up at 3:30 o’clock in the morning to go on picket. When we got out there we soon found out the rebels had evacuated. We went to the fort and Col. Gove raised the Stars & Stripes. We had 4 wounded as we advanced to the fort and 4 killed and two wounded when we got into the fort by torpedo shell which were placed in the ground. We returned to camp at 3 o’clock p.m. Pleasant.

Colonel Gove was the first Union officer over the earthworks at Yorktown and the 22nd Massachusetts the first regiment to plant its colors.

May 5th—Very stormy all day. The Brigade was ordered out at dark. Went to Fort Magruder and stayed all night in the rain without blankets. Numerous reports during the day and night in regard to the army.
May 6th—Pleasant. Came back to camp at 10 a.m. Packed knapsacks and left at noon for the Fort Magruder. Col.’s orderly at night.
May 7th—Pleasant. The regiment was called out at 10 a.m. and stacked arms and waited until 10 p.m. and then went down to the wharf and laid in the road all night.
May 8th—Pleasant. Went aboard the boat at 11 a.m. and arrived opposite West Point at 7 p.m. & landed at 8 p.m. I am sick.
May 9th—Pleasant. Marched a little further and made a camp. Saw the wounded that were in the battle on this ground.
May 10th—Pleasant and warm. Laid in the tent all day sick. Brigade drill in the afternoon.
May 11th—Pleasant Sunday. Went in bathing.
May 12th—Pleasant.
May 13th—Very warm and pleasant. Reveille at 3 o’clock. Left West Point at 6 a.m. for Cumberland. arrived there at 7 p.m. One man died on the march.
May 14th—Cloudy all day with some rain. Reviewed by the Secretary of State [Seward] and General McClellan.
May 15th—Rained very hard all day. Packed up in the morning and moved two miles in the afternoon.
May 16th—Cloudy in the morning. Col’s orderly. Marched at 10 a.m. for the White House. Arrived there at 2 p.m.
May 17th—Very pleasant. Washed my clothes and went in bathing. Inspection in the morning & afternoon.
May 18th—Pleasant. Inspection in the morning and afternoon.
May 19th—Rained in the morning. Left White House Landing for Tunstall’s Station at 6:30 a.m. Arrived there at 4 p.m. and pitched our new tents.
May 20th—Pleasant all day. A shower at night.
May 21st—Pleasant. Marched at 6:30 a.m. and went 5 miles.
May 22nd—Very hot. A shower in the afternoon. Marched at 6 a.m. and went to Kidd’s Mills, a distance of 9 miles.
May 23rd—Pleasant & hot. Almost sick.
May 24th—Rained all day, On provost guard at night.
May 25th—Sunday. Very pleasant.
May 26th—Pleasant. Marched at 6:30 in the morning and went to Gaines Hill—a distance of 4 miles from Kidd’s Mill.
May 27th—Rained very hard until 11 o’clock a.m. Marched at 5 o’clock and went 18 miles to Hanover Court House. Had a battle. Whipped the rebels and drove them back to Richmond and took a great number prisoners. Saw our dead on the field for the first time.
May 28th—Pleasant. Went into the woods in the morning and counted 15 dead rebels. Went out 5 miles reconnoitering at 10 a.m. and then returned.
May 29th—Pleasant. Left Hanover Court House at 1 p.m. and went back to camp.
May 30th—Pleasant in the morning. A thunder shower in the afternoon and very sharp lightning until midnight. Two men were struck. One was killed in the 44th New York.
May 31st—Cloudy all day. Heavy firing heard during the day.

June 1st—Called up at 4 o’clock, 3 days rations given us. Struck tents, packed knapsacks, and went out about 1 mile and stopped until 2 p.m. and then returned to camp and put up tents again. Firing heard nearly all day. Very warm and pleasant.
June 2nd—Very hot. Showers in the night. Henry Galigan died.
June 3rd—Very hot and commenced raining at 5:30 p.m. Went out on picket on the banks of the Chickahominy [river].
June 5th—Cloudy all day. Dress parade. At night an order was read from General McClellan that if we were successful in the coming battle, the rebels would give up or words to that effect.
June 6th—Cloudy with showers. We were up cooking until one o’clock at night.
June 7th—Showers in the afternoon. The regiment went out on fatigue duty, Saw a man in Company D shoot his finger off.
June 8th—Pleasant all day. Sunday.
June 9th—Pleasant. Rained during the night.
June 10th—Rained in the morning. Cloudy in the afternoon.
June 11th—Pleasant.
June 12th—Pleasant. Worked in the cook house until 2 o’clock at night. Left Gaines’ Mills at 8 o’clock and went down the Chickahominy 4 miles and went on fatigue duty.
June 13th—Pleasant & hot. Left at 3 p.m. and went back to Gaines’ Mills. Worked in the cook house until 2:30 o’clock at night.
June 14th—Pleasant and very warm. The regiment was ordered to be ready to march at 2 o’clock but the order was countermanded. Had a pair of pants. Wm. R. Macomber died.
June 15th—Pleasant. Sunday. Up cooking at night.
June 16th—Pleasant. The regiment out on picket.
June 17th—Pleasant.
June 18th—Pleasant. The regiment was called up at 11 p.m. and went out to Mechanicsville.
June 19th—Went out with the teams at 9 a.m. & came back to camp at 2 p.m. Pleasant.
June 20th—Pleasant. Left Gaines’ Mills at 7 o’clock and went two miles further towards Richmond. The rebs commenced shelling our teams at 9 o’clock and hit some of them and killed one man.
June 21st—Pleasant. The company came off guard. I left the cook house. Had a blouse.
June 22nd—Pleasant and warm. Sunday. Went to meeting in the morning to the 4th U. S. Infantry Protestant Episcopal Church.
June 23rd—Heavy showers in the afternoon and at night. Company drill in the morning.
June 24th—Cloudy nearly all day. Company drill in the morning. We were called up at 2:30 a.m.
June 25th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. Charles Jones came back from Taunton.
June 26th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. We were called up at 2:30 a.m. and went out to Mechanicsville at 12:30 p.m. The battle commenced at 4:30 p.m. We had two men killed and one wounded. Were posted near the battlefield at night on picket. Quite cold at night.
June 27th—Pleasant. Started back towards camp at 4 a.m. and got our knapsacks and went to the Chickahominy and took our position in line of battle. The rebels came up at 2:30 p.m. and the battle commenced, we repulsed them 4 times and held our position until 5 p.m. when they were reinforced by Gen. “Stonewall” Jackson and broke our lines. We formed a new line and crossed the river during the night. Nearly half of the regiment were killed, wounded or taken prisoners. Col. [Gove] killed.

Battle of Gaines’ Mill—The regiment spent most of the battle in reserve. At the end of the day the Union line broke and the 22nd Massachusetts was outflanked and forced to fall back. It lost 71 men killed, 86 wounded and 177 captured out of the 750 engaged, its heaviest loss of the war. Colonel Gove and Captain John Dunning were killed and Major William S. Tilton was wounded in the shoulder and captured. Lieutenant Colonel Griswold was absent sick, so Captain Walter S. Sampson took command.


June 28th—Pleasant. arched at 1 p.m. and crossed Bottom Bridge and camped for the night. False alarm at night. rained at night.
June 29th—Pleasant. Sunday. Marched about 3 miles and stayed in the woods during the day. Troops were passing all day. Moved one mile. At night there were two alarms. There was a skirmish here in the morning.
June 30th—Pleasant & very warm. Started on our march at 4:30 a.m. and went nearly to James River. There was a battle in the afternoon. We were in line but were not engaged.

July 1st—Pleasant. Stayed in the battlefield in the morning at 11:30 p.m. We took our position in line of battle and at 2 p.m. the battle commenced with artillery. At 5 p.m. the infantry were engaged. At 5 p.m. the 22nd went in and gave the rebels 60 rounds. Lost during the fight about 50 killed and wounded. At 9 p.m. all firing ceased. At 10 p.m. started down the James River. Marched all night.

Battle of Malvern Hill—The regiment supported a battery of the 5th United States Artillery, losing 9 men killed, 41 wounded and 8 captured.


July 2nd—Rained very hard all day. Arrived at Harrison’s Landing at 11 a.m. A very stormy night. Scarcely any sleep. Laid in the mud with [no] blankets or tent.
July 3rd—Cloudy. The rebels commenced shelling us at 9 a.m. The whole army were in lines of battle and we captured two of the rebel pieces of artillery and several prisoners. We moved into the woods and camped. Simmonds came back from Alexandria.
July 4th—Pleasant. Expected to be reviewed by Gen. McClellan but were not but by Gen. Martindale. Very quiet in camp, A few salutes were fired.
July 5th—Pleasant. All quiet.
July 6th—Pleasant. Sunday. Company went on guard.
July 7th—Pleasant. Very warm. Went in bathing at night. Had new blankets &c.
July 8th—Pleasant. Went in bathing.
July 9th—Pleasant. went in bathing. Company drill in the morning.
July 10th—Showery in the afternoon. Company drill in the morning. Inspection at night.
July 11th—Cloudy all day with some rain. Inspection at night.
July 12th—Pleasant. Inspection in the morning & afternoon.
July 13th—Pleasant. Sunday. All quiet.
July 14th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning.
July 15th—Pleasant & hot. A very hard shower at night. Went down to the Landing in the morning. On guard.
July 16th—Pleasant with a storm at night. We were mustered for pay.
July 17th—Pleasant with a very hard shower at night. Company drill morning and afternoon.
July 18th—Cloudy all day. Company drill in the morning. Almost sick.
July 19th—Cloudy all day. Brought water at the cook house.
July 20th—Pleasant. Sunday.
July 21st—Pleasant. Had our tents. Company drill.
July 22nd—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning.
July 23rd—Cloudy in the afternoon. Moved and went down to the Landing. went on guard at night.
July 24th—Pleasant. Came off guard.
July 25th—Pleasant. reviewed by Generals McClellan & Porter at 9 o’clock a.m. Orderly for the Colonel at night.
July 26th—Pleasant and warm. Orderly for the Colonel. Shower at night.
July 27th—Pleasant. Sunday. Went in bathing in morning.
July 28th—Pleasant. Company drill in morning. Inspection at night with knapsacks. Roll call with equipments & gun. Paid off.
July 29th—Pleasant. Brought water at the cook house. Company drill in the morning. Went over to see James Wady. He is very sick.
July 30th—Pleasant. Company drill in the morning. Went on guard at night. Wrote a letter for James Wady.
July 31st—Cloudy with some rain. Sick at night. The rebels commenced shelling us from across the river at 12 o’clock at night.

August 1st—Pleasant. Went to the Dr. in the morning. Sick. Stayed in tent all day.
August 2nd—Sick in tent all day.
August 3rd—Rained in the morning. Sunday. Sick.
August 4th—Pleasant, Went doen to Westover Landing on guard at night and came back as 12 o’clock. Paid off.
August 5th—Pleasant & very hot. Orderly for the Colonel at night.
August 6th—Pleasant. The prisoners came back from Richmond. Under marching orders.
August 7th—Pleasant & very hot.
August 8th—Pleasant. Orderly for the Colonel at night. My box came from home.
August 9th—Very warm.
August 10th—Showers at night. Sunday, Had orders to be ready to march at 12 o’clock. Sent our knapsacks off.
August 11th—Pleasant. Went on guard at night.
August 12th—Very hot. Showers towards night. Guard. Were relieved at Westover.
August 13th—Pleasant. Went down bathing at night.
August 14th—Pleasant. went on guard at night. Left Harrison’s Landing at 10 p.m. and marched all night.
August 15th—Marched all days and crossed the Chickahominy at sunset and camped for the night.
August 16th—Pleasant. Marched at 7 a.m. and went to Williamsburg and camped for the night.
August 17th—Pleasant. Marched at 6 a.m. and went to Yorktown. Sunday.
August 18th—Pleasant. Marched at 5 a.m. and went within one mile of Hampton Village.
August 19th—Pleasant. Left Hampton at 7 a.m. and went to Newport News.
August 20th—Pleasant. Went on board the boat at 6 a.m. Sailed down the river. Made a short stop at Fortress Monroe and then started up the Potomac.
August 21st—Landed at Aquia Creek at 10 a.m. and took the cars and went to Fredericksburg. Pleasant & very warm. At night it rained.
August 22nd—Moved at 10 a.m. and went about 1 mile to a new camp again at 5 p.m. and marched nearly all night. Pleasant.
August 23rd—A shower in the afternoon. Marched all day and stopped about 5 miles from the Rappahannock River,
August 24th—Pleasant and cold night. Sunday. Went out on picket at 7 a.m. Marched again at 2 p.m. and went about 7 miles and camped for the night.
August 25th—Pleasant. Left camp at 7 a.m. and went about two miles, halted in the road 2 hours, and then went back in our old camp ground.
August 26th—Pleasant. Left camp at 6 a.m. and crossed the ford.
August 27th—Left the ford where the fight was a few days before and marched at 6 a.m. and went to Warrenton Junction.
August 28th—Extremely hot. A little shower in the afternoon. Left the junction at 4 a.m. and went down the railroad to where the fight was the day before and camped for the night.
August 29th—Pleasant. Left in the morning and went down to Manassas Junction. Met the rebels and had an artillery fight. We supported a battery. The regiment was on picket at night.
August 30th—Pleasant. Left in the morning and marched in the rear of Griffin’s Brigade to Centreville. Started for the battlefield of Bull Run at 5 p.m. where the rest of the Brigade was. Were stopped on the road and went back to Centreville at 9 p.m.
August 31st—Rained very hard in the morning. Cloudy in the afternoon. Rained a little at night. Sunday, Saw many wounded soldiers during the day. Moved about 1 mile at noon. Expected battle in the afternoon.

September 1st—Pleasant, Under arms all day expecting at attack. Commenced moving at 10 o’clock at night. A shower at night.
September 2nd—Pleasant. Left Centreville at 4 a.m., marched through Fairfax, stopped about 2 miles beyond Leesburg Turnpike at night.
September 3rd—Pleasant. Marched at 7 a.m. and arrived on Hall’s Hill at 3 p.m.
September 4th—Pleasant. Our pickets were driven in and we were called out but were not needed.
September 5th—Pleasant. All quiet in camp. Firing heard in the afternoon.
September 6th—Pleasant. We were mustered in the afternoon. Orders to march at 9 p.m. but did not until 2 o’clock in the morning.
September 7th—Pleasant. Sunday. S. E. Raymond and I did not leave camp until daylight. Saw J. Young at Ball’s Cross Roads and he went along with us. Went through Washington. Stopped 3 hours and then marched to Tinleytown and stopped for the night.
September 8th—Pleasant. Started for Rockville at 6 a.m. and marched within two miles of the village.
September 9th—Pleasant. Marched at 5 a.m. and went to Rockville and learned that the Division was on Arlington Heights. Marched back and got to the regiment at 4 p.m. Were mustered at 5 p.m.
September 10th—Pleasant. A little shower at night. Remained in camp all day.
September 11th. Cloudy all day and rained very hard at night. Had our knapsacks. Received James Wady’s box. Had an overcoat & pair of socks and did not [get] receipt for them.
September 12th—Pleasant. The regiment left at 8 p.m. and crossed the river. I was left behind.
September 13th—Pleasant. Washed my pants.
September 14th—Pleasant. Left at 9 a.m. and went to Fairfax Seminary Hospital.
September 15th—Pleasant. Examined by the surgeon at noon and sent to the Convalescent Camp near Fort Ellsworth. Left the hospital at 3 p.m.
September 16th—Cloudy in the afternoon. Rained at night. Remained in camp all day.
September 17th—Cloudy.
September 18th—Pleasant and hot. Went up into the city in the morning.
September 19th—Pleasant. Went to the Dr. in the morning. Fletcher came back from the hospital.
September 20th—Cloudy all day.
September 21st—Pleasant. Sunday.
September 22nd—Pleasant. Went up into the city and remained all day.
September 23rd—Pleasant. Did some washing. Had my hair cut.
September 24th—Cloudy with some rain.
September 25th—Pleasant all day.
September 26th—Pleasant.
September 27th—Pleasant.
September 28th—Pleasant. Sunday. Went up into the city and went to church in the morning.
September 29th—Pleasant.
September 30th—Pleasant. Commenced bedding with Fletcher.

October 1st—Pleasant.
October 2nd—-Pleasant. Sick at night.
October 3rd—Pleasant. Not very well.
October 4th—Pleasant. Very windy. Some rain at night. Washed all my clothes in the afternoon.
October 5th—Pleasant but windy. Sunday. Went up into the city with Fletcher.
October 6h—Pleasant.
October 7th—Pleasant. Fletcher went to the regiment with Sergeant Rock. Sent for my Descriptive List.
October 8th—Pleasant. Pealed a little.
October 9th—Pleasant.
October 10th—Pleasant. Rained in the night.
October 11th—Cloudy and cold.

[No substantive entries until November 7, 1862]

November 7th—Snowed all day and very cold.
November 8th—Pleasant in the morning. Cloudy and cold in the afternoon.
November 9th—Pleasant but very cold. Went to the surgeons in the morning with rheumatism. Sunday. Went to meeting in the afternoon in the open air.
November 10th—Very pleasant. Sick with headache and sore mouth.
November 18th—Cloudy with some rain. Sent to Fairfax Seminary Hospital.
November 26th—Pleasant. Sent for my Descriptive List.
December 15th—Left Fairfax Hospital at 9 a.m. Went to Alexandria. Took the cars and arrived at Philadelphia City 6:30 next morning.
December 16th—Stormy in the morning. Went to the U.S.A. General Hospital in west Philadelphia in the afternoon.

[The balance of his diary, running through July 1863, indicates that he spent time in various eastern hospitals.]








1861-63: John Boultwood Edson Letters, 27th NYS Vols

I could not find an image of John but here is one of Joseph Seavey who also served in the 27th New York Infantry. Seavey was killed on 27 June 1862 in the Battle of Gaines Mills.

These 44 Civil War letters were written by John Boultwood Edson (1839-1863), the son of Elijah Edson (1812-1878) and Achsah Edna Wright (1818-1905) of Rochester, New York.

John enlisted as a private on 7 May 1861 to serve two years in Co. E, 27th New York Infantry. He mustered out with the company on 31 May 1863 at Elmira, N. Y. Although some sources say that John “died in the service in December 1863,” I can’t find any evidence that he reenlisted unless he happened to go to California to bring mules back East as mentioned in the final letter.

Other family members mentioned in John’s letters include his sister Miriam Crane (Edson) Clements (1841-1891), who became the wife of Thomas Clements (1839-1902) in 1862. Albert H. Edson (1842-1863) who served in Co. Am 8th New York Cavalry until he was mortally wounded in the Battle of Gettysburg on 1 July 1863. Harriet (“Hatt.”) E. Edson (1832-Unk)

Letter 1

[Elmira, New York]
Sunday, May 19, [1861]

Dear Mother,

A I have finished a few lines to Ben, I thought I would say something in regard to my things that I left behind. My ink has run out so will be compelled to use the pencil. I have been to church this forenoon & remained to class meeting which was as interesting a one as I ever attended, there bring several volunteers present. I wish I could have some collars—straight ones—sent me as in probability we shall remain some time. Tell Father to try some of the boys & see if he could not get me a Wide-Awake cape. Some of the boys in Woodbury’s have them. He could for a very little sum. Should like to have another fine shirt.

Please send me a stick of that sticking plaster & a paper of peruvian bark. Capt. Wanzer [told] me again that I would pass. It was announced this morning that all the companies would leave this week for some distant post & I will not be back in the state until the end of 3 months which time they are sworn into the service of the United Sates. [ ] quite sick. The other day had a very bad diarrhea caused by the change of water. Everyone more or less has been affected with it.

Our fare is some better than at first. I feel very sleepy on account of having been on guard last evening. Whenever you wish to send anything to me you can do so by express free of charge no matter how small or large. Address John B. Edson, Elmira, N. Y., Care of Capt. Geo. Wanzer, Independent Zouaves


Letter 2

Headquarters Elmira [N. Y.]
May 24th [1861]

Dear Father,

As I will have an opportunity of sending a few lines free of expense, I will give you a little more in respect to my life here. I have had pretty easy times as yet but tomorrow we are to drill from 10 a.m. until half past 1 p.m. and from 3 until 6 p.m., then from 8 until 9 in the evening so that will tell on a man if anything will. I’m ready for it, however, and will not [ ] as long as I’m able to stand upon my feet. I’ve had the misfortune to have the knife you gave me stolen and consequently am without a necessary article for a soldier’s equipment. I do not tell you this because I want you to send one—not by any means.

The Rochester Regiment re expecting every moment to receive marching orders. They have received their uniforms and equipments. They expect to be sent to Fort Monroe, Va.

I learned with great regret of Col. Ellsworth’s death while leading on his brave and undaunted men to the capture of one of the principal cities near our Capitol. But his death will only make another & still finer fire burn in the breast of every true patriot. May God protect that heroic band which when the incendiary flames were seething & hissing around one of the finest of buildings in the Empire City, counted death nothing compared with frustrating the designs of traitors. And now we behold those led by their noble leader who falls while the shout of victory rings in his ears.

There is one regiment yet to receive their uniforms, then comes our turn. We have had one case of the diphtheria in our midst but the prospects will now [page missing?].

I hope you try and send me those things that I mentioned in my last—the Wide-Awake cape especially for I will need one when on guard duty out of doors. I went down to see our barracks this afternoon and found it a pretty hard looking place. The drill ground—or what will be the same—is very stoney & consequently will be very hard on our feet. We are still in Schull’s Hall, Water Street. Will leave on Monday for our barracks. I shall try and come home and see you all before I go if possible—not without my uniform however. I would like a little money as I will have to get a shirt done up once a week at the least and my being sick took some of what I had when leaving which was not much, as you know. However, I can hardly bear to speak of it & will try and get along without any if possible.

It is getting very near time for our prayer meeting and I must close. I can’t tell the reason why I do not hear from you. I have written several times but do receive no answers. How is it? You spoke of your work being very hard. I knew from the first that you would not like it. But that’s not the question. Uncle James said he was going to Rochester in a few days. I hope you will tell him just your condition. Do not work hard. Take it easy. Men do not expect a man to kill himself or to overdo while in their employ, but what am I saying (trying to advise one what has had the experience you have).

I hope you will take care of yourself. Remember me to all my friends. I ever will remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson

Letter 3

Headquarters, Elmira, [N. Y.]
[June 1861]

Dear Mother,

Mrs. Blackford is waiting at the door, or rather passing through. She desired me to send a few lines to you. I hardly know what to say.

We came into barracks yesterday morning. Our sleeping apartments are first rate considering a soldier’s life is so rough. We are to be mustered in tomorrow.

Tell Albert I shall remember him when far away.

As soon as I get my uniform, I shall try and obtain a furlough for a day or two. The package you sent by our Sergeant came safe. I received it last [night]. Tell Albert I will write to him soon. Also Emeline. So goodbye for awhile.

Your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 4

Headquarters
Elmira Barracks No St Com E. of Union Dpt.
June 22, [1861]

Dear Father,

I received a letter from you yesterday. In it you stated not having received a letter from me for over a week. I have written two or three to persons around there—one to Fanny, one to Em. Semms so you could heard through them of me. My health is none of the best but considering the general health of our company, I do pretty well. We have some 7 or 8 under the physician’s care. The measles are going through the regiment, taking old and young. There have two men died in our regiment since we’ve been in barracks. The Oswego Regiment [ ] was sworn into the service of the U. S. today. They received their uniforms yesterday and a first one it is in comparison to the one of the Rochester Regiment.

I received the parcel you sent me ad it was very acceptable I can assure you. I’m going to try and go home the latter part of next week if possible—that is, if I get my uniform & pay.

Our new quarters are very pleasant. The race course where the celebrated horse Florence Temple won her laurels is close by. The [Chemung] river runs in the rear of our quarters—a fine bathing place. If you go down East, stop here on your way there. I guess you could or would it be out of your road?

We have started the prayer meetings again and I’m in hopes they will continue. If you have any things to send me, I will try and pat the Express charges, if they are not over 50 cents. I may have some money by the time you wish to send it. Our officers have deceived us in respect to our uniform & pay. The Rochester Regiment fares badly [missing page?]

…had to put up with. We are to have the same but they have not made their appearance yet. They are in the town. Our Colonel told us we might expect them [uniforms] so as to appear at dress parade Sunday evening. I very much doubt it, however. Our pay has not come yet. No knowing when it will come, the Major pledged his word we should have it today sure, but nary bit have we seen.

Our company was told to proceed to the Doctor’s room & be vaccinated. I did not go but suppose I will have to go as it is an imperative order and must be obeyed. The boys were going to see if our Captain will try and have us in Rochester on the 4th of July and show our proficiency in drill. I hardly think we will be here on the fourth, Gen. Van Valkenburgh having received a telegram to hurry off all the regiments now here as fast as possible within 20 days so it may be we will be in the Capitol of our nation before the fourth.

Give my respects to Homer Aylesworth and the boys there. Tell Emeline to write and Albert especially. I shall not write any more if I don’t get an answer more punctually. How does Em get along with her school? I received a letter from Will M_____ the other day. Tell Em that I wrote to P____the other week. If she sees him, tell him to answer it right away or prepare for a storm when I see him. I must close as I want to get this in the office this evening.

P. S. Go and see Ben Swift and tell him to answer my letter. I have never received a word from mine. He does not stick to his agreement. My love to all enquiring friends. I remain as ever, your son. — [J. B. Edson]

Letter 5

[On the eve of the Battle of First Bull Run]

In camp 5 Miles beyond Fairfax Court House 
and within 2 Miles of the Rebel Batteries
July 20th [1861]

My Dear parents,

I’m writing this under peculiar trials and circumstances as I’m seated in one of the camp wagons trying to write to you, my ever loved and to be loved parents. 

We left Washington last Tuesday afternoon at 4 o’clock. The order for marching came very suddenly. We marched until 11 o’clock that night to a place 11 miles from Fairfax, there encamped until the next morning at 7 when we started on and such a march it beggars description—one of the hottest days I ever saw, if not the hottest. Men [were] falling out of the ranks at every step exhausted. I stood it until the last when men who had worked in the harvest fields at home in the morning said said if they had had another mile to march, should have dropped in the road. The rebels having poisoned several wells and destroyed others made it very bad for us.

We arrived at Fairfax at two o’clock. We expected to find a large secession force there but they had eloped. Consequently we were disappointed. We stayed in Fairfax from 12 o’clock of that day until 4 o’clock of the next day. We lived on the spoils taken from the secessionists. While there the boys took their guns and shot chickens, geese, pigs and even bullocks. One party went to a farmer’s house some two miles off and found 7 bottles of wine, pies, cakes, &c. No one at home. Fairfax was a deserted hole.

Started at 4 o’clock for this camp where we arrived at 7 o’clock [and] set our picket guard that night. That was a night indeed to me. I can assure you, I laid down upon the ground with a blanket over me [and] it commenced raining soon after and I was wet through. About 12 o’clock we were awakened by the firing upon our pickets. We all jumped up and seized our arms. During that hour volley after volley came pouring in. Such a sight! Men standing whispering to one another. Our Colonel came around and told us to lie down by our guns which we did only to be awakened by another alarm.

While I’m writing I hear the artillery booming in the distance towards the rebels’ batteries. I suppose you have heard of the battle on the 18th [see Battle of Blackburn’s Ford]. It was a small affair [paper creased] troops they having to retreat. The Colonel who led them on did so contrary to the orders of Scott. We lost some two hundred men. Gen. Scott is expected to be here this evening to plan the attack. It is this—to shell the batteries, then pour in shot until they are burned out, then bring on the infantry and give them the bayonet. We are waiting now for the shells to come on so we can proceed wit hthe battle. There will be severe fighting. We will in all probability be in Richmond some time next week. Our Colonel told our Orderly when he asked him for a sword that he would scarcely need one for we would all be home in three weeks. I tell you, it is tough. We will have all of Virginia in our possession before another month. I hope I shall live to see you all again. I often think of home and all its comforts. Tell all my friends if they write to direct to Washington.

John B. Edson, Company E, 27th Regt. N. Y. S. V., Washington D. C.

I wrote to you when in Washington but have received no answer. I will get it if you write. I have received no money yet. Probably will not until we are again in Washington. Let me know how you are getting along and what the people think of the movement of the army in Virginia. I hope to see you before many months are passed. It is very warm today. My love to all. Ever your affectionate son, — J. B. E.


Letter 6

Camp Anderson
Washington D. C.
July 25th [1861]

My dear sister Hattie,

After the eventful scenes of Sunday last, my mind is much disturbed. I have no appetite for the trash that is presented to us. If you had been anywhere near to have perceived our army as it wended its way through the streets of Washington—it was raining very hard & had been for some time. My jacket I threw away as an encumbrance just before entering the battlefield. O! such a scene. It baffles description. But I’m not sorry. The 27th [New York] Regiment has established a name that will live in history. They, next to the Fire Zouaves of New York, are warm in the hearts of the citizens of Rochester.

The evening of our arrival, Ladies flocked around and with their kindness and attention, ministered to our wants. The Ladies of this place give me a supper this evening.

I can hardly realize that I’m in the land of the living when thinking of that hour. There is a feeling of thankfulness comes over me.

Johnny Clague told me why lying on the field that he was glad the victory was ours. Poor boy. He little thought before the time the afternoon was over we would be on the retreat. He died nobly, cool and collected as if on parade. I was with him all the time until the rebels fired into the house where he was but he died before they had time to torture his body further.

I’m trying to obtain a furlough of a week’s respite to recruit my strength. I hope I may succeed. Give my love to Anna M. I often think of her, and all my friends. Has Father found work yet and where? Get Ann’s and your likeness and send them to me and oblige.

Your brother, — J B. Edson

Tell Ben Swift I will write him in a few days.


Letter 7

Camp Anderson, Washington D. C.
August 2nd 1861

My dear Sister,

I received a letter from you, Mother & Annie last evening as I was preparing to send some money $10 in gold by our Lieut. [Charles S.] Baker. He is to leave it at Mr. Blackford’s with Albert. He will deliver it to Father. You can tell him that I received $15 only. I send him 10 as I would probably lose it if I had it with me.

My mind is so confused this morning that I can hardly write at all. There is one thing I wish you and the rest of our folks to understand—also my friends—that I wish no more of my letters to be published or any extracts of them. If I see any more of them in any of the papers, I shall immediately cease writing. I’m not joking now. It is not very pleasant for me. You do as I tell you and all will be well.

Your letter came just in time as I had began to have the blues. The letter I received last night from you was the only one I received from home since I returned from Bulls Run. I expect every day to hear of the order for the Grand Army to proceed across the river again under the command of a man though younger in years than our former one, understands his business a great deal better, and one who will lead us to victory. We never will return but with victory perched upon upon our banner. You never heard of victory being achieved when contending against such odds. 18,000 men engaging 80,000 and they behind batteries concealed and manned with rifled cannons. But I have said enough on this subject.

You wished to know whether John Clague (all honor be to his memory) died contented with his fate, or rather, did he die a christian. I was with him the most of the time which he lived after he fell. I thought of speaking to him on the subject, but he was in too much agony—his pain being intense. You could touch him no place just what it seemed to torture him. God, I trust, has taken care of him. 1

Tell Annie I will surely write her within two days. I have been very unwell for the last 3 or 4 days having had the neuralgia in my face. Have you seen Bill Lockhart since the fight at Bulls Run? I don’t believe I will be able to go home. If my health does not improve enough by the time we have to march again, I will apply for an honorable discharge. Our [Colonel] will in all probability be elected to a Brigadier Generalship. His name has appeared first on the list for that post. You no doubt saw a piece in the paper (the [Rochester Evening] Express) about him. Oh! he is a noble man.

I should like to see home before I go into another engagement as I have a strong presentiment if in another engagement, I shall not escape. I often think of Annie McMillan. I thought of her once on the field of battle. Would I be saying too much, Em, if I should say it was love. But it is really so—she is a lovely girl both in looks and disposition. But as you say, there is no chance for me there. Dare you question her on such a subject? Give her my love.

Tell Albert to write to me immediately. Goodbye. God bless you.

1 Apparently God did take care of him. He was taken prisoner after the Battle of Bull Run and was among those 240 prisoners released from Richmond, Virginia, on January 3, 1862 and conveyed to Fortress Monroe for exchange. Other members of the 27th New York who were among these prisoners released included Solomon Wood, A. H. Cornell, P. Flarity, Charles Hunt, G. L. Mudge, V. Mudge, W. P. Smith, J. McAulay, G. F. Jewett, J. C. Fowler, C. A. Durnell, J. Chamberlain, H. P. Boyd, T. J. Briggs, J. Borden, W. P. Smith, C. Tucker, W. Trall, Ed Watrous, E. H. Warner, T. H. Yates, John Hogan, W. H. Merrill, H. Gerrick, and possible others.


Letter 8

Camp Vernon
Alexandria, Virginia
August 23, 1861

My dear sister Hat.,

I received your kind letter of the 18th a few moments ago & proceed as to answer it. Always be as punctual as I am & you will hear often from me—that is, as far as I am able to write a person. In regard to my health, it never was better. While away from the confinement of city life as we had while in Washington. I enjoy the highest of heaven’s blessings—good health.

With the blue waters of the Potomac in front of us & the healthful breezes of the ocean to fan our over-heated brows, we cannot complain much except when it rains hard. Our company was out on picket guard Monday and all Monday night. This is dangerous business & to put the climax on the thing, at, or rather in the eve about 8 o’clock after our guard had been set for the first part of the night (which was from 8 o’clock until one, I was on the same), it commenced to rain—and such a rain I never wish to see again much less to be out in. There was a brook close by which swelled to such an extent as to overflow the banks on either side. I was on the opposite side guarding the junction of two roads—one leading to Fairfax Court House and the other to Richmond. I saw if I did not cross then, I should not be able to that night so we plunged in, not thinking how deep it was. The consequence was a fine ducking. Then had to spend the rest of the night shivering like so many dogs. No one knows except those who are out here what we had to undergo that night.

I have just finished my dinner which consisted of boiled fat bacon & bread & water & some [ ] meal with a little something. Oh dear, I’m getting so fleshy—oh yes.

We are expecting an attack every day now. Our pickets have been driven in several times & we have destroyed the bridge crossing Hunter’s Creek in order to detain their coming across. They will meet with a warm reception. Our brigade had a sham battle in the presence of Gen. McClellan & staff. He is a young man & has an eagle’s eye. He is rising with fame/ Remember he is the hero of Western Virginia having never lost a battle while there. You will hear of him soon. Also of the Bloody 27th Regiment.

I have some news for you. There are five New York regiments to return home to recruit. We have every reason to expect our regiment is included in those five. It may be 3 or four weeks before we start as the government will wait until she has more troops to take our place. They are coming on by the thousands every day. We may me in Elmira very soon. If so, I will surely go home (what a delightful [ ]).

How often do I think of home, the dearest spot of earth. I want you to write and let me know how or what kind of a term you had at Mrs. Lockhart’s & if it was the German Society or the Asbury. How I wish you and Bell could be with each other oftener than you do. She has the best disposition of any one I know of. Give her my respects when you see her. Also to her mother.

Has Mr. Clague heard from [his son] John since Mr. Merrill’s letter?

The next time you write, send a postage stamp as I have no money. Yours as ever. Your brother, — J. B. Edson


Letter 9

[near Washington D. C.]
[September 1861]

Dear sister Hat.,

Can you excuse a dirty piece of paper. I have no other. You say write a long letter but what shall I write? I know of nothing new. It is you who ought to write a long letter instead of me. There is very little of importance doing near us now with the exception of the erection of the new fort [Fort Lyon] which will be on a larger scale of any in this direction if the Rebels do not take it into their head to rout us out before we finish it, but we would like nothing better than to have them come. What a licking they would get. Excuse the phrase of course.

I was talking with a very wealthy man the other day when on picket duty who has been within a few days within the Rebel lines. He says they are in a desperate condition. A common sack of salt that will sell in Washington for $1.50, cost $7 dollars there. They cannot go so long if they happen to take any of our men prisoners, they strip them of their clothing & put their rags upon them. This man says he is perfectly satisfied that the government will succeed in crushing this rebellion.

So you see the stars and stripes must & shall wave over the land of the slave. Tell Annie McMillan I never expect to hear from her & have given up entirely. She surely could find 10 minutes to write. I don’t care how badly written and all this so I get one. It must be a long one, however, to pay up for waiting so long. Tell Fanny to write me a letter. I wrote Salone a letter and enclosed it in one to Father and you must have received it ere this.

I must close. Write soon. My love to all enquiring friends—Mr. & Mrs. Jackson in particular. I will try and write him a letter soon.

As ever, your brother, — J. B. Edson


Letter 10

Headquarters Army of the Potomac
September 20th [1861]

Dear Father,

I received yours of the 15th yesterday & will today try and answer it. In the first place, you must not look too close at the piece of paper I’m scribbling on as it is all I have in the world. Not having received our pay yet, it is rather hard for me so if you should not hear from me as often as you desire, do not censure me for if I had the means you should hear from me at the least twice a week. Every other regiment in our brigade have been paid and we know not the reason why they should delay ours so long. I shall enclose this in a franked envelope, not knowing whether it will reach its destination, or as I believe I told you in my last letter that we were hourly expecting an attack, but as yet have had no engagement with the enemy.

The new fort [Fort Lyon] I spoke of in my last is in progress of erection. It is to cover 17 acres of ground & mount 100 guns. It will command 3 roads leading in the following directions—Fairfax Court House, Richmond, and Mount Vernon. Today was the day Gen. Beauregard told his men they should have a fight and march on Washington, but no demonstration of the kind has yet been made.

Our new rifles are a great acquisition to the boys. I’ve made some excellent shots with mine. I’m longing to have another turn at the Rebels now we have such a death dealing weapon. I shot at an object a foot and a quarter square 150 yards distant and put the ball through it. I shall try and take it home with me. I’m living in hopes that this struggle will terminate this winter so that next spring I may be home for good. There is a good prospect of it. While I’m writing I hear they are fighting in Missouri. The report came today that our forces last lost 800 men & the Rebels 4,000.

I was sorry to learn that you were out of work. If you were in Washington Navy Yard, I rather think you could get all the work you would wish for. They are very busy. When I was in Washington, I went all through the machine shops. It was very interesting. Can you not afford to send me a paper at least 3 in a week—that is, if you take any now. If you haven’t the materials for sending–that is, the wrapping paper—just take the papers down town to Ben Swift with the postage stamps and he will mail them. Tell Ben for me that I think he is not doing the fair thing by me—if he would only write me, I would do my best and try and give him an interesting one in answer to it.

There are times, dear Father, when my spirits are very low and much depressed & must have more letters from home. It has been more than a week since I heard from you or the family until I received the one yesterday. I’m now going to ask a favor of you. It is I’m told today that we will not receive any money until the first of next month. If you could get $3 dollars for me, I will send you six for the same when I get my money. I would not ask it but I sent my shoes—those I got of White before I left Rochester over in Alexandria to get fixed more than two weeks ago. I’m afraid the man will sell them. Also a pair of pants & a shirt to get washed. If you could send it, I will more than double pay you for your trouble. Write soon. As ever your affectionate son, — J. B. E.


Letter 11

Army of the Potomac
October 8th 1861

Dear Father,

Yours of the 5th came safe. Received it this afternoon. I have just returned from picket duty some 8 miles from camp. I was on the outer post. Allowing me to exaggerate, I will say I nearly froze. It was extremely cold. We could not make a fire until daylight as it might be the means of showing the enemy where we were stationed.

This morning a farmer living nearby where we were stationed—a Union man—came and asked two of us to accompany him to Mount Vernon, a mile and a half distant, he having some wheat he wished to bring away & take it to Alexandria to grind. I volunteered at one & in company with a comrade jumped into the wagon with our rifles and ammunition with us. Having arrived near the grounds, we left the man to go for his wheat while we visited the hallowed spot where the mortal remains of the immortal Washington [laid]. The grounds have been left to themselves, having been much neglected. I can tell you I felt proud as I gazed upon the scene and stood upon the same grounds as did the Father of his country. I enclose a leaf that I plucked from a vine that grew over the top of the tomb. It will be a little souvenir of the immortal Washington.

It is reported here in camp that there are 11 regiments to be taken from the Army of the Potomac & sent to Kentucky & that General Slocum’s Brigade is going. It is true that we are soon to leave our present position but where I do not know. You shall hear from me as often as convenient.

I should like to hear from George Carpenter very much. I wrote Miriam the other day but have not yet received an answer. Let me know if Albert has received his horse yet or no & whether the government will furnish it, which of course they ought to.

Remember me to all my friends, I shall send this by a young man who has obtained his discharge on account of ill health, he being consumptive. He will give you a good description of camp life. I remain your affectionate son, — John B. Edson


Letter 12

Camp Franklin
November 8, 1861

Dear Parents,

Your letter of the 3rd inst. arrived this morning & right glad was I to hear from you. I believe I wrote to Emiline on Monday last. Mrs. Barnes arrived some day since. I was disappointed in not getting anything from home. To talk of Scott’s band coming here to the men of this regiment would not be believed by them. We have been disappointed so many times we are almost tired of hearing anything concerning the band.

I was hoping I could get home in time to see Albert before he left for Washington as I have many things to tell him of besides some advice. However, I will see him in Washington. Our regiment expects to get paid tomorrow. If I cannot get a furlough, I will try and send the girls some money. Will do better by them on the next payday. Look at things on their bright side and all will be well. I have many dark days but in God is my trust.

The weather is very changeable & the nights very cold. The days middling comfortable. If the army was on the move, I should like it better as I then should think there would soon be an end to this struggle. I have all confidence in our youthful commander.

In regards to Father getting employment, I should say let him be on the lookout for a chance in some ity like Springfield, Massachusetts. Get acquainted with some of the business men in the city, viz: Rochester. Let him write to Mr. Clark, make enquiries.

In regard to being reconciled to camp life, it is nothing more than I expected to encounter when I enlisted. I wish father would see Ben Swift and ask him as a favor if he will write me. I do not think he is doing right in not letting me know how he is prospering. I have not heard a a word from him since I saw him last in Rochester.

I shall write again in a few days but do not let this deter you from writing immediately on the receipt of this. My love to all. (I am waiting very patiently for those likenesses. When will they come? Echo answers when.)

Yours truly, — J. B. E.

P. S. Please excuse this sheet of paper as I am running short of the same. As ever, your son, — J. B. E.


Letter 13

Camp Franklin, Va.
November 26 [1861]

My dear Mother,

I received a letter from Father and yourself this morning and was truly glad to get it. We have been having some pretty cold weather here for the last few days. Last Sunday eve, or rather night, we had quite a snow storm here, It looked really queer to see snow here so far south.

We have been kept in rather a fretful condition expecting to go to Beaufort, S. C., hearing every little while of orders to that effect. General Slocum is figuring to get his brigade down south.

Father mentioned in his letter of the probable movement of the Army of the Potomac. There is not much said here about it but ever since the review last week we have been expecting something of the kind.

The government does not provide gloves, mittens, or boots for [ ] the soldiers. I have had to get both of this for myself. I’m in hopes I shall be able from next payday to lay up some money. I am sure I can lend my money here in the regiment to good advantage. I do not know how this will meet with your’s & Father’s approbation. If you or Father think I had better send it home and have Father place in someone’s hands who will pay a good interest on it, let me know what you think about it. I should like to have a little money when I get home.

You had better continue to answer my letters & address them Washington as I should [paper torn]. I suppose Albert has by this time left Rochester for Washington. (God speed him!) May he never experience the hardships that I have is my prayer because I know his constitution cannot stand it.

How is it with Lockhart’s folks? I have not heard from them some time. Has Emeline been there lately?

I have been in hopes that we would [go] down to Beaufort as then we should have warmer weather. If we should make any move in [paper torn]..and let you know.

Move love to all. Ever remain your sincere and affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 14

Camp Clara, Va.
[December] 15 [1861]

Dear Sister Hat,

I will again send you a few lines although you do not deserve one for not answering my last. I’m still enjoying good health, thank God.

The weather for the last 3 or 4 days has been splendid. It commenced to rain last evening and the weather since has been very bad. I suppose the folks up North are rejoicing over the late victories at Port Royal and also in Kentucky.

General McClellan reviewed our division yesterday. It was a grand sight, indeed. He appeared in sight with his aides and body guard. The artillery fired a grand salute, then the bands struck up. Just imagine an army of twenty thousand men marching in review. I don’t suppose you can, however.

He—the General—afterwards passed through our camp. Our regiment had all rushed on to the parade ground where they awaited his appearance. When he passed, such shouting and cheering you never heard, I know. I don’t believe there was a man but threw his hat up in the air. As he passed, he gracefully lifted his cap from his hair and bowed (en-militaire) He is the idol of the army. He predicts a speedy termination to this struggle in less than three months.

In regard to getting a furlough, it is utterly out of the question. No man—well man I mean—is or shall be allowed a furlough, so says our General for he says he does not know at what moment he may receive orders to take up the line of march. Our success down soouth will probably call some of Beauregard’s forces away from the Potomac. If so, them McClellan will move on. I rejoice that I am in the service of my country and the prospects so good for having another pass at them & I embrace it willingly.

But what of Albert? I hear nothing of him. I begin to think that the folks are getting tired of writing to me—especially Father and Mother. But I can stand it. If they fo not choose to write, it is all the same to me. I shall not write home again until I get one at least. The money I send enclosed is for yourself. I had hope that I could have sent more but next time will do better. Tell Miriam not to feel hard with me for not sending her some. I sed the photographs to her. Please give my love to all enquiring friends. write immediately on the receipt of this.

As ever your brother, — John B. Edson


Letter 15

Camp Franklin, Virginia
December 18, 1861

Dear Father,

It is now more than a week since—yes, ten days since—I have heard from home. How is this? If you do not wish to [write], I will relieve you from the task. A soldier of all other men ought to receive all the encouragement friends at home can give them, by writing frequently and when written to, ought to have all the news that can be gathered. Do not think me harsh for thus speaking. It is my nature to be plain. I mean no hard feelings.

In my last letter I mentioned have been over to Washington and seen [brother] Albert. He seemed in good spirits then. Since the there have been several men over here in our camp who belonged to Crook’s Cavalry. They said that their regiment was to be disbanded & if the men would join some of the infantry regiments now in want of men to fill up their ranks, that the government would then pay them for what time they have been in the service. Otherwise, they will be disbanded and sent home without any pay. This is because the government does not want any more cavalry. I wrote Albert a few lines and sent them by one of the men who were over here yesterday. I told him that if I was in his place, I would—if the regiment was disbanded—go immediately home for as I had enlisted as cavalry, I would not enter any other branch of the service—especially the infantry. I also told him before he took any step to come over and see me & then I could better advise with him.

Last week our regiment were out on picket for four days with us about three-quarter of a mile of Annandale & very near to our encampment the first night on our march towards Manassas.

How do you prosper? Does your work pay you well? Have you heard from Uncle Jana lately? I have not since we left Washington, I believe.

The weather in Virginia especially around here is splendid, not having had any wet weather his month. I have recovered my usual good health and am again hale and hearty. I have never had as much flesh upon my bones as at the present. I’m astonished at myself. If I don’t look sharp, I shall come home resembling jolly neighbor Jackson in rotundity. If Albert will conclude to go home, I will let him have money to take with him. The government will of course pay their fare.

Them men are all anxious to be on the march but as yet we do not see any indications that way. Hoping soon to see this struggle ended and of seeing you again soon, I will close also requesting you to be a little more punctual in writing.

Ever remaining your affectionate son, — John B. Edson

to Mr. Elijah Edson


Letter 16

Camp Clara, Virginia
January 1st 1862

Dear Father,

I received the box you and Mother sent with the contents last evening, it having been brought from the Express Office by our commissary. It having been 7 days on the road, it came just in time on New Year’s eve. If you could have been in camp last night you would have been pleased. Just as the New Year came in—boom! boom! from the different camps and then the different instrumental bands stood up making the night vocal with sweet music. The moon and stars shine forth in their brilliancy causing a delightful halo around the encampments. The weather is as beautiful as May. Still have brigade and battalion drill. Yesterday we were—that is, the whole division—reviewed by our Division commander General Franklin after which we were mustered for pay and will get it probably the last of this or the first of next. We as a squad—four of us—have had to get us a stove for our tent. I will try and send you some [money]. I cannot tell yet how I shall come out. I think I can let you have $10 or 12 dollars. That will help you some.

Albert will get his pay about the time we do. I heard they were making out hteir pay rolls. I have not seen him since I was over there. He is promising to come over here but as yet has not made his appearance. I know of nothing more of importance. Still waiting the word forward. I will now close & believe me ever your affectionate son, — John B. Eden

Dear Mother, I received your kind gift which was thankfully received. I will say nothing to the girls as I do not know whether they had any hand in it or not. I expect I should get a letter from each of the girls. By the bye, I must tell you how we passed Christmas. It was a pleasant day although somewhat cloudy. At dress parade in the morning we were told that there would be no drill so we busied ourselves as best we could. Our dinner consisted of some fresh beef fried & this with the [ ] constituted my Christmas dinner. It tasted too much as good as the best Christmas dinner could possible.

I sincerely hope Father will get into steady and profitable work this winter. Cheer up. I think you will come out all right. The family is a great deal smaller than formerly & Robert is paying his way. Consequently you and Father and the girls might live quite comfortably but if course you know best. I will send some money to you on pay day and that will help you some.

Did you send Emily’s letter I wrote her to her yet? I wrote to Salem some two weeks ago and sent it right through to Magara. Do you know where [ ] Edson is? I wrote Emily a good long letter and shall expect an answer. Have the girls write and let me know how their festivities went off. Is Miriam to be married this spring or next spring? If so, I will be to the wedding. Has her loving Tom [Clements] proved negligent? If so, tell her to send him down here and I will chasten him by putting him in the guard house.

Goodbye from your son, — J. B. E.


Letter 17

Camp Franklin, Va.
January 12, 1862, Sunday evening

My Dear Parents,

I write you this under peculiar feelings knowing as I do by whose hands it will be delivered to you—one who but a few months ago I left for one of the slain as I suppose. But thanks be to God he yet lives and by what he says intends to rejoin his company. Yesterday was big day here. About 3 o’clock the regiment got underway and marched towards Alexandria to meet the [exchanged] prisoners. We met them about halfway to camp [and] drew up in line. The Colonel then ordered Open rank and they—the prisoners—marched through, the band taking the lead [and] playing a spirited air. We then marched [behind them] and whenever we would pass any of the many encampments, we would find invariably drawn up in line to receive us, giving the prisoners three cheers. [William H.] Merrell will not be able to join the regiment on account of his arm—it being weak caused by the wound in his shoulder.

I suppose you have or will have before this reaches received my other letter—the one I wrote the other day in answer to Miriam’s. Not wishing to lose the opportunity of sending this by [John T.] Clague, I thus embrace this chance. He can and will no doubt give you a greal deal of information respecting the rebels. I am perfectly satisfied with my condition. I could almost wish I had been a prisoner to receive all the encomiums and praises of a thankful people. It will be difficult for me or any other private to obtain a furlough.

There is no more news of importance just now so I desist for the present. Remember me to all my friends. As ever your son, truly, — J. B. Edson


Letter 18

Camp Franklin, Va.
February 13th [1862]

Sister Hatt.,

The parcel brought by J. T. Clague has come and am thankful for its contents—especially the ran and needles.

You spoke of a young man by the name of [George W.] Kent having called. I do not wish him mentioned again in any of my letters to me. He is a deserter, he having obtained a furlough for ten days, his mother being sick and not expected to live, as he said. He has been gone 23 days an has no intention of returning to the company. He is a thief in the bargain. He also obtained a coat on a loan of a corporal out of Co. K in this regiment. You would know it. It had two stripes upon each sleeve…the boys all despise him. He dare not come back now. Please send nothing by him for he is not to be depended upon. Have nothing to say to him. I was astonished when I read your letter.

We awoke this morning with the news from Burnsides Expedition ringing in our ears & gladdening our hearts.

I expected to receive more letters by John Clague than I did. Have you got the letter which I sent? It is time you received it and also one I wrote and sent before that one in which I sent home the photograph of General Slocum and Col. Bartlett.

You should have meantime received these letters as I thought a good deal of those photographs. Your truly, — John B. Edson


Letter 19

Camp Franklin, Virginia
[Late February 1862]

Brother Bob,

You no doubt think me a queer kind of brother that I don’t once even in a great while write you. It is not because I do not think of you. On the contrary, every day I think of you and wonder what might you be [like] when I get home—if I ever do.

Bob, I’m soon to hear again the booming of the great guns at Manassas and again hear the minié balls whistling about my ears as I did something like 7 month ago.

You wish yourself old enough to be here no doubt. You may yet have a chance. I hear you have charge of an engine. Go on, study much & gain all the information you can. Spend your evenings at home studying and prying into things. Father will gladly help you in such things as pertain to engineering. Do not pattern by me. Many, many is the evening have I spent in [ ] when it might have been spent so as to prove advantageous in after years.

It may be I shall not be permitted to ever see you again but remember my last thought will be of loved ones at home. It will be a hard conflict but I have no fears for the result. Be a good boy—especially to Father and Mother & Ide—and you will not be sorry. Please write your brother, — J. B. Edson


Letter 20

Camp Franklin, Va.
February 27, 1862

Dear Parents,

I send this box with the letters I have received since the Battle of Bull Run. Also some books that I have gathered together since I’ve been in the army. As we are only allowed so much clothing, I thought it would be advisable to send all these unnecessary articles. The cap I want preserved until I return—if I do. If I don’t, you may give it to Bob. We may start at any moment.

I do not wish to have any anxiety on my account felt by you as it was my own free will that I’m where I am. “Listen.” “Listen” for good news soon. News that will make the heart of the nation glad. Remember me to all inquiring friends. As ever, your son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 21

[Camp Franklin, Va.]
Monday morning, March 31st 1862

Sister Hatt.,

Here I’m still writing and it’s now 9 o’clock and I have had no breakfast, there being no sugar at the commissary and you know I could not drink coffee with[out] my supply of that necessary article. I always used so little when at home. Well Hat, is Mat Willis married yet? I heard here that she was. John Hall was my informant. He wishes me to ask you to ask May is she remembers the oysters. Please do it. How is Annie McMillan? Give her my respects if you please.

I want you to call on the Lockhart’s and see if they are well. Ask Edna Carpenter if she ever received a letter from me since I’ve been in the army. Remember me to George Carpenter.

I heard George Vaughan was married to Bell Montgomery. Is this true? Please give me all the news afloat & write me a good long letter and send me William Menullery’s letter to you—the last one. I have never heard from him since I have been in the army, or at least since being in Virginia. Now I insist on this. You know I will say nothing to anyone of its content.

So goodbye for the present. Send me something by Scott if he returns. From your brother, — J. B. Edson


Letter 22

Manassas Junction
Sunday, April 6th 1862

Dear Father,

You no doubt will be surprised when you see this. We left Camp Franklin Thursday morning about 11 o’clock, marched to Alexandria & there took the cars for Manassas. Arrived all safe. As we came through the deserted camps of the Rebs, it was shameful to see the destruction of property. Locomotives & cars burnt right on the track.

Yesterday morning, Friday, I started for the old battle ground of the 21st of July last, arrived there about noon—it being about seven miles from where we are encamped. You cannot imagine my feelings when there & seeing the bones of our boys bleaching in the sun. It made my blood boil. There were a number of bones found of men belonging to our regiment which we buried over and there being a minister present, held a short service of the bones. His name was Parker. I went to the spot where Co. Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves fought & there were the bones of nearly a dozen of them exposed to the gaze of the passers by. I helped cover them over again. I have now with [me] one of the ribs which was detached from the back bone & intend sending it home when convenient. I also have a piece of one of the Zouaves red shirts which I enclose in this and the girls can work it into a piece or needlework to keep in remembrance of those brave men.

I visited the old stone house where I carried John Clague. 1 It looked natural—only has been torn to pieces pretty well. It still bears the mark of the cannon shot.

This is a rough sketch of the stone house. It was a tough sight to see these bones of our comrades thus exposed.

I suppose by the time you get this you will have received letters I sent by David Scott with the draft in. We expect to go on tomorrow towards the Rappahannock. The whole of McDowell’s Corps are now coming on. I will write again soon but you must answer this as soon as you get it. Give me all the news. So goodbye for the present. Your affectionate son, — John B. Edson

The Old Stone House on the Manassas Battlefield showing the “mark of the cannon shot” (blue dot) where John Edson marked it on his sketch.

1 Bull Runnings, a website managed by my friend Harry Smeltzer, posted a letter in August 20201 that was written by Pvt. John B. Edson on the “Death of Pvt. John Clague.” The letter was apparently printed in the Rochester Evening Express on 26 July 1861 and read as follows:

Camp Anderson,
Washington, July 23d.

Dear Sir: – You no doubt have heard of the great battle fought on Sunday last. Our regiment was brought in to the hottest of the affray. I have a painful duty to perform. It is with a trembling hand I inform you of the death of your son John. He fell by my side mortally wounded in the right shoulder. He lived about two hours and a half. Myself and two others carried him to a stone building nearby, used as a Hospital by our troops while in action. I made him as comfortable as possible. He seemed to take everything very easy and died nobly. Our troops had to retreat, and consequently could not bring him off the field. We’ll try however, and obtain it by a flag of truce if the rebels will respect it. John was thought a great deal of in camp. He was quiet and took everything very cool. I am in hopes of getting a furlough for a week or two, until our regiment is made up again, it having been terribly cut to pieces, and then will give you a full account of his death. — J. B. Edson

[To] William Clague.

Harry’s research reveals the following curious discoveries: Per the regimental roster, John Clague mustered out with his company on 5/31/1863. Hospital steward Daniel Bosley of Co. E. reported Clague killed instantly. Pvt. Duncan Brown of Co. E reported Clague died after about an hour. Clague was however reported very much alive after the battle by Co. E’s Corp. W. H. Merrell in his account of his captivity after the battle. John Clague of Co. E died in 1921 per FindAGrave.

Excerpt of article written by correspondent of the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune published in that paper on 12 April 1862.

Letter 23

Camp at Ship Point
On Cheeseman’s Creek, Va.
April 30th 1862, Wednesday morning

Dear Parents,

I commence this letter this morning not intending to finish it at this time but add a little to it every day until after the Battle of Yorktown. The weather is now pleasant and the boys are enjoying the oysters and clams with which the creek abounds hugely. They are of a large kind & very fat. All we have to do is to wade out up to our knees & pick them out of the soft mud. The first time I went in after them I cut my feet badly. I have since learned a better way to get them.

Our camp is the best one we have had since we’ve been in Virginia, located in a beautiful pine grove. There is an old Rebel living just across the creek and who owns all the land around here—something like 200 acres. He told me the other day that he paid 25 cents per bushel for these oysters and had them brought from the James river and planted them on his plantation which is nearly surrounded by water & that he had 3,000 bushels before the Union soldiers came here & would not have 100 bushels left when they went away. Whenever he hears a tree fall, he sighs and says, “there goes $5.” Poor old fool. He has 3 sons in and one son-in-law in the rebel army. He says the Rebs used him far better than we do. We have no pity for the old fellow.

You may think it strange that McClellan does not make the attack. I hear he is growing very unpopular at the North. Perish the man who says ought of this man. The rebels are very strongly fortified clear across the peninsula. Two privates were taken prisoner the other day and brought to the prison boat. They say that Yorktown will be ours shortly. They do not believe that Fort Henry or Donelson is taken. They say it’s a lie and that they never can be taken. News came in camp to the capture of the Crescent City (New Orleans). I learn that Magruder has offered to surrender on conditions but it’s of no use, they have got to surrender unconditionally or fight. They are constantly firing to find out the position of our forces. These prisoners say they—the Rebs—are pretty troubled ot know how we are situated. There is no firing allowed on [ ] or loud talking or singing. All fires for cooking purposes have to be under ground.

We are still expecting to go on board at any moment. Some of the field officers were saying that our destination was Gloucester, just opposite Yorktown, and that we would have to land under cover of the gunboats. An order was read on dress parade last eve from General Slocum that when we disembarked, we would have to be upon [ ] before daylight with our accoutrements on & arms in hand & thus rest upon them until reveille. This is to be done every morning to guard against a surprise. We will be then in close proximity to the enemy.

Yorktown, May 5th 1862, 3:30 p.m. We have just weighed anchor having ben at anchor of this place ever since early this morning. Yesterday morning we were astonished with the news of the evacuation of Yorktown & its fortifications. Such fortifications we have never seen before as belonging to the rebs. They are immense. Officers & men wonder why they did not stand. They could have made a grand stand here but the fact of the matter is there is no stand in them. They are fallen back a few miles & have been followed by some 20,000 cavalry. We are now going up the river some 30 miles further & no doubt will see some warm work. A report has lately come in that they—the enemy—have wounded some 500 of our men. No telling how true this is.

I suppose there were great times in Rochester when the news came of the evacuation of Yorktown. You will receive more of the particulars of this affair than I can give you. Gen. Banks is reported as in the rear of them. They will be cut off sure. The rebellion is about a played out concern. You will soon no doubt hear the notes of peace played ringing through the vales of this glorious republic.

They have—the crew—let the anchor go again so we do not know when we will go on. I hope they will land us soon as our company is in the lower deck down to the water line & it is awful warm & no air, and we are packed in as close as the niggers in the hold of a slaver.

I received your letter with the gold seal in last evening & was glad to hear that you were all well. I’m sorry I cannot be home on the 20th. Should like it very much but it is otherwise ordered. I do not understand your saying Albert was at Winchester. How came he there? Has his regiment got their horses or not? Let me know in your next. Send me his last letter.

I shall not be able to send Emily a letter until we are again on terra firma. Is Salomi to be in Rochester the 20th? I must now close so goodbye for the present. Your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 24

Mechanicsville, Virginia
In Camp 5 miles from Richmond
May [21th] 1862, Wednesday afternoon

Dear Father,

Your kind letter of the 16th inst. I received day before yesterday & have not until today found rally time to answer it. Since last writing you we have seen some pretty severe marching. We have driven the Rebels step by step until now, as a last resource, they have concluded to make a stand here or on the other side of the Chickahominy in the swamp. All we have to do to get a sight of them is to step just beyond the guard lines of our camp & we can see their pickets and their fires very plainly by night.

Last Monday night I was detailed along with some 150 others from the regiments comprising our brigades to build a pontoon bridge over the Chickahominy. 1 The pontoons were brought over by land. Well, it came on to rain just after we started & rained all night and we poor devils had to stand and take it. We did not lay the bridge as the teamsters were late in getting the boats at the proper place. This work had to be done in the dark and right under the nose of the enemy pickets. Daylight over taking us, we had to hide the boats until the next night. We then started back for camp which we reached at 4 o’clock & found the regiment had marching orders right away & it rained still as hard as it could pound. I was wet to the skin already. I threw myself down in my tent for a few minutes but was soon ordered along with the rest to pack up. With our wet tents strapped upon our knapsacks, we trudged along in mud and water over our shoe tops & in about an hour arrived at our present camp.

The house belonging & situated in the grove in which we are encamped was shelled last Saturday by our batteries, it having been the rendezvous of a number of Rebels. The house is riddled through & through with rifled shells. There are many beautiful plantations around here. The boys have been feasting on green peas & green gooseberries [ ] also sweet potatoes.

We hear Jeff Davis has said the streets of Richmond shall run red with blood before he will surrender Richmond. McClellan is getting some of those guns of Yorktown notoriety which will play mischief with them. Last week our regiment along with the 11th New York [Fire Zouaves] Regiment were out on a reconnoissance and drove the enemy over the Chickahominy & feel their strength on this side. We were accompanied by Capt. Arnold & his battery. We drove them over 3 miles—that is, their pickets, & a regiment of cavalry and a battery.

It is generally believed around here that they will make a desperate fight where they now are in order if possible to save Richmond. But it’s of no use. The [ ] and McClellan will compel them to surrender and that unconditionally. Please send me some papers. Closing, I remain as ever your son, — J. B. Edson

1 At the time of the Peninsular Campaign the area had been subjected to steady rains that turned the entire river valley into a huge swamp. On May 27th a pontoon bridge was thrown at New Bridge but was removed when advancing Confederate troops threatened the site. Another attempt to build the bridge on the night of the 31st also proved unsuccessful. The rising water and powerful currents created by the steady rains made the job impossible in the darkness. 


Letter 25

[Mechanicsville, Virginia]
Wednesday, May 28, [1862]

Dear Father,

I suppose you think you ought to have a few lines. Well so do I. How do you prosper? I suppose you have all you can do & have your time occupied in introducing your Canadian cousin Tom to your many acquaintances. I hope he will try and get a situation in Rochester & remain there until I return which I hope will be ere long.

You will perceive that I made rather an abrupt panic. I wrote this first part of this yesterday afternoon when an order came that the enemy was getting ready to attack us and I with all the others had to fall into line with rifles in hand, but it proved to be only a false alarm. Last eve we heard for the first time of Gen. Banks’ retreat back across the Potomac. It had a tendency to depress to some degree the minds of the boys but I have full confidence in the strong arm of the North. We have a very powerful army directly in front of us and we have to be on the watch constantly. We have to arise an hour before sunrise & remain under arms until daylight to prevent a surprise. This affair of Banks will no doubt prolong the war for a few weeks longer than it would have lasted had this misfortune not have happened. Some here think it a plan to draw [Stonewall] Jackson away from these parts & keep him from reinforcing the Rebels in our front. It will not be many days before we’ll be in Richmond, being only five miles from there. The steeples of the different churches can be seen by getting on a high piece of ground or on the top of a house.

Our regiment expects to go out on picket tonight where we will be within 60 rods of them. Our regiment is in the advance now. General Porter has turned the 13th Regiment of Rochester fame out of his division & says they can not be depended upon & have been detailed for extra duty in the rear of the army. This is a big thing for the pet regiment of Rochester, don’t you think so? There was an account of their running from the enemy at Yorktown. Have you heard of the 27th [New York] running yet? Hey? Well no more boasting. I want you to write me an answer to this & in which you must give me a precise account of the affair of the 20th in which you find such a conspicuous part. I hope you will delay in your matrimonial jump until your bro. Jack can be there to witness it. Have you seen Bell lately? If so, let me know.

Tell Father to send me Albert’s last letter to him to me when he answers this one. I suppose his regiment had to leave Winchester when the Rebels made their appearance & will now probably as a regiment be fully equipped. Let me know all particulars. I shall not probably write again until we are in Richmond. You will soon hear of a big battle near Richmond.


Letter 26

On picket before the Enemy Lines
and 5 Miles from Richmond
June 2nd [1862], Monday afternoon

My dear Mother,

You must think this a rather queer place to answer your letter. Well, to tell you the truth, I’m somewhat in a writing humor. Your letter of the 25th inst. [ult.] has just been handed to me & I will try and answer it in my poor way. I wrote a long letter last week to Father, Miriam, & Em before I received the box with the cards which latter arrived all safe with the exception of a piece being torn out of the center of the envelopes leaving the letter partly exposed. The cards do very well but I like not the [illegible] the type was not the kind I should have chosen for such an occasion. The letter being [ ] large and not neatness enough about them. Some folks have queer tastes about them, however the present as far as it goes was “well enough” and reflects cordially upon the donor. There is one question I wish—you may laugh at my asking such a silly question—but I must do it. Did Father have the stirring ceremony of giving the bride away? and how was he dressed for the occasion? I’m very particular, you’ll say, no doubt. You were too much so in your letter of the 25th. I like to have the full particulars at all times.

This is the second time within a week that we’ve had to be on picket duty. The first time when we came on at 7 o’clock in the eve all right that night, well about 3 o’clock the next afternoon there came up the greatest thunderstorm I ever have witnessed—perfectly terrific. The rain came down in torrents & we stood & took it lasting until the relief pickets came along. We went back to camp, it being very dark, but the lightning playing fearfully the while, the rain commenced again & also the thunder. I cannot describe it. I could not do it justice but suffice it to say that I never in all my life heard nor saw anthing so grand.

You no doubt have heard of the Chickahominy Swamp in the papers. It is just in front of where I’m writing & the Rebs just on the other side. Our watching is mostly at night, we having to be careful then. How often when sitting or leaning against a tree with no other companion around me but the whippoorwill, the quail, & frogs in the distant swamp singing and grunting their songs, a person has only to be alone in the woods of an evening to realize the beauty of the same. I have read often of the woods being musical. I believe it now. As I said before, when thus on duty watching the enemy, my mind often wanders back to the fireside warm and comfortable, to the white table cloth, & the tea simmering on the stove. How often I’ve wished I could have dropped in upon that circle, if only for an hour. Then stern duty recalls me from my reverie. The busy workings of the enemy in the swamp beyond as they prepare works for a stout resistance to the vigorous efforts of our young Chieftain—the noble McClellan—bids me to be watchful.

Last Saturday the ball was opened on our left wing by General Keys or rather Casey but who had to fall back overcome by superior numbers. Soon General Kearny appeared upon the scene of conflict & turned the tide of battle. I cannot give a description as our Division was not engaged, it occupying the right of the army here, [and] our brigade occupying a bridge and holding it & keeping the enemy from turning our right flank. We have not heard the particulars further than that the victory is ours. You will hear it all before I do. We shall probably cross tomorrow & no doubt will have a pretty hard battle. The Rebs I learn this afternoon [shot] at Capt. Wanzer, missing him, the bullet burying itself in the ground beyond.

I suppose you have heard ere this of the retreat of Gen. Banks back to Harpers Ferry & Williamsport. No doubt Albert’s regiment has had to retreat also and they probably will be furnished with horses. I hope you will send me all of Albert’s letters hereafter as I take a great deal of interest in the perusal of his letters. I admire his spunk, &c. He knows not the severity of a hard and toilsome march. May he never experience what I have in this respect is my prayer.

Our troops are now very near Richmond. It may be before I get a chance to send this we will be in that city. We expect to get our pay now in two or three days, the paymaster being around the camp.

Please send me some post stamps in your next letter as I cannot get them around here. You did right in sending what you intend to Bill. L. although I cannot say that I have much of any interest in the matter. I must now close with love to all, with a large share for yourself. Remember me to all enquiring friends & I remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 27

In camp 7 miles from Richmond
[Mid] June 1862

Dear Father,

Your letter of June 1st along with Mother’s I received this morning when on guard. I was pleased to hear of Albert’s safety. He never knows something of what a retreat is and the disastrous consequence. There is one thing I wish to know & that is if they had carbines or the regular infantry rifles or muskets & if they also had their sabers.

We are now back in our old camp having been for 11 days on picket duty at Mechanicsville—a placeI mentioned in my previous letters. I wrote you in the 3rd of this month and send enclosed a draft for $16 with which you know what to do. Please send me Albert’s letter giving an account of the battle. Where does [ ] Clements work now?

Give me all the news you have or may hear & I ever remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 28

Camp Lincoln, Fair Oaks
June 28, 1862

Dear Father,

I will endeavor to write you a few lines. We have just had quite a [illegible], the air quality. The weather for the past 10 days has been very warm and uncomfortable. We are still encamped at or near the late battlefield. The division is engaged in building new roads for the movement of heavy siege guns. This is to be another regular investment & siege if the Rebels don’t interfere by bringing on a general engagement which, if they do, McClellan will push right through to Richmond at all hazards. His heavy siege guns have all arrived & are at the station. There is quite an eminence just by and the Rebel picket line which I understand McClellan intends to take possession of & on which he will plant his siege train & which will command the city of Richmond.

They—the Rebs—have tried several times to bring on an engagement. The night before last, or rather in the evening, they undertook a bold maneuver in attempting to get possession of a large quantity of commissary stores which they are in great need of. Our pickets fell back until our batteries could get a chance at them and which soon made sad havoc in their ranks, literally disemboweling a great many.

It is an opinion & sentiment of the North that McClellan intends to be in Richmond by the 4th of July. Allow me to say they know very little about it and it would be a great benefit to the cause of the Union if this set of demagogues would hold their prating. If it had not been for their ignorance with that of a few fanatics in the Cabinet of Congress, McClellan would have been in Richmond long ere this. I just wish I could have the healing of these men. I would give them a dose harder to take than Surgeon [Norman S.] Barnes (camphorated pills).

You do not tell me how you are getting along at Woodbury’s & what kind of work is M. Aylesworth doing at present. I wish you would sed me some papers at all events. Three a week would only be 3 cents, not much. My health is good. Send if you please Albert’s letters after you read them & I will send them back.

Remember me to all enquiring friends. And I ever remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson

[partial letter?]

…steady front 4 ranks deep right up, up to the batteries, on, on, they come. But hard whang goes the grape and canister into them, mowing them down like grass. They reform and still they come only to be received in the same disastrous manner. No less than 4 times have they been known to thus form & press on and in some instances the infantry, who are supporting the batteries getting out of ammunition, have to fall back leaving the gunners to work their guns, there being no way to get the battery off—the horses having been shot down. Thus you have a very faint idea of part of a battlefield. It is beginning to grow dark and I must close. Ever remaining your affectionate son, — J. B. E.


Letter 29

In Camp on James [River]
July 4th, 1862

Dear Father,

Yours of the 29th I received today. I had begun to think you had forgotten me entirely. [illegible due to crease in paper] since informing you of my safety after the battle of the 27th of June. In it I gave you a faint description of the conflict. The eve I wrote that we expected to be attacked but we retreated from there that night for 5, yes 7 days & nights without rest. But it is alright now. McClellan, I believe, has them where he wants [them]. As our regiment was on its way to its present camp, wading in mud nearly knee deep, Gen. McClellan rode along & says, “Never mind, boys, you will soon be through it.”

We expect to have some rest now & recruit our strength. Thousands have fallen on our side during the past 10 days. I don’t suppose 40,000 would cover the list of the killed on our side. The enemy lost many more. The Rebels have been strongly reinforced lately. Thus their success lately, but now that reinforcements are arriving for us, it will put a different face on the matter.

Let me see, one year ago today I was in Rochester. Little did I then think that I should pass through such scenes as I have. Heaven has been propitious indeed with me—comrades falling around me and I spared. One or two holes through my clothes showing how very near I was being hit. The young man who tented with me all of last winter in Camp Franklin was shot through the heart almost at the first fire we received from the Rebels. They tried again their bullets on John Clague, wounding him in the back of the lower part of his head. It was done by a buckshot. It bled profusely at first. I tied my handkerchief wet in water around his head & he walked back to camp. It was a close call for him. He is now as we as ever.

I suppose you will [have] a good time today in Rochester. I suppose the “home guards” will make quite a sensation. I wonder how they would like to have a few 150 pound percussion shells burst and fall around them? Methinks their pantaloons would be wet. With what? you ask. Not where we did sweat. If they have any manhood about them, they will at once & without delay volunteer to take the places of those whose time of enlistment will be out in a few months.

I expected to see the whole of our brigade taken prisoners on Monday night, we being completely cut off. But by the skillful management of Gen. Slocum & Bartlett, we succeeded in stealing through in safety and by a certain spot where but 4 hours before the bullets that the enemy fired into General Kearny’s men flew through our ranks & the shell & solid shot over our heads. I don’t believe there was a man in the ranks certain that ew would get through in safety.

General McClellan reviewed his troops this afternoon. Sadly & decimated look the ranks to what they did one month ago. There is one thing I wish you to understand—the Rebels fight with undaunted courage. To give you an instance, just imagine an army of 4 divisions in all—something like 50,000 men—advancing & thus to sudden destruction. To be sure, they fought with a courage & bravery worthy of a better cause. They thought to drive us into the James [river] by an overwhelming force but as soon as our tired legions came in sight of this placid stream, “Boom!” “Boom,” came a sound which shook the very earth and great missiles went hissing through the air, then to burst causing panic & dismay in the Rebel ranks, hundreds falling to rise no more.

The little Yankee cheese box—the Monitor—rides just below the camp in the river in her majesty and bids defiance to all the world if necessary.

I received Emilie’s letter the other day & was sorry she was soon to return. If I live, I will endeavor to go over & see her & her folks. I suppose there was a big time in Rochester on the 4th. Let me know all about it. We spent it here amid the booming of heavy guns from the gunboats & light field pieces with the instrumental bands playing the national airs.

My health is still pretty good & feel in good spirits. Would feel much better of it were not so hot but must put up with it nevertheless. I f you wish to send anything to me, send someone over to Mrs. Rogers when you get the box [ ] and see when her brother Ed R. is going to return. He has been home on a sick furlough. I heard he was about returning. Do this if it will not put you to too much trouble. How is Miriam getting along? I think she might condescend to write a little more frequently.

Tell Hatt. to tell me how she & Em spent the 4th. Tell her I saw Tony Walk the other day. He is well & in good spirits. I must now close. I received the letter with the $5 in all safe. Let me have all the news you have. Send me the Express with all the letters from this company in. Do you know what [ ] Tim Edson is in at present. Also [ ] Aylesworth. Closing, I hope to hear from you soon. Your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 30

[Camp near Harrison’s Landing]
Tuesday afternoon, August 5th [1862]

I will again [write you] today not knowing what may transpire in a few hours to prevent my doing so.

There is a report in camp that General Pope has been driven back to Manassas. This is only a report; hope it may not prove true. If it is so, this army stands a pretty poor sight.

McClellan might have long ere this been in the Rebel Capitol if there had not been such [___]lling in Congress. I will say no more at present on that subject. Our regiment was paid or at least [our[ company this morning. I will give the draft to Capt. Wanzer & he will sent it along with others to his Father, Doct. Wanzer near the [ ] in Buffalo Street. I don’t know a safe way to send it there the old way. So all Father will have to do is to go to the Doctor’s office and get the draft.

Mother, will you purchase me some [baking] soda and do it [up ] in a kind of flat bundle & send it in a paper the same as you sent the Handy & Co,. There is no danger about sending things that way provided the postage is paid on the weight. Do this and oblige your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 31

Camp near Harrison’s Landing
James River
August 8th 1862
Friday morning

Dear Father,

Your letter of the 3rd I received this morning and was glad to hear that all were well at home. The weather is very warm at present—Yea, awful hot! You don’t see no such weather north as this.

Our fortifications are about completed and strong ones they are. If the enemy should make up his mind to attack us, I’m inclined to think they would go back with a fl___ in their _____. Just imagine an army of something like 80,000 men entirely surrounded by earthworks & at a distance of about every 20 feet a piece of artillery planted. Just imagine the amount of fire that would belch forth on the approach of an enemy.

Yesterday or rather the day before two of the members of our company who were taken prisoners during the late retreat [returned]. They have fared pretty hard. The Rebs seem confident of whipping us but just hurry up those million men, get them to the field, & we’ll sweep rebellion into oblivion. These men say that the Rebels admit their cause is lost of Richmond falls.

Capt. [George G.] Wanzer goes home to recruit one regiment. When he returns you will have an opportunity to send anything you think would produce benefit to me. I wish I could be one that was to go with the captain but it is otherwise ordered.

I’m glad to hear you have steady work. Should think they would appreciate your services enough so as to remunerate you accordingly. I think if they have not done so, they are mean, unprincipled men.

The box has not come yet. I don’t much expect it now & it don’t much matter if does not. I must close now as I feel ill having been up all night on the [ ]. It is very unhealthy here. I don’t expect to be entirely well until cool weather sets in which is not far off. Closing, I remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 32

Fort Lyon
Alexandria, Virginia
August 29, [1862]

My Dear Parents,

I received a letter from Mother dated the 24th. Was glad to hear from you as I always am. Once more in Alexandria, who would have thought it 4 months ago when we sailed down the Potomac for the Peninsula that we would so soon be in our old posts again. “Well, such is the fate of war.” We were told when we got into this camp that we were to stay here but we had but just got our tents pitched after experiencing a heavy rain storm which soon laid them level with the ground, then comes the ominous words, “Strike tents and prepare to march at a moment’s notice.” That order came last night and we are yet here, but as soon as our rations are cooked, we start for someplace—God only knows where.

You say you think I’m having hard times down here. You may well say that but it is no worse with me than with thousands of my brave comrades having made such hard and tiresome marches. We all thought htat we would have a chance to recuperate our failing strength. We have not seen our knapsacks for nearly two weeks and they contain our little all, causing us to wash our shirts & my other things. Well, all this is well enough.

You spoke of Brady proposing to you to send me an under shirt. It would be very acceptable. Only let it be a colored one. You will find some nicer ones of fine soft wool in most any of the stores over the river. Do not get anything that is harsh. You know how tender my skin is. I have never drew but one of those white shorts from the government & that one was the other…Government shirts are too harsh for me altogether. Well, do as you think best & I guess all will be well. This person you call Sergt. Brady is nothing more than a private [William H. Brady] in our company. He was not in any of the battles with his company but came in after they were over so you can judge how much the boys think of him. Our time is nearly out.

If I had more time, I would write more. Give my love to all enquiring friends & I ever remain your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 33

Camp Franklin, Va.
[August 30, 1862]

Dear Father,

Yours of the 23rd I received this forenoon & hasten to answer it.

I have some good news for you. The long wished for time has come. Yesterday afternoon about 4 o’clock the Colonel [Joseph J. Bartlett] gave orders to fall in to line without arms out on the parade ground. He them formed us into a square and read an order somewhat as follows. An order from the Headquarters of the Army for the men to stand in readiness to march at a moment’s notice with two days rations in our haversacks and our knapsacks to contain but one shirt besides the one we have on, it—the orders stating how heavily the teams are to be loaded.

We know not at what moment we will have to start. McClellan’s anaconda is about to make the final strike of the war. He will probably lead on with 250,000 men. General Banks has crossed the Upper Potomac and occupies the same position that General Patterson held when the Battle of Bull Run was fought. He will prove no such traitor as did Patterson and will come down on the Rebs at Manassas like a whirlwind.

Joseph J. Bartlett of 27th New York; shown here in Brig. General’s uniform (LOC)

Oh! it will be a glorious time when we plant the glorious emblem of our Nation high on the ramparts of Manassas. But I’m digressing. After Col. Bartlett had read this order, you ought to have heard the cheering. He then made us a speech in part of which he said that he was willing to share the fate of the rank and file. He said he knew the metal that the regiment was made up of. (Col. Bartlett will not ask him men to go where he dare not, but on the contrary will lead us into the very thickest of the fight himself fighting like a caged lion.) Just look at his eyes in his photograph and see if you can’t discern a spirit that says, “Never say die.” He is an awful man in battle. If you could have seen him at Bulls Run, just at this point, then at that, always where the worst danger was to be incurred.

When you get this letter, I shall be on the way to Manassas, but you must write all the same and direct to Washington as usual. It may be the last time that I shall have the pleasure of writing you again. No human being can tell. The God of battles only knows. I have longed for the hour to come when we could wipe out the Bull Run defeat.

You no doubt will look at all the news with a great deal of interest but always bear in mind that the 27th will always be in the front ranks of the many eager combatants. Remember too the 27th has the best names of any regiment that was in the field at Bull Run—no exceptions—even the boasted 69th and fire zouaves. I will tell you if I ever see you again.

So goodbye for the present, — J. B. Edson

Look out soon for great news in Eastern Virginia.


Letter 34

Camp near Alexandria, Va.
September 5th 1862

Dear Father,

I received two letters from home yesterday—one mailed on the 18th of August, the other on the 1st of this month. I was glad to hear of your all being well and am thankful that I still live. Since I last wrote you, we’ve been to Manassas or within a mile and a half of the battleground but not in time to take a part. If we could only have got there—that is, our Division & Corps—no doubt there would have been a different termination. I will tell you if I ever get home about the part our Division & Regiment took in that fight. I am sick of putting things on paper.

Well, I’ve just finished my dinner of pork and beans. I have not yet heard from the box. I think the man who said he would bring it to me ought to [have] made it good in some way or other.

I feel no interest in writing now days. I’m not disposed at all. The news of General McClellan having taken full command of the whole army fills me with delight. If they had not deprived him of his command before, he would have long ere this brought with the help of his brave legions this war to a successful close. “All honor to the Brave Gay Commander & woe be to the man that anyone of us hears abusing or disparaging him, our General.” I’ve been told by persons lately from the North that Gen. McClellan was very little thought of & in some places denounced as a traitor. If McClellan had been on the field last Saturday, things would have been different.

I suppose Capt. [George G.] Wanzer is on his way home by this time. I hear he has been called.

I will close hoping to hear from you often. As ever your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson

Send me some postage stamps and Albert’s last letter.


Letter 35

Wayside Marker at Crampton’s Gap

Crampton’s Gap
September 15, 1862

Dear Father,

Your letter of the 8th I have just received & am glad that you are all well. Well, I have passed through another terrific battle with the enemy which we—that is, our Division—completely routed. The enemy were strongly posted in the above named gap. It was assigned to General Bartlett to open the engagement with his brigade which he did in gallant [style]. Our regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers to find the enemy and bring on the engagement. On we went right into the teeth of the rebel batteries. They opened on us with grape and canister & case shot but still on we went until the left of our regiment commenced firing. We fought them thus, picking off the rebel gunners and horses until the rest of our brigade came up to our relief which was just in time as our ammunition was just exhausted. Then General Bartlett ordered a general charge of the whole line. We carried everything before us, the rebs running like scattered sheep although having been just reinforced by Gen. [Howell] Cobb with his brigade. The dead and dying are laying all about.

It was a complete victory for us, Slocum having cut their line in two. It was a bold stroke but a successful one. I hear that yesterday they were repulsed everywhere. We are only about 5 or six miles from Harper’s Ferry near the town of Jefferson. You will see it on any of them maps that are in the New York Herald. Probably I shall see Albert in a few days if he is not shot or wounded. There has been heavy firing in that direction yesterday.

McClellan is in the field & I think all will yet be well. Our regiment does its duty everywhere. Remember. I expect we will move every moment.

Ever your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 36

On the Battlefield near Sharpsburg, Maryland
September 19, 1862

Dear Father,

Having a few spare moments, I will use them in letting you know that I am yet in the land of the living. Our Corps arrived on the field just in time to take the front & relieve the men who had been engaged all day. Our Division were not engaged. We did nothing of the offensive yesterday. Last night the enemy moved off. This morning our light artillery went after them. I hear them now thundering in the enemy’s rear. I read in the Clipper an account of Albert’s regiment cutting their way out of Harper’s Ferry. It was a gallant deed. I know not how Albert is. I hear the regiment is about a mile and a quarter from here near Williamsport. I’m expecting to see him every day. I want to see him very much.

We have bivouacked on the battlefield for two nights. The stench is terrible. There was one spot near our company where a Mississippi & Georgia Regiment made a charge, but just as they were crossing the fence, a storm of bullets met them & some sixty were stretched dead upon the field in every for which death by the bullet can cause.

The Monroe County Regiment—108th—were in this battle & young Robert Holmes is reported to have been killed. He was leading on his company while on the charge when a ball went through his breast & he fell. The bullet spares none. Capt. [George G.] Wanzer has not returned yet.

When you write, let me know all the news. How is Miriam getting along? I hear nothing from her. I suppose she has no thought for her long absent brother having [ties?] of another nation to call her attention elsewhere.

There will probably be another great battle soon which will terminate the contest of this fall. I leave you to guess as to what you think will be the result of that contest.

All hail to our young commander, McClellan.

From your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson

Saturday, September 20th—Before ending this, I can tell you that I’ve seen Albert. His regiment was on the move. I had to run from the rear of his regiment to the front in order to see him. He looked well. I’m expecting to see him now every moment having sent word to him to come & see me. Write soon & oblige your son, — J. B. Edson

P. S. Tell Hatt. to write me. Also cousin M. as I did not receive her letter she sent in the box. — J. B. E.


Letter 37

In Camp at White Plains, Virginia
and 17 miles from the old battleground of Bull Run
November 1861 [should be 1862]

Dear Father,

Your kind letter of the 26th inst. [ult.] I received only a few days ago. I not being with the regiment, could not get it when it arrived. I am in good health, thank God. Old winter has set in—snow an inch deep on the ground.

Well, one more in Old Virginia and nearly upon the same ground we have been on before so many times. We have made some tall marching, just back from Harrison’s Landing to Newport News, from there we sailed to Alexandria, marched through there to Bull Run and back to Alexandria, from there to Washington, through Maryland to Williamsport, and then back to Berlin, just this side of Harper’s Ferry where we again crossed into Virginia and are now very near Manassas again. Strange movements.

No winter quarters for the army this winter but strong active war. It is as cold here today & as strong as I’ve seen it in the North in this month. So you can judge how warm & comfortable we soldiers are. I’m in hopes they—that is, our army—will end this affair this month.

You spoke of Albert’s regiment as being attached to our Corps. It is not so. I’ve not seen him since the time near Williamsport, Maryland. I’ve heard while on this march that the regiment is out in front and in the advance & they have lost some in skirmishing with the enemy but where they are, I do not know.

Those gloves you sent by Lieut. Leggett I’m afraid I shall never get. I need the gloves very much as I cannot get any around here. You could send me a pair by mail or you could tell Albert’s mail [ ]. Give him the directions the same as a letter. Hoping to hear from you soon, I close ever remaining your sincere & affectionate son, — John B. Edson

to Elijah Edson, Esq.


Letter 38

In Camp 11 miles from Fredericksburg
Stafford Court House, Va.
November 26, 1862

Dear Mother,

Hearing that Father was not in Rochester, I will write to you instead. It has been some time since I heard from home. You know not how I feel when some time elapses before I hear from home. The soldier prizes a letter from home far better than any favors that can be conferred upon him. He needs all the encouragement in the way of hearing from home is concerned that can possible be given to him.

I’m again with the regiment having been at the commissary for the month. It was much easier there than in the regiment for I had my knapsack carried in the wagons. They are the greatest curse that the soldier has.

I received a letter from Annie McMillan a day or two ago which & answered in which she mentions Father’s being in Baltimore. She did not mention what he was there for. I wish you would tell me all about it & if he gets any better wages than he did when he used to go out 2 yeas ago.

Saturday, 29th. I received a letter from Father last evening in answer to the one I wrote when at White Plains. About two weeks ago I heard that Albert was back at or near the junction with some sick horses and that the principal part of the regiment was in the advance along with the 8th Illinois Cavalry. I haven’t heard a word from him since.

I received a letter from Annie McMillan about a week ago. She said in that Father had gone to Baltimore. If he is there, it is but a short distance to where we now are. He could go from Baltimore to Washington, then take the boat from there to Aquia Creek & it is only 7 or 8 miles from there to Stafford Court House and by enquiring for General Brooks’ Division. He—Brooks—has command of our division & has ever since sometime before we left Maryland.

I don’t believe I will ever get the gloves you sent by Lieut. Leggett unless Albert sends them by mail. It would not be policy to send anything by express to anyplace. You could send me a pair of gloves by mail quite easily & not have it cost but very little. I should prefer the pure buckskin glove to any cheap affair for they would not be worth the cost of the mail. We do not expect to be paid now until after the first of January & I should like to have you send me 2 or 3 dollars in money if you can as I need it very much. Also please send me one coarse and one fine tooth comb. Send them in a paper by mail.

The government thinks we can carry on a winter campaign here successfully but we soldiers have our doubts about it. It took 16 hours to pull our rifled gun from the mud into which it had sunk the other day. If we—that is, the army—should go into winter quarters, there is a good reason to believe the two years men will be discharged. If so, Bully for us!

I must now close, remaining as ever your affectionate son, — J. B. E.


Letter 39

On the Battlefield of Fredericksburg
December 13th [1862]

Dear Father,

This is the second night that we have bivouacked upon the battlefield. The enemy is in strong position before us. We crossed in force yesterday morning the night before after our forces had finished shelling the city. Our regiment was ordered over & deployed as skirmishers and scour the country a short distance in front after which we returned across the river. The next morning—yesterday I mean—the whole left Grand Division crossed. Our position is near the center. Our lines is about 10 miles long so you may judge of the quantity of ground we cover and have to fight over. Our brigade lay under the fire of the rebel batteries all day. Tomorrow we take the front as skirmishers. I may fall. It is a hard contested field. It is (nip & tuck) with both sides so far although I believe the advantage if any is with Stonewall Jackson. I hear [he] commands the rebels.

We attacked them on the left this forenoon with a view of flanking them bit did not make much headway. They have a very strong position. The troops have to spend the night in the open air & tonight are not allowed to unpack their knapsacks. This order is that we may be ready to support the skirmishers in case they are being driven in.

I have not seen [brother] Albert yet. I was near their camp at Bell Plain. I suppose they are doing picket duty still in our rear. If we should beat the rebs here, I think it would be a final one for them.

I will now close this as I write under some difficulties sitting upon my knapsack & it upon the ground. The Rebel campfires are only a little over half a mile distance.

So goodbye. If we meet no more here below, may we meet in a far better world where war & conflict is not thought of. May God defend the right is the sincere prayer of your son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 40

Still on the Battlefield [at Fredericksburg]
Monday morning, December 15th [1862]

Dear Father,

I will send you a few more lines this morning. Yesterday all day we were on picket and had to lay under their fire all day. Whenever we would put up our heads, they would pop at us. The Rebs are very strongly fortified. It will be a great sacrifice of lives to take their position.

Yesterday being Sunday, they did not commence on either side. I received the letter with the dollar which you sent yesterday.

So goodbye for the present. Your son, — J. B. Edson


Letter 41

White Oak Church, Va.
February 25, 1863

Dear Parents,

Having an opportunity to send a few lines by Chas. W., recon I will improve them. I received the papers sent by Lieut. Roach & was glad to get them…

Albert is no where near me now or was he when I got [ ] He [ ] 20 miles away at Aquia Creek where, consequently, cannot get to him. I heard they had orders to go to Newbern, North Carolina. I let him have my watch some two months since. He then told me I could have the one he sent him so I shall reclaim mine…[ink is too faded to read]


Letter 42

White Oak Church, Va.

[Ink is too faded to transcribe]


Letter 43

Near White Oak Church, Virginia

[Ink is too faded to transcribe]


Letter 44

27th Regt. N. Y. State Vols.
Near White Oak Church, Va.
April 10th [1863]

Dear Father,

Received your letter of the 29th some days ago and have now concluded to answer it. We have just had another muster which will probably be our last.

The President & wife reviewed the army the other day. I was not present on account of a lame ankle. A couple of our boys have just started for the 8th Cavalry. I sent word to Albert by one of them telling him if he wanted to see me again before I went home, this might be his only chance.

The weather for the past 3 days has been exceedingly beautiful….You did not tell me how UncleJohn & Henry are prospering & where they are working & who for.

Father, I wish you to take the money now in the bank in my name & get you a Sunday go to meeting suit of clothes. You can have it in welcome & I want to see them on you when I get home—that is, on the first Sunday afterwards. Noe bear this in mind. If there should be more than you can use, let Mother have the rest to get her a tip top dress—that is, if there is enough now you understand. I will see to Hatt. when I return.

I will now close hoping to soon see you in person. As ever, your affectionate son, — J. B. Edson

We have now (one of Joe Hooker’s days)—the stormy ones.

We expect to start for York State in about ten days. I understand the 13th have given up their arms. I think I saw Albert last. I advised him to get a furlough. I wish he would. I would like to see him in Rochester. You may well feel proud of him for he’s a brave soldier. No fear in his constitution. 27 days at the most have we got to serve but that is short. If I should get my discharge in Washington, I should not go to Rochester with the company and there are a great many others that would not. Our officers have proved themselves to be mere nothings. They have never stuck to their promises. I have an abject…

The government was some 4,000 men to go to California after mules. The men are to be equipped as cavalry, two revolvers, saber and carbine. To proceed to New York City, from thence by steamer to California, to come back the overland route, the regular mail route & bring those mules back with each of us riding one & lead two. Pay $45 per month. …starting first of June. This is what I’m thinking of. I have not yet made up my mind. I have a often wanted to see California. I think it would be a good chance.

I have been feeling somewhat unwell, having a heavy cough, but I guess it will soon pass away. Do you think work will be plenty this summer.

I do not know whether I shall go to work at my business or no. I shall not be in a condition to do any heavy work at the first.


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